Authors: Fern Michaels
Kentucky Sunrise (27 page)
Emmie blinked away her tears. She quickly saved the e-mail to her personal files before she printed it out. Then she ran to the backyard and waved the paper under her father's nose. “Quick, tell me what you think.” She watched, her heart beating like a trip-hammer, as he scanned the printout of Buddy Owens's e-mail.
“Is it a positive or a negative, Dad?” Out of the corner of her eye Emmie could see Gabby playing with her dolls.
“I think it's more positive than negative, honey. He wants to see Gabby. That's good but in the same breath he's saying he isn't going to invade your world or try to take her away. I think, overall, this is very encouraging. He's willing to sign off on her, and that's what you wanted. It is what you wanted, isn't it, Emmie?”
“Yes. No. I don't know, Dad. I've had nightmares where he would
swoosh
in and scoop her up, take her away, and I'd never see her again. Then another part of me wants Gabby to know her father. On my terms, though. He lives in Ohio, so visitation would be hard if he wanted to go to court to battle it out. I don't think he does. Buddy was never comfortable in what he called my world. I just don't see him being comfortable around Gabby. Children are very demanding. And yet, he's willing to come here and see her. Do you think that's suspect? What if, when he sees her, he changes his mind?”
swoosh
in and scoop her up, take her away, and I'd never see her again. Then another part of me wants Gabby to know her father. On my terms, though. He lives in Ohio, so visitation would be hard if he wanted to go to court to battle it out. I don't think he does. Buddy was never comfortable in what he called my world. I just don't see him being comfortable around Gabby. Children are very demanding. And yet, he's willing to come here and see her. Do you think that's suspect? What if, when he sees her, he changes his mind?”
“That's something you'll have to deal with if and when it happens. You knew that was a possibility once you let him know he had a daughter. I think you can handle it, honey. So can Gabby. I'll be your buffer.”
Emmie sat down on the bench by the picnic table. “It's going to rain. Maybe we should cook inside. He's not interested in me. I was sort of hoping he would say something like he missed me or . . .
something.
He could have remarried for all I know. I guess we just have to wait and see. Should I answer this, Dad?”
something.
He could have remarried for all I know. I guess we just have to wait and see. Should I answer this, Dad?”
“I would. Wait till tomorrow or the next day, though, so you don't appear too eager.”
“Okay. I'm going up to sit in the hot tub for thirty minutes. I might have overdone it a little today. Can you watch Gabby for me till I get through?”
“Of course. She's going to read to me while this grill heats up. Take your time, honey.”
“Make sure you come in if it starts to rain. They predicted heavy spring showers for late today.”
“Yes, Mother,” Dillon drawled. “Run along and take a good long soak. Here, take your letter with you.”
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Emmie leaned back to allow the supercharged jets to beat at her tired, aching muscles. She'd held her ex-husband's letter carefully, so it wouldn't get wet. Within five minutes she had it memorized. Was it a good thing or a bad thing? Her heart said one thing, her mind said another. She closed her eyes and relived the horrible moment when she'd walked down the gangplank beside her husband. They'd taken a cruise to try to get their marriage back on track. The moment they stepped onto the asphalt, Buddy had turned to her and said, using sign language, that he was leaving her and would file for divorce. She'd cried and pleaded, hung on to him like a petulant child until he shook her off as if she were a mongrel dog. She'd screamed at him, begged him not to leave her. She'd made a fool of herself when she screamed, “I won't talk anymore. I'll promise to sign from now on. I swear I will, Buddy.” Of course he couldn't hear her because his back was to her, but all the other disembarking passengers had heard. She could still see the pity in their eyes. It had been the worst day of her life.
Even now, just thinking about that hateful day made her burn with shame. She had been such a fool. Hugging her pregnancy to herself, she had raced home and cried for days and days. She felt like crying now, just thinking about it.
