Lauren was perplexed. “Then how—”
“Train,” Vicky said. “Windrush was built by a railroad baron, and in his day that made it easily accessible. Still is the best way to reach the place. VIA Rail has regular scheduled stops at its station on one of its main lines to the coast.”
“What are our chances of getting on one of those trains?” Ethan asked her.
“Let’s find out.”
Vicky swung away from them in her swivel chair and began tapping keys on her computer. They waited tensely while she consulted the screen.
“Okay, here’s what we’ve got. The nearest station to us is Ida. The trains stop there to pick up passengers on their way west.”
Lauren nodded. “I know it. It’s a town straight north from Elkton on the other side of the border.”
“Yep, and less than two hours from here by car.” Vicky leaned toward the screen, frowning with concentration. “Too late for you to make the train that stops at Ida at seven-fifteen. But here’s another one at ten-o-five. That should give you plenty of time. It would put you down at Windrush first thing in the morning. Oh, blast.”
“What?” Lauren anxiously asked.
“It’s fully booked. No space available, not even in coach. Wait. Here’s a bedroom that was canceled. Just the one.”
Lauren didn’t let herself examine the treacherous prospect of sharing a compact bedroom overnight with Ethan. “Reserve it,” she said without hesitation.
Ethan’s own reaction was equally swift. “See if you can get us a room at Windrush while you’re at it.”
Minutes later, with accommodations on both the train and in the hotel secured for them, they thanked Vicky and got to their feet. Ethan spotted information on Windrush in the rack of travel folders just inside the front door.
“Can I?” he asked.
“Help yourself,” Vicky invited him. “That’s what they’re there for.”
The travel agent eyed his long-limbed figure with interest as he crossed the office to the rack. Turning to Lauren at her side, she murmured in an undertone, “I don’t know what the current relationship is between the two of you, and since it’s none of my business, I’m not about to ask. But, honey, he is definitely a keeper.”
Lauren didn’t know how to respond to that. She was saved from the necessity of a reply when Vicky must have suddenly decided that, with their situation as grave as it was, her observation had been inappropriate.
“Don’t mind me,” she hastily apologized. “And, uh, look, I’m going to be praying that you find Sara and bring her back where she belongs.”
Lauren folded her friend in a quick embrace. Then, before either of them could surrender to their emotions, she headed for the door.
Once out on the street, she turned to Ethan, who had followed her from the office. “There’s no time to go back to the cabin and pack, but I would like to make a fast stop at the discount center over in the next block. It’s open all night, and I need to buy at least a change of clothing and some other essentials.”
“Yeah, I’d better pick up a few things myself.”
Lauren gazed down at herself under the glow of a street light. “I hate to get on board that train like this. I smell of smoke, and my outfit looks like…well, like it’s been through a fire.”
“We both could use a cleanup.” He consulted his watch.
“It’s just after six. We’ve got enough time before we hit the highway for the discount center, as well as a shower at my motel. I should collect what I left there anyway and then check out.”
Lauren welcomed his suggestion. Less than half an hour later, bearing their purchases, they arrived at Ethan’s motel room.
“You take the bathroom first,” he said, switching on the lights. “There’s a phone call I’ve been wanting to make all afternoon, and this being the first opportunity for it…”
He left the rest unsaid. Mysteriously unsaid.
“Has that instinct of yours been talking to you again?” she asked him.
“Could be. I’ll tell you about it when we’re on the road.”
Lauren knew she had to be satisfied with that.
By seven-fifteen they were back in the car, with Ethan at the wheel again, and traveling north toward the border. The traffic was light, enabling them to make up for any lost time. And although the time of year made the hour as dark as midnight, the weather remained unseasonably mild. Lauren regarded all of this as a positive omen, maybe just because she needed to remain hopeful or lose her mind in her longing for her daughter.
With Elkton behind them, she was unable to quell her curiosity any longer. “You were just hanging up the phone when I got out of the bathroom. Was that because…”
“I had a long conversation, yeah.” He hesitated, and although she could sense his reluctance, he went on. “All right, I won’t keep you in suspense any longer. I was talking to a man in Seattle by the name of Donald Patterson. He’s a real workaholic, so I took a chance he’d still be in his office. Turns out he was. He usually does come back to his desk to clean up odds and ends after a day in court.”
“A lawyer?”
“Not just any lawyer, Lauren. Donald was my grandfather’s lawyer. He and his firm handled all of the old man’s affairs, so I knew he could tell me what I wanted to know.”
“About?”
Ethan, occupied with overtaking and passing an eighteen-wheeler, didn’t immediately answer her. Not until they were safely back in their lane did he continue.
“Jonathan Brand’s will. I wanted to know the exact contents of that will.”
Lauren was puzzled. “But weren’t you already familiar with what it contains?”
“You forget. I didn’t intend to benefit from it. So, beyond knowing I was supposed to inherit everything, I never bothered to learn its exact terms. Why would I, especially after I renounced my claim to the estate. But now…”
There was a tautness in his voice that made her uneasy. “What are you trying to tell me, Ethan? That there are surprises in that will, something connected with Sara’s abduction?”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure. It doesn’t make sense yet. Donald told me that he’d been urging my grandfather for years to rewrite his original will, but the old man never saw any reason to change it. So it still stands.”
