The Ballerina's Stand (20 page)

Lauren sat forward, set the cup down and flipped the file open. She hadn't been aware of Pal Haymaker until just weeks ago. How long had he known about her life? Had he watched from afar? Or had he been ignorant of everything she'd faced? And now, frowning, she wasn't sure she wanted to know anymore.

She was surprised to see her publicity picture under the legal paperwork, but none of the rest was a surprise. She knew and remembered every one of the foster homes listed here. She swallowed back her anxiety.

Jason leaned forward, and she looked over at him. He signed slowly, asking if she was okay. She nodded, lying to them both.

“How did you get all this?” she asked.

“Pal hired a
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. Trey dropped it off at my office.”

Her father had hired a private investigator? He seemed to have tried to find her and piece together her life. He'd found all this. Surely—

She shut off those thoughts and went back to the file.

As she flipped pages, something fell out. A photo. It landed on the floor and slid away. Jason jumped up, almost too quickly, to grab it. He stared at it before extending it to her.

“Who?” he asked.

She took the photo, and gasped as if a fist had slammed into her chest. Kenny. Not the Kenny who had tormented her all those years ago. Not the wild boy who had been hell on wheels and then some.

No, this was a man. An evil-looking man. A mug shot. She could only stare. She'd have never recognized him. But that stare? She'd never forget that. Finally, putting the picture to the side, she fought the temptation to turn it over, but that would be giving in to the bullying Kenny had excelled at.

Hastily, she pawed through the file, looking for the rest. Finally, she stared at the papers that went with the mug shot. The rap sheet of charges and convictions. Plural.

She froze. Reading. All the things he'd done. Her stomach turned. Jason's palm settled warm on her arm, startling her, and she realized he was slowing her down.

“What's the matter?” he signed.

“It's him,” she answered. “
K
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.” Her fingers shook so badly, she could barely form the letters. The photo slid off the table and landed face down on the floor this time. Something about that face vanishing gave her room to breathe.

She gulped in air, realizing a panic attack was close. She hadn't had one in years.

She shot off the couch and walked away, pacing. She didn't want to see the memories. Didn't want to remember any of it. She closed her eyes, the darkness behind her lids easing the pain of both her injuries and her mind.

Who else had read this file? Her father. He'd seen the police reports. Of her attempts to run away. Of what Kenny had done to require a mug shot. Did he think Kenny had done something to her? Or did he think she was like Kenny, being a foster kid?

Was that why he'd never come to get her?

* * *

K
ENNY
,
WHOEVER
HE
WAS
, was the key to Lauren's past. Jason had gotten that impression from the copy of the rap sheet that Pal's investigator had put in the file and the look on Lauren's face when she saw it. Jason's stomach tightened. He had read about the man's crimes. Lauren wasn't listed as one of his victims. But that didn't mean she hadn't been one.

Jason managed to make her stop and take a minute, but her curiosity and other emotions he couldn't identify, soon dragged her back to the file. She stared, flipping the pages back, forth, rereading them.

When she looked up, there were tears in her eyes.

“What?” he asked.

Her fingers flew and he couldn't catch everything. He'd thought he'd gotten the hang of sign this morning. But it dawned on him now that he'd probably be taking classes for the rest of his life.

He ached to understand her, to know what she really felt. He wanted to talk with her about everything—about this—without having to use technology or an interpreter. He didn't want anything between them. He tried to catch more.

“He did this.” She pointed at the page and extended it to him. “He hurt them.” Her signs were simpler now. Direct. Harsh. Easier to read. She poked at the page with an angry finger, nearly punching through.

Jason nodded and sat down beside her on the couch. “That's why, this.” He flashed the mug shot. “They caught him.”

She waved her hands in the air, a sign he knew she'd created herself, as if she were erasing their conversation from a chalk board. “I.” She jabbed the center of her chest. “Should have helped. He tried with me, too.”

Jason had feared that when he'd first read the file. Had Pal wondered if the same things that had happened to those girls had happened to his daughter?

“Tell me,” he signed slowly, partially because of his ability, and partially to give her time to think and decide what she needed to share with him. He wanted to know—and yet, he didn't.

“I didn't do anything. He tried to—” She waved at the list of women Kenny had attacked. “I got away before he could. I ran like hell.” She paused, her gaze distant as if she saw the events of that day. “For hours.” Her hands slowed now. “And hours. I got lost.”

