She swayed as though she was dizzy. “You okay?” he called up to her.
“I’m fine.” Her hand swiped straw off her cheek. “Stand away from the ladder and I’ll come down. I have a skirt on.”
He should be so lucky as to see her legs. He walked over to lean against the door frame, but he had to resist the temptation to peek. She brushed the hay from her clothes, but the yellow stuff sticking from her hair stayed untouched. She probably had no idea how pretty she looked with the hay in her hair and a flush on her cheeks. He was mightily attracted against his own will and annoyed with himself enough to grit his teeth.
“You can turn around now,” she said.
She looked just as prim and proper as her voice. Except for the fact that the hay in her hair made her look as if she’d just tumbled in the haymow with someone. Before he could stop himself, his fingers were in her hair, and he was plucking out bits of hay. Thick and lustrous, her hair invited him to plunge his fingers in deeper.
He dropped his hands before he could be tempted further. “You in here feeling sorry for yourself?”
“Maybe.” She bit her lip as though she was sorry she’d said anything.
She swayed again as though she’d like to lean against him. It was probably wishful thinking on his part. “Anything I can do to help?” he asked.
“Not really. I’m just disappointed. I knew Reece loved to play mind games with me. But I thought maybe this time would be different. I’m no closer to finding out what happened to my daughter than I was when I came last week. Even here, I’m an outsider. I—I wanted so much for my daughter to be alive. I tried not to count on it.” She looked up at him as though he could make her wishes come true.
He stilled—his blood, his breath, his entire being. He should tell her. He knew it was the right thing to do, just as if God had whispered it into his heart. He could imagine the joy breaking over her face, could see the shine in her eyes. But once she realized the full story, he’d lose his daughter. He couldn’t give up Caitlin, wouldn’t give her up. The adoption wouldn’t be legal because Hannah had never signed away her rights. Any court would give Caitlin back.
“Aren’t you going to say anything? Some platitude about it being God’s will that I’m alone? I’ve already got that, believe me. I know he’s rejected me.”
He found his voice. “I’m not going to help you have a pity party. You’re young and healthy. You can have more children.”
“I can’t.” She shoved him with the palms of her hands. “The trauma made it impossible.”
“I’m sorry, Hannah.” Talk about heaping guilt on his head. He was in possession of the only child she’d ever have. Something told him to trust God with the outcome, but putting such a dangerous thought into action proved too difficult. “God still loves you. Your grief is all that’s making you hold him at arm’s length. It wasn’t your fault. Evil will always be around. It had nothing to do with you.” Her eyes showed her pain. He cupped her cheek in his palm. “You’ll find the right guy, Hannah. Your marriage to Reece was over long ago, the night he threw you down the steps. Get him out of your life once and for all. You don’t have to be alone.”
She rested her face against his hand in a trusting gesture. “No?” she whispered.
He knew he was playing with fire, but his gaze went to her lips. She leaned forward ever so slightly, but the movement entranced him. This couldn’t be love. You didn’t fall in love with someone in two minutes. But he could imagine what it would be like to gather her close, to inhale the sweet scent of her, to taste her lips. He could see her in his house, could anticipate how exhilarating it would be to come home to her every day. She’d make a wonderful mother. Did he have the right to deny Caitlin such a wonderful mother?
He pulled away and looked down into her face. Her long lashes fluttered against her flushed cheeks. The words “I love you” trembled on his tongue, but it couldn’t be true. He was reacting to the physical attraction between them. Besides, once words like that were spoken, there was no going back.
A heavy veil fell between them, the weight of it palpable. The weight of the truth, the weight of deception. Dropping his hands from her shoulders, he stepped away.
“I think I’ll get some coffee.” If he looked back at her face, he would lose his courage. He nearly ran for the door.
A CHILL FILLED the vacuum around Hannah that was created by Matt’s departure. She wasn’t so naive she couldn’t recognize how her soul longed for him. He was drawn to her as well. If he hadn’t gone, she might have kissed him. In his arms, she’d be wrapped in safety. Secure. His wife had been a lucky woman. She clasped her arms around herself. She had no right to even think like this. At least not until she was free of Reece.
