Dream a Little Dream

  "Are you the one who destroyed the drive-in?"

  "No." He shook his head emphatically. "No. I don't know who did that."

  "Why have you told me all this?"

  He shrugged. "Lisa and Fran don't think too much of me anymore. But I still love my little girl, and I know I owe you."

  She tried to take it in. If he'd made his confession at any other time, she'd be furious, but right now she didn't have energy to spare on Russ Scudder.

  "All right. You've told me."

  He didn't seem to expect any words of forgiveness, and she didn't utter them.

  Later, as she sat in the dark on the small metal cot with her knees drawn up in front of her, she gave in to despair. Despite her tarnished reputation, despite all the evidence, Gabe had to believe her.

  He had to.

  The digital clock next to his bed read 4:28. Cal looked across the pillow at Jane curled up against him and knew that guilt had awakened him, along with worry about Gabe. Where was he?

  Right after they'd tucked the children into bed, Cal had driven up to the cottage, even checked his parents' house in town, but he couldn't find any sign of his brother.

  Cal still hadn't told Jane he was the one who'd pressed charges against Rachel. He'd kept finding excuses to postpone it, mainly because he hated her to be unhappy. Then they'd started to make love, and afterward they'd both drifted off. Still, keeping this from her wasn't right, and he resigned himself to breaking the news as soon as she woke up. No more excuses. No more postponements. He'd simply have to make her understand.

  It wouldn't be easy. Jane didn't have any family, so she couldn't fully comprehend the bond he shared with his brothers. And she hadn't known Gabe long enough to realize what a soft touch he was. But Cal knew. And he'd guarded his brother as zealously as he guarded everyone he loved.

  He thought of Rachel all alone in her jail cell and wondered if she was awake, too, worrying about her little boy.

  Why hadn't she considered that little boy before she'd struck out against Gabe?

  He wanted to believe that she'd acted impulsively, without considering the effect her cruelty would have on a man who had finally been able to start a new life, but that didn't excuse her. She was one of those self-focused people who couldn't see any farther than her own needs and frustrations, and now she had to suffer the consequences. Satisfied that he was doing the right thing, Cal finally drifted off.

  An hour later, he was jarred awake by the sound of door chimes, along with a furious pounding. Jane bolted upright next to him. "What's that?"

  "Stay here." Cal was already out of bed. Grabbing a robe to cover his nakedness, he thrust his arms in the sleeves as he rushed out of the bedroom and down the stairs. When he reached the front door, he looked through the peephole. Relief rushed through him as he saw Gabe on the other side.

  He threw open the door. "Where the hell have you been?"

  Gabe looked terrible, red-eyed and exhausted, with stubble covering his jaw. "I can't find Rachel."

  Cal stepped back to let him in. "You have a key. Why didn't you let yourself in?"

  "I forgot. And I needed to talk to you." He shoved his hand through his hair. "Have you seen Rachel? She was supposed to be staying at Kristy's condo, but nobody was there. I drove to the cottage. It's empty. Jesus, Cal, I can't find her anywhere. I'm afraid she's taken off."

  "Cal, what's going on?"

  Both of them looked up to see Jane coming down the stairs. She'd pulled on her pink nightshirt with a picture of Tinker Bell on the front. The fact that one of the most brilliant female physicists in the world had a fondness for cartoon nightwear usually made Cal smile, but not now. He wanted to keep her out of this.

  Cal's uneasiness grew as Gabe rushed to the bottom of the stairs. His brother had always been a man who moved slowly—an easy walk, contained gestures. Now his movements were frantic. "I can't find Rachel. Like a fool, I walked out on her at the drive-in, and I haven't seen her since."

  Jane looked confused. "She's in jail."

  Gabe stared at her. "Jail?"

  Jane touched his arm, her expression mirroring her concern. "I don't understand. Cal told me how Rachel vandalized the drive-in, and that you had her put in jail."

  Seconds ticked by, then Gabe and Jane both turned to him, the motion so synchronized they might have been attached at the head.

