A Baby Between Them

by Winnie Griggs

  “Nora, hold still, it’s me.”

  She finally quieted and focused on her captor. “Cam.” She said his name dully. Then she started struggling again. “We have to stop her. She’s got Grace. That horrid horse thief has my baby.”

  He pulled her close against his chest. “I know. James rode into town and told me what happened.”

  The fight drained out of her. “Why did she do this? Oh, Cam, what if she’s hurt?”

  * * *

  Cam had never seen his proud, no-nonsense housekeeper so distraught. There was a brittleness about her, as if she would shatter at the slightest touch. Her normally tidy hair had escaped its pins and was framing her face in wild disarray. There were scratches on her arms and face that she didn’t seem to know were there. Her dress had two rips that he could see, and likely more. And worst of all, she was trembling.

  Cam smothered an oath, directed against the kidnapper and against his own inability to fix this right this moment. The thought of any little one, much less Grace, at the mercy of a conscienceless criminal was tearing him up inside. He had to get his ladybug back safe.

  “I know, Nora honey. And we’ll find her. But you need to let me take you back to the cottage in case the person who took her decides to bring her back.”

  He saw a desperate kind of hope flare in her eyes. “Do you think that’s possible?”

  He tried to balance between reassurance and not promising the impossible. “Anything is possible. Now come on. Gavin is right over here. He’ll see that you get home okay and stay with you.”

  “But—”

  He had to get her home before she hurt herself or made herself ill. “Agnes and James are very worried. You need to be strong for them.”

  She stiffened stubbornly. “I want to keep looking.”

  He brushed the hair from her face, wishing there was something he could do to comfort her. “It’ll be dark soon. And time spent standing here arguing with me is time I could be out looking for Grace.”

  He saw the struggle play out on her face. Finally her shoulders drooped in acceptance and she nodded. Then she placed a hand against his chest. “Please, find her.”

  “I will.” He desperately hoped he could keep that promise. God, I know I haven’t been much for praying, not in a long time, but please help me find Grace. Not for me, but for Nora and Grace herself—they need each other.

  * * *

  An hour later the sun had gone down, blanketing the countryside in darkness, and Cam was forced to call a halt for the night. Even with lanterns it was too dangerous for the searchers to be stumbling around out in the woods. Still, he himself kept looking in the more open areas for another hour until he finally accepted that it was useless. In the dark he could walk within a few feet of the kidnapper and never know it.

  He trudged up to the cottage, dreading having to tell Nora that Grace had not yet been found.

  Before he got very close, the door flew open and Nora raced outside. The light from the half moon revealed in aching clarity just how much of a toll the wait and worry had taken on her. From the corner of his eye he saw Agnes and James standing in the doorway, holding each other. Gavin stood in the shadows behind them.

  But his focus was all on Nora.

  She halted a few paces from him and he saw the hope drain from her expression, quickly followed by anger.

  All he could say was “I’m sorry.”

  She launched herself at him, beating against his chest with balled fists. “How could you come back without her? You promised. You never liked her, did you? If you won’t keep looking then I will.”

  Her words stung more than her blows, but he pulled her close, trapping her fists between them. “Neither one of us is going back out there tonight. We won’t do Grace any good by tripping all over ourselves in the dark. The kidnapper has obviously gone to ground somewhere—we could pass right by her any number of times and not find her.”

  Her eyes blazed up at him, angry and defiant. “That’s not true. You should at least be able to hear her. You promised to bring her back to me. Grace wouldn’t be totally quiet while so much was going on, especially if she hasn’t had her dinner. Not unless—”

  He put a hand to her lips. “Shh. Don’t think that way. Grace is fine. Why would the girl take her if she didn’t want her for herself?”

  Her angry determination finally gave way to resignation. “Oh, Cam, why did she take Grace? It makes no sense.”

  He almost preferred her anger to this air of numb defeat. “As soon as we find her, we’ll ask her,” he said as bracingly as he could. “And we will find her.” He gently squeezed her arms then released her. “Now, let’s go inside where we can sit.”

