Dreams Don't Wait (Contemporary romance) (22 page)

"I think we can safely say our mission is accomplished. There're only a few kids left, and their parents are here to pick them up," Evan replied.

Maud wiped her hands and came to look out the window. "I think it went well, don't you? Jenny had a wonderful time. And did you
see
her face when Linc gave her the pup? What was it she called her again?"

"Copper," Evan answered.

"Yes. Copper." Maud smiled before continuing. "I thought her grin would never quit." She nodded in Linc's direction. He was talking to one of the children's fathers. "I know he spoils her sometimes, but... well... he's such a wonderful father. So loving. So unlike—" She stopped.

"So unlike his own parents?" Evan finished for her.

"They were so distant. So caught up in their own affairs that..." Her voice faded. "Well, you know all that. No need to belabor it."

No, no need. She understood perfectly. And Linc was right. There was nothing more important to a young child than warm, loving parents; accessible parents who were there—
always
—when the child needed them most, not holed up in some classroom writing finals.

She studied the sharp lines of the black-and-white tiled floor and drank the last of her cola. Yes, she knew all that, agreed with it. The question was, could she be such a parent? Certainly her life would be easier raising Jenny than it had been with Cal. That was obvious. But
easier
didn't demand any less commitment.

"Evan." Maud was craning to see out the window. "Do you see Jenny anywhere?"

Evan scanned the huge expanse of lawn. Linc was saying goodbye to the last of the parents. There was no sign of Jenny or Copper. Evan quickly walked to the French doors and stepped out. Maud followed.

"You check the house, Maud. I'll take a good look around outside." Evan's pulse was starting to jump as she left the house.

Within minutes both women were back in the kitchen. They arrived as Linc came into the house, Cal at his side. He didn't miss the anxious expressions on their faces. "What is it?" he asked.

"We can't seem to find Jenny, Linc," Evan said, keeping her tone neutral so as not to alarm him. "Are all the other children gone?"

Linc nodded, his expression taut. "When did anyone last see her?"

"Near the edge of the lawn with the pup—maybe fifteen, twenty minutes ago," Cal offered.

"She can't be far then," Linc said crisply. "Cal, you and Maud take the road. You go one way. Maud the other. Evan and I will check the beach."

Everyone nodded, and Evan instinctively reached out to touch Cal's hair. It was a gesture of remembrance. A grim determination descended over all of them.

"Let's go," Linc said, then mumbled under his breath, "Thank God we have lots of light yet. She can't be far."

* * *

Two hours later, the light was fading and four uniformed policemen had returned to the main house after conducting their own search. A fruitless one. There'd been no sign of Jenny or the pup. It was time for paperwork.

Evan couldn't bear to look at Linc, who was pacing the room with the desperation of the impotent, anguish drawing his face into hard, rigid lines. Again his hand forked through his hair as he stopped to answer a policeman's question. Evan was certain this was the first time Linc had ever faced a situation so beyond his control. She remembered the feeling all too well.

The atmosphere in the elegant room seethed with the unbearable frustration of those present. Pain, fright, and mind-numbing worry were as tangible as the books on the shelves. Evan fought back tears and the enveloping terror that a missing child evokes. Her skin went damp and clammy as her own memories of Cal's disappearance overwhelmed her, chilling her insides until her bones were ice. Reliving this nightmare with Linc had opened old wounds that tore at her heart. She looked up at his grim face and prayed.

Two hours. Jenny had been gone two interminable hours. But Cal had been gone for nearly four, and he'd been okay. Everything had worked out.
Dear God, please make Jenny okay. Bring her safely home.

Abruptly Evan rose from her chair. She had to get out of there. They'd been back at the house for only ten minutes; it seemed like an hour. She had to keep looking for Jenny. Linc's eyes locked with hers. His face was ashen. He nodded.

"Let's go," he said, reaching for her hand.

The younger officer tried to dissuade him. "Mr. Stewart, we should finish this report."

"Later," Linc said tersely, then added,
"after
we find my daughter."

Without another word, they headed toward the beach. They passed Maud on the way. At their silent question, she shook her head. "I'm going back up the road," she added.

"Is Cal still down there?" Evan asked, gesturing toward the shoreline. She rubbed her hands, trying to warm them.

Maud nodded. "But I haven't seen him for a while."

"Which way did he go?" Linc asked.

"Left, toward the cove. He hasn't stopped looking, you know, not even for a minute." Maud's voice broke and her eyes were glazed with unshed tears. Evan could see the effort of will it took for her to hold them back. It was as if they all knew it was not the time for tears. Tears were for grieving. They would not grieve. They would find Jenny.

The light was fading rapidly as Linc and Evan reached the rocky beach. They were about to split up when Evan raised a hand. "Listen," she said.

It was faint, but from the distance came the unmistakable sound of Cal's voice. He was shouting, but even straining to hear, they couldn't decipher his words.

Something in his voice did come through, and in that instant Evan knew.

"Come on, Linc. He's found her; I know he has."

Linc and Evan raced down the beach in the direction of Cal's voice. They found him with a very tired and frightened five-year-old girl and a pup considerably the worse for wear. The pup was in his arms. Jenny rushed into her father's embrace, tears coursing across one of the dirtiest faces Evan had ever seen.

"I found her way past the cove," Cal said. "She and the pup must have been traveling flat out to cover so much ground."

"I went too far, Daddy. Copper wouldn't stop, and then..." Jenny sniffed into her father's shoulder, before turning sad eyes to Evan. "And then she hurt herself, and she wouldn't come. I couldn't leave her by herself. Cal thinks she's sprained." With that came a full-scale plea. "Will you fix her, Daddy? Please."

"Shush, honey, Daddy will fix her. Let Evan hold you a minute while I take a look."