  He shifted uncomfortably. "I didn't actually say that it was Gabe, sweetheart. You just assumed…"

  She was getting her squinty-eyed look, and he quickly turned to Gabe, keeping his voice calm and comforting as he spoke. "Rachel's the one who destroyed the drive-in, Gabe. I'm sorry. We found the money from the register, along with some other things, hidden in the Escort. I knew you'd want Odell to press charges, so I did it for you."

  Gabe's voice sounded as if it had been dragged over sandpaper. "You had Rachel thrown in jail?"

  Cal pointed out the truth as gently as he could. "She broke the law."

  The next thing he knew, he was flying across the foyer. As the back of his leg hit the rim of the Las Vegas fountain, he lost his balance and fell, ass-first, into the water.

  Gabe watched the water splash over the edge of the fountain while he tried to suck enough air into his chest to breathe. Once he could do that, he was going to kill his brother.

  Cal struggled to sit upright, his robe swimming around him. "She trashed your drive-in! She belongs in jail!"

  Gabe erupted and shot toward the fountain, but before he could get there, Jane threw herself between them. "Stop it! This doesn't help Rachel."

  "Help Rachel, my ass!" Cal exclaimed, wiping the water from his eyes. "Gabe's the one who needs help!"

  Gabe shot around Jane and reached down to grab his brother by the collar of his robe. "It's my drive-in, you son of a bitch, not yours! And you didn't have any right!" He shoved him back into the water.

  God… He'd broken out in a sweat. Rachel was in jail, and that might be Cal's fault, but it was his fault, too, because he'd run. At the time, all he could think about was getting away. He'd been too much of a coward to stay right there and deal with what had happened.

  He had to get to her, and he spun toward the door only to freeze in his tracks at the sound of a small, familiar voice coming from the top of the stairs.

  "Gabe?"

  He looked up and saw Chip standing there in his Macho Man T-shirt and little white cotton briefs. A rooster tail of light-brown hair stuck up from the back of his head, and silvery tear streaks glistened on his cheeks.

  "Gabe?" he whispered. "Where's my mommy?"

  Gabe felt as if his heart were cracking open, but this time it didn't spill bile. This time it spilled fresh red blood, full of life and need and love. He took the stairs two at a time and swept the child up in his arms. "It's okay, buddy. I'm going to get her right now."

  Brown eyes stared into his own. "I want my mommy."

  "I know you do, son. I know."

  He felt Chip trembling beneath his palms and knew he'd started to cry. To protect his privacy, he carried him into the guest room. There wasn't a comfortable chair, so he sat on the side of the bed and cradled him in his lap.

  The little boy's tears were mostly silent ones. Gabe held him against his chest and stroked his hair. As much as he needed to get to Rachel, he had to take care of this first.

  "Something bad's happened to my mommy, hasn't it?"

  "There's been a misunderstanding, a big mix-up. Your mom's safe, but I think she might be scared, and I have to go get her."

  "I'm scared, too."

  "I know you are, son, but I'm going to bring your mom back to you real soon."

  "Is she going to die?"

  Gabe pressed his lips to the top of the child's head. "No, she's not going to die. She's going to be fine. Just scared, is all. And probably mad, too. Your mom can get real mad."

  Chip nestled closer, and Gabe stroked the curve of his arm. It felt so good he wanted to cry himself.

  "Why was Ros
ie's dad sitting in the fountain?"

  "He… uh… slipped."

  "Gabe?" ,

  "Yes?"

  The child's soft deep breath was a whisper in the night-quiet room. "I forgive you."

  Tears stung Gabe's eyes. Chip had offered his forgiveness much too easily. The child wanted stability so badly he'd do anything to get it, even put aside the wrong Gabe had done to him.

  "You don't have to. What I did was pretty bad. Maybe you need to think about it some more."

  "Okay."

  Gabe took the child's hand in his own and stroked the palm with his thumb.

  The solid weight of the boy's head sank against his chest. "I thought about it," he whispered. "And I forgive you."

  Gabe kissed his hair again, blinked, then eased back just far enough to gaze down into Chip's small face. "I have to go find your mom now. I know you're going to be scared until she gets back, so why don't we sneak into Rosie's room with some blankets and make a bed for you on the floor next to her crib. Would that make you feel better?"

