Forever After

by Catherine Anderson

  Meredith leaned a shoulder against the refrigerator, feeling weak at the knees. The big boys. Oh, God, she prayed Heath was right, and that shot of Sammy wasn’t very clear. A long silence fell over the line.

  Then, as if he sensed her agitation, he said, “I’m sorry, honey. I’ve upset you, haven’t I?”

  Honey. There it was again, that offhanded endearment that always made her think of her dad. In many ways, the two men were a lot alike, she guessed, both of them big and rugged, yet wonderfully gentle.

  “Why on earth would I be upset?”

  “I’ve been blowing off a lot of steam.”

  She rubbed her temple. “Don’t worry about it. I know this is a bad time for you.”

  “Is it being on television that’s bothering you, then?”

  This man was far too intuitive. “Heath, I’m not upset!” She tried to laugh. “Except on your behalf, of course. It’ll be kind of fun for Sammy and me, seeing ourselves on television. I’ll try to keep her awake. If not, maybe she can watch the video at your place soon.”

  “Don’t you have a VCR?”

  “No. I’m not much for watching movies.”

  She could almost hear him smiling. “Right. And the cost of a VCR has nothing to do with it.”

  “That, too, I suppose.” Meredith stared at a cupboard handle, the beginnings of a headache throbbing behind her eyes. “A VCR is something of a luxury item.”

  “A good many people in this country would argue the point.”

  Her hand tightened on the receiver. “Well…you caught me in the middle of making cookies, Heath. I should probably get back to it.”

  “Is that anything like biscuit making?”

  She smiled in spite of herself. “There are certain similarities, yes. Would you like to join us?”

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” he said with mock horror. “Catch you later, honey. Happy KP duty.”

  After dropping the receiver back in its cradle, Meredith leaned over the counter, resting her throbbing head on her folded arms.

  After Heath hung up the phone, he frowned and directed his gaze at the living room window. Through the glass, he could see Meredith’s house outlined against the darkening sky.

  He’d gotten the distinct impression from talking with her that she was upset, and the only reason he could think of was that news broadcast. Her reaction disturbed him.

  He shook his head, laughing at himself for the direction his thoughts were taking. He’d been wearing a badge for too long, he guessed. Getting paranoid. Meredith Kenyon was no criminal, he’d stake his life on that, which brought him full circle back to his suspicion that she was hiding from her husband. She was probably terrified her ex would see the television spot, learn her whereabouts, and come looking for her.

  He wished she could be up front with him about that. In time, maybe she would be. Until then, all he could do was be patient.

  Meredith sat in the shadowy living room on the sofa, her hands covering her face. The remote control, which she’d just used to flick off the television, lay beside her on the cushion. Just as Heath had predicted, she and Sammy had been on the eleven o’clock news. Given Ian Masters’ celebrity status, she feared that even CNN might run the story.

  The pictures she’d just seen flashed through her mind. There had been a shot of her carrying Sammy across the yard to the house, but the details hadn’t been very clear. Even if the spot went national, the chances that Glen or anyone else might recognize Sammy’s profile were almost zilch. As for Meredith, she looked nothing like she once had. She would venture to bet that she could walk right up to Glen in her disguise and not be noticed.

  She rose from the sofa and began to pace, rubbing her aching temples with rigid fingers. Thank you, God. Meredith was so relieved she wanted to sit back down and dissolve into tears. They’d been lucky. This time.

  Now, she just had to make sure nothing like this ever happened again.

  Punching in Allen Sanders’ phone number on the portable, Glen Calendri remained perched on the edge of his recliner, his gaze fixed on the image that was freeze-framed on his television screen. The phone rang several times before Sanders finally answered, his voice groggy with sleep.

  “Calendri, here,” Glen said abruptly.

  “Boss?” There was a rustling sound at Sanders’ end. “It’s damned near three in the morning. What’s up?”

  Glen continued to stare at the television. “I recorded the news tonight so I could see how I came off when I did that live interview with Paulson. Did you watch it?”

