by Brenda Novak
The cell phone Parker had left on the table rang, startling Hope. She could see that he’d bumped into someone he knew on his way back from the rest room, so she let it ring, assuming the call would transfer to voice-mail. The ringing finally stopped, but after a few seconds it started again, and the people in the next booth twisted around to scowl at her.
Glancing across the room, where Parker was still engrossed in conversation, Hope quickly picked up the phone and answered it.
A long pause greeted her hello. She nearly hung up before a young voice, obviously leery, said, “Who’s this?”
“Hope Tanner. Who’s this?”
“Dalton. Where’s my dad?”
“He’s here at a restaurant with me.”
“Why are you answering his phone?”
“Because he’s tied up right now. Would you like me to take a message?”
He didn’t answer. He just said, “Oh,” and then there was another silence before he added an accusatory, “I don’t know you.”
“Not yet. I’ve only been in town a couple of weeks.”
“And my dad asked you out on a date already?”
Hope stiffened in surprise. “He didn’t ask me out,” she said. “We work together.”
“He works with Lydia and Katherine, too, but he doesn’t take them to dinner late at night,” the boy pointed out.
Hope smiled at the suspicion in his voice. “You don’t have anything to worry about,” she said. “I can promise that your dad doesn’t like me very much.”
“Really?”
“Cross my heart.”
“How do you know?”
“Well…” She reflected on it for a moment. “He didn’t want to hire me at the center, but Lydia insisted. And even though he needed my help today, he didn’t want to take me with him. And he frowns at me a lot. I don’t think those are very good signs, do you?”
“No,” Dalton agreed thoughtfully. “Especially the frowning part. He only does that when he’s mad. What did you do to make him mad?”
“Nothing that I know of.”
“Do you know Holt’s mother?”
“No. Who’s she?”
“She’s my friend’s mom. But I don’t like her.”
“Why not?”
“She keeps telling my dad I need stuff I really don’t want.”
“Like vegetables?” Hope asked. She somehow knew this conversation was deeper than peas and carrots, but she wanted Dalton to share only what he needed or wished to tell her.
“Yeah. And other stuff, worse stuff.”
The drama in his voice nearly made Hope chuckle. Except that he was obviously very upset about this woman’s interference in his life. “What could be worse than peas? Spinach?”
“No. Mrs. Rider wants me to cry. Over homework. Can you believe that?”
Hope moved the phone away from her ear and glanced down at it. Had she heard him right? “Actually, I can’t. Why’s that?”
“She thinks I don’t cry because I don’t have a mother.”
“Don’t you sometimes want a mother?”
“Not if she’s going to be like Mrs. Rider.”
“I see your point. But surely Mrs. Rider has some good qualities.”
“Not really. She wears her hair up on top of her head until it looks like a giant beehive.” He said this with ample disgust, but it was more of an aside than anything.
“And?” Hope prompted.
“And she’s always telling me to chew with my mouth closed and quit getting into the mud and to tuck in my shirt. She thinks I play too rough with Holt, and that I should sit still while he practices the piano. And she tells my dad things about me that I don’t want her to.”
Hope drew circles in the condensation from her water glass. “You mentioned that. But you didn’t tell me what she tells your dad.”
“She tells him lots of stuff. She’s always coming up with something else that’s wrong with me,” he complained.
Hope was completely mystified by this. What could possibly be wrong with this endearing little boy? “What’s her biggest complaint?”
“This week?”
“Yeah.”
“She says I don’t know how to express my emotions. Whatever that’s supposed to mean.”
“That’s where the crying comes in,” Hope said.
“I guess.”
“Hmm, let me think.” Hope wiped her wet fingers on a napkin. “How old are you, Dalton?”
“Ten.”
Ten years old. Autumn’s age. Hope felt her heart wrench but tried to ignore the pain. “I’d say ten years old is old enough.”
“For what?”
“Well, sadness isn’t the only emotion people have,” Hope replied. “There’s happiness and irritation and frustration and lots of others. Maybe you could show her that you can talk about your emotions by explaining that it bothers you when she speaks to your father about you, instead of talking to you directly.”
“Really?” he said. “I could do that? I wouldn’t get in trouble?”
Hope thought of how stern Parker could sometimes be and hoped she wasn’t misleading his son. “Not if you handle it right. As long as you’re respectful, I think she’ll see you’re much more capable than she realized.” Out of the corner of her eye, Hope noticed Parker weaving through the tables and hurried to finish the conversation. “You sound very bright. You know how to be respectful, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” he said.
“Great. Give it a try.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to her.” He hesitated. “What was your name again?”
“Hope.”
“Hope, you want me to call you back after I’m through and tell you how it went?”
“If you’d like.”
“What’s your number?”
Hope smiled at his earnestness as she slowly recited her telephone number.
“Thanks,” he said, sounding very relieved.
Parker reached her at that moment and gave her another of his many frowns. “Who is it?”