“Meaning what?”
“That two-thirds of the estate was to go to Jonathan Brand’s eldest son. That was my father. The other third would go to his younger son, my Uncle Mac. If the sons failed to survive him, which they didn’t, then the estate would pass to their issue with the same division of all properties.”
“But you were the only issue.”
“Exactly. I was the sole grandchild, which meant everything was to come to me. And if I didn’t survive my grandfather or renounced my claim, which I have, then the whole thing would go to my issue.”
Lauren stared at him in a slow, fearful comprehension. “Are you saying…”
He didn’t turn his head to look at her. He kept his gaze on the road. “Yeah,” he said, his voice tighter than ever, “Sara is an heiress.”
“Dear God! And she’s been kidnapped by people who must have learned not only of her paternity but that she’s worth a fortune. Hilary Johnson could have discovered this and told them. It had to be her since she was in on—” Lauren broke off as another realization occurred to her. “But that can’t be right. How can they benefit from her abduction if they aren’t demanding a ransom?”
“No, that doesn’t make sense, unless…”
Ethan didn’t go on, as if he’d caught himself about to say something that he feared Lauren wouldn’t be able to bear. What? And then she remembered.
“All afternoon,” she said. “That’s what you told me back at the motel. “That all afternoon you’d been wanting to make a phone call. It was because of what both Rudy Lightfeather and Hilary Johnson said about your eyes, wasn’t it? That they were his eyes. You didn’t just dismiss that, either. It’s been on your mind ever since.”<
br />
She waited for Ethan’s response, but he remained silent, his gaze fixed on the highway.
“You have to tell me,” she insisted. “Don’t you see that not knowing what you’re thinking is worse than hearing you tell me just how much Sara is at risk? It is what has you worried, isn’t it? That you and the man who took our daughter might share more than just the color and shape of your eyes.”
“All right,” he finally admitted. “There is a chance this bastard could somehow be a Brand, though where he came from and how he could exist without my ever being aware of him is beyond me.”
“And that’s why you needed to know the exact terms of your grandfather’s will. Because if he, himself, is a legitimate heir—”
A new understanding suddenly struck her. A horrible one. “Ethan, you’ve renounced your claim, so that takes you out of the running. And if Sara—” The necessity of putting it into words made her sick, but it had to be said. “If Sara should be removed from the succession before her paternity can be verified, then what becomes of your grandfather’s fortune?”
“It gets divided among various charities. Providing there is no other direct issue.”
“And if another grandchild turns up and can prove his identity? Someone no one knew existed?”
“Then the entire estate goes to him.”
And it’s beginning to look like he has turned up and that he could even have been responsible for Jonathan Brand’s death. That’s what Lauren thought, and she knew Ethan was thinking it, as well. It was a staggering possibility, both incredible and real at the same time.
But as bad as the impact of it was, there was something worse. A chilling question that Lauren couldn’t bring herself to ask aloud. Surely Ethan must also be silently asking himself that same terrible question:
If the plan was to remove Sara from the succession, then why hasn’t she been eliminated altogether? Why is her abductor still keeping her alive?
Chapter Ten
Even in the dim glow of the car, she could see the concerned expression on Ethan’s face when he turned his head to look at her.
“He must have a good reason for keeping our baby alive and well, Lauren,” he tried to reassure her. “We have to hang on to that.”
So the same question had been gnawing at him. What’s more, he’d guessed without her having to tell him that it nagged at her, as well.
“Yes,” she said, clinging to what was both a hope and a dread. It was all she had, a blind faith that Sara would survive, that her abductor wasn’t going to sacrifice her because he had some vital need of her they had yet to learn.
“Anyway,” Ethan said, “all of this is still only so much speculation waiting for answers that might tell an entirely different story.”
“There isn’t much chance of our getting those answers tonight, either, is there? With the head start they had on us, they must have been able to make that seven-fifteen train.”
Providing, she thought, that Ida had been their destination. It was only logical to suppose it was, however, since Vicky Waller had indicated the train was the best method for reaching Windrush.
“There’s always the possibility of catching up with them before Windrush,” Ethan said, “but, no, it isn’t likely. Look, why don’t you try to sleep? We’ve still got a lot of road ahead of us, and I may need you to take a turn at the wheel.”
His suggestion was a sensible one. Lauren was exhausted after the long, eventful day and a nearly sleepless night before that. But, as worried as she was, she didn’t think it was possible for her to rest.
She surprised herself by drifting off within seconds of snuggling into the corner. When Ethan awakened her, they were approaching the border.
They were admitted through the port of entry with speedy efficiency. Tempting though it was, they resisted asking any questions about the couple they were pursuing. Their interest might have aroused suspicion and a delay they couldn’t afford. Nor were the Canadian officials apt to tell them anything she and Ethan hadn’t already learned from Deputy Wicowski’s inquiry.