  “Yeah, boss, yeah. You came off real good.”

  “How about the rest of the news? Did you catch that story about the sheriff out in Oregon? The son of that attorney, Ian Masters.”

  “That the same guy who defended Rossi and got him off?”

  “One and the same,” Glen replied.

  Sanders yawned, then there was more rustling. “No, I must’ve missed that part. Why?”

  “Because there’s a kid in the guy’s backyard who looks sort of like Tamara.”

  “You shittin’ me?” Sanders’ voice lost its grogginess. “Hot damn, boss. You think it’s her?”

  Glen stared hard at the child’s profile. “I can’t be sure. It’s not a very clear picture. Probably just wishful thinking. Her hair’s shorter and—” He broke off and sighed. “Hell, I can’t tell. It’s just the feeling I got when I saw it. A sense of recognition. Something about the kid caught my eye. If it hadn’t been on tape so I could look at it again, I would’ve shrugged and forgotten about it.”

  “I know it must be tough, boss. You wantin’ her back so bad, and all. Kind of natural to think you see her sometimes.”

  Hardly hearing Sanders, Glen stared hard at the screen. “It could be Tamara, though. The woman carrying her doesn’t resemble Mary. Dark hair, heavier build, bigger through the bust.” He reversed the film, then ran it forward again. “The walk is similar. Could be the loose clothing, falsies, a dye job on the hair.”

  “You want us to check it out?”

  Glen stopped the film at the same place he’d stopped it earlier. He stared long and hard at the child’s profile. “It’d be a longshot. Probably a total waste of time and energy.” He backed the film up, then reran it. “But, hell, why not? Yeah, yeah. I want you to check it out. They’re in a town called Wynema Falls. There’s a car parked in the driveway next to the sheriff’s rig—a cream-colored Ford sedan, an ’85 or ’86. Oregon tag, SAV-235.”

  “Just a sec. I need a pen.” A second later, Sanders came back on the line. “Okay, give it to me again.”

  Glen did so. After Sanders had written down the information, he said, “You got a strong feelin’ about this, don’t ya, boss? You believe it could be your little Tamara.”

  “Yeah, though God knows why. Like I said, I can’t be sure. If it is, her mother must have some kind of connection with that sheriff. Living with him, maybe.”

  “Pretty fast work, if it’s Mary. How long has she been gone? Two months?”

  Glen’s lips thinned in a humorless smile. “Mary is attractive. She’s the type some redneck sheriff might go for.”

  “That could make it sticky.”

  “Exactly. If it’s Mary, you can bet that’s why she tied up with him. Probably makes her feel safe, having him around. Tell your men to keep their heads low. For now, all I want is a positive ID, one way or another, on the kid. If it’s not my granddaughter, wrap it up and come home, nobody the wiser. If you find out that it is Tamara, the snatch will have to be carefully orchestrated. I don’t want anyone to make a move without my approval.”

  “Gotcha, boss. You can count on me.”

  “No screwing up, Sanders. If that is my granddaughter, I want her back, safe and sound, no trouble attached. You tell your men I’ll have their heads if they do anything to call attention to themselves. I don’t want the broad to smell a rat and run.”

  Before retiring for the night, Meredith made her nightly rounds of the h
ouse, checking to be sure all the doors were locked and that all the appliances were turned off. That done, she stepped into Sammy’s room. As she bent over the bed to tuck in the covers around the child, she noticed that Sammy was smiling, even in her sleep.

  Tears of gratitude sprang to Meredith’s eyes, and she sank onto the edge of the mattress to gaze at her daughter and send up a silent prayer of thanks. They didn’t have to leave. Things could go on as they had been, at least for a while longer. Her sense of relief was so great, it almost filled her with trepidation. She cared more for Heath Masters than she wanted to admit.

  Knowing him had brought a lot of problems into her life, but with the problems had also come blessings. As a young girl, Meredith had fantasized about falling in love one day with a stereotypical Mr. Right. Someone tall, dark, and handsome who did wonderfully romantic things, namely bringing her roses and singing her romantic love songs. After meeting and marrying Dan, she’d quickly come to realize those had been childish imaginings, as far from reality as life could get. End of story.

