by Anna Adams
Ah. Instant relief. “98.8,” she said.
“That’s high?” Owen asked.
She laughed at his concern for a change. “Not a bit. He may have a little cold, but we’ll keep an eye on him for a couple of days, and he’ll be fine.”
“I’m glad you came, Mommy. Can you stay with me tonight?”
She looked to Owen for her answer. He hovered in the doorway in flannel pj pants and a dark T-shirt, his hair standing on end and his eyes wide and hollow. He lifted both hands in a gesture that made her feel bad for him.
“It’s just a cold,” she said. But maybe she should insist on staying. This was Owen’s first experience with a sick child.
“Feel free to stay,” he said. “Do you want to sleep in here? Or I can make you a bed on the couch.”
“I’ll hang out with Ben.” She grinned. “You wouldn’t happen to have some coffee?”
“This late?”
She started to explain she had a sudden craving for caffeine, maybe out of relief that Ben seemed fine. But then he nodded.
“I know what you mean,” he said, and she got an unwelcome insight into what it must be like for him when he needed alcohol. “I’ll make coffee. I’m glad you came, too.”
She was grateful he turned away before she could say anything accusatory about the drinking. He hadn’t announced he was heading for the nearest fifth of vodka. “I’m glad you called,” she said. “It’s nice to see you in my shoes when it comes to parenting.”
Maybe understanding each other’s experiences could be good for both of them.
His footsteps pounded down the stairs. Ben rolled over, pulling the blankets with him.
“Read to me, Mommy.”
She picked up the book Owen had set down and began to read. Within a minute, Ben was sound asleep again. Poor little pumpkin. Lilah tucked him in. He grumbled a bit but burrowed deeper into his bed.
She turned off the lamp and went to the door, but she left it half-open in case he called for them.
The coffee was still brewing when she arrived downstairs. Owen turned from the kitchen counter.
“I’m sorry about all this. I wasn’t sure what to do.”
“Are you kidding? I’m glad you called.” She went to the cupboard and took down two mugs. “I finally get the feeling we can do this together.”
“I actually wondered if you might head out of here the second I told you he was sick.”
She set the cups beside the coffeemaker. “Why would I leave now?”
“Because I took him to the top of a mountain, and we sat in the cold. That probably made things worse.”
“I keep trying to tell you and your family I’m not nuts.”
Owen brushed his unruly hair across his forehead. “I feel a little nuts right now.”
“I appreciate you trying to take responsibility, but I was with you. I knew he sounded stuffy. If I blamed you because he picked up a germ, I’d have to blame myself. I’m just glad it’s nothing serious.”
“Noah said to let his office know if we want to bring him in tomorrow.”
“Right now I don’t think we’ll need to.” She put her hand over his arm. “It’s okay.”
“I can finally admit we’ve all been rough on you about being overprotective. Too bad the others can’t see me tonight. You’d have to pass me the award for worrying.”
“The first time Ben got a cold, I took him to the emergency room.” She shrugged. “Maybe it’s the moment you realize how dependent on you they are.”
“Thanks.” Owen turned his hand over and caught hers. “You both matter to me. My son is lucky you’re his mother.”
She looked up and got lost in his eyes. Funny how that ice could emit heat. “What are you saying to me, Owen? You aren’t just talking about Ben right now.”
He nodded, tugging her closer. “I wouldn’t choose living like this, Lilah, sharing Ben in separate homes, separate lives.”
Her chest felt as if a giant hand gripped and squeezed. She wanted to stop him. She didn’t know how. If he said anything else... “Owen, no.”
“No, what? Let me talk for once.”
She wanted him to talk about the feelings his eyes were intimating, and she wanted him to remember she was the woman who couldn’t find a way to trust him again. “You’re reacting to your scare about Ben. Too much happened tonight, and you need sleep.”
He touched his index finger to her lips. “I’m saying what I should have when you threw me out nearly five years ago. I’ll try to be the right man. I won’t drink. I care about you. More than that, I believe we might find our way back to each other if you’re telling the truth about only sending me away because you thought I wasn’t safe.”
“That was four years ago. Our time has passed, and you’re sober now because of Ben. But how long will it last?”
“I’m asking you to give us a chance.”
She pushed his hand away. “I’m still the woman who hid your son from you, and you’re still the guy who wants to drink. I saw that today.”
He nodded. “I want to, but I’m not drinking, and I finally understand why you kept him from me. You were afraid for him, and you did your best. That’s what I’m offering you, too. I haven’t touched a drink in months, and I don’t intend to. I know I can’t have a life and an addiction.”
“No, Owen.”
“Because you’re still afraid?” he asked.
“Absolutely.” She turned away from him. “Ben loves you, and he deserves parents who don’t hate each other. If something went wrong between us again, I might hate you. I certainly wouldn’t forgive you.”
From behind her, he slid his arm around her waist. “I did hate you. At least I thought I did. I tried to. But I don’t.”
She turned around. “Owen, this is crazy. Our son comes before any feelings you and I might think we’re feeling because I’ve helped you when you broke your arm, and you’ve made me see you love Ben the way I always needed you to.”
