“What’s in the room?”
“The usual stuff. A shelf with flowers and cards. A balloon bouquet. A little plastic crib.” She sucked in a breath. “Oh, he’s beautiful.”
“Who?”
“The baby. He has the sweetest little face, and his mouth is pouty. His hair...oh, his hair is the softest stuff I’ve ever touched. It’s dark with a curl by his ear.”
“What else, Shaine? Look around.”
“He’s wrapped in a faded blanket that smells hospital clean. There’s a blue card above his head.”
“Read it.”
“‘Pruitt. Six pounds, five ounces, Dr. James.”’
He watched her face as she enjoyed the tranquil scene, not disturbing her again. Finally she opened her eyes and blinked to focus on him.
He smiled at her.
“I saw Audrey’s baby.”
“You sure did. Did she know it’s a boy?”
She nodded. “They told her that months ago.”
“And you knew her doctor’s name?”
“I’m sure I’ve heard her mention it.” She examined the ring in her hand. “But now I know what he’ll look like and how much he’ll weigh.”
Austin couldn’t suppress a chuckle. He took the ring from her and slipped it on his little finger.
“I have the feeling you planned this for a reason. Austin, what does this prove?”
“You’ve only been seeing the future,” he said.
“What?”
“All the dreams you’ve had, all the visions, they all took place in the future. You saw the Deets boy as he’d be the next day, and your navigating instinct led you to the body. You saw his mother before she was on television. You saw Daisy before you got to Colorado.”
“I saw Tommy hurt in the woods,” she went on for him. “But what about the Jenkins girl and the McCullough woman?”
“You didn’t see the girl because she was dead. She’s in the past, but you saw her parents as they are today or tomorrow. You saw the McCullough woman as she’d be the next day or so, just as the detectives found her. She’d been a redhead, by the way, but she had brown hair when they talked to her.”
“That explains the hair dye. Then Toby...” she said, a furrow across her brow. “What does this say about Toby?”
“That you’re seeing him in the future.”
She grabbed his wrist. “Oh my God!”
“What?”
She jumped to her feet and raked her hair back. “Some of those things, some of those awful things may not have happened yet!”
He read the mixture of relief and dread on her face. If everything she’d seen was in the future, then it was entirely possible that the things she’d seen happen to Toby hadn’t come about yet.
On the other hand, if she couldn’t see into the past to learn what had become of the boy, they had no immediate way of preventing those things from happening.
He could probably teach her to access that aspect of her vision, but it would take too long.
The only way to do get the information they needed quickly enough would be through someone who could readily experience the past.
Someone...like him.
Chapter 12
He didn’t sleep that night. The sounds of traffic disturbed him. He needed to find a gym for a good workout. Shaine’s tiny apartment and the neighbors crushed in on him.
Even Shaine kept him awake, with a recurring dream that he wouldn’t allow her to experience.
All of those things were the cause of his unease.
Not the fact that he alone held the key to releasing Shaine from her torture and possibly finding the child he now agreed was probably alive.
It had been twenty years since he’d deliberately held an item and searched for its owner. He had sworn to himself that nothing could ever make him do it again. He had worked and strove and built a new life, a life that had nothing to do with taking on the burdensome cares of the world.
From time to time in the past, a tenacious relative or detective had sought him out. And he’d been able to convince them that nothing—not money or guilt tactics or threats—could make him break his vow.
Why then, when she hadn’t even asked, had the crazy thought of actively joining Shaine’s efforts skimmed across his mind?
He was tired, that was it, and antsy to get back to his mountain retreat. He was eager to get this thing over with and get his life back to normal.
Lying facing him, she sighed and kicked the covers off, the light from the streetlamp fingering through the blinds and revealing long shapely legs. Desire radiated through his once-sated body.
He touched her hair, straight and silky, her shoulder, smooth and lustrous, her hip, warm and bare. Sleeping with her was the most significant commitment he’d ever made to a woman. It was also one of the poorest choices he’d ever made concerning his own welfare. Sleeping together was more personal, more intimate than the act of lovemaking. Sleeping together meant knowing another person’s personal traits, their bathroom habits, their idiosyncrasies. Sleeping together meant waking up together.
And all that meant more involvement than he’d ever planned on. It meant caring. And he didn’t want to care.
She stirred beneath his hand, and he flattened his palm on her rounded bottom and brushed the velvety skin, thinking how perfect she was, how she seemed made just for him and his pleasure.
“Was I dreaming?” she asked sleepily.
“No.”
She snuggled closer. “Good. That means you feel this nice for real.”
He smiled against her hair. Her marvelous hands moved over his torso, stroked his chest, pulled his hand to her breast.
He kissed her, and she slid one leg over his hip.
He urged her astride him, and joined their bodies. Shaine inhaled sharply, followed his gentle urgings, and led them both to sublime exhaustion.
She lay in the crook of his arm, her head on the pad of his shoulder and savored the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm. He was thinking of leaving.