He imagined the young girl he'd recently seen photos of in the case files. “How old?”

She paused, looking down at the papers, then back up at him again. “Thirteen. I never told anyone.”

The same age as Tina. The need to punch someone or something roared through him. “You were only a kid.” He tried to soothe her, but it didn't work.

She looked back at the papers, now scattered over the table's surface. He wished he'd never seen the damned thing, wished he didn't have to answer the question he was pretty sure she was going to ask.

“My father knew all this?” She waved her hand over the mess.

Jason hesitated. “In the end? Yes.” He faced her, making sure she could clearly read his lips. “I don't know about when you were a kid.”

Her shoulders slumped. She made the now familiar sign for “thank you.”

Jason reached out, needing to touch her. Holding her hand hindered her ability to sign, so instead, he traced the soft edge of her jaw with his thumb. “For what?”

“Your honesty.”

Jason frowned and shook his head, not sure what she meant.

“For not sugar
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things,” she explained.

“This.” He waved at the mess. “Not your fault.”

Time froze and the air warmed as their gazes locked. Dear God, he was so proud of her. That scared young girl who'd grown into this strong woman, had run.

His mind filled with the image of the first time he'd seen her, running across that stage and leaping into the air with such ease and grace. Even when she'd been hurt, when she'd had to accept his help, she'd done it with strength and grace. She sure as hell hadn't learned that from her parents. Maxine? Perhaps.

Or maybe it was just who
she
was. He liked that idea. It was her strength, her ability, pure Lauren.

Jason suddenly understood what his brothers and sisters had all experienced. What they'd warned him would happen. What he could have sworn didn't really happen.

He was falling in love with her.

Time stretched out as Lauren sat staring at the scattered file. Jason watched her.

Then, suddenly her eyes widened and she stood. Her breath came in gasps as she yanked another photo to the top of the pile. An old Polaroid.

She stabbed it with her fingers. “What is this?”

Jason stood, walking around to see it more clearly. He'd read through most of the file, but it was all out of order now. The faded image of a log cabin nestled in a thick grove of pines was a splash of color against the white pages. She stabbed at the image with her finger again, demanding his answer.

She'd gone pale, her frown creasing her entire brow. When she looked up at Jason, her eyes were wide with confusion. “I feel—” Her finger lingered on her breastbone. She set the picture down. “It is
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.” Her frown deepened. “I do not remember—” She rubbed her forehead.

He had no clue what to say or do.

“Where is it?” Lauren stared unblinking at the photo. “Where?”

Jason moved pages around, looking for the deed to the property. He found it at the bottom of the scattered pile. He handed it to her, knowing it was up north, deep in the Cascade Mountains between California and Oregon. “It's yours now.”

“Mine?” The look on her face was a mixture of wonder and terror.

What was she thinking? What was driving her panic? He remembered some reference to the cabin in the will, but couldn't fully recall. Where were those papers? He looked through the scattered pages without success and finally asked Lauren for her copies. She went over to a leather bag that sat by the door.

She extended the papers he'd originally given her. He stared for an instant. Had that really only been a few weeks ago? He looked at her, not sure he remembered not knowing her.

He found the paragraph he'd remembered in the document and showed it to her. He was pretty sure the sign she made wasn't for pleasant company.

Pacing, she turned several times, and he could almost swear he saw the wheels turning in her head. “It's valuable, isn't it?”

“I—I think so.” Jason wasn't sure where she was going with this. Was that why the Haymakers were contesting the will?

“Can I sell it? Use the money for the studio?”

Ah, that made more sense. “I suppose.”

* * *

T
HIS
COULD
SOLVE
everything for her. Except something about the picture nagged at her. Something teased at her emotions. She couldn't look away.

Then Jason handed her another piece of paper. Absently, she looked at it. Then she looked at it again. The deed. Owner listed as Rachel Ramsey. Her mother. “What?” She looked up at Jason.

Flashes of light and memory cut through her brain. She closed her eyes, hoping maybe it was her eye injuries. But the dark behind her eyelids was filled with the same images. Only clearer.

Of sunlight pouring through a kitchen window framed with blue gingham curtains. Of wood paneled walls. Of a big, round braided rug and a fireplace with river rock around a carved, wooden mantel.

Lauren shook her head, a dull throb growing behind her eyes. Fatigue or emotions, she wasn't sure.

