Читать книгу Longwalker's Child - Debra Webb - Страница 10

Gray caught Lauren Whitmore just before she hit the floor. He held her limp body in his arms and dropped down to his knees.

God in Heaven, what am I supposed to do now?

“Mommy!” a shrill voice screamed.

Gray jerked his head up at the terrified sound. What he saw sucked the air right out of his lungs.

A little girl stood stock-still in the middle of the entrance hall. The terror in her eyes far exceeded what he had heard in her voice. Big, tear-filled eyes stared back at him…gray eyes. Black hair draped her trembling shoulders and fell all the way to her waist. Hair so black it looked blue wherever the light reflected against it.

The drumming of Gray’s heart blocked all other sound. An emotion so foreign he couldn’t possibly hope to identify it rushed through him.

This was his child.

Gray didn’t need a test. He couldn’t have denied this child even if he had wanted to. This was why Lauren Whitmore’s eyes had widened so when he had first appeared at her door this morning. Gray had assumed she had recognized him by old photographs Sharon had left behind, but that wasn’t the case at all.

Lauren Whitmore had seen Sarah in him.

“What’s wrong with my mommy?”

The question jerked Gray from his intense reverie. He looked from the frightened child to the woman in his arms and relaxed the overtight hold he’d only just realized he had on Lauren. She was out cold.

“I don’t know,” he said, and then lifted his gaze back to the child’s. She watched him with a wary but expectant gaze. “We were talking and she passed out.”

The little girl sniffed and eased closer. “Mommy says if nobody’s home ’cept me when she gets sick, I should call 911 like she showed me.” She gave him another wary look as she took one more small step closer.

Gray exhaled heavily. He looked down at Lauren Whitmore, who still hadn’t moved a muscle. He checked her pulse at the side of her throat. “Well, she’s breathing and her pulse is strong and steady.” He looked back at the child, hoping to appease her. “I don’t think we need to call 911, Sarah.”

The child’s eyes grew wide at his use of her name. “How’d you know my name? You’re a stranger.”

Holding Lauren against his chest, he stuck out his free hand. “Gray Longwalker.”

Sarah stared at his outstretched hand, her dark eyebrows knit in worry. “Are you a friend of my mommy’s?”

Gray hesitated, then nodded. It was a flat-out lie, but he knew the child needed reassuring.

Sarah didn’t take his hand. “Are you gonna help my mommy, mister?”

“Just call me Gray,” he offered, letting his hand drop.

Sarah didn’t respond, she simply stood there and stared at him—clearly fearful of what might happen.

“How about we lay your mom down somewhere and then I’ll call her doctor? She has a doctor, doesn’t she?”

The child nodded and gestured for Gray to follow her down the hall. Gray took off his Stetson, tossing it on the hall table. He adjusted his hold on Lauren and got to his feet. He followed Sarah to the far end of the hall, into a darkened bedroom. She turned on the bedside lamp and climbed onto the bed. Silently she waited while Gray laid Lauren beside her.

“Dr. Bill’s number is by the phone in the kitchen,” she said quietly, never taking her eyes from the still form next to her.

“I’ll go call, then.”

Sarah didn’t answer or even look up. She caressed Lauren’s cheek with small, trembling fingers.

Gray forced the haunting image from his mind as he retraced his steps down the hall until he found the dining room. He skirted the already-set table and passed through an open doorway into the kitchen. After locating the phone, he punched in the posted number for Dr. Bill Prescott. Gray didn’t recognize the name, obviously another newcomer to Thatcher.

Gray inhaled the mouthwatering aroma that filled the kitchen. His stomach rumbled. How long had it been since he’d had a home-cooked meal? Too long to remember, he thought with uncharacteristic longing.

While he listened to the receptionist’s greeting, Gray turned the oven off. Whatever Lauren Whitmore had on tonight’s menu would have to wait. He noticed the open medicine bottle by the sink and picked it up to read the label.

Gray gave the receptionist a quick summary of what had taken place. After a brief wait on hold, a man answered and identified himself as the doctor.

“Tell me exactly what happened,” Prescott ordered, concern in his voice.

“One minute we were talking and the next she was out like a light.” Gray rotated the bottle in his hand to verify the name when the doctor asked about medication. “Yes, the open bottle was next to the sink, but I have no idea if she took a tablet.”

“This is the first episode Lauren has had in quite some time,” Prescott said, and then hesitated as if considering the best course of action. “She’ll sleep for several hours. When she wakes up she’ll be weak, and the pain will likely come again. Just keep her comfortable and have her call me as soon as she’s up and around again. I can come by tonight if she needs me.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, what’s wrong with her?” Gray ventured, and then quickly added, “I haven’t known her very long.”

There was a long pause before Prescott responded. “She has cluster headaches,” he finally explained. “They’re similar to migraines, but the cluster effect makes them more intense. She doesn’t have them often anymore, but when they strike they’re debilitating. It’s not as bad as it sounds, Mr…. what did you say your name was?”

