Bridge to Forever

by Rachel Ann Nunes

  “Give me a little time. I want to think about it some more. Pray.”

  “We’re still getting married?” His eyes suddenly reminded her of a little boy.

  She smiled and placed a playful kiss on his lips. “Of course! How about a few days after Thanksgiving so that we won’t miss sharing the holiday with the kids?”

  “I have a better idea. How about we get married a few days before Thanksgiving, and we delay leaving for Europe until after the holiday?” He lifted her hand and kissed it, beginning at her fingertips and working his way up her arm. By the time he arrived at her neck, Mickelle agreed that his plan was definitely better than hers.

  “Okay, you’re on,” she squealed, as his breath caused goose bumps to shudder throughout her body.

  “Whoohoo!” Damon shouted in triumph. He sprang to his feet and started for the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m going to round up the kids and take a swim.” He flexed his arms several times. “Yes, I think I definitely need to work off some steam.”

  She laughed. “Good, because I bought two new swimsuits today.” Now was as good a time as any to overcome the aversion she had to the pool house. Damon loved swimming and so did all the children.

  He pulled her to him one last time, kissing her thoroughly. This is heaven, Mickelle thought. What could possibly go wrong now?

  * * *

  From a group of close-growing trees on the neighboring property, Colton Scofield watched the family play in the pool through large glass windows covering one wall of the pool house. His warm breath made white clouds in the cold air. He lowered the binoculars. Mickelle seemed happy.

  He frowned. She’d been happy with him, too. But now she was ruining his plan, and he couldn’t afford to let her do that.

  Wiping his hands on his black outfit, he ran across the yard and down the long drive to his car, his path illuminated by the bright moonlight. A dog barked in the stillness.

  “She made the wrong choice,” he muttered. “The wrong choice.” He would show her just how wrong.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  On Halloween night Damon and Mickelle took the younger kids trick-or-treating, while Tanner and Bryan stayed home to give out (and eat) a huge bowl of treats. Belle and Jennie Anne were adorable in their princess costumes—Cinderella and Snow White—and Jeremy made a very believable Harry Potter. Mickelle had made the black costume herself last week, and already it was showing wear from Jeremy’s constant use.

  The evening was cold but bearable, and the kids had fun. The biggest tragedy was Jeremy losing the magic wand he’d so carefully painted. To stave off tears, Mickelle and Damon promised to help him make a new one. Back at home they ate chili and hot chocolate before digging into their bags of treats, carefully checked over by Mickelle and Damon.

  Jennie Anne ate only three of her candies, and stored the rest in her room. Mickelle noticed that she had a tendency to save everything, but in light of where she’d spent the past few years of her life, that wasn’t a big surprise. The counselor Jennie Anne was seeing assured Mickelle that the phase would pass. Until then, he advised Mickelle to allow Jennie Anne to hoard anything she wanted.

  They hadn’t yet found a trace of Nedda Chase, except a plane ticket to Arizona. There, she had completely disappeared. Their attorney didn’t think her absence mattered since there was a clear case for abandonment, and the note proved Nedda’s intention to transfer guardianship. They were undergoing state scrutiny now, but Mickelle was sure it was only a matter of time until they were granted full guardianship. Maybe then they could look into something more permanent.

  Life was full of possibilities.

  * * *

  “Everything ready?” Troy asked. His nerves were tight and were growing tighter with each passing moment, but the rest of him felt good. Real good. He had tossed back a couple of shots of straight whisky and was ready for action. He flexed his fingers and then cracked the knuckles.

  “Yes, everything’s perfect,” Colton replied brusquely. “Just get them to the van. You’ll have to time it right.”

  “I know, I know. But you sure that broad ain’t going in?”

  “It’s Friday, isn’t it? She only goes in on Tuesdays and Thursdays. The other days she waits in the car. You have to get them before they reach it. I’ll provide a distraction if it’s needed.”

  “What if she goes in anyhow?”

  “She won’t. She’s been doing the same thing every day since she moved.”

