“Small consolation,” she muttered as she paused on the back porch long enough to scrape the soles of her tennies on the mat, “but it’s better than nothing.”
The question was: What did she do now?
Keep moping?
Yeah, that was an attractive idea.
Just a few hours ago, she’d been arguing with Jackson, telling him that he was using what had happened in his life as an excuse to stop living his life. If she continued to do the same thing, what did that say about her?
Stepping into the kitchen, she threw a quick glance at the wall duck. Six forty-five. Mike wouldn’t be at Searchers’ office yet. If she called now, she could leave a message and not get dragged into a conversation she wasn’t up to having at the moment. Plus, she told herself as she marched through the kitchen and into the living room, once she left the message, there’d be no going back. She’d be committed.
Grabbing up the phone, Carla stared at the receiver for a long minute, thinking about this. Was she ready? Could she do it? And if she couldn’t, did she have any right to criticize Jackson?
Her fingers tightened on the steel gray phone. She bit her bottom lip, inhaled sharply, deeply, and then, before she could think any more about it, hit the number three speed dial button.
She waited, stomach churning, palms dampening. This was a number she hadn’t dialed in two years. A number she’d told herself she’d never call again. Her mouth went dry. Seconds clicked past and then her call connected and the phone in LA was ringing. She waited again. Four rings before the answering machine kicked in, then Mike Shaner’s deep, gravelly voice came on the line.
You have reached Searchers. If this is an emergency, hang up and dial three-two-three five-five-five seven-oh-oh-oh. Otherwise, please leave a message and we will return your call as soon as possible.
One long beep sounded and Carla hesitated—but only briefly. “Mike, it’s Carla.” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and said what she had to say quickly, before she could change her mind. “If you still want us, you can put Abbey and me back on your list of searchers. We’re ready to go back to work.”
She hung up quickly and waited for the panic to crawl through her. But it didn’t come. Her stomach was still a mass of knots, but she also felt a sense of … purpose, for the first time in two years. She’d done the right thing. It had taken her too long to do it, but the point was, it was now done. And she owed that to Jackson.
Despite the sting of his words, he’d at least given her the truth—as she’d done for him. The question was, Carla thought as she stared out the front window at the house across the street, what would Jackson do about his own truth?
* * *
“I know you don’t want to leave,” Jackson said, bracing himself against the flash of anger in his daughter’s eyes. It seemed all he did lately was annoy or disappoint the females in his life.
Starting last night and going right through this morning, when he’d picked Reese up from Mama Candellano’s house. His daughter and the older woman had been busily making chocolate chip pancakes when he’d arrived. Though he’d given Reese time to eat her creation and had a cup of coffee himself, he’d still scooted her away long before she was ready.
Funny. Just a few weeks ago, he’d been hoping that Reese would respond to him. Regain her sense of self. Communicate.
Now that she was, he was suffering for it.
Even silent, the child had no trouble at all making her fury known. One Scooby-Doo tennis shoe tapped against the driveway and her thin arms were folded across her narrow chest in a posture that had become all too familiar lately. His heart ached for her. She’d been so happy here. Come so far.
But it just wasn’t far enough. And now that things between him and Carla were bound to be strained, he couldn’t take the chance of Reese being affected. What if she slipped backward rather than advancing? No. He’d thought about this for hours and Jackson knew there was only one thing he could do.
He had to return to Chicago earlier than he’d planned. There was a chance, he told himself, that with Reese’s recent strides, the doctors the Barringtons wanted her to see would be able to help her come the rest of the way back. And if she hated him for taking her away from the place and people she loved … Jackson swallowed hard. Maybe she’d start speaking sooner, if only to yell at him for ruining her life.
Determined, he ignored his daughter’s mutinous glare and picked up her little tote bag, stowing it in the trunk of the car.
When her daddy walked past her, going into the house for the rest of the suitcases, Reese grabbed her tote bag out of the trunk and carried it to the side of the house.