“Longwalker. Gray Longwalker.”

“Mr. Longwalker, Lauren’s headaches appear to be mainly related to stress. As long as she stays clear of any major stress she doesn’t have any problems. I have no idea of your relationship with Lauren, but I sincerely hope you won’t let this incident color your opinion of her. Lauren’s a terrific young woman. Obviously, though, there’s something stressful going on in her life right now.”

Gray assured the doctor he would have Lauren call him. He pushed the off button and placed the cordless receiver back in its cradle. He swallowed hard as he considered Dr. Prescott’s words.

Stress.

He had done this to Lauren Whitmore. Gray shook off the regret and forced away the guilt. The woman had chosen to come between him and his child. She had, in effect, brought this particular stress upon herself, he rationalized, but it didn’t relieve the guilt nagging at him.

When Gray returned to the bedroom, Sarah sat in the exact same place he had left her, still stroking Lauren’s cheek. Gray eased down on the edge of the bed feeling sorely out of place in the role of caretaker to anyone but himself.

“Is my mommy gonna be okay?” She looked up at Gray with a worried gaze that squeezed his heart.

“Yes.” He smiled and awkwardly patted her shoulder. “She’ll sleep for a while, but the doctor says she’s going to be fine.” He quashed the renewed rush of guilt that crowded his chest.

“Good.” Sarah frowned then, her whole face puckered in the process. “I don’t want my new mommy to go to Heaven like my old mommy did.”

Gray swallowed back the emotion that pushed up into his throat. He’d never in his life been an emotional man. He didn’t quite understand his reaction. Maybe he was tired from the trip and all the anger he had felt at life these past two days.

“Don’t worry, Sarah. She’ll be fine.”

“You promise?” She stared up at him, tears brimming.

“I promise,” he said, his voice strained, almost harsh.

Gray had wished for many things since he had learned of his child’s existence, not the least of which was the blackest curse he knew to fall upon the person’s head responsible for trying to keep his child from him.

Right now, though, he prayed with his entire being that Lauren Whitmore would be okay.

For Sarah’s sake.

LAUREN DRIFTED somewhere between asleep and awake well before her eyes would obey the command to open. Wherever she was, darkness surrounded her. No glimmer of light shone through her closed lids. She could hear something…the sound vaguely familiar.

She tried to reach out, to feel and maybe identify her surroundings despite the darkness, but her arms were so heavy that she couldn’t move. Her head hurt.

The sound was louder now.

Water.

Water was filling the car. Lauren was trapped. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe…

Fear crowded her throat and robbed her of rational thought. She struggled against the seat belt, but couldn’t quite free herself. The water continued to rise around her.

Air…she needed air.

Hold your breath, Lauren, hold your breath. Kevin… She reached for him…

Lauren sat straight up in bed, gasping for air.

A dream. It was only a dream, she realized. The accident was a long time ago. It was over now. She was safe.

Weak as a kitten she cradled her head in her hands and willed the lingering remnants of pain to retreat. She massaged her forehead and then pressed the tips of her fingers against her temples in an effort to keep the raging beast at bay.

Slowly, very slowly, the perception of time and place returned.

She was home. And she was okay.

Just a headache and a nightmare. It had been a long time since she’d had either. Not since Sharon’s death.

She should get up and check on Sarah….

The memory of what had taken place just prior to her blackout slammed into Lauren’s head. She threw back the coverlet, dropped her feet to the floor and forced herself to stand. A wave of nausea washed over her when she took a step, but she ignored it and forced another step and then another after that.

She had to find Sarah.

Lauren had no idea how long she had been out. Longwalker could have taken Sarah anywhere by now. She swallowed back the metallic taste of fear. Goose bumps skittered across her skin as adrenaline surged through her body, giving her the strength she needed to stagger across the room.

Once in the dark hall, her hopes plummeted. The house was entirely too quiet and dark.

No playing-child noises. No television sounds. Nothing.

Lauren moved down the hall, her heart racing, urging her to hurry. She tried to breathe more slowly, but failed. Her hold on composure thin at best, she kept one shaky hand against the wall for balance.

God…Sarah has to be here. She just has to be here.

Lauren blinked back the tears threatening and tried to recall the details of Longwalker’s truck. The police would need that information. She frowned with the effort of concentration. Her head felt like a bomb that had already exploded once and was prepared to do so again.

Think, Lauren, think. Black, she knew it had been black and new looking. But that’s all she remembered.

She should never have opened the door. Never have allowed him inside. Why hadn’t she called the sheriff?

Now he had Sarah.

Oh, God. How would she ever find her? If Gray Longwalker disappeared again, she’d never find Sarah.

The night’s full moon had pitched the dimly lit living room into long shadows. The television taunted her with its black screen. Panic rushed anew through Lauren then.

They were gone.