“I’m not asking Ben to give me another chance.” He lowered his head. His mouth was so close to hers. So warm.
“You can’t ask me either.” She wanted to pull away, but she couldn’t force herself to move out of his arms.
“I am asking you because neither of us wanted to care again, but we’ve been good together. We answer what’s missing in each other. I understand why you worry so much about Ben because I felt so afraid tonight that he might be really sick. And you saw the way I looked at that farmer and his flask today, but you didn’t panic. You gave me compassion and understanding.”
“Because you’re my son’s father.”
“I don’t believe Ben’s your only reason for caring. I was not his father when you fell in love with me, and you sent me away because I had a problem, not because you didn’t love me.”
“That’s my secret,” she said, “and I never meant for anyone else to know how much I still cared.”
Could she let herself care like that again?
He brushed her lips with his. Kissing him was like coming home. She relaxed in the circle of his arm around her. She sank into the sweetness of his tender affection. This man owned parts of her that no one else had ever reached.
And she wanted to give him everything—her tomorrows, her son, her trust. She wanted Owen to take her love again.
“No.” She pulled away. “Nothing’s really changed. You were a good man with a thirst that ruined your life. I can’t stop you from seeing Ben, but if we were together, the first time you drank, I’d leave you. And Ben would know the difference between having two parents, and having a mother who could never forgive his father for betraying him and me.”
“I’m not drinking. I won’t make you worry about a drunk guy ruining your life.”
“You don’t come with
the guarantees I need.”
He caught her, sliding his hand beneath her hair at her nape. “You needed guarantees before. You’re stronger now.”
“I’m not strong enough.” She leaned her cheek against his wrist. She wanted a happier ending, a fairy-tale promise he could keep. “I’m telling you I cannot take a chance.” Tears burned her eyes. “Not on you.”
Because how would she survive when the end came? And how would she help Ben survive?
She turned away. She couldn’t go far tonight, but in the morning, she’d pack up her son and take him home to Vermont.
“I’m going back to your mom’s,” she said. “If Ben wakes up and wants me, he can call.”
Owen didn’t answer. His bleak expression required no words. The compassion he needed from her no longer existed because Ben mattered more. She couldn’t give her son a temporary family that was bound to shatter the moment something in Owen’s life made him turn back to alcohol.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
HANDS WERE AT her throat, on her shoulders. One covered her eyes and then slid over her mouth. This time might be the last time. The horror would end because he was killing her.
Wait—out of her horror came the vaguest hope. She wasn’t five. This might be a dream. If it was a dream, she could wake herself. With sheer willpower, Lilah rose from her pillows, gasping, barely restraining a scream. Every time was the same—the nightmare always returned to let her know when her life was a mess.
Panting, she looked around Suzannah’s cozy guest room. Embers in the fireplace barely gave off any light, but a darkish blue morning sky peeked around the corners of the window shades. She hurried to open them and then turned to make sure no one else was in her room.
The bedposts loomed. The shadows of the armoire and the dressing table threatened her.
She grabbed her college sweatshirt from the end of the bed, where she’d left it when she came back from Owen’s last night.
She had to get out of here. She needed air.
She tiptoed down the stairs, anxious not to wake the other guests or Suzannah, who’d been asleep when she crept back in a couple of hours ago.
Little Lost Lilah learned to handle her demons. Again and again. Over and over.
But that was all right. Little Lost Lilah’s little son would never have demons to face.
She headed for the kitchen, hoping to find a last cup of coffee in the pot. No luck there. She plugged in the kettle and found a tin of Monk’s Blend leaves. Thank goodness for Suzannah’s thoughtfulness as a hostess.
While she waited for the water to boil, she wandered through the spacious dining room, where the small, lit table lamps pushed out darkness. She opened the blinds in here, as well.
Lilah inhaled one more time. Everything was okay. She’d packed her things before she went back to bed. She’d made flight reservations for this evening. Packing Ben’s things wouldn’t take more than an hour, and they could get out of Bliss.
“Bad dreams?”
She turned, almost knocking a chair to the floor. She caught it and clenched her fingers around the wooden back. “Suzannah, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
The older woman belted her robe. “No problem. I get nightmares, too. It’s not Ben?”
“No. He’s okay.” Her mouth was crazy dry. “He has a cold, but it’s nothing serious. No fever.”
“That’s the news I hoped for. Tea for two?” Suzannah asked. “Or I could start the coffee.” She shot back the cuff of her robe and checked the time.
“I put on the kettle.”
“Oh, good. Can I make you something to eat?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“No.” Suzannah’s smile was too aware. Either Owen had called her—doubtful in the extreme—or she really did know what it was like to be chased by nighttime demons. “We’ll just sip our tea and reassure ourselves.”
“You sound like a therapist.”
Suzannah laughed. “Probably from seeing one for such a long time. We all have our flaws, Lilah, and I’m still making sure mine don’t become major character traits ever again.”
She might be assuming too much. “What did Owen tell you?”