  Chip nodded, then wriggled out of Gabe's lap and grabbed his pillow. "I used to sleep in Rosie's room when I was a baby. Did you know that?"

  Gabe smiled at him and picked up the comforter. "You don't say."

  "Uh-huh. We have to be real quiet so we don't wake her up."

  "Real quiet." With the comforter tucked under one arm, he took Chip's hand and walked out into the hallway.

  "Gabe?"

  "Yes?"

  Chip stopped walking and gazed up at him, wide-eyed and earnest. "I wish Jamie could sleep in Rosie's room, too."

  "Me too, son," Gabe whispered. "Me too."

  Gabe would have torn Salvation apart to get Rachel out of jail, but, fortunately, as soon as he started pounding on the front door of Odell's house, the police chief woke up, so it wasn't necessary.

  By seven o'clock, Gabe was pacing the floor of the main room of the police station, his eyes glued to the metal door that led to the jail. As soon as he got the chance, he was going to tear his brother apart.

  But he knew he was shifting the blame away from where it belonged. If he hadn't run away, none of this would have happened.

  When he'd left the drive-in, he'd driven across the county line and ended up at an all-night truck stop drinking lethal coffee and facing his demons. The hours had ticked by, and it was nearly dawn before he'd figured out that Rachel had been right all along. He'd been using the Pride of Carolina to hide out. Although he'd been existing, he hadn't really been living. He didn't have the guts.

  The door opened, and Rachel appeared. She froze as she caught sight of him.

  Her face was pale, her hair tangled, and her calico dress a mass of wrinkles. The big black shoes plunked down at the ends of her slender legs looked like concrete blocks, one more burden weighing her down. But it was her eyes that tore a hole in his chest. Big, sad, uncertain.

  He shot across the room and gathered her into his arms. She shuddered, and, as she trembled against him, he thought of Chip, who'd done the same thing earlier. And then he didn't think of anything but holding tight to this feisty, stubborn sweetheart of a woman who'd pulled him back from the grave.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

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  Rachel sagged against Gabe's chest. As she felt his arms wrap around her, she could barely speak. "Where's Edward?"

  "With Cal and Jane." His hand stroked her hair. "He's fine."

  "Cal—"

  "Shh… Not now."

  The police chief spoke from behind them. "We got evidence, y'know."

  "No, you don't." Gabe drew away from her and drilled Odell with his gaze. "I put those things in the Escort myself, right before I drove off."

  She sucked in her breath. He was lying. She could see it in his face.

  "You?" Odell said.

  "That's right. Me. Rachel didn't know a thing about it." The steely note in his voice dared Odell to contradict him, and the police chief didn't try. Gabe tightened his grip around her shoulders and steered her toward the door.

  Daylight had broken, and, as she breathed in the clear air, she didn't think she'd ever smelled anything so beautiful. She realized Gabe was leading her toward a Mercedes, parked in a space marked Reserved for the Chief of Police. It took her a moment to remember the car was his, since she'd never seen him drive anything but his pickup.

  "What's this?"

  He opened the door for her. "I wanted you to be comfortable."

  She tried to smile, but it wobbled at the corners.

  "Slide in," he said gently.

  She did as he asked, and before long, they were traveling through Salvation's deserted streets, accompanied by the rich purr of a flawless German engine. As they reached the highway, he rested one hand over her thigh.

  "I promised Chip I'd have you back in time for breakfast. You can stay in the car while I go inside and get him."

  "You saw him?"

  She waited for that stiff, distant look to settle over his face the way it always did whenever her son's name came up, but Gabe seemed more worried than aloof. "I didn't tell him you were in jail."

  "What did you say?"

  "Just that there was a mix-up, and I had to go get you. But he's a sensitive kid, and he picked up the fact that something was wrong."

  "He's going to be imagining the worst."

  "I made a bed for him so he could sleep on the floor next to Rosie's crib. That seemed to settle him down."

  She stared at him. "You made a bed for him?"

  Gabe looked over at her. "Just leave it alone for now, will you, Rach?"

  She wanted to question him farther, but the hint of entreaty in his expression silenced her.