  “There’s always a chance.”

  “Then we abort and do it on Monday. But she won’t, you’ll see.”

  Troy got up from the chair and went to the bathroom. In front of the mirror, he adjusted the false beard he’d purchased the day before. With the beard and a hair inset that made him look mostly bald, he doubted anyone could identify him even if they saw him grab the brats. Just in case, he would wear a thick jacket and dark glasses. That should be enough. He was ready.

  * * *

  Friday morning Mickelle awoke with a nervous twinge in her stomach. She knew the feeling was due to the fancy dinner being held that evening, where she would be introduced to all of Damon’s most important clients and business associates. She, Damon’s fiancée—it was almost too much to believe.

  She shook her head, recalling all of the times Damon had found her with grass stains on her pants from playing soccer with the boys, dirt on her cheeks from working in the garden, or wilted hair from a water accident. She prayed that tonight she wouldn’t mess up by dropping something down her front or tripping on her long dress.

  Damon would pick her up at five-thirty and drive her to the hotel in Salt Lake. The dinner wasn’t scheduled until six-thirty, but they would need to arrive early to be sure everything was perfect and to be on hand to greet the guests as they arrived. Despite the butterflies in her stomach, Mickelle was excited about the evening because tonight would be her first official appearance. She was also glad that Brionney, as the wife of Damon’s partner, would be by her side.

  Cindi arrived at Wolfe Estates before lunch with most of Mickelle’s ordered clothes, including the dress she’d wear that night. “Try it on,” she ordered. “I want to make sure it’s right.”

  The dress was perfect, and as Mickelle spun before Cindi’s admiring stare, she knew she was beautiful and that Damon would appreciate the dress.

  “I wish I were as tall as you,” Cindi moaned.

  “That’s funny. I always wanted to be short.” Mickelle had always been on the tall side for a woman, like her grandmother.

  “You should get your hair done.”

  “I’m going to. I have an appointment at two.”

  “I’m glad for that. I mean, you look really great, but a swept-up hairdo will take his breath away.”

  Mickelle bid farewell to Cindi on the front porch where Old Bobby was trimming off the drying miniature roses on the porch railing. She felt sad as he pruned off her favorite blossoms—the ones with the vivid red on the outer part of the petals and bright yellow on the inner portions. Of course, they would grow again next spring, along with all of the other miniature roses planted along the porch, but she hated to see him cut them off and sweep them away.

  “What are these called, Bobby?” she asked the old man, rescuing a tiny rose that wasn’t as wilted or dried as the others. “These are my favorite.”

  The groundskeeper straightened from his work and smiled appreciatively at her dress. The action revealed startling white teeth in his tanned and weathered face. He scooped up one of the red and yellow blossoms and twirled it in his gloved hand. “You don’t know? Why, this here’s a Jennie Anne.”

  “A Jennie Anne?”

  His eyes crinkled as his smile widened. “Pretty, aren’t they? Red and bright on the outside, soft and yellow on the inside. Just like our Jennie Anne, or like she will be.”

  Mickelle held the rose in her hand as Old Bobby went back to his work. Jennie Anne, she thought, Jennie Ann
e. Had the child been named after a rose? Had Jennie Anne’s mother shared Mickelle’s love of these flowers?

  She could hardly wait to tell Jennie Anne. “Let’s plant more of these in the spring, Bobby. Lots more. I want them all around the tennis court and by the patio.”

  Old Bobby nodded his gray head, never one to speak unless he was spoken to, and then only if he had something to say.

  “Thank you.”

  Mickelle went inside the house to change back into her chocolate-colored pantsuit. With it she wore the pair of dark thick wool socks Damon had given her more than two months ago, his first gift ever, resulting from her first visit to his house. That day she had removed her shoes and found an embarrassing hole in her sock. Damon had laughed and shown her the even bigger hole in his. They were two of a kind, even from the beginning. Now every time she wore these socks, she felt his love as tangibly as if he were in the room.

