by Irene Hannon
“Shut up!” The words hissed out as Shauna was yanked back again, the sound ugly and mean and feminine.
A woman.
Shauna didn’t have time to wonder what that might mean, didn’t have time to think about who it could be. Levi’s house was just yards away, and she ran toward it, desperate in a way she’d never been before. Please, God, let me reach it.
Something slammed into her side, the force so great, Shauna flew sideways. She tried to scream, but the sound caught in her throat, pain searing through her, making it difficult to breathe, to think, to fight.
She fell, barely feeling the ground as she landed. And then the woman was on her, pressing something against her throat. A piece of wood? A baseball bat? Shauna tried to claw free, but the first blow had knocked the breath from her lungs and darkness was already edging in, stealing her away.
And she knew she was going to die. Right there in her front yard, just feet from safety and from Levi.
Someone shouted, but Shauna could barely hear past the pulse of blood in her ears. There was a flurry of movement, a muffled scream, and she was free, air flowing into her burning lungs again.
She coughed, gagging as she tried to sit up.
“Stay down, Red, until we know what’s what.” Levi pressed her back, his touch gentle, his voice tight.
“Where is she?”
“The woman who was trying to choke you with a baseball bat? Out of commission.”
“You killed her?”
“Knocked her out. She didn’t give me a choice.” He brushed hair from Shauna’s cheek, and she was sure his hand was shaking.
She grabbed it, squeezing gently as she struggled to a sitting position. The woman lay a few feet away, a baseball bat on the ground nearby. Her face was familiar. Not a friend, but someone she’d seen recently. Someone who’d sat in her classroom just a few days ago. Shauna leaned close, sure she must be mistaken, that the woman unconscious on the ground wasn’t the same one who’d told her how much her son enjoyed being in Shauna’s class.
“Do you know her?” Levi asked, the sound of sirens nearly drowning out his words.
She did. What she didn’t know was why Nicolas Samuels’ mother wanted her dead.
Chapter Twenty
Levi had never been good at waiting, and waiting for the doctor to finish examining Shauna was torture. He glanced at his watch, frowning. She’d been in triage for a little over an hour. What was taking so long?
“Levi?”
He turned, saw Shauna walking through the double wide doors that led from the treatment area. She was parchment pale, dark bruises on her neck standing out in stark contrast to her pallid skin.
“You should be in a wheelchair, Red.” He crossed the room, pulled her into a gentle hug and was surprised when she burrowed close, resting her head on his chest.
“That’s what the nurse said, but I didn’t want to wait around for her to bring one.”
“Sit down. I’ll get one.”
“Don’t. It’s been a long night, and I just want to go home.” Her voice was raspy and worn, and he didn’t bother arguing. Just wrapped an arm around her waist and led her out to the parking lot.
He didn’t release his hold as he unlocked the car door, didn’t want to let her go. Didn’t want to imagine what would have happened if he hadn’t heard her scream.
Would he have walked outside in the morning and found her lying dead on the lawn?
His arm tightened around her waist, and she looked up into his face, pressed a palm to his cheek. “Don’t look so grim, Levi. I’m fine.”
“If Lily Samuels had had her way, you wouldn’t be.” He helped her into the passenger seat of the car, brushing his knuckles down her cheek. Her skin was warm and silky, life pulsing through it, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever been more thankful for anything in his life.
“Richard came into triage while the doctor was waiting for X-ray results. He said the police have been looking for her all day.”
“They knew she was after you?” If they had and had let the woman slip through their fingers—
“No. She was wanted for something else. He couldn’t tell me what, just that they have enough evidence to put her away for a long time.”
“Is she talking?”
“All she’s said is that I told her something during parent-teacher conferences that worried her. She wanted to make sure I didn’t spread it around.”
“So she thought she’d terrorize and kill you?”
“She’s insisting she wasn’t trying to kill me. She just wanted a drawing Nicolas made. I showed it to her during the conference, and she wanted to take it home. Since they were part of his class portfolio, I told her she’d have to wait until the end of the year.”
“What could a kid possibly draw that would make his mother stalk and attack another person?” It had to be something life altering—something that could have caused her serious trouble.
“Richard wouldn’t say, but I think I know.”
“Yeah?” He walked around the car and got into the
driver’s seat.
“The kids drew self-portraits for an art project. They all wrote their names at the top. Nicolas didn’t. He wrote ‘Eli.’”
“Eli?”
“Yes. And he refused to change it. He kept saying it was his real name. The one his father gave him. I told his mother that at the conference, and she laughed, but now...” Her voice trailed off, and she shrugged.
“You wonder if he was telling the truth.”
“I don’t wonder. I know.”
“Did she kidnap him, then?”
“I asked Richard that, and he wouldn’t comment.”
“Eventually, he’ll have to.” Levi pulled up in front of Shauna’s house and turned to face her.
“Eventually. For now, I’m just happy that Nicolas is in safe hands, and that I’m alive. Thanks to you. This is the second time you’ve saved my life.” She lifted his hand, pressed a kiss to his knuckles, the heat of her lips stealing his breath.