  They drove another mile or so without speaking. She needed to tell him about Russ Scudder, but she was too tired, and he seemed preoccupied. With no warning, he pulled the car off onto the shoulder, slid down the driver's window, then gazed at her, looking so troubled she was alarmed.

  "There's something you're not telling me, isn't there?"

  "No," he replied. "I'm just trying to figure out how to go about this."

  "Go about what?"

  He leaned forward, slipped his fingers around her calf, and lifted it. "I know you've been through a lot, Rach, but I need something from you. I need it pretty bad."

  Puzzled, she watched him draw off her shoe. Did he want to make love? But surely not here. It was fully daylight, and, although the traffic was thin, they were far from alone on the highway.

  He pulled off her other shoe and feathered a gentle kiss over her lips. It felt good, more comforting than passionate, and she wished he'd keep kissing her like that, but he backed away, brushed the hair from her face, and gazed down at her with tender eyes.

  "I know I'm a jerk. I know I'm insensitive and domineering and a couple dozen other things, but I can't look at you in these a minute longer." With a flick of the wrist, he hurled both of her shoes right out the window.

  "Gabe!"

  He threw the car into drive, and they shot back out onto the highway.

  "What are you doing?" She turned in her seat and tried to catch sight of her precious shoes. "They're all I have!"

  "Not for long."

  "Gabe!"

  Once again, that warm, comforting hand settled over her thigh. "Hush. Just hush, will you, sweetheart?"

  She slumped back into the seat. Gabe had gone crazy. That was the only explanation. The destruction of the drive-in had pushed him right over the edge.

  The inside of her head felt like a soggy loaf of bread, and she couldn't think. Later, she'd sort it out.

  The praying-hands gates stood open for them. Gabe drove through and pulled the Mercedes to a stop in the center of the courtyard. One of her sweat socks had fallen off when he'd removed her shoe, and she bent to take off the other one, then opened her car door.

  He looked over at her. "I told you I'd go in and get him."

  "I'm not afraid of your brother."

  "I didn't say y
ou were."

  "I'm going in."

  She climbed the front steps barefoot. Her hair hadn't been near a comb since yesterday afternoon, and her calico dress was a road map of wrinkles, but she hadn't done anything wrong, and she wasn't going to hide from Cal Bonner.

  Gabe came up next to her, as steady and solid as forever. Except Gabe wasn't forever. She would be leaving him behind tomorrow morning when she and Edward got on the bus.

  The door was unlocked, and he gently steered her inside. Jane must have been watching for them because she immediately rushed into the foyer from the kitchen. She was dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Her normally tidy hair was loose and her face clear of makeup.

  "Rachel! Are you all right?"

  "I'm fine. Just a little tired. Is Edward up yet?"

  "Rosie just woke him." She caught Rachel's hands in her own. "I'm sorry. I didn't know what Cal had done until a few hours ago."

  Rachel nodded, not knowing how to respond.

  Just then, a baby's high-pitched squeal came from the top of the stairs followed by a little boy's belly laugh. She raised her head and looked toward the balcony in time to see Cal coming out of the nursery with Rosie and Horse tucked under one arm and her son under the other. He bounced both children and made a train noise, only to freeze as he saw the trio in the foyer below.

  Edward lifted his head and spotted her. He was wearing the same navy shorts he'd had on when she'd left him with the sitter yesterday evening, but the blue T-shirt hanging so loosely from his shoulders must have come from Jane because it read Physicists do it theoretically. "Mommy!"

  She wanted to run to him and squeeze him until all her fears went away, but that would only frighten him. "Hey, sleepyhead."

  Cal lowered him to the carpet, and he came racing down the stairs, one hand on the banister, sneakers flying. "Gabe! You said she'd be back!" He ran across the hallway and hurled himself against her legs. "Guess what? Rosie pooed in her diaper and smelled up the whole room, and her dad called her Rosie Stink-O."

  "Did he?"

  "It was a big mess."

  "I'll bet."

  Rachel lifted her head and looked toward Cal, who was coming down the steps with his daughter tucked in the crook of his arm. He regarded her stonily.