Emmie shifted in the tub to allow the jets to pummel her aching lower back. She heard the rain then. She loved spring rainstorms. A fitting end to an almost perfect day. Another five minutes and she could get out and get dressed.
Emmie pulled on her sweatpants as she stared out the porch windows. She burst out laughing as she watched her father roll up his pant legs, remove his shoes and socks. He scooped up Gabby and ran around the yard with her on his shoulders. The little girl squealed and shouted to be allowed to run in the rain with her grandfather. He obliged and took off her shoes and socks. Wherever there was a puddle, they stomped through it. Gabby's laughter wafted upward.
Not wanting to miss the fun, Emmie raced down the steps and outside. Arm in arm, they ran around the yard singing, “Rain, rain, don't go away. We want to play in the rain all day.”
When the last raindrop fell, they ran through the garage to the kitchen, laughing like lunatics.
“I can't remember when I had so much fun,” Dillon said as he brought out towels from the laundry room. Emmie toweled Gabby dry and sent her upstairs. “Put on your white sundress. The one with the yellow flowers on the skirt. Don't forget your sandals. I'll send Cookie up as soon as I dry him off.” She watched as chubby legs bounced up the steps. Unwilling to be toweled off, Cookie escaped and bounded up the steps after Gabby.
“I don't think I ever ran around in the rain. It just wasn't something we did on the farm. I did like to sit on the porch and watch the storms, though. I still do. How about you, Dad?” Emmie asked as she towel-dried her hair.
“The only time I ever remember running around in the rain was one summer night a long, long time ago. Your mother and I were in the barn, one of those illicit meetings, and it started to rain. I looked at her and she looked at me and we ran outside. It was dark, so no one saw us. It was hard not to laugh because we were having so much fun. Your mother never had much fun. She had this funny little laugh. I shouldn't be talking about the old days with your mother. It's just this old man's memory. Go upstairs and put on some dry clothes, Emmie. I have some here in the laundry room for myself.”
On her way up the kitchen staircase, Emmie smiled when she heard her father say, “Now, that was fun.” She continued to smile while she changed her clothes. She was still smiling when she walked down the steps with Gabby and Cookie.
When had she ever been this happy?
Never, that's when.
She thought about her mother. Nealy didn't like driving in the rain. Her fear and dislike of rain stemmed from the night she was forced to leave her home in Virginia, years and years ago.
When the sun came out a few moments later, Emmie heaved a sigh of relief.
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“What would you like to talk about today, Nealy?” Liz asked. “Tell me what bothers you the most.”
“It all runs together. I guess what bothers me more than anything is the relationship I have with my children. I'm having a hard time talking about my feelings. Guilt is a terrible thing, but then so are jealousy and fear. How can a mother feel guilt, jealousy, and fear when it comes to her children?”
“Let's find out. Let's go back to the night you left your home in Virginia with Emmie in that old truck. Or, would you rather start with Emmie's father and how you felt about him?”
Nealy twisted the wedding ring on her finger. “I was very young and I knew so little about love and relationships. What I did know was when Dillon smiled at me, my whole body just melted. He was so kind and so gentle with me. I think he loved me. At least he said he did. At the time, I believed him because I needed to believe it. He wrote the most beautiful poetry. We would lie in the straw, and he'd read it to me. He'd hold my hand while he was reading to me. Sometimes he would lean over and kiss my cheek or my neck. I lived for those stolen hours late at night. It was all so wonderful until I realized I was pregnant. It took me days to get up the courage to tell him and when I did . . .”
Hatch looked down at his watch to calculate the time difference between Singapore and Kentucky: eleven hours. It was eight o'clock in the morning here. Back home, Nealy would still be up. He missed her. It was that simple.
“Anything exciting happen?” Spence asked as he flopped down on the chair Hatch had just vacated. Hatch stared at the investigator, who looked fresh from the shower, a cup of coffee in his hand. He, too, was dressed in walking shorts, white tee shirt, and docksiders. He looked like all the other tourists visiting this colorful country.