“I’d do it a million more times if I had to. You know that, right?”
“Let’s hope you don’t have to.” She opened the car door. “I’d better get inside. It’s late and both of us start our days early.”
“You’re planning to work tomorrow?” he asked as he cupped her elbow and helped her up the porch stairs.
“A couple of bruises aren’t enough to keep me from my students.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“Because you really do know me. Even after all these years.” She smiled, and Levi’s heart leaped.
“Does that mean you might be willing to have dinner with me tomorrow night?”
“It does.”
“And the night after that?”
“Probably.”
“Since you’re feeling so generous, maybe I can convince you to have dinner with me every night for the next fifty years.” He pressed a hand to her back, urging her close.
“You know, I don’t think it’ll take all that much convincing. I’ve been thinking that God had a reason for bringing us back together.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“To show us both that it doesn’t matter how big or small our dreams are as long as we’re dreaming them together,” she responded, and then she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled his head down and offered a kiss that required absolutely no convincing at all.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt of The Promise of Home by Kathryn Springer!
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired story.
You believe hearts can heal. Love Inspired stories show that faith, forgiveness and hope have the power to lift spirits and change lives—always.
Visit Harlequin.com to find your next great read.
We like you—why not like us on Facebook: Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks
Follow us on Twitter: Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks
Read our blog for all the latest news o
n our authors and books: HarlequinBlog.com
Subscribe to our newsletter for special offers, new releases, and more!
Harlequin.com/newsletters
Harlequin and Mills & Boon are joining forces in a global search for new authors.
In September 2012 we’re launching our biggest contest yet—with the prize of being published by the world’s leader in romance fiction!
Look for more information on our website, www.soyouthinkyoucanwrite.com
So you think you can write? Show us!
Chapter One
“Please follow the highlighted route—”
Jenna Gardner tapped the tiny screen on the GPS and silenced the voice of her invisible navigator once and for all. Not only because the high-tech gadget seemed to be as confused as she was by the tangled skein of roads winding around Mirror Lake, but because Jenna was tempted to take its advice.
She wanted to follow the highlighted route right back to her condo in the Twin Cities.
“You passed it, Aunt Jenna!”
A panicked cry reminded her that going home wasn’t an option. Not for awhile, anyway.
Jenna glanced in the rearview mirror. Once again, she experienced a jolt at the sight of the two children in the backseat.
Silver blond hair. Delicate features. Wide blue eyes.
Jenna had met Logan and Tori for the first time only three days ago. The children were practically strangers.
Strangers who were the mirror image of her younger sister, Shelly, as a child.
For a split second, Tori met Jenna’s gaze. Then she buried her face in the tattered scrap of pink flannel that doubled as a blanket.
Jenna pressed her lips together to prevent a sigh from escaping.
One step forward, two steps back, she reminded herself. The five-year-old girl was adjusting to the idea of having an aunt the same way Jenna was getting used to the idea of having a niece and nephew.
“You have to turn around,” Logan insisted.
“Are you sure?” Jenna tipped her Ray-Bans down and tried to peer through the hedge of wild sumac that bordered the road. “I don’t see anything.”
“Uh-huh. It’s back there.” Logan, the self-appointed spokesman for the two siblings, nodded vigorously.
Under the circumstances, Jenna was willing to give the boy the benefit of the doubt. She put the car in reverse and began to inch backwards.
In Minneapolis, a dozen horns would have instantly chastised her for the move. But here in the north woods of Wisconsin, the only complaint Jenna heard came from a squirrel perched on a branch near the side of the road. More than likely voicing its opinion on her presence rather than her driving skills.
She spotted a wide dirt path that could have been—if a person possessed a vivid imagination—a driveway.
Pulling in a deep breath, Jenna gave the steering wheel a comforting pat as she turned off the road. Her back teeth rattled in time with the suspension as the vehicle bumped its way through the potholes.
Logan leaned forward and pointed to something up ahead. “There it is.”
Well, that explained why Jenna had driven right past it.
She’d been looking for a house.
The weathered structure crouched in the shadow of a stately white pine looked more like a shed. Jenna’s gaze shifted from the rusty skeleton of an old lawn mower to the faded sheets tacked up in the windows.
Oh, Shelly.
Why hadn’t her younger sister admitted that she needed help? Why hadn’t she accepted Jenna’s offer to move in with her after Logan was born?
Throughout her pregnancy, Shelly had claimed that she and her musician boyfriend, Vance, planned to marry before the baby arrived. But when Jenna had visited her eighteen-year-old sister in the maternity wing of a Madison hospital, there hadn’t been a ring on Shelly’s finger. Not only that, she’d been alone. Faced with a choice, Vance had decided that a gig at a club in Dubuque was more important than being present for the birth of his child.
Shelly had made excuses for him—the same way their mother had made excuses for their father every time he’d walked out the door.
