Cinderella's Big Sky Groom

by Christine Rimmer

  He moved aside. She went straight to the coat closet and hung up her coat. She dropped her purse on the floor. Then she shut the closet door.

  He was leaning against the stair rail, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching her.

  First things first, she thought. “Did you eat anything?”

  “Since when?”

  “Oh, let’s see. In the past six hours or so?”

  “No.”

  “Then let’s go into the kitchen and see what we can find.”

  Twenty minutes later, she slid a mushroom omelet, a big glass of milk and a stack of toast onto the table. She pulled out the nearest chair. “Sit down, please, and eat.”

  He grunted in annoyance, but he did sit down. Then he looked up at her skeptically. “What about you?”

  “I had a sandwich at Jessica’s. I’m fine.” She slid in across from him. “Eat.”

  He picked up his fork and dug in.

  She leaned her elbows on the table and watched him. “You were hungry.”

  “Is that an accusation?”

  “Not at all.”

  She watched him some more. He took a bite, swallowed some milk, then set the glass down. “All right. Whatever’s going on in that mind of yours, tell me.”

  She confessed, “I do want to talk to you….”

  “About what?”

  About you and me, she thought. About how I love you—and my baby sister says that you love me.

  But they would get to that. Right now, there was something else, something she really had to share with someone. And who better than the man she loved? “I’ve been thinking.”

  He shoveled in another bite of egg, made a questioning sound.

  “I never told you this. It just felt too embarrassing, because of our circumstances. But remember that morning, the morning after our…one night together?”

  Good thing she wasn’t standing; the look that he sent her would have buckled her knees. “I remember.”

  “I told you that Winona Cobbs picked me up.”

  “So?”

  “Well, when she drove up and found me, at the end of your drive out there, she had…a vision, I guess you could call it.”

  He raised a dark brow. “A vision.” The flat way he said that told her exactly what he thought of such things.

  “Hear me out. Please.”

  He studied her for a moment, then shrugged. “Go ahead.”

  “They do say that Winona has the sight. She’s predicted more than one disaster around these parts—and she’s also seen what would happen, how things would work out in the end. Sometimes they even consult her, at the sheriff’s office, when—”

  “I get the point. Get back to that morning.”

  “Yes. All right. She took my red shoe and she—”

  “Wait a minute. Your shoe?”

  “Yes. I was carrying it, since I couldn’t find the other one. And she reached out the window of her pickup and took it. She…held it to her chest and she started rocking in her seat, making this humming sound. And then she kind of…chanted. She chanted strange things.”

  He demanded, “What things?”

  The clock on the mantel chimed. One stroke. Seven-thirty. Lynn closed her eyes, trying to call it all up, the chilly October morning, herself, her feet cut and aching. And Winona, rocking. Chanting…

  “She said, ‘What is lost shall be found, in a scattering of dust.”’ Lynn opened her eyes, looked at Ross expectantly.

  He didn’t seem terribly impressed. “And just what should I make of that?”

  She blew out a frustrated breath. “My red shoe, that’s what.”

  “Lynn…”

  “No. I mean it. Think about it. My shoe was lost—and then found, ‘in a scattering of dust.’ Get it? Your new housekeeper. Dusting.”

  His lips flattened out—but at least he restrained himself from rolling his eyes. “What else did Winona say during this vision of hers?”

  “She said…‘a ring and a lie’—that the lie would bring truth. She said something about ‘them’ taking the wrong twin. And that love would return, in…a dark night of fear and misery. She said, ‘The teacher teaches, the prince must learn,’ and—”

  “Oh, come on. She said that, about the ring? About a teacher, and a prince?”

  “I swear to you. She said it.”

  “I don’t believe—”

  “I know you don’t.” She didn’t let her gaze waver. “And that’s the problem—our problem, anyway. Isn’t it? That you don’t believe. That you’ll let what went wrong in the past keep you from hoping…from loving, right now?”

