All That Remains

by Janice Kay Johnson

  Alec nodded, his face kind and still pitying, which she hated.

  “We probably can find her, but it might take a while. It would have helped if they’d owned their house, but they only rented. I was lucky to find someone who knew that much. No idea yet who the landlord is, or whether he has any records that will help.”

  “Oh.” She stood stock-still. “Well. Is there a library where I can use the computer?”

  “The one here in Saddler’s Mill is closed. There’s some water damage. You can use my computer at home, but with dial-up it’s torturously slow. We have high-speed at the police station and I’m told we’re back online. You’re welcome to try on your own, but I might get further. I promise I’ll start some searches.”

  It was tempting to burst into tears. So tempting she had to battle herself for a minute before she could say, without any quaver at all, “Thank you, Alec. For everything you’ve done. Now looking for Molly, too, first thing, when you must be worried about your own family and friends and neighbors. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate what you’ve done for me.” She even managed a smile. “And Abigail Alexa.”

  He opened his mouth to say something, but the redheaded nurse pushed through the swinging doors with, of all things, a wheeled suitcase.

  “Here’s the clothes for your cutie, and we’re loaded at home with luggage—way more than we need—so I thought this might make life easier for you. No, don’t argue. I wish I could do more.” She looked rueful. “Unfortunately, you and I aren’t even close to the same size, so my clothes wouldn’t do you a speck of good.”

  Wren had to laugh. The other woman had to be five foot ten and was statuesque. “No, I don’t suppose they would.” She thanked her again, and then the nurse was called away, leaving Wren standing there with Alec.

  “Well,” she said, feeling awkward, “I’d better get going.”

  He frowned. “Get going? Where did you have in mind?”

  “I thought one of the shelters. I understand a few people have been able to go home, so there should be room.”

  “You shouldn’t go to a shelter with a newborn. You can stay with me.”

  She stared at him. “What?”

  There were still creases between his dark eyebrows, but she couldn’t exactly call it a frown anymore. He looked more as if he was disconcerted. Because he’d blurted out an invitation he hadn’t intended to make?

  “I have plenty of room,” he said slowly. “Too much—the house has four bedrooms.”

  She wasn’t any genius at reading other people’s thoughts—if she had been, James wouldn’t have been able to fool her so easily. But right now, Wren could swear she knew what Alec was thinking. Feeling. He was uncomfortable at what he’d offered, but also determined. He didn’t want her in his house, or maybe he didn’t want the bother of having a baby who would wake crying at all hours. But he’d abandoned his boat and leaped for the attic windowsill because she needed him, and he thought she still did.

  I do. It was a silent cry, one she would never let him hear. Because she knew she couldn’t accept any more from him. He’d given so much already. Other people needed him, too. More. He hadn’t said whether he’d found his sister and her family yet, and because of his job all the citizens in the county relied on him, too.

  “That’s so nice of you,” she said. “But unnecessary. Gosh, have you found your sister yet? Surely her family will need to stay with you?”

  “I found them. Their house is high and dry so they don’t need me. And you do. I want to know you’re safe until we locate James and you have a plan for the future. You’ll be on your own all day while I’m at work, but even if he shows up he’d have no way to trace you to my place.”

  No waffling allowed. He’d made up his mind, and assumed he’d made up hers, too.

  “Alec…lots of people are in need right now.”

  “We’ve been through something unusual together.” Looking right into her eyes, his voice low and husky, he said, “Let me do this for you, Wren.”

  Her pride and determination to stand on her own collapsed. “Thank you. We would love to stay with you.”

  He reached for the handle of the suitcase. “Let’s get you settled, then.”

  She hurried after him as he strode away. “Wait! Don’t I have to talk about payment with them, or—”

  “I already stopped by the business office. We can handle it later. I picked up a car seat from them, too.” He glanced back as the automatic doors opened for them. “Wait here, and I’ll pick you up.”