While Jenna was pleading with Shelly to return to Minneapolis with her, Vance had sauntered into the room. The guy might have been a mediocre guitar player, but his acting skills were nothing short of amazing. He’d apologized to Shelly for not being there and promised that she and the baby could travel with the band as their “good luck charms.”
When Jenna had asked her sister if she was willing to sentence her child to the nomadic lifestyle they’d experienced while growing up, Vance had turned on her. Accused her of being a troublemaker. He’d convinced Shelly that Jenna was jealous of their relationship and didn’t want them to be happy.
The stars in Shelly’s eyes had blinded her to the truth. She had embraced Vance—and turned her back on her only sister.
Jenna hadn’t seen or heard from her again. Had no idea where Shelly was or even how she and Logan were doing.
Until last week.
She’d been sitting at her desk, sipping an iced vanilla latte and working on her next column for Twin City Trends, when she received a telephone call from a social worker named Grace Eversea.
It didn’t matter how gently the young woman had tried to break the news, each piece of information had punctured a hole in Jenna’s heart.
A house fire. Shelly in a rehab center for prescription drug abuse. Seven-year-old Logan and Tori, the niece Jenna hadn’t even known existed, in temporary foster care.
As the children’s closest relative, Jenna had been asked if she would be willing to help. She could think of a dozen reasons why she shouldn’t get involved and only two—very small—reasons why she should.
Forty-eight hours later, after being granted a temporary leave of absence from the magazine, Jenna had packed her bags and driven to Mirror Lake, a small town where people knew each other’s name and each other’s business.
The kind of place she had deliberately avoided for the past ten years.
Her plan had been to take her niece and nephew back to Minnesota. But when Jenna met with Grace Eversea, the social worker had explained it would be in Logan and Tori’s best interest to remain in familiar surroundings for the time being.
Jenna could see the wisdom in Grace’s suggestion—especially after learning that Tori and Logan had run away when they’d heard that she was on her way to Mirror Lake to meet them.
Jenna and the children had already spent several days at the Mirror Lake Lodge at the invitation of Abby and Quinn O’Halloran, the couple who owned the charming bed-and-breakfast, but she didn’t want to impose on the newlyweds’ hospitality any longer than necessary.
Until Shelly returned, Jenna decided that her only option was to move into the cabin where the family had been living before the fire. She’d been assured there had been only minimal damage to the interior and the local fire chief had pronounced the structure safe and sound.
But now, looking at the place her niece and nephew had called home, Jenna wasn’t sure she agreed with either description.
“Are we getting out, Aunt Jenna?” Logan ventured.
Jenna realized she hadn’t moved.
“Of course we are.” Forcing a smile, she slid out of the driver’s seat and went around to open Tori’s door. “You’re first, Button.”
A corner of the blanket dropped, unveiling a pair of periwinkle eyes that stared back at her with guarded apprehension.
Jenna recognized the look of someone who no longer trusted easily, and her heart wrenched. Within the space of a few weeks the little girl had been separated from her mother and then from Kate Nichols, the foster care mother she’d become attached to, before being placed in Jenna’s care.
“It’s okay, Tori.” Logan patted his sister’s hand and the sweetness of the gesture pierced Jenna’s soul.
How many times had she comforted Shelly when they were growing up? Protected her from danger—both imaginary and real?
Jenna mentally pushed the thought away. Her life was different now. She was different now.
She reached for the buckle on the booster seat but Tori shrank back.
“Don’t wanna get out!”
Jenna hesitated, wondering if the little girl was remembering the night of the fire. Once again, the reality of what she’d agreed to flooded through her, eroding her confidence. She wasn’t a child psychologist. She wasn’t even the type of person that small children flocked to.
When it came right down to it, Jenna knew she was everything that two traumatized children didn’t need.
But right now, she was all they had.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Jenna summoned the bright, confident smile that had taken her from proofreader to Twin City Trend’s most popular columnist.
Tori leaned over and whispered something in her brother’s ear.
“She’s afraid of wolves.” To his credit, Logan didn’t laugh.
Jenna bent down and looked her niece in the eye. “You don’t have to worry about wolves, sweetheart. They stay away from people.”
Tori’s gaze fixed on something over Jenna’s shoulder. “Even that one?”
That one?
Jenna whirled around and felt her knees buckle.
An enormous animal, its shaggy coat a mottled patchwork of grays and browns, was slinking down the shoreline.
Keep going, keep going.
Almost as if it had heard Jenna’s silent plea, the creature paused for a moment and lifted its nose to the wind.
The wedge-shaped head swung in their direction.
Jenna’s breath gathered in her lungs as the animal changed direction and started to lope toward them.
* * *
Devlin McGuire had just finished unloading the last of the gear from his SUV when he heard a muffled shriek near the lake.
Definitely human. Unmistakably feminine.
Mirror Lake, both the town and the small body of water it had been named after, didn’t attract many tourists in the summer but Dev had noticed lights in the windows of the vacant cabin next door the last time he’d been home.