  She nodded and allowed him to lead the way back to the cottage.

  Agnes straightened as they approached. “You must be tired and hungry,” she said to Cam. “There’s still some food left from dinner.”

  He cut a quick glance Nora’s way. Would she want him at her table or was she still angry? “I wouldn’t turn down a bite to eat.”

  With a nod, Agnes moved down the hall, tugging James along with her.

  Gavin remained just inside the doorway. “Any sign of her at all?”

  “Nothing concrete.” Cam turned back to Nora. “Why don’t you go on with Agnes and I’ll follow in a minute.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  He tapped her chin then traced an X over his chest. “Cross my heart, there’s nothing new to report. I just need a word with my deputy.”

  She didn’t appear convinced, but finally nodded and then trudged down the hall toward the kitchen.

  He turned back to Gavin. “I think the kidnapper has a home base of some sort where she’s been hiding these past few weeks. We’ll need to thoroughly search all of the inlets and woodlands. For now, go on back to town and get some sleep. Pass the word that we’re starting again at first light and that the sheriff’s office will be the gathering point. And we need everyone to report on any abandoned outbuildings, thickets and caves they can think of where someone wanting to hide might take refuge.”

  Gavin nodded, his expression sober. “Do you really think we’ll find her?”

  “We have to.” He couldn’t let himself believe otherwise. If for no other reason than Nora needed him to be strong. “You can take my horse. No point in you doing any more walking than you have to.”

  “But what about you? No offense, but you must be worn out. It wouldn’t be right for me to ride and you to walk. Unless you’re planning to take Miss Nora’s horse.”

  “I’m not planning to take Miss Nora’s horse and I don’t intend to do any more walking tonight.” At Gavin’s confused expression, he elaborated. “I’m staying right here.”

  Gavin’s brow rose to near his hairline. “You mean all night?”

  “That’s exactly what I mean.” Though he had a feeling he’d have to argue the point with Nora. “Someone should be here in case the kidnapper tries to come back. Just make certain you have Fletch back here at first light.”

  For a minute it looked as if Gavin would say more, but apparently the boy thought better of it. With a nod he stuffed his hands in his pockets and moved toward the paddock.

  James met him in the hallway as soon as he stepped inside the house. “Don’t mind what Nora said,” the older man told him. “We all know you’re doing your best.”

  Not Nora. “Apparently my best isn’t good enough.”

  “Don’t say that.” James patted his shoulder. “You’re going to find our Grace and bring her back. Just have faith.”

  Cam desperately hoped James was right. When he entered the kitchen Agnes was just setting a glass of what looked like apple cider on the table. Nora stood next to the counter with her arms wrapped around herself as if she were afraid she would fly apart otherwise. A heaping plate of food sat on the table, ready for him.

  Agnes tsked when she saw him. “Your arm is bleeding. You should have
said something.”

  Cam, who’d barely felt any of the scrapes and scratches he’d received, looked down to see a particularly deep scratch above his wrist, covered with dried blood and dirt. He grimaced as he studied it. “Sorry, but I don’t think I tracked any blood into your house.”

  Agnes waved that comment away. “As if that was what I was worried about. Nora, see if it needs bandaging while I finish getting his meal served.”

  Nora nodded and motioned him over, but didn’t speak and didn’t meet his gaze.

  Cam washed his hands and face, then let her take a look at his cut.

  “It’s started bleeding again,” she said dully, “but it looks clean and not too deep.” Her gaze remained fixed on his arm. “I don’t think it’ll need much doctoring beyond wrapping it.”

  She put words to action, winding a long strip of gauzy cloth around his wrist.

  Though she seemed to have her emotions under control, she still wouldn’t look up to meet his gaze. Was it deliberate? Was she still angry that he’d failed to find Grace?