Jason touched her arm, startling her. She looked up at him. “Don't decide now. Let me call this man.” Jason lifted a business card.

She frowned reading the man's name. “Who is he?”

“The caretaker at the cabin.” He pointed at a property management title under the name Harley Stapleton.

“I can—”

“I know you can,” Jason interrupted.

She could see he wanted to do this, that he was trying, and failing to tamp down the need to take over. The fact that he tried to hold back made her stop and consider.

“Okay, only because I don't have a phone.”

“We'll get you one tomorrow.” He stepped closer, crouching down in front of her. “We'll decide after I talk to him.” He shook the card.

Lauren nodded. She didn't dwell on the fact that she was letting someone else take over. At least he'd asked.

This close she saw the irises of his eyes widen. She wasn't sure if he moved slowly, or if time itself slowed.

She reached up then, touching her palm to his cheek before pulling back to sign. “You can't keep taking care of me.” She shook her head, her curls dancing around her shoulders.

“Why not?”

They stared at each other. Lauren truly didn't understand his need to do exactly what she didn't want.

He leaned in and his lips, warm and strong on hers felt right. She let him pull her close, into his arms.

And then it didn't matter who was in charge or in control.

None of that mattered at all.

 

CHAPTER NINETEEN

L
AUREN
AWOKE
WITH
the comforting sense of a warm body beside her. Jason. She smiled and peeled away the bandages. For the first time in nearly a week, the morning light didn't stab at her eyes. She looked around, enjoying the simple view of her bedroom.

It was also the first time she'd had a man spend the night here. She looked over at Jason's broad shoulders and bare back, remembering the feel of both beneath her hands last night.

Her smile grew, and, as if he could feel her stare or hear her thoughts, he awoke. He turned and shifted, stretching like a cat. She enjoyed the view until he turned and his gaze met hers. Then there was no looking away, no denying she'd been watching him.

“Morning,” she saw his lips say.

“Morning,” she signed as he reached for her. The rough stubble of his morning beard scraped her neck, sending chills through her body. Such a masculine thing. And yet, his lips were a soft contrast as they found hers.

This was the perfect way to wake up. Wrapping her arms around his neck, careful not to be clumsy despite the cast on her arm, she returned his kiss.

Jason moved his big hands over her body, touching and warming her everywhere. At first slow, savoring, then more quickly—urgent.

As if he could read her mind, he seemed to know exactly when she needed him closer, deeper. And then he was there, moving inside her, taking her to the one place only they could go together.

His lips found hers again and with one last thrust, he sent them both over the edge.

Once her heart rate nearly returned to normal, she moved, but Jason had other ideas. His arms tightened. Rolling over, he took her with him, settling her head on his shoulder. She snuggled in close, savoring the intimacy.

This was how she wanted to wake up every day for the rest of her life—

Her eyes flew open, and Lauren resisted the urge to pull away. Instead, she looked up at the profile of the man she'd fallen in love with.

And she had fallen—hard and deep. He already took up space in her life. She'd never thought anyone could do that.

Did he feel the same? What
did
he feel for her? They hadn't talked about that.

Lauren wasn't stupid or naive enough to think sex equaled love, but the rest? The way he took care of her? Was that love, or just his chivalrous need to be in control?

Now, here in his arms, was not the time to puzzle through this. Not with his body so close and his touch so warm. Later, she'd think. Now, she just wanted to feel.

* * *

J
ASON
STARED
AT
his reflection in Lauren's bathroom mirror. He looked like hell, but Lord, it felt good.

She'd gone downstairs to figure out breakfast and he headed to the shower.

Something had changed about Lauren this morning. The anxiety of last night was gone, and she was smiling. The fact that her eyes were nearly healed and she was free of the bandages, had to be a big part of it.

She came up the stairs just as he was finishing his shower and handed him a steaming cup of coffee. Hers was already on the nightstand, so she must have made a couple of trips. The cast was still a hindrance.

Dressed in a bulky blue sweater and dark pants that hugged her shapely legs, Lauren looked beautiful as she curled up on the bed and leaned against the headboard. She looked every bit the confident ballerina. If he didn't have so much to do...

His phone rang on the nightstand, and he stalked over to it, intending to silence it. The number on the screen made him answer instead. “Hello.”