Ethan surrendered the wheel to Lauren once the border was behind them and promptly went to sleep on the passenger side. Fresh from her nap, she drove on through the night.
Though on her own now in the silence, she was acutely aware of the man at her side. Against her better judgment, her gaze kept shooting in his direction, making her conscious of the power of that hard body sprawled in the seat, muscular legs stretched out in front of him, big hands locked across his trim waist.
His head was turned toward her so that she was able to see the cleft in the chin of his good-looking face and the way strands of his dark brown hair fell across his brow. Even relaxed like this in sleep, there was a strongly sensual quality about him. It was heightened by the whiffs she caught of his faintly spicy aftershave. That alone was a potent aphrodisiac.
She remembered what Vicky had said about Ethan. He is definitely a keeper. Her friend’s opinion had been a playful one, but there was a truth in her words that haunted Lauren.
She knew if she didn’t watch herself she would be long ing for something permanent with Ethan. And there was danger in that direction. She couldn’t forget what she had suffered throughout those long weeks following his abrupt and painful departure last year. Weeks without a word from him.
It had taken her months to recover from him. She couldn’t, wouldn’t let herself fall in love with him all over again, risk a repeat of that awful anguish. Because, face it, she had fallen in love with Ethan during that brief, but emotional, interlude they had shared.
Now, because the rescue of their daughter dictated it, they had been thrown together once again. But this time there was a difference, because there was more than just a sexual attraction that was always possible to overcome.
There was something much deeper. Something that involved a slow, mesmerizing recognition of the worth of the man beneath all that alluring bone and muscle. A warmth and a masculine strength that tugged at her. It was irresistible, but at the same time she was afraid to trust it. Afraid of being hurt by a love from which, this time, she might be unable to recover.
IDA WAS LOCATED just east of the division between the two provinces of Alberta and British Columbia. There was little to see in the town, which was already asleep when they reached it. In any case, they were interested in nothing but the railroad station.
An attendant at an all-night quick stop at the edge of Ida directed them to the station, which turned out to be a gingerbread affair situated at the center of the town.
A sizable parking area adjoined the station. Ethan checked his watch when they pulled into the lot.
“We’ve cut it a little close, but we’ve still got a comfortable fifteen minutes or so.”
Providing the train is on schedule, Lauren thought. She had been anxious about that on the long drive to Ida. Worried that, if they should miss it, they would lose this opportunity to reach Sara.
There was no agent to tell them if the train was on time. The station looked unoccupied as, locking the car and armed with their bags, they headed for the platform. Except for a lone figure who lay flat on a bench against the outside wall of the building, this, too, was deserted.
He was evidently asleep, with arms folded across his chest, although Lauren couldn’t be sure of this since the black Out-back hat he wore was pulled down over his face so that only his chin was visible.
Lauren set the bag she had acquired at the discount store, along with what it contained, under a pole lamp and went to the edge of the platform. She gazed up the tracks, but there was no sign or sound of an approaching train.
She was still watching for the train when she realized that Ethan was missing. Looking around, she saw that he had drifted toward the bench where he stood staring down at the man stretched on its length.
Puzzled, Lauren joined him. “What is it?”
“There’s a green feather stuck into the band of that hat.”
“What of it?”
“I know of only one guy who has a hat with a feather like that. It’s practically his signature.”
“Ethan, it’s just a coincidence. Come away before we wake him.”
“Too late,” came a deep voice from under the hat. Lifting his head and tipping the hat back from his face, the figure on the bench squinted up at them. “Looks like a man can’t even catch a snooze without some busybody discussing his hat.”
“Buddy Foley!”
The man sat up, swung his booted feet to the platform and grinned at Ethan. “Hell, I thought that voice of yours was familiar.”
Astonished, Lauren looked from Ethan to the man he had identified as Buddy Foley. “You know each other?”
“From Seattle,” Ethan said. “Buddy is a cop there.”
“Aw, you’ve gone and disillusioned her, Brand. She probably had me figured as a Canadian cowboy.”
He certainly looked like one, Lauren thought, watching the lanky figure in jeans and a fringed, suede jacket shove himself to his feet. But a cop?
She must have registered her alarm because Ethan offered her a quick explanation. “It’s all right. Buddy had nothing to do with the investigation of my grandfather’s murder. In fact, he was probably one of the few officers on the force who believed I was innocent.”
“Then how do you come to know—”
“We met each other through Donald Patterson. Buddy has done some detective work for the legal firm.”
“And if you ever breathe a word to the department that I’m moonlighting on the side,” he warned Lauren, the grin still hovering on his boyish face, “I’m gonna forget how much I’m standing here envying this lout. You gonna introduce me, Brand, or keep this goddess all to yourself?”
“Her name is Lauren McCrea, and that’s all you’re going to get.”
Buddy stuck out a hand, and she shook it. She wasn’t sure if the wink that followed was intended for her or Ethan. Buddy Foley was something of a scamp, but she found herself liking him. She sensed that Ethan felt the same, even if he did scowl at Buddy when he hung on to her hand a bit too long before finally releasing it.
Paternity Unknown Page 14