The alarming knowledge wounded her, though she’d known all along theirs was a fated relationship. He’d always been honest. But she’d been hungry for his attention, his affection.
For him their relationship was physical.
For her it was so much more.
She’d go on after it was over. Even living on the outskirts of the city with people in and out of the inn every day, she was pretty much a loner. She wasn’t her sister. She could get along fine with her own company. She had friends. She had the inn. A man was nice, but she didn’t have to have one to make her a whole person.
But after Austin, going on alone would be different. Because with him, she’d known more joy than she’d believed could be hers. In him she’d found someone who really knew her, and liked her for herself, in spite of her differences. For the first time she’d been herself without hesitation or reservation.
And although she told herself she could be a complete person without him, she wondered who she was kidding.
Shaine helped Audrey with the morning jobs and did the week’s shopping. They still had a week and a half left before the baby came, and after having left her for so long, she wanted to help all she could.
Dumping flour into a canister, she paused, the white cloud settling on the front of her sweatshirt, and digested what she’d just thought. A week and a half. She knew the exact day Audrey’s baby would arrive. How?
She called up the vision of the baby in the hospital, the flower-strewn room, the blue name card on the bassinet. There. The date had been there.
She grinned to herself, and continued putting the food away. This insight could have its advantages, she thought wryly. Should she tell Audrey what she knew?
Footsteps sounded overhead, and she stopped. Their guests had checked out, and more weren’t expected until the following day. Nick had another day job, but maybe Marge Andersen was doing some heavy cleaning.
Shaine climbed the stairs and peeked i
nto the room she’d heard the sounds coming from. A clunk and a few grunts led her hesitantly to the bathroom doorway.
Fully clothed, Austin stood in the antique bathtub wrestling with the shower head and a wrench.
“What do computer geeks know about plumbing?” she asked.
He turned to where she leaned against the doorjamb. “I live a long way from maintenance men, remember? Besides, you can learn a lot of useful stuff on the web.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and watched.
He finished and placed the tools in a metal box. “So, some old cow used to drink out of this tub, eh?”
“And before that,” she countered, “when it was an original fixture, some old cow probably took a bath in it.”
He laughed out loud, a rusty sound she hadn’t heard before, and she was glad she was the one who’d drawn it from him. “Think we’d fit?” he asked, with a lift of one arched brow.
“I don’t know. Want to sneak up and try tonight
He stepped out and looked at the tub. “If we got wedged in, someone would have to grease us to get us out.”
“Why don’t we just grease up before we get in?”
He turned and looked at her then, a look of teasing humor, but something more. Something almost sad. Almost pensive. She thought of her dream, the one of him in the window, and the torment she’d sensed. Never spoken between them was the fact that Austin had the ability to do what she didn’t seem able to. He was the one who glimpsed the past.
But she would never ask him. She remembered his anguish in the dream, and remembered, too, that she’d known she had the ability to take it from him.
Perhaps this was how it could be prevented. By not asking. If she’d seen Austin in the future, then she could prevent him from suffering that anguish. And she would.
She wanted to kiss him hard and keep him with her forever. She wanted him to go before it hurt more than this.
She wanted him to let her love him.
But of course, he wouldn’t. And she couldn’t.
She turned and hurried back to her groceries.
He found a gym in the phone book and borrowed Shaine’s car to go and work out. When he returned, she was sitting on the floor, looking through a photo album. “You’re late,” she said, glancing up.
“All those babes in their thongs distract me.” He dropped a bag near the door. “Can I do a couple loads of wash?”
“Sure. Did you eat?”
He shook his head.
“I’ll slice some of that roast and make you a couple of sandwiches.”
He caught her wrist before she could head for the kitchen. “No. Sit down.”
She frowned at his curt order, but his intense expression convinced her to listen to whatever he had to say. She dropped onto the sofa and waited.
He sat on the chair across from her, elbows draped on his widespread knees.
He’s leaving.
His dark gaze touched her face and softened.
She’d known it last night. Don’t prolong it. Just say it and go.
“You know, don’t you,” he began, “that there’s only one thing left to do?”
She nodded. Say goodbye.
“The ironic thing is, you’ve never asked it of me.” He gave a little snort. “If you’d have begged or cajoled I’d have said no. But you didn’t ask.”
Asked him not to leave? She wouldn’t do that. That wouldn’t be fair. Confused now, she asked, “Asked what?”
“What we both know I have to do.”
“You’re leaving.”
He blinked, brows climbing his forehead. “No, no, I’m not leaving.”
She closed her eyes. Seconds later, his warmth touched her knees and his hands took hers.
She opened her eyes to see him kneeling before her. “I’m not going anywhere. Is that what you thought?”
She nodded.
“No.” He hooked his hand behind her head and pulled her forward to kiss her. “I want to see this through with you. I want to help you find Toby.”