“They're going shopping this morning to buy pots and pans. I'm assuming to the nearest bazaar. Then they're going to cook. Willow is a five-star chef. Being on the run the way she has been means she hasn't been cooking much. That's just a guess on my part. I'm going to shower, call my wife, and catch a few hours' sleep. You're the tail since she doesn't know you. Call my villa if anything happens. Anything at all that you think is out of the ordinary. I'm going to call the local authorities to see if I have the go-ahead to take her into custody as soon as I get back to the villa.
“No one is stirring inside or outside, so I guess they're both still sleeping. See you in a little while. She's slick, Spence, so keep your eyes peeled.”
“Will do,” the investigator said as he rustled the newspaper he'd picked up at the front desk. Hatch waved as he followed Cal down the path to the main lobby, where he also picked up a copy of the previous day's
New York Times.
New York Times.
Forty minutes later, water dripping from his body, Hatch wrapped a towel around his middle and padded out onto his private walled patio. A silver service of coffee waited for him, along with a plate of sticky rice cakes that dripped honey. He poured with one hand while his other hand worked the phone to place a call to Nealy. He didn't realize how tense he was until he heard her voice. He relaxed immediately.
“Hi, honey, how's it going back home? God, I miss you. Tell me everything that's going on, and then tell me you miss me as much as I miss you.” He listened, grinning as Nealy talked to him.
They talked for twenty minutes.
He hated to break the connection but it was imperative he get some much-needed sleep. The jet lag he'd experienced yesterday was still with him to some degree. “Love you,” he said happily before he hung up the phone. He walked into the villa to replace the portable phone in the cradle. The sofa beckoned.
His last conscious thought before drifting into sleep on the colorful rattan sofa was that he hoped all would go well with Willow and he could be on a plane headed back home first thing in the morning.
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Outside the orchid-lined path that led to Hatch's villa, Willow crouched low among the dense flowering shrubbery. She'd almost had a heart attack when she'd walked into the lobby to get the morning paper. She'd stepped back into a cluster of palms in heavy clay pots the moment she saw Hatch, just in time to avoid being seen. She waited, then followed him to the villa two doors down from her own. Her eyes narrowed to slits as she watched the big man stretch out on the sofa.
Hatch Littletree would not have come halfway around the world alone. That had to mean there were others watching her. They must have followed Zack. Her mind raced as she flew back to her villa, where Zack was pouring coffee into two cups. She put her finger to her lips to indicate silence as she quickly scribbled a note. They conversed for several minutes by writing notes back and forth.
The alarm she saw on Zack's face worried Willow. In the short time she'd known Zack, she'd come to love the old man, whom she thought of as her surrogate father. She wanted no harm to come to him.
I'm going to go with Plan B,
she scribbled. She continued to write.
We're going to take our coffee out to the patio and talk. Just follow my lead and go along with anything I say. You know where to meet up with me at some point. There's someone out there listening and watching. Don't say anything you will regret later. You and Stella are here on a vacation. That's the bottom line.
I'm going to go with Plan B,
she scribbled. She continued to write.
We're going to take our coffee out to the patio and talk. Just follow my lead and go along with anything I say. You know where to meet up with me at some point. There's someone out there listening and watching. Don't say anything you will regret later. You and Stella are here on a vacation. That's the bottom line.
Willow's voice was cheerful when she carried the coffee service out to the patio. “Isn't it a glorious day, Zack? The flowers smell heavenly. This is really Paradise as far as I'm concerned. I think we should stay here forever. I'm sorry you aren't feeling well this morning. I bet it was that rich dinner we had last evening. Well, you won't have to worry about that from now on. I'm going to be doing the cooking from here on in as soon as I get some pots and pans. I think I'll leave now before it gets too hot. I want you to sit here in the shade and read the paper. When I get back, you can tell me everything that's in it so I won't have to read it.”
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