She sighed like a silly schoolgirl. Don’t think about him. He would drive her crazy. The thought of loving someone again scared her to death. But Matt was nothing like Reece. She had to remember most men would never hurt their wives the way he had hurt her.
She shut the barn door behind her and headed for the house. The sun had begun to slip down the horizon. Three cats came running to meet her, and she stooped to pet them. “Where’s Spooky?” she asked them. Marmalade meowed as if to tell her all about it, and Hannah smiled. She called to the missing cat, but the black ball of energy didn’t appear. He was probably off chasing a chipmunk.
Supper was nearly ready when she left the cats and went inside, but she knew better than to offer to help. Matt stood talking to Luca about fishing, and she let her gaze rest on him a moment. It didn’t matter if her expression reflected her feelings. He wasn’t paying attention.
When she turned away, she found Angie watching her. The amusement in Angie’s eyes made Hannah’s cheeks burn. “I think I’ll run upstairs and wash up,” she muttered.
“I’ll come with you.” Angie trotted after her. She caught up with Hannah at the top of the steps. “What’s going on with you and Matt?”
“Nothing.” Hannah went to their room and began to search for a fresh blouse.
Angie jerked a plain white blouse out of her hand. “Don’t wear that.” She began to rummage in the closet. “I’m not stupid. I can see how much you watch him, and he does the same to you.” She pulled out a taupe blouse that wrapped and had a V-neck. “Wear this.”
“I can’t wear that.” Hannah frowned as she held it up.
“It won’t show your boobs or anything. It will just flatter your shape and your coloring. Try it on. You want Matt to notice you, right? Aw, you’re blushing. You’re not used to going after the man you want, are you?”
Hannah pressed her palms against her hot cheeks. “If he wants me, he can take me the way I am. Besides, I’m still tied to Reece.”
“Legally, yes, but you’re never going back to an abuser. It doesn’t hurt to put a little chocolate on the fruit.” Angie jerked the blouse down over Hannah’s head. “Were you in the haymow with him?” She plucked a strand of hay from Hannah’s hair.
“I was in the haymow, but not with Matt.”
“Too bad.” Angie’s grin was sly.
“You’re terrible.”
“Just honest. Has he kissed you yet?”
Hannah ducked her head and didn’t answer. She tugged on the blouse and tried to look down to see how it fit. At least it didn’t show any cleavage.
“He has kissed you, hasn’t he? I bet he’s a great kisser.”
“No, he hasn’t! He’s got more integrity than that. I’m still married.” Hannah laughed it off, but her cheeks and neck felt as if they would burn up any minute.
“Okay, okay. Sit down on the stool a minute and let me do something with this mop of yours. You’ve got hay and chaff all through it.”
Hannah sank onto the stool. In minutes, debris littered the floor around her. She reached up and touched her hair. “I should put it up.”
“No, you should not. I didn’t cut it so you could wind it all up and hide it. You look terrific. Let’s go eat.”
A model on di
splay couldn’t be any more self-conscious. Hannah followed Angie down the stairs. “Smells like beef and noodles with brown butter,” she said.
“It is.” Sarah didn’t look at her. “The table is ready for you and the children in the sitting room.”
Matt had seen her. His gaze followed her, and she hoped he didn’t think she was trying to attract him. Oh, who was she kidding—of course he knew. The whole family had to know. The new outfit was as blatant as a neon sign flashing “LOOK.” She practically ran from the room.
The children had their hands in their laps. “Naomi, would you like to pray?” Hannah asked in her rusty German.
Naomi nodded, and both little girls clasped their hands and bowed their heads. Hannah listened to the silence and remembered her own family. Luca had asked her not to endear the children to her, but she found it impossible not to talk to them and interact. By the time the meal was over, they were chattering to her as though she was their best friend. They helped her carry the plates back to the kitchen.