  Hours later, after her hair appointment, Mickelle drove the Mercedes to Forbes to pick up Jeremy and the girls. She was in plenty of time to find a nice parking place out to the side of the building, where parents drove in to pick up their children. Parking quickly, her mind danced ahead to Brionney’s where she would collect Bryan and then on to the house where she would change for her special date.

  She hoped Tanner and Bryan wouldn’t find something to fight about while she was gone. Since their conversation the other night at dinner, there was a new wariness between them that hadn’t been there before. At least Bryan hadn’t snapped at Tanner for a few days. Count your many blessings, she thought with a smile.

  Jeremy reached the car first, as he always did. Belle would still be in the classroom, chatting with her friends and Mrs. Palmer, while Jennie Anne urged her to hurry.

  There’s plenty of time, Mickelle thought, checking her watch. If she went in, she’d likely get talking with Mrs. Palmer, and she didn’t have time for that today. She hummed as she waited, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel.

  She loved this car and had since the moment she had first sat inside—especially the hint of Damon’s scent that still lingered in the comfortable leather seats. In fact, she hadn’t driven the Metro but once since she had moved on to Wolfe Estates.

  “Mom, that guy is staring at you.”

  “What?”

  “Over there. The guy with the hat.” Jeremy pointed to an old brown van four cars to their left.

  “He’s not.”

  “He was.”

  Mickelle went back to her drumming, playing out the coming night’s events in her head. She couldn’t wait to see Damon’s eyes when he saw her in that dress. Tonight she was going to the ball!

  In the mirror, she checked her hair, swept up and teased into curls at the crown. It had turned out perfectly, but she wondered if she’d ever be able to copy the style. Maybe she and Brionney could practice on each other.

  Without thinking, she turned her head in the direction of the brown van. The driver’s eyes met hers across the large space. She couldn’t see what color they were or even the color of his hair. He glanced away immediately, but something about him was familiar. What?

  She looked at him again, but he’d donned dark glasses, though it wasn’t particularly bright outside. Where had she seen him before? The odd impression left her unsettled.

  Probably one of the parents at the school.

  Then the answer came to her like a revelation. “Colton!”

  “What?”

  “It’s Colton!” Her heart had gone into overdrive in the space of one beat. “What could he—the girls! Jeremy, lock the door and stay right here until I come back!”

  As she sprang from the car, she saw the driver of the brown van do the same. He yelled something across the narrow parking lot. Following his gaze, Mickelle saw a short, bearded, balding man in a big jacket near the door to the school. He had a hand on both Belle and Jennie Anne. When Belle saw Mickelle, she began struggling valiantly. She gave the stranger a sharp kick and pulled away. Screaming at the top of her lungs, she dashed toward Mickelle.

  The car seemed to come out of nowhere, hurtling at Belle. With a dull thump, she flew into the air. The car jerked to a stop.

  Mickelle ran to Belle, expecting that she would have sustained a few small bruises. To her horror, she saw Belle’s limp body lying on the blacktop, arms askew. Dear Father, no! Mickelle prayed.

  Belle still wasn’t moving. “Call an ambulance!” she screamed, but someone in the gathering crowd was already doing so. She checked Belle’s pulse and was relieved to find a strong heartbeat.

  The driver crouched down next to Mickelle. “I’m so sorry. She came out of nowhere. I wasn’t even going fast.”

  Mickelle nodded but was too frightened to speak. Belle seemed to be breathing. Why wouldn’t she awake?

  She heard Jeremy at her side. “Mom! Mom! Jennie Anne!” His blue eyes were wide, and he was having trouble speaking. Instead, he pointed at the brown van.

  Mickelle jumped to her feet, feeling torn in two. Was this how Colton had felt when he tried to save his twins? But no! He’d made that up. This was real.

  She had risen in time to see the brown van driving over the curb and into the street. “Stop!” she screamed, running a few feet. “That man took my daughter! Help! Oh, help!”

  There was a rush of questions that Mickelle tried to answer as best she could, her mind whirling, her heart aching. Someone called the police. She sat by Belle in the parking lot and wondered if she would now lose both the girls she had come to love as her own.