Linc and Evan exchanged weary, grateful smiles as Jenny went from his arms into hers. The child wrapped herself around Evan's still-trembling body with the easy dexterity of a young monkey. Evan cupped her bottom, kissed her, and held her close. "You scared us silly, you know," she said and kissed her again. "You should have come back for us, sweetheart. We would have helped you with Copper." Evan then gave her a big hug. "Promise me you won't ever,
ever
go away again."

"I promise, Evan," Jenny said solemnly. "Did I make a blooper?"

Laughter, half nerves, half relief, welled up from Evan's heart. "A great big one, sweetie. One big enough to last your dad and Maud a very long time. From now on, neither of them will want to let you out of their sight."

Linc glanced up from where he was kneeling by the whimpering pup. She saw the question in his eyes before her gaze slid from his.

"Now, let's go tell Maud we found you," she added.

* * *

Within minutes, the police were gone, and Maud was upstairs helping Jenny with her bath. Linc went to the bar in the family room and poured himself a drink. He downed the shot of scotch in one swallow, closed his eyes against the burn, and leaned back against the bar. When he opened his eyes, he turned them on Evan. "I think I can honestly say that's the first time I've ever
needed
a drink. God, what a nightmare."

She nodded, watching as his tension eased and wishing her own hopelessly knotted state would let up. "She's safe now. Everything's all right."

"Yeah." He gestured toward the bar. "Are you sure you wouldn't like something?"

She shook her head. "If it's okay with you, I think I'll go to the cabin." Her eyes dropped. "I'm tired, I need a shower, and you should spend some time with your daughter. She might have trouble sleeping tonight. I remember when Cal—" She stopped before she started to ramble.

Linc stared at her, not moving. His eyes were sharp, probing. Evan rubbed a palm against her thigh. When his gaze traced her movement, her hand stilled.

"Something's wrong," he stated flatly.

"No. Nothing's wrong." The intensity of his stare made her feel cornered. "Like I said, I'm tired. I think I'll talk to Cal for a while and then go to bed. I'll, uh, see you tomorrow."

Momentarily his gaze questioned; then he nodded reluctantly. He walked toward her and put his hands on her upper arms. When he rubbed them softly, the heat of his hands penetrated her flesh like warm oil. He leaned down to kiss her. "Tomorrow then," he murmured against her lips, before pulling back and striding from the room.

Tomorrow?
Evan didn't think so.

* * *

Evan stood over the frying pan, staring at the eggs as their edges curled and darkened. It was the wisp of pan smoke that roused her. She tucked a curse under an exasperated breath and dumped the contents of the pan into the trash.

Just then Cal came out of the bathroom.

"Hey, nice work, Mom." He sniffed and headed for the toaster, from which he pulled two blackened squares. "Now, this"—he held them up—"is truly an accomplishment. Burned toast from an automatic toaster." He dropped the charred bread in the garbage along with the eggs.

"The toaster's new," she said, trying not to sound defensive. "I guess I forgot to adjust the settings."

"Whatever." With that his autopilot took him to the fridge. He opened the door and perused the contents with the eye of a true connoisseur. For Cal all things food related were serious business.

"Cal?" Evan broke the last two eggs into the pan.

"Uh-huh?" He pulled out the orange juice.

"How would you feel about..." She swallowed hard.

"Yeah?" He took a swig of juice from the bottle.

"I told you not to do that. It's... disgusting," she snapped.

Cal held up his hands in a gesture of peace. "Okay, okay. Sorry." He dug out a glass. "Better?"

"Better." Evan turned back to the frying eggs.

"So? How would I feel about what?" he asked.

Evan stiffened. Here it was. She couldn't put it off any longer. She owed it to Cal to be honest. That's the way it was between them.

"Moving."

Cal gave her his full attention. "Tell me you didn't say what I thought you said."

She turned. "I said
moving
."

"Sh—" he stopped himself just in time. "But why? Why move now? I thought everything was set, that we had this place for at least a year. Rent-free. That's what you said."

"I did and we do, but... things change."

Cal gave her a steely look. She dropped her eyes. He wasn't going to make this easy.

"Mom, this place is fifteen minutes from U Vic. I finished registering for my classes last week. What's the deal here?"

She started to speak and couldn't. She wanted to be honest with Cal, but she'd never had to deal with anything this personal before. The words wouldn't come. It was Cal who supplied them.

"It's you and Linc, right?" He had the grace to color a little. Obviously this conversation wouldn't be easy for him either.

She nodded. "Yes." She turned off the latest batch of burned eggs and leaned against the counter to face her son.

"So?" he urged, and cocked his head. "He wants us to leave?"

"Not yet, but he will."

"I don't get it."

"He wants me to marry him, and I, uh, don't want to." She took a long breath. "When I tell him that, it's a safe bet he won't want us around."

Cal stared at her as if she'd just landed in the room wearing a cape and goggles. "You're kidding. This is wild. You're going to say no—to Linc." He shook his head. "You're nuts, Mom. He's completely cool."

"Maybe so, but I can't marry him, and I don't think you need to know more than that," she said. "I'll look for a new place for us—as close as I can get to the university. When I find it, we'll move."

Cal's lips compressed into a rigid line. He took a moment before saying, "I don't think so."

"I beg your pardon."
Evan who'd turned back toward the counter, swung to face him.

"I said I don't think so. I'm going to stay here. Linc didn't ask
me
to marry him, and the way I see it"—he shrugged before giving his shoulders a straight stubborn set—"I'll still be welcome here. I can baby-sit Jenny as well as you can, if that's what it takes."

"You can't be serious. That's crazy. You're not old enough to be left on your own."

"I'm nearly seventeen. That's old enough not to have to move when you don't want to."