She couldn’t go away.
She didn’t want to leave Carla and Abbey and Nana. She didn’t want to go back to Chicago.
The wind blew hard and Reese lifted one hand to rub tears out of her eyes. Her bottom lip quivered as she wondered what to do. Where should she go? If she stayed, Daddy would make her leave. She could run to Carla or Nana. She scraped the toe of her tennis shoe across the grass. No, she couldn’t. ’Cause they’d call Daddy and he’d come and then he’d take her away again.
Reese propped her back against the side of the house and slid down to the ground. Her bottom hit the grass hard and she whimpered a little. Until Abbey trotted up to her from the backyard. The big dog slipped her head beneath Reese’s arm and cuddled in close, licking and sniffing until Reese heaved a sigh and hugged Abbey’s neck really hard. Don’t be sad, Abbey. I won’t go away. I won’t leave you.
* * *
“Where’s Reese?”
Carla stepped back from the front door and waved Jackson inside. He moved past her, his gaze darting around the room, searching, even as he kept moving, walking through the house in long, hurried strides. By the time he was back in the living room looking at her, Carla had gotten over her surprise and was prepared to face him.
“Is she out back?” he demanded.
“Reese isn’t here,” Carla said, and for the first time noticed the fine edge of panic in his features.
“She has to be,” he told her, his voice tight, thick. “She would have come to say good-bye to Abbey. She loves that dog.”
“Abbey’s still at Mama’s. That’s probably where Reese went.”
“Okay, yeah. That’s probably it.” But he didn’t move.
“She’s saying good-bye?” Carla picked that one word out of the rest and focused on it. Something cold and ugly settled in her bones and sent out ribbonlike tentacles to every corner of her body.
Jackson braced his feet wide apart and shoved both hands into the back pockets of his jeans. He didn’t meet her gaze but looked away, as if still searching the room for his daughter. “We’re leaving. Going back to Chicago.”
“It’s not September yet,” she said, even as a voice in her mind was shouting, Stupid. He knows that. He just wants to get away from you!
“I know,” he said, shaking his head. “I just thought it’d be better for everyone if we left earlier than planned.”
A deep, throbbing ache blossomed in her chest and Carla winced with the pain of it. One night with her and he wanted thousands of miles separating them. Well, at least she had the answer to the question she’d wondered about earlier. Jackson had decided to keep running from his truth. To stay in hiding. To continue to make himself pay for a tragic accident that he hadn’t caused and was unable to prevent.
And along with the grief welling inside her came a surge of irritation. “So you were just going to leave. Without saying a word.”
He sucked in a gulp of air and finally met her gaze. “I thought we’d pretty much said it all last night, Carla.”
“Did you?” Tears clawed at the backs of her eyes, but she didn’t—wouldn’t—give in to them. “And didn’t like what you heard, apparently, since you’re picking up and moving back home.”
“I just thought it would be easier if we didn’t have to go through the whole summer seeing each other.”
“You.” He yanked his hands from his pockets, marched across the room, and grabbed her upper arms. His fingers pressed into her skin, and even through the fabric of her short-sleeved shirt she felt the heat of him right down to her bones. “Damn it, Carla, do you think I want to go?”
She tipped her head back and stared up into his lake-blue eyes, noting the banked fury sizzling on their surfaces. But she’d never backed down from anger in her life and she wasn’t about to start now. “Nobody’s forcing you to leave.”
“I know that. I was trying…” His words trailed off as his gaze moved over her, hot, hungry, furious, and yet so filled with yearning that Carla’s breath caught in her chest. “I was trying to do the right thing. By you.”
Again the stinging sensation of budding tears burned her eyes. “And you think the right thing to do is leave?”
“I don’t want to hurt you, Carla.”
“I know that.” Oddly enough, she really did know that. She felt it pouring from him in waves of concern and affection, and she wrapped those tender folds around her heart and held on tightly.