  The look he gave her then made her want to leap from her chair and throw herself into his arms.

  She stayed where she was. He pushed his plate away. “Go on. Tell me the rest.”

  “All right. There was…something about silence. That there would be silence, a horrible silence, when the ‘lost one’ came back….”

  He stared at her, his jaw set—and his eyes full of doubts.

  She wanted to reach out and shake him. “Oh, Ross. Don’t you see? The way Jenny and Sara are. Like sisters. Like…twins. And Winona said they would take the ‘wrong’ twin. Could that mean they were supposed to take Jenny, somehow, do you think? And Winona did say when—when the lost one came back. That means Sara will be returned to us, don’t you think?”

  “I don’t know what to think. What else did she say?”

  “Only one more thing. That…love was magic. That I should believe in it and it wouldn’t let me down.”

  He waited, as if he expected her to say something more. When she didn’t, he prompted, “That’s all?”

  “Yes,” she replied, irritation making the word curt. “And I think it’s plenty.” She stood. “I should have thought about this, really thought about it, earlier. I should have realized—”

  “What? What’s to realize?”

  She experienced the urge to shake him again. “How can you say that, after what I just told you?”

  “Lynn, listen. Yes, it does make a strange kind of sense. But are there any real clues there, anything solid that would help us find Sara? I’m sorry, but I don’t think so. What you have are predictions, that’s all. They don’t lead anywhere.”

  “But—”

  “Look. Do you want to call Sterling?”

  “Yes. Yes, I do.”

  “Then the phone’s over there, and the phone book’s in the top drawer, under the bar.”

  Lynn got the number and called the McCallums’ house as Ross cleared off his place and put his dishes in the dishwasher.

  When she hung up, he was waiting, standing on the other side of the table from her. “Well?”

  She wrapped her arms around her middle and slumped against the wall. “Sterling said he’d get one of the deputies to track down Winona right away. He said that at this point, anything was worth a shot.”

  His dark eyes were soft right then. “You don’t look too happy.”

  “Sterling reacted the same way you did. He said that he couldn’t see anything really solid there, that it was all pretty vague.” She put both hands against her mouth, then dropped them to her sides. “Oh, Ross. I just can’t stop thinking of her…of Sara…out there in the dark somewhere, with those two awful men….”

  “Hey.” In five long strides he was around the table and at her side.

  “I just…I keep thinking, you know? Keep thinking, What if? What if I’d walked the girls to the multipurpose room myself? Or what if they’d gone five minutes earlier? Or five minutes later? What if—”

  He put a finger to her lips and spoke so tenderly. “What ifs won’t help. Take my word for it. I know.”

  She captured his hand, held it tightly—to her heart.

  And he said, “I’ve been through all the what ifs myself. Over Elana. What if I hadn’t said all those ugly things, what if I’d tried to understand, what if I’d opened my damn eyes earlier, back when we were first starting out? What if I’d let myself
see that she loved me and needed me and didn’t know how to get through to me? What if. What if? It goes around and around. And it also goes nowhere.”

  She swallowed. “You have to…let it go.”

  “I know. And so do you.”

  “But I want to help. I want to do something.”

  “You’ve done everything you can.”

  “It’s not enough. There has to be more.”

  “Lynn. Listen. You’ve done a number of things I would have called impossible. You’ve made peace with that exasperating family of yours. You’ve found your sister a job that it appears she’s actually going to be good at. You’ve made a man like me start thinking that maybe there’s some kind of hope for him, after all.”

  “I…I have?”

  “You have. But with this. With Sara’s disappearance. There is no more you can do. You’re going to have to put a little faith in Rafe and Sterling and the deputies.”

  “But I—”

  He shook his head. “No more buts.”

  She stared at him, knowing he was right, and still wishing with all of her heart that he wasn’t—at least not about Sara.

  And then she couldn’t stand it anymore. She let her body sway toward him.