Luca stopped at the sink and glanced at her. “It’s good you have come back, Hannah. If there’s anything that belonged to your parents here, feel free to take it.”
Hannah wondered if he might know what had happened to the ring. “Luca, would you happen to know—”
“Hannah, could you hand me those plates?” Sarah broke in with a desperate edge to her voice.
Hannah blinked but handed over the plates stacked on the table in front of her. Sarah was accepting a favor? As Sarah took the plates, Hannah saw the plea in her eyes.
“Thanks. Matt, I’ve got some scraps you can feed the dog.” Sarah gave the bag to Matt.
Sarah didn’t want her to talk to Luca about the ring. Hannah decided to hold her tongue, but only until tomorrow when she could talk to her friend alone. Maybe Sarah would finally tell her what was going on.
“I’m going to go out and feed the cats,” Hannah said. She grabbed the cat food from the back porch and carried it into the yard. Three of the cats came running, but Spooky was still missing. Matt followed her, but he didn’t say anything and walked off toward the woods.
Did he suspect someone was out there? She hurriedly finished feeding the cats and went back inside.
“Have you seen Spooky?” she asked Angie. Through the window, the trees drew shadows against the backdrop of night. Her family had already headed to bed.
“Not since this morning,” Angie said.
“Maybe Matt has him.” Hannah stepped to the back door and peered out to where he stood staring off into the woods. His stance conveyed loneliness. Had he been watching for intruders or just craving some alone time? Interacting with the big family could be an intense experience. She couldn’t read his expression in the darkness. The backyard swallowed up any hint of illumination from the stars, and there was no moon. She slipped out to join him.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“Have you seen Spooky?”
“Like I’d be looking for a cat.”
She’d forgotten how much he hated cats. “Maybe he’s with Ajax. Where is he?”
“On the step.” He pointed out the dog, who had pricked his ears at the sound of his name. Ajax rose and stretched, then padded over to nuzzle her hand.
Hannah didn’t want to admit to her worry, but her mild misgiving ramped up to alarm. “He never stays away at mealtime. He loves his food.”
“Did you try calling him? Maybe he’s lost in the woods.”
Hannah didn’t want to admit something might have . . . eaten him. “I’ll go look.”
“Look, it’s a cat. He’ll be fine. Don’t tell me you’re one of those who think cats will climb a tree and then not be able to get down.”
“He’s a good climber. I’ll go find him.”
“Not without me. Reece could be out there. I’ll grab a flashlight.” Matt went past her into the house and returned moments later with a flashlight and a kerosene lantern. He gave her the lantern. “You take that since you know how to work it.” He called his dog to him. “You got anything of Spooky’s?”
“His bed.” She took the lantern, then ran to grab the pad from the back porch. “Here it is.” She handed it to Matt.
He held it under Ajax’s nose. “Find Spooky, boy.” The dog whined, then put his nose to the ground and began to pull Matt toward the woods. Matt flipped on his flashlight and went with the dog.
Hannah followed the wide beam cast by Matt’s flashlight. “Here, kitty, kitty,” she called. “Spook-man, where are you? Pur-r-r.” She made the purring sound that usually had the cats running to her.
“There’s a wild patch of catnip over this way,” Matt said, pointing to the left. “Ajax is leading that way. Let’s see if he’s there.” He unhooked Ajax’s leash, and the dog bounded ahead.
Hannah raised the lantern high and let its beam radiate through the trees as they entered the woods. The cool, damp air smelled of moss and dead leaves under the new vegetation. She stumbled over a fallen log and nearly fell. Stopping to catch her breath and her balance, she listened for a plaintive meow but heard nothing but frogs in the pond and the whir of mosquitoes dive-bombing for her skin.
Matt was a few feet ahead of her, and some whisper of alarm made her hurry to catch up with him. “You see anything?” she asked when she touched his arm and found it hard and tense.
His other hand covered hers. “Shh, I thought I heard something.”