He loosened his grip on her arms but couldn’t quite bring himself to let her go completely. The pads of his thumbs caressed her and a ripple of something warm and silky slithered along her spine in response.
“It’s not like I want to go,” he admitted, his voice a deep scrape of sound that scratched at her heart and tugged at her soul. “But I can’t give you what you need. What you want.”
“And you know what I want?”
“I can guess,” he said, finally letting her go as if he couldn’t bear to touch her when he knew it would be for the last time.
“Is that right? Well then, let’s hear your best guess.”
“Love.” One word and it hung in the stillness between them.
Her heart bumped up against the wall of her chest and she felt its staggering beat. Carla swallowed hard and said, “Good guess.”
One corner of his mouth twitched up into a brief sad smile. “I can’t be what you need,” he said, and she could see that it cost him to admit it.
His features tight, his eyes glittering with a pain she shared, Carla knew that no matter what he felt for her, he wouldn’t allow himself to confess it. He was determined to pay for a mistake he hadn’t made. And nothing she could say would change his mind.
“You’re wrong,” Carla said softly, with a slow shake of her head. He was going to turn his back on everything they might have had together. She stared up at him and felt that small flicker of exasperation sputter and grow as it erupted within the misery crowding her heart. “It’s not that you can’t. It’s that you won’t. There’s a difference. We talked about this last night, remember?”
“I do care about you, Carla.”
Crumbs. He was offering her crumbs, when they could have found a banquet together.
“Yeah? Well, I love you.” Oh, crap. Brilliant, Carla. Just freaking brilliant. She slapped one hand to her forehead and muttered, “Is it too late to take that back?”
His eyes widened. He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.
“Don’t say anything, okay?” Please don’t say anything. God, if he said something stupid like “Gee, too bad,” she’d have to kill him. As it was, she wanted to find a nice high cliff and get a running start toward it. Turning away from him, she walked to the phone and picked up the receiver. Before she dialed, she said, “I didn’t mean to say that.”
“Carla…”
“It just sort of … popped out. But maybe it’s just as well. At least now you know exactly what you’re running from.”
Oh, he knew. He knew exactly what he was giving up. What he was walking—not running—away from. And though it was killing him, he just didn’t see another way for them. Reese had to have his complete attention. Even if that meant that he would leave his heart here, in Chandler.
Jackson watched Carla as she made her call and forced himself to stand still. He memorized the look of her, every line, every curve. He drew her image on his mind and etched it in deeply. After today, this was all he would have of her, and the realization made it even harder to keep from going to her. Especially since everything in him was screaming at him to cross the room, grab her, wrap his arms around her so tightly she couldn’t draw a breath unless he did, too, and hang on to her forever.
Love.
He’d been offered the world.
And he couldn’t accept.
His brain raced, his heart ached, and a roaring in his ears drowned out her voice as she spoke into the phone. Until she dropped the receiver and turned to look at him. Her face pale, her big brown eyes haunted and terrified, she said, “Reese and Abbey aren’t at Mama’s. She hasn’t seen either of them in more than an hour.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
INSIDE AN HOUR, a search was organized.
Jackson and Carla had checked both houses, the yards, and the surrounding areas and had come up empty. There was no sign of Reese. When Jackson discovered her tote bag missing from the trunk of the car, the nightmare grew blacker. His little girl had run away.
Like father, like daughter.
The words echoed in his mind, taunting him, tormenting him. He’d been ready to pick up, pack up, and run back to Chicago, despite Reese’s obvious reluctance to go. Hell, despite his own reluctance. Now, the little girl had obviously taken matters into her own hands. And beaten him to the running-away punch.
Pacing wildly, Jackson paid no attention to the people gathered with him in the sheriff’s office. All he could think of was his daughter. Her face. Her eyes. The misery and anger he’d read in those blue depths the last time he’d seen her.
No. Not the last time.
He’d see her again.