She’d tried to swallow her fear that she wasn’t going to find her nephew. Who would keep the dreams at bay when Austin was gone?
“I want to find him for you.”
“I know you do. You’ve done all you could to help me, and I—”
“No, I haven’t.”
She stared at him.
“There’s more I can do, and we both know it.”
Shaine’s heart took off like she’d been given a shot of adrenaline. He meant he’d do it! He meant he’d get impressions from Toby’s things for her! “But you turned that off years ago,” she said in disbelief. “You said you’d never do it again.”
“And I wouldn’t,” he replied. “Not for anyone but you.”
His willingness was too good to be true. Guilt surged inside, forcing her to be certain she wasn’t taking advantage of him. “That time I told you I’d sleep with you to help Toby—”
He covered her lips with his fingers. “Don’t even say it. That’s not what this is about.”
“But we—”
“No. What we have together is not about bargaining or ploys. Did you want to make love with me?”
“Yes.”
“And I wanted to make love with you. And I want to do this. That’s all there is to it.”
This was a monumental decision. Shaine didn’t take his offer lightly. Neither did she intend to argue with him any longer, for fear he’d change his mind. “Thank you.”
“Thank me later.”
“My gratitude doesn’t hang on what we find or don’t find. I’m thanking you now because you were willing to do this for me.”
He sat back on his heels and took a deep breath.
“When?” she asked. “Tonight? Tomorrow?”
“Might as well do it now. Where’s your key ring?”
She pointed to the divider between that room and the small kitchen.
He plucked the keys off the counter. “Sit tight.”
Nerves clenched Shaine’s stomach into a knot. She chewed her lip and waited for his return.
Minutes later, he appeared with both cartons they’d gone through previously. Shaine moved to sit on the floor beside him.
“What’s first?” she asked.
“Go for the gusto.” Boldly he reached into a carton and pulled out the worn bear. Shaine watched him make himself comfortable and take slow, deep breaths. He was relaxing, just as he’d taught her.
He held the bear between both palms, and she waited, her breath caught in her throat.
It had been so long. Could he still do it? Did he have the simple on-off switch he’d told her he had? What if he’d forgotten? Let the gift lay dormant too long?
It was taking too long, way too long. She bit her lip to keep from asking questions and distracting him.
The color beneath his tan deepened ever so slightly. She wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t been observing him so closely. Say something! Say anything!
Did he need her to talk him through it like he had her? Oh, she should have asked!
Minutes ticked by, and she wanted to scream.
Finally, calmly, he opened his eyes and set the stuffed toy down.
“Well?” she expelled in a gust of anticipation.
“He got it for his first birthday. There was a purple animal on the cake—”
“Barney!” she said excitedly.
“Whatever. Toby was happy and content. You were there.”
She nodded. “What else. Did you see Maggie?”
“I felt her more than saw her—sort of a warm, comforting presence. Sometimes it’s difficult to read from a baby’s perspective,” he said.
“Well, other things then. His cars.” She dug into the carton, found a plastic container filled with die-cast cars, opened it and held it toward him.
He took several cars and repeated his relaxation and concentration exercises, relating images of people and activities, but nothing that aided their search.
“You didn’t?”
“Nah. I was just warming up.”
She cast him a fierce look.
He grinned.
Her gaze drifted to the box of Maggie’s things.
Austin pulled it toward him. Gingerly he opened the flaps and looked in. “What shall I use?”
“The watch,” she replied without hesitation.
“Was she wearing it?”
Shaine nodded.
He took the watch and folded his long fingers over it. His eyes closed. His breathing was almost imperceptible.
Austin forced himself not to fight the searing spark that shot up his arm into his heart. His entire chest warmed, the sensation flooding to his abdomen. With steady control, he directed the energy toward unlocking the vision that grew stronger and clearer. It had been so long, so long since he’d been down this corridor, but maneuvering it was effortless.
A sensory onslaught threatened to overwhelm him, and he had to remember to back off to the edge and absorb the sights and sounds and colors and emotions at his own pace.
There were so many images, so many emotions and abstract entities to sort through, it took him a while to find the ones he wanted.
“She loves her son so much,” he said. He’d felt these emotions before, experienced them through relatives of missing persons. “Her regrets are destructive. I can identify her fear and rejection. They almost crush her, but she’s a fighter. She doesn’t want to be cheated or deprived. She wants to be a good mother.”
“She was a good mother,” Shaine.said softly.
Austin guided the energy away from the intense impressions, so he could isolate the incident he searched for without the overwhelming emotional distraction.
“A Sentra,” he said, catching a glimpse. “A red one.”
Shaine gasped. “That’s her car! The one that went into the river!”
He pedaled backward, sensing he’d gone too far past.
“I’m standing on a road. She walks toward me. I’m with a woman. Maggie gives us directions and points back the way we came. She’s nervous because the kid’s in the car, and she inches toward the Sentra.”
The Truth About Toby Page 13