  But was it?

  Meeting Heath had made her start to believe in the impossible again. He was definitely tall, dark, and handsome. He hadn’t presented her with roses, of course. But he had sung a beautiful love song outside her window. Old McIntyre had a farm.

  She nearly giggled, remembering how ridiculous he’d looked, doing a duck waddle around her front yard and mooing like a cow. What mother could witness that and remain untouched? All her life she’d heard the old saw that the way to a woman’s heart was through her child. It had definitely proved to be true in her case.

  There were so many things she wanted for her little girl. A home filled with the sound of laughter. A sense of family, of security, of connection and roots.

  Heath cared deeply for Sammy. That was evident every time he so much as looked at her. And sometimes, when he looked at Meredith, she sensed that he was developing a deep fondness for her as well. Wasn’t it possible that there was a reason he had come into their lives? Maybe it hadn’t been a disastrous twist of fate that had led her to rent this house, after all, but divine intervention.

  Meredith was almost afraid to hope, but by the same token, she was so horribly tired of having no hope at all. Heath was no fairy-tale hero, that was true. He couldn’t perform magic and fix all that was wrong in her life. He certainly couldn’t make her past disappear in a puff of smoke. But was it so wrong of her to wish that maybe, by some miracle, she’d met him for a reason?

  Hugging herself, she fought the feelings that were sweeping through her. Against ordinary odds, Heath Masters could probably wade in swinging and come out an uncontested winner. But not even he could do battle with her dragons.

  A sudden thump against the window glass jerked Meredith from her thoughts. She eased up from the bed to sweep aside the curtain and peer out into the darkness. What on earth? As she pressed her nose to the glass, she could barely make out a blur of black just outside the window. She smiled and tugged up the sash.

  “Goliath, what on earth are you doing here?” she whispered. “Sammy’s asleep.”

  Not waiting for her to step back, the Rottweiler hooked his front paws over the window sill and leaped into the bedroom, nearly knocking Meredith down in the process. After licking her hand as if to apologize for the jostle, he trotted over to jump on the bed. Sammy murmured in her sleep and snuggled close as the dog curled up beside her.

  Meredith folded her arms. “You can’t stay here,” she scolded softly. “Heath will wonder where you are and worry himself sick.”

  The dog whined and rested his head on Sammy’s shoulder, giving Meredith what she’d come to think of as his “boo-boo-eyed” look, his expression mournful and pleading. She smothered a smile and shook her head. “It won’t work,” she whispered. “I have a heart of stone.”

  Goliath whined pathetically, prompting Meredith to sigh. It would be a simple enough thing to call Heath and tell him where the dog was, she supposed. Heath had been dropping Goliath off at her house every morning before work, anyway. What difference would it make if the dog spent the night? Sammy would be tickled pink when she woke up to find her canine friend in bed with her.

  “All right,” Meredith conceded. “But understand, it’s only this once. You can’t make a habit of it. You’re Heath’s dog, not ours, and he won’t take kindly to our stealing you away from him.”

  Still wide awake and staring at the bedroom ceiling, Heath answered the telephone on its second ring. He glanced at the luminous red display of his digital alarm clock. Twenty of twelve? It had better be damned important.

  “Masters, here,” he said, putting as much growl into his voice as he could muster. “What’s up?”

  “Heath? It’s Meredith. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

  “No, I’m still up.” Pleasantly surprised to learn it was Meredith calling, he nearly smiled. Then he remembered what time it was and frowned instead. “Is something wrong, honey?”

  “No, no. I just called to tell you Goliath is here.”

  Heath shot a look at his open bedroom window. Damned dog. The smile he’d squelched a moment before spread slowly over his mouth. Maybe he shouldn’t complain too loudly about the Rottweiler’s obsession with Sammy, not when it resulted in late-night telephone calls from his favorite lady.