“Jason Hawkins? This is Harley Stapleton. You left me a message last night.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Sorry I didn't hear my phone. I was at dinner with my grandkids, and they're pretty danged loud.”

The man had a Texas drawl as thick as any Jason had ever heard. It shouldn't have surprised him since the man had worked for Pal, but it did.

“Thanks for returning my call, Mr. Stapleton.” Jason turned so Lauren could at least see his lips and “hear” his side of the conversation. Her eyes grew wide, and she carefully set her coffee cup down, as if she were afraid of spilling it.

She focused on his face.

“Please call me Harley, it's a much better fit than mister anything.” The man laughed.

“I'm glad you called, Harley. Lauren Ramsey and I would like to see the Haymaker property, if that's possible.”

“Sure is.” The man's enthusiasm came through the phone loud and clear. “It'll be mighty nice to see that little girl again. Pal kept me informed on all her doin's over the years, but it ain't the same.”

“You knew Lauren?”

“Last time I saw her, she was a little tyke, cute as could be. But, yeah.” There was an instant of silence. “Guess she's all grown up now.” There was a sadness in the man's voice, but he quickly cleared his throat to banish it. “When would you like to come up?”

“Today?”

“Sure, though I need to warn you, you get here to town, it's another couple of hours on horseback to get to the cabin.”

“You're kidding.”

“Nope, wouldn't kid about that.” Harley laughed. “Pal refused to build any roads. He was paranoid about anyone findin' the place.”

“Why was that?”

“Don't know why, just was.” As if that were explanation enough.

Jason frowned. That didn't sound like Pal. The man hadn't been afraid of anything. Or so Jason had thought.

Had there been threats? Jason thought of the file downstairs. Maybe there was more there. Looking at Lauren now, if someone threatened her—or his family—how would he react?

“If you want to come up today, I could get a reservation at the B&B for you, then we could head up in the morning,” Harley suggested, breaking into Jason's thoughts. Jason repeated the suggestion to Lauren. She frowned, but nodded.

“Sounds good.”

“Great, I'll have Lillian who owns the B&B set up a couple of rooms.”

“Thanks, Harley. We'll call you when we hit town.” Jason ended the call, taking a minute to frown at the phone and collect his thoughts.

Lauren's anxious stare nudged him to explain. “We have to ride horses to reach the cabin.” He'd laughed when they'd learned animal signs in class. Now he was glad for it.

“Horses?” Her eyes were wide. “I don't know how.”

“You can do it.” Jason actually looked forward to the prospect of sharing something with her from his world.

“How far?”

Jason shrugged. He hadn't asked distance. “A couple of hours. Hey, you can always ride with me.” He wiggled his eyebrows, which broke the tension and found him with a pillow aimed at his head.

He laughed, glad she'd set down her coffee when he launched himself, and the pillow, back at her.

* * *

W
HILE
J
ASON
RAN
to his office to finish a few things and clear his calendar, Lauren had gone to the store to get her new phone. Jason had offered to help, but she sent him away. She'd done this before.

On their way out of town they stopped at the mansion. Maxine had both kids on the dance floor.

“Of course they can stay until you return.” Maxine threw her hands wide, dramatic as usual. But the spark in the older woman's eyes told Lauren Maxine was thoroughly enjoying herself. And so was Dylan. Though Tina looked less than thrilled, she wasn't running away or arguing.

A short while later, Jason and Lauren were headed up the coast highway. Sunlight glinted off the polished hood of the car, and Lauren was glad for her dark sunglasses. Her eyes were hungry for sights now that the bandages were off. She drank in the bright blue sky and the sharp browns and greens of the earth's edge where the winding gray ribbon of highway cut into the hillside.

She rolled down the window, the cool air fingering through her hair. For the first time since the fire, perhaps since she'd met Jason, she felt like herself.

By the end of this trip, her eyes would ache, but they were healing well. She'd be fine. This was how she lived her life. Feeling happy and in control, she settled back to enjoy the ride.

The Mountainside Bed-and-Breakfast looked like a dainty fairy-tale house. Lauren thought it would be beautiful with holiday lights and a fresh coat of snow on its eaves and gingerbread trim. Maybe they'd come back around the holiday time.

“Anything look familiar?” Jason asked once he'd parked in front.

She shook her head. She'd wondered the same thing as they'd driven into town. If she'd been here before, wouldn't she remember
something
? She was disappointed that she didn't.