  He couldn’t blame her—he was angry at himself, as well. This was partly his fault. If he’d tried harder to find the girl after she took his horse or if he’d warned Nora to take extra precautions because the criminal might still be skulking around here, then maybe Grace would never have been taken in the first place.

  As Cam took his place at the table, Agnes stood. “If you will excuse us, James and I are going to retire for the night.” She eyed Nora. “Don’t you worry about cleaning the kitchen tonight—I’ll take care of that in the morning.”

  Nora nodded, but didn’t respond otherwise.

  Cam ate in silence, watching her peripherally as he did so. She stood as if carved from stone, stiff, silent and cold.

  Finally he couldn’t take the silence any longer. “Do you want me to send word to your sisters?”

  “No, thank you.” Her tone was flat, unemotional. “I’m not certain we could get word to Bridget before she’s due to head back. And Maeve and Flynn have those burn patients to tend to.”

  She had obviously already given this some thought.

  Nora took a deep, ragged breath. “Besides, we’ll have Grace back before either of them can get here.” Her fierce expression dared him to disagree.

  Cam made a noncommittal sound, not trusting himself to say the right thing at this point.

  She rubbed both her arms. “I saw you send Gavin off on Fletch. I want you to take Amber when you go, and please don’t argue with me. You need to be at your best tomorrow when you start the search again.”

  So she wasn’t totally oblivious to what was going on around her. “There’s no need. I’m not going anywhere.”

  He was surprised when she didn’t immediately protest.

  “That sofa in your parlor is bed enough for me for the time being.” He braced himself for her to argue with him now that she’d had a moment. It said something about her state of mind that she merely nodded.

  The dark smudges under her eyes worried him, as did the fragility of her appearance. If only he had the right to hold her and offer her a bit of comfort. “I know you probably think sleeping is an impossibility right now,” he said as he stood, “but it’s best if you at least try to rest.” He carried his plate to the counter and she drew herself in as he passed, as if wanting to avoid the least bit of contact.

  He wasn’t certain how much more of this he could take. “Tomorrow is going to be a long day,” he said gruffly. “So upstairs with you.”

  For a moment he thought she’d argue. The Nora of this morning certainly would have. But this Nora didn’t say a word.

  After a moment she pushed away from the counter. “I’ll lay a sheet on the sofa for you. Good night.” The words were uttered in a hoarse whisper, then she crossed the room and headed for the stairs. Cam had to force himself not to go after her.

  But even if he did, what then?

  He sat back down at the table, folded his hands and bent his head. God, I know I messed things up in a big way again, but please don’t let that sweet little girl suffer for my mistakes. Do what You will to me, but bring Grace back home to Nora.

  And to me.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cam was a young boy again and a woman was crying, hunched over so he couldn’t see her face. But he knew the sound of that sobbing and knew it was his mother. He wanted to help her but his feet remained rooted to the floor. Then the figure shimmered and changed and now it was Vera McCauley holding the broken body of her three-year-old son. She looked up at him and her tearstained face twisted into a mask of hatred. Still, he couldn’t move and couldn’t look away.

  Cam struggled to wake up, aware that he was having that old nightmare, but unable to escape from it. Then the image changed again. Now it was Nora, sobbing over a too-still Grace.

  No! This wasn’t real.

  Finally he woke, flailing at the tangled sheet, damp from his sweat, breathless from the effort to push through. He ran a shaky hand through his hair. It had been years since he’d had that nightmare. He’d thought—hoped—it was gone for good. Now it was back, with an additional ugly twist.

  He sat there for a moment, waiting for his racing pulse to slow, for his ragged breathing to return to normal.

  Then his head came up. What was that noise? Cam forced himself to go very still, straining to hear. A moment later he heard the sound of muffled movements coming from the kitchen. Had the kidnapper returned? Between one heartbeat and the next he was on his feet and moving stealthily into the hallway. The sounds were more evident now and there was soft lamplight spilling out from the kitchen doorway. Whoever was in there was being mighty bold. Or mighty careless.