  It was definitely an order. He was in cop mode. As she snapped her mouth shut and dutifully waited instead of traipsing across the parking lot after him, Wren struggled with uneasiness she didn’t fully understand. Shouldn’t she be glad to know that his offer hadn’t been an impulse? Which it couldn’t have been, not if he’d gone to the trouble of getting a car seat already. So why did she feel anxious instead of happy?

  Dumb question. She had every reason in the world to be worried about an alpha male deciding to take charge of her. Only…Alec wasn’t anything like James. All she had to do was remember how gentle and kind he’d been to know that. She should be grateful he’d thought of a car seat rather than alarmed because he’d made such a huge assumption.

  A black SUV pulled to a stop at the curb, and Alec got out. He’d already figured out how the car seat worked and now helped her strap Abby in, then opened the front passenger door for Wren. He even put a hand under her elbow to boost her in. When he went around to the driver’s side and climbed behind the wheel, she saw him glance to be sure she’d buckled herself up. “It’s not far,” he said. “Ten minutes.”

  Wren nodded. She should be thinking of practicalities, but couldn’t seem to wrap her mind around what she needed to do. Maybe she was suffering from some sort of shock. She wanted a meal—a real, honest to goodness meal—and clean sheets on a comfy mattress. Figuring out how to replace a driver’s license from another state—that seemed to be beyond her.

  They must have driven for five minutes in silence when Alec said, “I figure we can scrape up dinner, and I’ll run to the grocery store afterward. Make sure you’re okay for tomorrow.”

  A bubble of laughter escaped. “Pretty much anything that’s actually heated on the stove would taste good.”

  A smile flickered on his mouth. “No kidding. I have to admit, I’d have run through McDonald’s earlier and grabbed a Big Mac if they’d been open.”

  “Flooded?”

  “Yeah. No major damage, but the building got its feet wet.”

  She was surprised, looking around as he drove, that there was a McDonald’s here. Saddler’s Mill wasn’t big, and there didn’t seem to be much new construction. It was picturesque, especially the oldest parts that probably dated from the nineteenth century. The core of the town had been built on a bluff high enough above the river to save it from the worst of the flood. The businesses on the main street looked as if they’d been passed from father to son for several generations. She didn’t see any chain stores. But the town had expanded, probably in later years, onto lower lying land that had been enveloped by the rising river. She could see whole streets below where only the upper stories of houses and telephone poles showed above water. The sight was horrifying and weirdly awe-inspiring.

  “People must have lost everything,” she murmured.

  Alec was silent for a minute. “Yeah,” he said finally. “I picked up people who didn’t have time to grab a family photo album or their purses or wallets. You’re not the only one who doesn’t even have ID. And Saddler’s Mill isn’t in as bad shape as Mountfort, the county seat. I plucked people off rooftops there. The water rose so damn fast.”

  She remembered. Trudging up the rutted lane that was been no more than muddy, then waking a couple of hours later, if that, to water already knee-deep in the house.

  He pulled into a driveway that led into a single-car detached garage beside an aging two-story house. The house was neatly if unimaginative
ly painted white, had a deep porch that spanned the entire front and small-paned windows covered by what she thought might be storm windows. She’d never seen any before. Roses, neatly pruned, lined a front walk.

  “Are you a gardener?” she asked.

  “No.” His voice was unusually clipped. “This was my mother’s house. I’m just trying to take care of it.”

  It bothered her to picture him out here joylessly weeding and pruning and mowing out of a sense of duty and not even pride of ownership. Though plenty of people considered yard upkeep to be a necessary evil and not fun, didn’t they?

  Abby had fallen asleep, and Alec took the whole car seat out with her in it. Pulling her red suitcase, Wren followed him to the porch and waited while he unlocked.

  The entry held a spiral-legged side table and an old oak coatrack. Stairs opened ahead. To one side was a formal dining room, to the other a parlor. Well, really a living room, but Wren didn’t see a TV or a recliner or anything that wasn’t old-ladyish. There were crocheted doilies on the arms of the sofa and chairs, for goodness sakes. Alec didn’t say anything, and, hovering behind him, Wren thought how empty the house felt, as if no one had lived in it for a while. Except Alec did.