  Those strong arms went around her. She sighed, rested against him. He stroked her hair, cradled her head in the crook of his shoulder. She thought, yes…oh, yes. This is where I was meant to be. Here. In this man’s arms.

  She looked up at him.

  “Better?” he asked.

  “A little.”

  He traced her brows with a finger, then guided a stray curl off her cheek. “You’ve done what you could.”

  “It’s not much.”

  “We’ll call. In the morning. See what they found out.”

  We, she thought. We’ll call. That did sound good.

  He was smiling. Lord, how she loved that smile of his. “Okay. You’ve fed me. You’ve called Sterling and told him all about Winona’s predictions. Now what?”

  The clock on the mantel chimed the hour then. “Eight o’clock,” she whispered. His lips were so close. She brushed a kiss across them.

  His arms tightened around her. He asked again, very low this time, “Now what?”

  And she said, “Now, Mr. Garrison, I take you to bed.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Deep in the night, she woke with a cry.

  Ross reached for her. Downstairs, the clock struck two.

  “Bad dream?” He held her close.

  She dragged in a shuddery breath and nodded against his chest. “About Sara. She was calling me. I couldn’t find her. And then…we were in my classroom. She said, ‘You forgot my puppy, Miss Taylor. You know that you did.”’

  His lips brushed her hair. “What puppy?”

  She put her hand on his chest. She loved that, the feel of him against her fingertips. “Sara told me a few months ago…it was my birthday, as a matter of fact, right before you came in the door. Remember?”

  She felt his nod. “That’s right. Sara was there with you that day.”

  “She was…teasing me, really. About how she couldn’t tell me what my birthday present would be. She’s just such a talker. She’ll get going and you can’t get her to stop. We used to have a signal. I would pretend I was pulling a zipper across my lips. And she would giggle and say, ‘I know. Zipper my lip….’ Oh, Ross…”

  “It’s all right,” he murmured. “Come on, now. It’s all right…”

  She lifted her hand from his chest and brushed the tears away. “I…about the puppy…”

  “I’m listening.”

  She laid her hand on his chest again. It felt so right there, against his warmth and his strength. Lightly, she rubbed. The crisp hair felt silky, so alive, so very real.

  “The puppy,” he reminded her.

  “Yes. The puppy.” A wobbly little smile came. She felt it, tugging at the edges of her mouth. “It was my birthday. And we were waiting for Danielle to come. And Sara got to rambling, about Christmas, and how she wanted a puppy. A puppy that would grow up to be like Jenny’s dog, Sugar. Sara said she really, really wanted that. I made a mental note to mention it to Danielle. But somehow…”

  He knew what she was going to say. “You never got around to it.”

  She lifted herself up, so she could see him. The room was dim, the one light on the nightstand turned down low. But his eyes were clear to her, and that was all that mattered. “Oh, Ross. I just keep thinking, what if she never gets her puppy, never sings her little duet with Jenny at the Christmas pageant, never even has another Christmas? What if she’s—?”

  “Shh,” he said. “No what ifs, remember?”

  “Yes. Yes, I know you’re right….”

  He kissed her, a tender, seeking kiss, slowly pushing her back into the pillows as he did it, curving his body over hers. Then he lifted his mouth, just a fraction.

  He spoke against her lips. “She’ll come back. Remember? Your town psychic said so.”

  “But you said—”

  “What the hell do I know? I’m only a man.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t argue. Just believe.”

  The tears rose again. Was she dreaming? Or had Ross Garrison just told her to believe?

  “Do it,” he commanded. Then he said it a second time. “Believe.”

  “I—”

  He kissed her again, and she forgot how to speak.

  She forgot everything but his mouth on hers, his hands roaming her body, tender and insistent, finding all her secret places and opening them, arousing them.

  His mouth followed his hands, downward.

  She clutched his dark head as his mouth found her. She felt his tongue, stroking her, bringing stars and moons to spin behind her eyelids, until she rolled her head on the pillow and cried out, lost to all but the fulfillment pulsing and shimmering out from his stroking tongue to every nerve she possessed.