“Your son. Here’s your dad,” she said into the phone, and handed Parker his cell. “He sounds darling,” she told him. “You must be very proud.”
Parker hardly seemed grateful for her praise. Mumbling a terse thank-you, he turned away from her to talk.
“Who, Hope? No, you probably won’t meet her,” she heard him say. He fell silent for a moment before lowering his voice even further. But Hope could still make out his next words. “I don’t care if you do, Dalton, she’s just a business associate. There’s no reason for the two of you ever to be together, okay?…I said no, and that’s it.” He glanced at Hope as though he feared she might’ve overheard, and she was suddenly glad she hadn’t responded earlier when he’d touched her. She needed to figure out how to start caring again, instead of living like some kind of shade. But in order to do that, she had to find someone to whom she really mattered. And that definitely wasn’t Parker Reynolds.
Grabbing her purse, she stalked out of the restaurant to give him the privacy he so obviously desired. She didn’t need him. He might have been her friend ten years ago, but he wasn’t her friend anymore.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE HEATER hummed in the cab of the truck as they drove back to Enchantment. Parker had the radio playing, too, hoping to avoid conversation. But as it turned out, he had nothing to worry about. Ever since they’d left the restaurant, Hope sat with her arms folded, her eyes straight ahead. She hadn’t so much as glanced his way, let alone opened her mouth to speak.
Parker shifted uncomfortably, feeling a little sheepish about his conversation with Dalton. He’d been so shocked to find Hope on the phone with his son, talking as though they were old friends, that he’d overreacted. Now they were both angry with him, and he knew he deserved it.
“Are you too hot?” he asked, breaking the silence with as neutral a question as possible.
“I’m fine,” she answered tightly.
“Is Faith going to be
waiting for you when you get home?”
“No.” She averted her face even more when she spoke and twisted a lock of her hair between her fingers. “I told her to stay the night with Gina.”
“Because you didn’t want her home alone? Even for a few hours?”
She didn’t answer.
“But you have no reason to believe Arvin knows where you are, right?”
She looked at him then, her eyes slightly narrowed, and he realized what he’d said wrong. He’d forgotten to pretend he didn’t know that the man causing all the problems now was the same man causing all the problems ten years ago. “I’d appreciate it if you’d keep that information to yourself,” she said. “Not for my sake, but for Faith’s.”
He would have done it for her, but he couldn’t say that. She wouldn’t believe it. “Of course I won’t say anything.”
Relieved when she didn’t thank him, he drove for another few minutes, searching for some other way to draw her out. He hadn’t meant to alienate her at the restaurant. Even though he knew a definite rift was probably best, he couldn’t leave things as they stood. What he’d said to Dalton had been a knee-jerk reaction to the boy’s instant affinity with Hope. They’d spoken for only a few minutes and already his son wanted to meet her—and this after a very cool reception for almost every woman Parker had dated.
“What about you?” he asked, ignoring her hostility.
“What about me?”
“Won’t you be staying alone tonight?”
“I don’t see how that concerns you,” she said.
He sighed and tightened his grip on the wheel. “Look, I didn’t mean to offend you by my conversation with Dalton. I just want him to understand that…”
“That what?” she asked, finally turning to face him.
“That he shouldn’t become attached to you.”
“Because…”
“Because getting attached to you could get him hurt. You’re not even sure you’re going to be sticking around.”
She folded her arms and studied him for several seconds. “You know, until now, I thought all this was because you don’t like me. But you liked me well enough ten years ago. Are you sure it’s Dalton you’re worried about?”
“If it wasn’t?” He kept his eyes on the road.
“I’d tell you you’re smart to play it safe,” she said simply. “I’m not a good risk.”
* * *
AS SOON AS Parker pulled into her driveway, Hope stared at the dark empty cabin, its windows gleaming in the moonlight, and tried to decide whether or not there’d been any activity in her absence. It certainly didn’t look like it. But the glowing numerals on Parker’s dashboard read 12:20 a.m., and a strong wind passed through the trees, sounding like rushing water and creating a sense of isolation even more intense than what she normally experienced. If Arvin was lurking in the shadows, after Parker left there’d be no one to help her.
Had her uncle managed to trace them?
The question loomed large in Hope’s mind, as it had for the past twenty minutes. With every mile, her anxiety had grown. Thank goodness she’d had Faith stay with Gina or she’d be a nervous wreck. She couldn’t bear it if anything happened to her sister or the baby. Logic told her that Arvin had little chance of finding them. But gut instinct seemed to whisper that, with sufficient motivation, anything was possible.
The shadows of the swaying branches overhead shifted on the ground as she climbed out of the truck. She probably wouldn’t be able to tell if someone was trying to sneak up on her, she realized, and longed to dash into the house and lock the door behind her—if the house itself was safe.
Swallowing hard, she studied it again, but was determined not to let Parker know how frightened she was. Fear was good, she told herself. Fear was an emotion, and feeling any emotion these days reminded her that she was alive and not so very different from everyone else.
“Thanks for the ride,” she said, choosing to remain as polite as possible.