All he had to do was find her. Daddy’s coming, baby.
Guilt reared up and took a fresh bite out of him. For a year, he’d paid penance for the tragedy that had hit his child so hard. Now, once again, because of him, Reese was in danger. How would he ever be able to live with himself if anything happened to her?
“Jackson?”
Carla’s voice reached through his misery and dragged him back from the darkness settling in his mind. He whirled around and immediately found her gaze in the crowded room. And even at a distance, he felt her worry, her love, her support. She’d offered him so much and he’d turned his back on all of it. Pain pinged around inside his chest like a bullet ricocheting off a rocky wall. But then, that was something he’d just have to learn to live with.
From across the room, Carla smiled at him. After everything that had happened between them, it was a wonder to Jackson that she was willing to speak to him. Let alone help him when he was at his lowest. Yet here she stood.
Undaunted, she was clearly ready to do whatever was necessary to find Reese and bring her home safely. All business now, Carla wore heavy climbing boots and blue jeans. Her faded T-shirt was tucked into her waistband and around her waist was a heavy belt with a walkie-talkie clipped to it along with a water bottle, compass, and flashlight. At her feet was a backpack that held God knew what kind of emergency equipment.
Her strength filled him and for the first time in his life, Jackson leaned on someone. He’d never really needed or even wanted to need anyone before. But now, knowing he wasn’t in this alone meant more to him than he ever could have imagined.
Crossing the room to stand beside her at Tony’s desk, Jackson looked down at an unfolded map spread atop the stacks of papers cluttering the scarred wooden surface.
Carla slipped her hand into his, threaded their fingers together, and held on tightly. He felt her warmth, the strength of her heart, flow into him, and Jackson silently returned the pressure of her grip.
“Tony and two others will take the section by the lake. You and I are taking the woods at the base of the foothills. The area we covered when we searched for the missing man. Nick and Paul,” Carla said, and nodded at her other brothe
rs, standing opposite them, “will take the beach and the coves.”
“Nobody knows those coves better than we do,” Nick said. His one good eye looked clear and steady as he nodded at Jackson. “If she’s down there—”
Paul pushed his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose and finished his twin’s sentence. “—we’ll find her.”
“The others,” Carla said, with a quick look around at the familiar faces, “are spreading out and working in teams to cover everything else.”
“Thanks.” Jackson bit his tongue to keep from shouting, Let’s get going, already! They had to hurry. His daughter was out there. Alone. And it wouldn’t be daylight forever, for God’s sake. But Carla’s hand in his kept him from raging. Steeling himself to patience, he listened as the townspeople gathered in the office received their instructions and he watched their faces. Everyone there was solemn, determined. Old and young, they’d turned out when Tony had issued a call for help. They’d come from the barbershop, the drugstore, the art galleries, and the diner. They’d left their businesses and their families to do whatever they could.
Stevie wandered through the room, filling coffee cups from one of the dozens of thermoses she’d filled and brought to the sheriff’s office. Even Virginia, Abigail, and Rachel had turned out, bringing sandwiches that no one had the stomach to touch—but still, the effort was there. Mama Candellano muttered prayers and bounced Tina on her hip as Beth checked the batteries in the walkie-talkies.
Years of isolation fell from Jackson’s shoulders like a hundred-pound weight. His gaze shot around the room and he realized that it wasn’t only Carla who had invaded his life, his world. It was also her family. Her friends—now his and Reese’s friends, too. This town had become the home he and his daughter had never known. Without ever realizing it was happening, he’d become a part of Chandler.
He’d come here hoping to heal his daughter and now found his own heart and soul restored.
But at what cost?
Carla squeezed his hand even tighter and the pressure of her grip closed around his heart as well. She tipped her face up to his, and when he felt the power of her gaze locked on him, Jackson turned to meet it. Those deep brown eyes called to him as they had since the first moment he met her. But now he saw so much more when she looked at him.
Finding You Page 25