  “Is there someone I could call for you?” a voice asked. It was Mrs. Palmer, the girls’ teacher. By habit, Mickelle gave her Brionney’s number.

  The ambulance arrived, and the EMTs pushed back the crowd as they began to work on Belle. The day of Damon’s near drowning flashed vividly in Mickelle’s mind. Oh, please don’t let her die!

  The police arrived next, and Mickelle talked with them briefly as the EMTs placed Belle into the ambulance. She described the brown van, the balding man, and Colton Scofield. Her heart hurt so badly, she didn’t know if she would live for one more minute. Only Jeremy’s presence forced her not to give in to despair.

  Mickelle was glad to see Brionney arrive. She clung to her sister for a moment, drinking in her strength. “You stay with your aunt,” Mickelle told Jeremy. “I’ll see you very soon.” She climbed into the ambulance and reached for Belle’s limp hand.

  The ride to the Utah Valley Regional Medical Center in Provo took longer than Mickelle liked, but the ambulance personnel assured her that the nature of Belle’s injury required the capabilities of the larger hospital. “We suspect some serious internal injuries,” they told her. “And she’s having trouble breathing.”

  Mickelle closed her eyes and prayed with her entire being. Against the back of her lids she relived the frightened look on Jennie Anne’s face, and the way Belle had pulled away, screaming, from the stranger. What could she have done differently? Guilt lay like a heavy burden on her heart.

  On arrival at the hospital, Belle was rushed into emergency surgery, and Mickelle was left alone. In the sudden silence, Mickelle finally had a chance to call Damon.

  * * *

  Damon answered his cell phone. “Hi, honey,” he said cheerfully when he heard Mickelle’s voice.

  Mickelle began sobbing. “It’s Belle,” she mumbled through her tears. “And Jennie Anne. She’s gone, and Belle . . .”

  “Are they missing? They’ve done this before. Or Belle has. Remember? She’s probably rebelling about not being able to go to the dinner tonight, and I’ll bet she made Jennie Anne go along with her.”

  “No!” Mickelle’s voice was tortured. “Belle was hit by a car at the school. They took her into surgery. They can’t tell me—it doesn’t look good.”

  The realization of what Mickelle was saying bore down on him, bringing with it a terrible pain . . . and fear. “Where are you?”

  “In Provo.”

  “I’ll be right t
here.”

  It was only after he hung up and was in the Lexus that he realized he hadn’t found out what had happened to Jennie Anne. Was she missing?

  Mickelle met him in the emergency room. Her hair was beautifully swept up on her head, like a tragic heroine in a film, but it was the haunted look in her red-rimmed eyes that held his attention. “I haven’t heard anything,” she said as he hugged her.

  He held her back to peer into her worried face. “What about Jennie Anne?”

  “Colton took her. Oh, Damon, it was so terrible!” Her voice rose an octave. “There was Belle lying on the ground and that man taking off with Jennie Anne. He would have taken them both, if he could. He tried, but Belle fought and got away!”

  “Tell me slowly.” Damon listened as she recounted the events, feeling helpless to aid either the girls or Mickelle, whose guilt nearly leapt out of her face as she spoke. Horror, fear, anger, and a host of other emotions battled in his heart.

  “The worst was knowing I couldn’t help either of them.” Mickelle tried to wipe away the tears on her face, but more took their place. “I could never have made it to Jennie Anne in time, or to Belle before the accident. There was nothing I could do!”

  They clung to each other, watching and waiting. Mickelle’s family arrived, and leaders from the church had also come, bringing Tanner with them. They’d scarcely greeted each other when several police officers arrived to talk to Mickelle.

  “We have a license plate,” one of them said. “We should have something for you soon. The next few hours are crucial, as I’m sure you know they are in any kidnapping. Of course, the FBI has also been called in since kidnapping is a federal offense. They’ll be here soon.”

  In ten minutes the officers were gone. They had still received no word about Belle.