  “Uh-oh,” he said, trying his best to sound remorseful. “I opened my bedroom window again. The house is warm tonight. I guess Goliath bailed out when I wasn’t looking.” He pushed up on an elbow and raked a hand through his hair, which felt as if a high-speed mixer had given it a stir. “If he keeps this up, he’s going to find himself doing time in that new kennel, after all.”

  “Oh, no. I didn’t mean to—”

  “I’ll be right there to get him,” Heath broke in. “Just give me a couple of minutes to get dressed, all right?”

  “That really isn’t necessary.”

  “It’s not?”

  “No. He’s already settled in with Sammy for the night, and he won’t be a bother. I just wanted you to know where he was so you wouldn’t fret.”

  Fret? Just when he thought he was growing accustomed to the way she talked, she threw him another quaint-sounding word. How long had it been since he’d heard anyone say “fret”? Or was it just her honeyed drawl that made it seem so distinctive?

  He settled back against the pillows, wishing he could lie there for hours and simply listen to her voice. Of course, it would have been nicer yet if she were there in bed with him, her head nestled on his shoulder, the soft huff of her breath moving warmly over his skin.

  “This way you won’t have to drop him off in the morning on your way to work,” she pointed out. “He’ll already be here.”

  Heath enjoyed stopping by her place every morning to drop off the dog. He’d miss not having an excuse to see her on his way into town.

  “You sure you don’t mind having him?”

  “Not at all. Sammy loves him so.”

  “He’ll shed all over her bed.”

  He could almost hear her smile. “What’s a little more dog hair? I’m getting used to it.”

  He chuckled. “Sorry about that. But you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “It’s worth it. He’s made all the difference for Sammy. Too bad you can’t see the two of them right now. They’re cuddled up like contented bugs in a rug.”

  Heath wound the telephone cord around his index finger, wishing he could not only see Sammy and Goliath, but Meredith as well. Trying to form a picture of her, he decided she was probably wearing that pink bathrobe, her hair lying in soft curls over her shoulders. Suddenly, he found the thought of pink chenille extremely seductive.

  “I think it must be true love,” he said, his voice turning oddly husky. “I’ve never seen a kid and dog so taken with each other.”

  She took a moment to reply. “It definitely seems to be a match made in heaven, doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it sure does.” And what about us? Heath nea
rly asked. Are you feeling what I’m feeling? Or is it only me who’s losing his mind? Instead, he said, “Thanks for calling me, Merry. You were right. If I’d woken up and found him gone, I would have been worried.”

  A brief silence followed. Then, “Heath?”

  “Hmm?”

  Silence again. Then he heard her drag in a breath. “I, um, just wanted to thank you.”

  “For what?”

  There was a long silence. Then she said, “You and Goliath have been so good for Sammy. It’s been ages since I’ve seen her laugh so much. You can’t know how grateful I am.”

  Why hasn’t she laughed? Heath wanted to ask. Then on the heels of that question, another came into his mind. And what about you, Merry? How long has it been since you laughed? He had a hunch it had been a very long while, that moments of carefree lightheartedness came all too seldom for her. What she needed was a new husband. Someone to love her. Someone to share her burdens and protect her. Someone whose mission in life would be to make her smile at least once a day.

  “What can I say? If she’s laughing more than usual, we must be funny guys.”

  Another long silence ensued. “It’ll be midnight soon. May nineteenth is almost over.”

  “Don’t remind me. I still feel embarrassed when I think about this afternoon. My feminine side coming out, I guess.”

  She gave a startled laugh. “Your feminine side? There’s nothing feminine about you.”

  “Nothing?” He ran a hand over his chest. “These are the nineties, you know. Women don’t find macho very attractive.”

  “You’re in trouble, then.” She laughed again. “I guess I must not be very modern minded.”

  Heath grinned. “Can I take that to mean you do find me attractive?”

  She laughed again. “If I were in the market for a man, yes.”

  “Sometimes you don’t have to be shopping, you know. Things just happen.”