  He reached the end of the hall, his senses on full alert, his body ready to pounce on whoever had dared break into Nora’s home.

  The rattle of dishes brought his brow up. Had the intruder decided to steal a meal? “Stop right there,” he ordered as he stepped into the room.

  With a tiny squeak of fright, the shadowy figure spun around to face him, a hand to her chest.

  It was Nora. He was disappointed not to be facing the kidnapper, but it wouldn’t do to let her see that. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  She took a deep breath. “That’s okay. I hope all my fumbling around in here didn’t wake you.”

  “No, I woke on my own.” No need to mention his nightmare.

  “I couldn’t sleep either. I thought I’d come down and fix a cup of cocoa. Would you like some?”

  “That sounds good.” What sounded even better was that there was no hardness, no hint of accusation in her tone.

  She added some extra milk to the pan on the stove, then stirred in some cocoa powder and sugar.

  A few minutes later she had poured them each a cup and carried them to the table. But she didn’t take a seat right away. She took a deep breath and then met his gaze. “I want to apologize for the way I acted earlier.”

  The tightness in his chest loosened the tiniest bit. “There’s no need for that.”

  “Yes there is. I know with complete certainty that you did absolutely everything you could. And I know that you’ll keep looking. You’ve been nothing but kind to me ever since I arrived here and there’s no excuse for me to say such awful things to you.”

  Cam wished he deserved such accolades. “I know this is hard on you. If beating on my chest and yelling at me helps you feel better, then you just go right ahead.”

  She gave him a watery version of her normally dry smile. “You may live to regret you said that.”

  “It’s all part of being the sheriff,” he said, trying to match her tone. Then he sobered. “We’re going to start back up at first light. Nearly every able-bodied man in town will be out looking.”

  She nodded and swallowed. Her eyes cut toward the baby bottle that still sat on the counter, waiting. Her clasped hands tightened, whitening with the effort.

  He moved closer, touching her arm, trying to comfort her
with his presence. “Grace will be all right.” Please God, let that be true.

  “That awful girl should have taken the bottle, too. How will she feed her? What will she feed her? Does she even have access to fresh milk?” Nora met his gaze, her eyes filled with unshed tears. “Oh, Cam, my baby is out there, probably frightened and hungry.”

  “Ah, Nora honey.” He opened his arms and she stepped into them. He hugged her in a protective embrace, aching to do more, knowing it wouldn’t be fair to her, and wouldn’t be enough for him. Her tall, slender form felt so soft, so fragile. She was trembling and he longed to protect her from all hurts, all ugliness, to slay any dragon that would dare approach her. But he knew with aching certainty that there was nothing he could do that would ease this particular pain. She probably wasn’t even fully aware that his arms were around her.

  So instead he just stood there, silently holding her, trying to wrap her in whatever comfort he could provide by his presence. He swayed, almost as if they were dancing, until finally her trembling stopped.

  “She’ll be all right,” he whispered. “We will get Grace back safely.” Dear God, please don’t let me fail another child, another mother.

  Don’t let me fail Nora.

  He couldn’t resist planting one soft kiss to the top of her head. Nora turned her face up at that and suddenly his lips were on hers. She didn’t push him away; in fact, her arms went around his neck. She tasted sweet and innocent and totally wonderful. He wanted to communicate all he was feeling into that kiss—all of his protective urges, his desire to comfort her and absorb her hurts, his love—

  That thought drew him up short and he used every bit of willpower he had to pull away.

  Nora looked up at him, her eyes wide, her expression confused. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with hands that visibly shook. “I’m sorry. I—”

  “Don’t you dare apologize.” Didn’t she realize it was him who’d taken advantage of her? He took a deep breath. “We’re both tired and worried, that’s all.”

  Something in her expression flickered, there and gone before he could identify it. She nodded and swallowed hard, then gave him a shaky smile. “I’m afraid our cocoa has gotten cold.”