  A few minutes later she helped him with the little foil packet, removing the condom and sliding it down over the thick length of him.

  He guided her to the top position. She rode him, looking down into his face, thinking, I love you…. And yes. Oh, yes…I will believe….

  He surged up into her. She took him deep. They cried out as one. The clock struck the half hour. They smiled at each other. And then they settled back down to steal a few hours of sleep.

  The clock was just striking nine when the phone rang. Lynn woke to a moment of panic, thinking she had to get to school, that her students would all be there, waiting, wondering where their teacher was.

  But then she remembered. Today was Saturday.

  Saturday. No school.

  And Sara was missing….

  Ross reached over and snatched the phone from the nightstand. “Garrison here.”

  Lynn heard the murmur of a voice at the other end of the line.

  Then Ross asked, “Half an hour ago?”

  “Is it Sterling?” she whispered.

  He held up a hand to silence her, then gave her a nod. “All right,” he said into the phone. “Yes. Ten-thirty. My office.”

  “Ask him about Winona. Did they talk to her?”

  He patted the air for silence, listened to Sterling some more. Then he muttered more agreements, said, “We’ll see what we can do. What about the Sheppard woman? Anything there?”

  She heard Sterling start talking again, and couldn’t stop herself from urging, “Ross. Please. Winona…”

  Another curt nod, then, “Sterling. By the way, did you talk to the Cobbs woman?…Yes. I know Lynn called you…Yes. All right. I understand. And I’ll see you at ten-thirty….”

  He dropped the phone back in its cradle.

  “What?” she demanded, dragging herself up against the headboard. “What’s happened?”

  He sat up, too. “They got a ransom demand. At eight-thirty this morning. A call from a pay phone. They couldn’t trace it, damn it. They didn’t even have a chance to try. The call came to Ster
ling’s house.”

  “Sterling’s house?”

  “That’s what I said. They had no equipment set up there. They thought, if anything, the call would come at Danielle’s. They were ready there. But no such luck.”

  “The demand…what was it?”

  “A million dollars.”

  “Oh, my Lord.”

  “A million dollars,” Ross repeated. “For the return of Jennifer McCallum.”

  Lynn gasped. “Jenny? But—” Understanding dawned. “Wait a minute. The coats…Jenny and Sara switched coats. Jenny’s name is sewn inside her collar. Those horrible men must think—”

  “Yeah. They think they’ve got Jennifer. And apparently they know about the Kincaid fortune.”

  “Ross. It’s coming out as Winona predicted. Remember what she said. ‘They will take the wrong twin….”’

  He swore. “It does look that way, doesn’t it?”

  “But wouldn’t Sara have told them—” A small cry escaped her. “Oh, Ross. Why didn’t she tell them? Unless she’s—”

  “Don’t jump to conclusions,” he ordered gruffly. “It’s possible they didn’t give her a chance to tell them. Or she could be keeping her mouth shut.”

  Lynn closed her eyes, let out a moan. “But Sara never keeps her mouth shut.”

  “Remember. She’s got to be scared out of her wits. Terror can be a real silencer.”

  “Yes. Oh, yes. That’s possible, isn’t it?” Lord, she thought, look where we are. To the point where we’re hoping Sara is terrified.

  Appalling. Sick. To wish terror on a five-year-old.

  But Lynn did wish it. If it increased the chances that Sara would come back to them alive.

  “We’re going to play along,” Ross said. “They haven’t put out those flyers yet with Sara’s picture on them. Now they won’t put them out. We’ll try to contain it, talk to everyone who knows the facts and insist that they keep their mouths shut.”

  She thought of Winona again. And of Lily Mae, Winona’s dearest friend. And Mrs. Parchly. And her own sister. All of them loved nothing so much as to share what they knew. “Half the town has to know by now.”

  “We’ll do all we can.”

  “Yes. Yes, of course. What about the ransom?”