  “I haven’t changed much,” he said, sounding a little uncomfortable, as if he was seeing it through her eyes. “And I guess Mom didn’t, either. She inherited the house from her aunt.”

  Trying to imagine him sprawled on that sofa, Wren said, “Edwina?”

  He gave a rough laugh. “I forgot we talked about my great-aunts. Actually, it was Pearl. They were sisters, but Great-Aunt Pearl never married. Edwina did and had children, too. Her husband took her away to Georgia. I’ve only met those cousins a couple of times.”

  “The house, um, looks like someone named Pearl should live here.”

  “Yeah.” He was looking ruefully at the living room. “It does, doesn’t it? I don’t so much as set foot in there. I have someone who comes around every couple of weeks to vacuum and dust.” His shoulders moved. “You know.”

  All those porcelain figurines would have to be dusted, wouldn’t they? It occurred to her to wonder if his daughters stayed with him. Nothing she could see looked remotely kid-proof.

  Oh, dear. What would his ex-wife think of him having Wren living here?

  She didn’t ask. She’d already discovered how he shut her down when she poked into his personal business.

  He suggested leaving Abby in the kitchen while they took the suitcase upstairs and he showed Wren where she’d be sleeping. Then he started work on dinner after insisting she sit and watch.

  The kitchen was old-fashioned, too, but cheerful with yellow-painted cabinets and yellow-and-white gingham curtains at the window over the deep double sink. A microwave sat on the counter. An obviously brand-new refrigerator was reassuringly shiny and white, but the range with gas burners showed its age.

  “At least you have electricity,” she realized.

  “I’m told it came on only this morning. I’m going to have to throw out a whole lot of food. And we’re lucky. A good part of the county doesn’t have it and won’t for who knows how long.”

  Wren kept looking around while Alec opened a can of what appeared to be baked beans. He mostly lived in here. The room was spacious enough to hold a farm table with chairs, and an upholstered rocking chair that faced the TV resting on one end of the counter. Sitting in that chair now, Wren gave an experimental push and her feet immediately left the floor as it reeled back. The chair was sized for him, not her. After a little thought, she tucked her feet under her and let it slow to a stop. She smiled at Abby, whose car seat was on the table. She slept with the intense concentration only a baby could achieve, her rosebud mouth open and her forehead wrinkled as if in deep thought. So, okay, her ears did stick out, but Alec was right—it was cute on her. Maybe with a little luck her hair would grow in curly like James’s, and could disguise the ears when she got to those awful teenage years. It would be nice if James’s genes had something useful to offer.

  “Are you sure I can’t help?” Wren asked.

  “This isn’t going to be fancy. Baked beans, canned peas, cornbread muffins that were frozen and still look okay. Heavy on the starch.” He grinned at her over his shoulder. “Sorry. No creamed corn. I can pick up some if you crave it.”

  She chuckled. “I can probably live without it.”

  “After dinner, we can make a grocery list.”

  Wren watched him stir the beans. “I don’t know if I can pay you back. I had cash instead of travelers’ checks. It never occurred to me…”

  He shook his head. “It wasn’t like you were heading abroad. And I know you don’t have any way of replacing that money, Wren. You need help right now, and I can give it. Okay?”

  It wasn’t easy to echo his okay, but she did. The only time in her life she hadn’t held a job was this past year when James insisted there was no reason for her to work some crap job when he made plenty.

  “Not when you know you’ll be going to grad school eventually,” he’d said. When she told him she still thought she ought to work, he got mad because she didn’t trust him to take care of her, and he accused her of wanting to be out there so she could meet other guys. And by then she was…not scared of him, exactly, but anxious not to upset him because it wasn’t worth it.

  And, wow, how dim could she have been?

  Dinner smelled amazingly good, considering, and the growl of her stomach roused her from her brooding. Alec set the table with a tub of margarine and a basket filled with the cornbread muffins that he’d heated in the microwave and plates.