Harley met them for dinner in the B&B's small dining room. It reminded Lauren of the chair in Jason's kitchen, and she knew she was right. This type of setting suited him better.

The caretaker of her father's cabin definitely looked like someone who lived in Texas. His big cowboy hat, worn jeans and dusty cowboy boots fit in here, but she could tell he'd come from the Lone Star State. He could have stepped out of the pictures she'd first pulled up on her computer of Pal and Pal Jr.

“You grew up mighty pretty,” Harley told Lauren. Jason had to translate as she struggled to read the older man's lips. His accent was, according to Jason, deep Texas and he talked as if his jaw was wired shut.

When Jason explained about her lipreading, Harley pulled the toothpick from between his lips, thinking that was the problem. “Sorry about this.” He waved it in the air before putting it on his empty plate. “Picked up the habit when the missus made me give up my smokes.”

Lauren nodded. She'd have to rely on Jason, which was fine. He was getting quite good at sign.

She watched Harley for a long time. This man knew so much. Did she want to know what he could tell her? Where did she start asking?

Then he saved her. “Can I tell you some things I think you should know?” After Jason finished repeating what Harley had said, Lauren met the man's faded blue gaze and nodded.

“First, the cabin belonged to your mother. Pal built it for her, to thank her for takin' care of him.” At Lauren's frown, the old man explained how Pal had been in Vietnam, and had fallen from a helicopter. His injuries had left his legs damaged, requiring him to need surgeries and treatments all through his life. Rachel was a nurse who worked with orthopedic patients.

She'd been much younger than Pal, but that hadn't mattered. “Apparently, somethin' happened. You're here.” Harley smiled.

A nurse. Somehow, Lauren knew that. She didn't know how she knew it, but she did. “Did they—we—ever live at the cabin?” Wouldn't she remember that? The sadness that blanketed Harley's face when Jason repeated her question told her maybe she didn't want to remember.

“Your mother was one of those people who lit up the whole world, you know.” He paused for a long time.

She met Jason's gaze that held as many questions as her mind did.

Finally, Harley spoke, but he looked down, and Lauren wanted to scream as she had to wait for him to finish so Jason could translate for her. “She told Pal that she had cancer when they were up there.” Another long pause as Jason talked to her with his lips and some sign.

“She wanted to die there, but he wanted to take her all over the world for treatments.”

Lauren had known her mother had died from cancer. As a nurse, she'd have known what her chances were. She'd have known more of the realities than other patients. That made sense.

“What happened?” Lauren asked.

Harley looked up at her then, his eyes filled with a deep, sad pain. “She wouldn't go anywhere. She moved you in there for a while. Up until her last day, she refused to leave here. All she wanted to do was be with you. And she never stopped loving Pal.” Harley fidgeted with the salt and pepper shakers. “But Pal was an angry man. He thought if he left her, she'd change her mind and follow him.”

“She didn't.” Lauren made the sign, knowing even from the view of a five-year-old's memory that Rachel had made her decision and stuck with it. Jason curled his hand over hers.

Harley nodded. “After that, I don't know that I ever saw Pal happy again. He wouldn't forgive
her
for leaving
him
.”

Jason was nodding and she tilted her head, questioning his action. “What?”

He shrugged. “That describes how Pal was when I knew him. Angry and mean.” He looked at her. “Sorry.”

It might have hurt
if
she remembered or had known the man.

But she didn't. Not at all.

The conversation dwindled, and Harley headed home. “See you folks at 8:00 a.m.” He'd already given them the map to the stables, and a vague description of how they'd get to the cabin. It wasn't far as the crow flies. But they weren't crows, so they'd have a two-hour trek through the pass. “Should get us there before noon.”

* * *

J
ASON
COULDN
'
T
REMEMBER
the last time he'd felt this relaxed. Part of him felt slightly guilty, but not enough to make him change things. Being away from the office, on horseback, with Lauren. What more could he ask for?

He and Lauren had spent the morning getting her acquainted with the little mare, then following Harley's lead out of town.

It wasn't likely that they would make it back by nightfall so the old man had packed for an overnight trip with saddlebags and bedrolls. “Precautions,” he said as he strapped a rifle in its scabbard to his saddle.

Lauren frowned and Jason translated Harley's explanation. “We're going into the
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. Never can be too cautious. Lots of hungry critters are coming down from the high country because of the drought.”