He didn’t respond. She shut the door and started for the cabin, and he surprised her by turning off the ignition and getting out.
Hope glanced back at him. “What are you doing?”
“Just checking the place. I want to make sure you’re safe here.”
“There’s no need. I’m certain everything’s fine.” Despite her fear, she wanted to get rid of him as soon as possible. She didn’t want to look at him. She couldn’t get past the changes in him.
His boots made no sound on the thick layer of pine needles covering the ground, but she could hear the crinkle of his red parka as he walked. “Then you won’t mind if I see for myself.”
Hope hauled in a deep breath and led the way to her front door, resisting the gratitude that niggled at her mind. Parker was such a paradox. He didn’t want her along today, and yet he’d bought her dinner. He didn’t want her to meet his son, but he was concerned enough to check her cabin.
“How old is Arvin now?” he asked, waiting behind her as she unlocked the door.
“Fifty-six.” She swung the door wide, flipped on the switch, and gazed inside.
“And how many wives does he have?”
Hope didn’t really want to tell him. She knew how repulsive it was to the average person and how odd he’d found her answers to the questions he’d asked today. “A lot.”
He shook his head, and she tried to ignore his unspoken disapproval as she crossed the threshold. The cabin was definitely on the cool side. Faith must have turned off the heat since they were going to be gone all day—her sister was so frugal. But Hope couldn’t see anything out of place. “Looks like everything’s fine.”
Parker slipped past her and headed down the hall to pay a visit to the back rooms while she set her purse and keys on the kitchen counter. She could hear him moving through the cabin, but she didn’t follow. She wanted to stay in the most comforting room in the house—the kitchen/dining/living room. Then a door slammed just as she was putting water in the microwave to make some tea, startling her so badly she nearly dropped the cup.
“Parker?”
“Come here a second,” he called. His voice sounded normal enough, but there was an edge to it that made the hair on her arms stand up.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, hurrying down the hall.
She could see for herself as soon as she opened the door to Faith’s bedroom. Someone had thrown a rock through the window, creating a hole big enough to allow a strong draft to sweep through the room. The wind would have slammed the door shut again had Hope not kept one hand on it.
Parker picked up the rock lying amid the shattered glass that winked at her from the floor. “Have you seen any kids in the area?”
Hope shrugged, unease cramping her stomach. “Well…there were a couple of girls riding their bicycles on the street last week.” She knew, even as she said it, that those girls hadn’t thrown the rock. She just didn’t want to face the possibility that Arvin had. Not only had she obtained a good job, one she thought she was really going to like, Faith would be able to have her baby at the center with Lydia’s and Gina’s help. She didn’t want to face the changes that would need to take place if Arvin had followed them to Enchantment.
“Girls?” Parker echoed.
“It could be anyone,” she said. “It’s just a rock, right? A rock doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”
He crouched down, tossing the rock from hand to hand while peering up at the web of cracks in the broken window. “Do you have a flashlight?”
“The owners of the cabin left a few things in various cupboards and drawers,” she said, “but if there’s a flashlight, I haven’t run across it yet.”
“I’m sure they’ve got one somewhere. The electricity goes out too often in the winter for them not to. But to make things easy, I have one in the truck.” He squeezed past her and she caught a whiff of warm male skin before he strode down the hall.
The front door opened and thudded shut, and she could hear his steps on the small
porch. A few minutes later, she could see the beam of a flashlight combing the ground outside Faith’s window.
She went outside with Parker because she didn’t want to be inside alone, not knowing. “See anything?” she called, standing under the eaves.
“Not yet.” He moved in a gridlike pattern, farther and farther away from her. After several minutes, he switched off the light and came back to the house.
“I don’t see any evidence of children or anyone else having been here, but footprints don’t show up well with all these pine needles on the ground.”
“Of course,” she said, trying to keep her teeth from chattering. The air was cool and crisp, but Hope suspected it was the adrenaline rushing through her that made her shiver.
“John Boyd lives about half a mile away,” he said, speaking as though thinking aloud, “but he’s a widower without any kids. The Knowles family rents out their cabin. It’s on the other side of this place and closer to the lake. In the morning I’ll go see who’s staying there. In the meantime…”
She could barely make out his expression in the dark. His face seemed to be all planes and angles and shadowy whiskers, but she instinctively knew she wasn’t going to like what he was about to say. “What?” she said suspiciously.
“I don’t think you should stay here.”
“It’s past midnight! Where do you want me to go?”
He didn’t answer. He gazed off to the side at the broken window. “Do you have a plastic garbage bag and some tape?”
She headed inside to get them, wondering what she and Faith should do now. Move again? Her savings wouldn’t last forever, and Faith was so close to term….
“Maybe we should call the police,” he said.
She jumped at the sound of his voice because she hadn’t realized he was so close behind her. “And tell them what?” she asked. “That I have a broken window? They’ll advise me to wait until morning and call a glass company.”
“Miguel will take you seriously.”