She held her breath, listening to the night sounds of the forest. Then a faint sound reached her ears. A meow, she was sure of it. Ajax leaped from Matt’s side, and they heard him rustle through the weeds before the sound of his movement faded away.
“Ajax, come back here!” Matt called.
Hannah ran after the dog. “Maybe he can lead us to Spooky.”
“Not if he goes too far too fast.” Matt caught her arm. “Don’t go rushing off. It might be a trap.”
“A trap? It’s a lost cat.”
“Maybe. Your cats are used to roaming and coming home. So why didn’t Spooky?”
She tugged on her arm. “Maybe he’s hurt.”
“Maybe. But it’s my job to protect you.”
For some reason the bald words stung. She wanted him to protect her because he cared, but that was stupid. The interlude in the barn this afternoon must have meant nothing to him. She managed to pull her arm free, then moved forward, finding her way through the brambles and vines that tried to trip her up. The light from her lantern wavered and bounced, making the twisted branches and low shrubs look menacing. Matt’s paranoia was affecting her.
“Spook-man?” she called again. “Here, kitty, kitty.” The meow came again, an outraged sound that bounced off the trees. He was still some distance from her location, and she couldn’t quite tell which direction to head.
Matt caught her arm again. “This way.” He pulled her to the right. A small creek barred their way. “Careful, the rocks will be slippery.”
Hannah stepped out onto a rock. Cold water soaked through her shoes. The rocks almost seemed to roll under her feet, but it was only moss trying to shed her from its surface. Balancing with her outstretched arms, she tottered across the stream and only fell to her knees with the last leap onto the wet bank.
“You okay?” Matt hauled her up as if she weighed no more than his dog.
“Fine.” She brushed at the wet mud on her skirt. The cry from her cat came again. “He’s over this hill.”
“Yeah.” He took her hand and helped her up the slippery hillside.
The warm embrace of his hand around hers made it seem they were actually partners—and congenial ones at that. What might their relationship become if they could get past their previous hurts and move on to a new life? She was such a coward—she hadn’t even wanted to face the trouble of divorcing Reece.
Matt battered through some arching brambles and held them out of the way for her. She stepped into a small clearing with him. Holding her lantern high, she turned in the meadow. Metal caught
a beam from the light and bounced it back at her. Eyes glowed through the wire. A cat’s eyes.
Spooky paced a small cage placed in the center of the clearing. His plaintive cries rose to a crescendo. Ajax circled the cage and whined his sympathy. He pawed at the door. Hannah started forward, but Matt grabbed her arm.
He grabbed a stick and prodded the air and the ground with it before he approached the cage. Ajax began to bark, obviously thinking it a fine game.
Hannah started to follow Matt, but a hand smelling of onions clapped over her mouth. An arm came around her waist and pulled her back, dragging her into the bushes. She thrashed against the man and dropped the lantern. She tried to scream, but the animals were making so much ruckus that her muffled screech didn’t get past the strong hand. She thought she heard Matt calling her name in the distance. Reaching out, she grabbed at branches, but they were too thin and weak to support her and she was left with leaves.
“Sh, Hannah, don’t make a fuss.” Reece’s lips touched her ear, then traveled down her neck in a trail to her shoulder.
She shuddered when she realized who held her, then began to struggle more wildly. If only she could get her teeth into his hand. He dragged her farther away until she could barely hear the bark of the dog in the shrouding trees.
He shook her. “I said be quiet. I’ve got a gun, Hannah. Want me to shoot Matt?”
Hot moisture burned her eyes, and she blinked rapidly. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her frightened tears.
“Good girl,” he crooned. “I’ve missed you, Hannah. The smell of you, the taste of you.”
He nuzzled her neck, and bile rose in her throat at the sensation of his whiskers. A tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. He licked that up too. Matt called her name from somewhere.
“Sweet Hannah,” he whispered. “I know you’ve missed me. Our little girl misses her mother. We can be a family, my love, the perfect little unit. Just come home with me now. I’m going to take my hand away if you promise not to scream. Do you promise? Remember, if Matt comes running, he’s a dead man.”