  “It’ll have to be pop,” he said apologetically. “There was some orange juice in the freezer, but it’s oozing out of the can. And the milk…” He shrugged.

  “This looks fabulous,” she said with one hundred percent genuine enthusiasm, and he laughed.

  “You’re right. It does. It’s going to be a while before I can be picky again.”

  “Maybe never,” she agreed, and dug in.

  Of course Abby woke up before Wren had finished eating, but she was content with being jiggled on one arm while Wren unashamedly gobbled.

  After she was done, Alec said, “Tomorrow I can check with my sister if she has a bassinet or crib up in her attic that we can borrow. In the meantime, I thought maybe an empty drawer padded with something soft.”

  “That’s a good idea. I think there are some receiving blankets in that suitcase.”

  Abby was beginning to whimper, so Wren laid her down on the cushioned seat of the rocker and peeled off her soggy diaper. When she pulled a replacement from her bag of supplies, Alec said, “Oh, man. I didn’t even think about you needing those.”

  “At the hospital, they gave me half a dozen, but we’ll need more. I always intended to use cloth ones, but until I’m really settled that’s probably not very practical.”

  He didn’t say anything. She sat in the rocker and, doing her best to be discreet, lifted the scrub top enough for Abby to latch on. Looking at her daughter’s fuzzy head, she felt a renewed pang of fear. How and when would she and Abby actually be settled? Right now, she was totally dependent on charity.

  “I’ll have to call my mom.” She hadn’t even known she’d made the decision until she said it out loud. Wren looked up to find him watching her.

  “Did she know you were heading out here?”

  Feeling her cheeks heat, she ducked her head. “She doesn’t even know I was pregnant. At first, I thought I’d wait to tell her until James and I got married, and then… I knew I should leave him, and I was ashamed that I hadn’t. Mom would never understand. We didn’t talk all that often, so it was easy not to say anything.”

  “She’s not in Seattle?”

  Wren shook her head. “California. The Bay area. That’s where I grew up.”

  “Would she take you in?”

  She tried to picture herself and a baby in her mother’s small condo. “If she had to, I guess. She doesn’t reall
y have room, though. It would have to be temporary. And…” She bit her lip. “That’s where I met James. In San Rafael. So he knows where Mom lives.”

  “What are you going to tell her, then?”

  She shrugged and made a face. “Everything. I know she’ll send me money, at least. Then I can pay you back.”

  Exasperation flashed on his face. “What, for a few groceries? Don’t be so prickly.”

  She tensed. “I’m sorry.”

  He shoved back his chair and rose. At the abrupt motion and the sudden awareness of him looming over her, she instinctively curled around Abby.

  “You’re afraid of me.” Alec sounded incredulous.

  Wren closed her eyes and made herself breathe. In, out. Finally she lifted her gaze to him. “I’m sorry.” She winced at the expression on his face. She shouldn’t have said that again. “I couldn’t help it,” she whispered. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me. I do.”

  “That son of a bitch,” he growled, and turned away. “You can finish nursing in peace. I’ll go get a bed ready for Abby.”

  Wren was mad at herself even before he left the room. She hadn’t once felt scared of him, not until now. Wary when he got bossy, but that was different. She didn’t know why something about the way he moved this time had reminded her, for one painful moment, of James, of the time he hurt her, but it had. She hated knowing she’d probably hurt Alec’s feelings.

  One thing for sure, he wouldn’t welcome any more apologies. There had to be some other way to let him know that she did trust him. Like not cringing the next time he got too close. Wren sighed, and gently lifted Abby from her breast to burp her.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ALEC LEANED BACK in his desk chair, feet up on his desk and phone to his ear. He hated being on hold. Like most cops, he spent an irritating amount of time on hold, waiting for someone, somewhere, to look up information he needed. He rubbed his forehead, waiting for the ibuprofen to kick in. If he didn’t start sleeping better…