Suzannah seemed to weigh her options. Lilah couldn’t believe he would have called her last night.
“He didn’t actually tell us at all. One of the other children got curious about you and did a little research.”
She baffled Lilah. “You aren’t talking about last night?”
“You never hid your name.”
“What?” Then Lilah understood. “The kidnapping. Someone finally searched my name. Which sibling was it?”
“Does it matter?”
“I don’t care who went prowling into my business, but I don’t want any of you to speak to Ben about it. Someday I’ll tell him when I think the time is right.”
“I’m worried about you,” Suzannah said gently.
And she didn’t even know the whole truth about the abduction and its affect on Lilah even now. “I’m fine. You might as well know Ben and I are going back to Vermont today.”
“Why? Because you don’t deserve a life with a decent man who cares for you?” Suzannah tightened her belt again. “I assume Owen is the reason for your sudden retreat? You two bonded over your slightly ill son. Owen finally realized his feelings for you still exist, and he scared you by talking about them.”
“I’m not like you. I know I’m not to blame because a criminal tried to destroy my life.”
“I have plenty of reason to blame myself,” Suzannah admitted. “You were a child. You were brave enough to free yourself. I was an adult, and I had four children who depended on me. I wasn’t even brave enough to free them, and I love them so much I can never make it up—what I owe them. You have a child now. You know that Owen can be a good father. Please, don’t take that from him.”
“You know how many times Owen has failed at staying sober. Even with me, he’d say he wasn’t going to drink while he was in New York, and then he’d get completely wasted. I can’t remember how many times.” An image of that man with the flask yesterday and Owen’s hungry look popped into her mind. “Suzannah, I won’t live with an alcoholic, and I won’t let Ben get used to having his father in his home just long enough to be scarred when I have to make him leave.”
“Maybe Owen wouldn’t be so—troubled—if I’d been stronger. Like you are.”
Lilah couldn’t disagree. “Owen thinks I’m weak, but I’m trying to make sure my choices for Ben give him a better chance at a happy life, without my fear or Owen’s addiction.”
“But what if you make him afraid, Lilah? Keeping him wrapped in cotton wool is no way to teach him how to weather the bad times.”
“I understand that’s what you think I do. Maybe I have overreacted a few times since we’ve been here, but I’m taking care of Ben the best way I know how.”
“So is my son.”
“Even now, when you know I’ve just been reliving a crime committed against me, you’re making a pitch for Owen?”
“For my grandson.” Suzannah turned toward the kitchen. “Because I’d hate to see him choose to hide. Three generations of men, hiding from their troubles. You don’t want that any more than I do.” She looked straight into Lilah’s eyes. “Or Owen.”
“I don’t really want that tea after all. In fact, I’m fine, just tired.” Lilah went to the stairs. “I’ll see you in a little while.”
Every member of the Gage family seemed to feel they had a right to advise her on what was best for Ben.
What a laugh. The most dysfunctional family in Tennessee, setting themselves up as judge and jury.
She should have tried harder to keep Ben out of his father’s reach. She just hadn’t realized Owen, who hadn’t wanted to stop drinking, would eve
r be sober long enough to care about his son.
* * *
OWEN WOKE, STARTLED to see sunlight in his room. “Ben?” He rolled out of bed and stumbled along the hallway. “Buddy, are you awake?”
Ben’s bed was empty.
“Buddy,” Owen called, heading down the stairs, “how do you feel this morning?”
But he wasn’t downstairs either. The whole house was empty, as empty as a black hole, sucking all the energy out of him.
“Ben?”
He ran back up the stairs. Ben’s coat and hat and gloves weren’t on the floor, or in the chair at the end of his bed. Owen grabbed his phone, still lying on the nightstand. He hit Lilah’s number.
The second her answer cut into the ring, he asked her, “Is Ben with you?”
“He’s not with you?”
“He’s not here. His coat’s gone. Go downstairs right now and find out if he’s having breakfast. I’m getting dressed.”
“If he’s not downstairs, I’m calling the police.”
“Hurry,” Owen said and hung up.
He dressed as quickly as he could, grunting with pain. Then he searched the outside of the cabin before he ran through the barn.
Lilah didn’t call. He called her.
“He’s not here,” she said. “I already called the police. A guy named Layton said he’s coming, and he’ll bring searchers.”
“He’s the sheriff.”
“How many searchers can he get?” Her voice broke. “I’m going to look through the clinic.”
“I just did. I’m coming to meet you through the fields. You head this way. Maybe we’ll find him.”
“All right, but hang up so I can call your mom and have her get Chad out here. He’s been in the woods with Ben more than any of us.”
Celia and Chad and Noah gathered friends. Searchers came from town, along with Sheriff Layton and his colleagues. The woods were filled with voices calling for Ben.
A panic-filled morning passed into an afternoon of sick dread. With each passing minute, the weather worsened. As clouds came up, bloated with snow, and the wind began to whistle through the trees and over the hills, Owen’s hope faded. He pretended for Lilah that he was certain they’d find Ben, but inside, he felt sick dread.