She pivoted unsteadily and propelled herself in the direction of the kitchen. She had to call the police now.

And Don. She should call Don, too.

Lauren banged her hip against the dining table as she passed, a chair clattered to the floor behind her. She knew she would have a huge bruise by morning, but at the moment she didn’t feel the discomfort. She clenched her teeth and refused to give in to the storm steadily building inside her head.

Lauren snatched the phone from its cradle and sagged against the wall. She squeezed her eyes shut at the fierce stab of pain that knifed through the right side of her skull.

The light…the overhead light was so bright. Had she turned it on? She didn’t remember.

Unable to stand any longer, Lauren slid down the wall to the floor. A sob tore past her lips at the next rush of pain and she clenched her teeth to prevent the scream that wanted to follow. Biological parents stole their children back from adoptive parents all the time. Ultimately the law was on the side of the matching DNA. Getting Sarah back would be next to impossible.

Lauren had to make that call—now—before she lost herself to the pain. She clutched the receiver and forced her eyes open. The numbers on the keypad blurred. She blinked and tried again to focus. The overhead fluorescent light sent black spots floating before her bleary vision. She couldn’t do it.

Another sob escaped her as she momentarily yielded to the anguish. “No,” she whispered hoarsely. Lauren sucked in a ragged breath and peered at the numbers through the haze of pain. She had to do it. She had to call.

Seemingly out of nowhere, strong fingers grasped her arm. Lauren screamed and tried to jerk free of the powerful hand holding her so firmly. Her heart thundered in her chest. The beast inside her skull roared, breaking the fragile barrier between her and the pain.

“What are you doing?” a deep, raspy voice demanded.

Ignoring the torturous light, Lauren looked up.

Him. It was him. Gray Longwalker was still here.

“Where’s Sarah?” she choked out, her throat almost closed with fear and anguish.

If he was here, then…Sarah must still be here, too. Lauren clutched the cordless receiver and struggled to get to her feet. Her stomach churned violently, followed so closely by a stab of agony that she almost blacked out. She moaned despite her best efforts not to.

She sank back to the floor and squeezed her eyes shut. God, it hurt so badly she could hardly draw in a breath. “Sarah,” she murmured.

“Sarah is asleep in her room,” Longwalker said quietly, as if he knew not to speak too loudly.

But how could he know?

Lauren forced her eyes open to see his face, and immediately regretted doing so. The light inflicted more of its pain. Could he be telling her the truth? She had to be certain. She had to see Sarah with her own eyes. She commanded her body to move…but nothing happened.

“What can I do to help?” He knelt beside her now. The slightest hint of concern in his voice.

“The light,” Lauren whispered. “Please turn off the light.”

The light was out before she realized he had even moved.

“Do you need the medicine on the counter? Your doctor asked if you’d taken it.”

His words registered in her brain, but didn’t quite make sense. Had he called her doctor? Why would he do that for her? Why hadn’t he taken Sarah and gotten as far away as he could before Lauren regained consciousness? Maybe he still intended to do just that.

“Sarah…I have to go to her,” Lauren whispered as she waged a war with her unwilling body to stand. She opened her eyes, immensely thankful for the answering darkness.

“Let me help you.” His strong arm slid around her waist, and he lifted Lauren to her feet with ease.

Why would he help her? Suspicious, Lauren jerked free of his grasp, almost falling as another wave of pain slashed through her. The silent figure towering over her steadied her with sure hands.

“Don’t touch me,” she warned and backed away, the wall stopped her.

“It’s okay, I won’t touch you.”

Lauren couldn’t see his eyes in the dark room. It was impossible to guess what he might be thinking. She didn’t care. She only knew that she had to get to Sarah.

She drew in a deep breath and focused on blocking out the pain. She got a slight measure of temporary relief.

Still holding the phone, Lauren groped her way along the wall for balance as she moved down the dark hall toward Sarah’s room. Uninvited, Gray followed.

When Lauren finally reached Sarah’s door and opened it, the dim night-light gave off enough illumination for her to see that her child was, as he had said, tucked safely into bed. Sarah slept soundly, totally unaware of the threat that lurked just outside her room.

And what had he told Sarah while Lauren had lain unconscious?

She backed out of Sarah’s room and quietly closed the door. Lauren turned to the man waiting in the darkness behind her, his silent presence more unnerving than the pain radiating beneath her scalp.

“If you said anything to upset her—”

“I told her I was a friend, nothing more,” he said, his voice cautious, unreadable. “You should take more of your medication and lie back down. I’ll help you. Dr. Prescott said—”

“I want you to leave, now,” Lauren said with as much bravado as she could muster. How dare he speak with her personal physician. Had he asked questions about her? If he had, surely Bill hadn’t answered. Longwalker already knew more about her than she wanted him to know—she wasn’t about to tell him anything else. He would no doubt look for anything to use against her in the custody battle.

“I’m not leaving,” he stated flatly. “You’re in no condition to be left alone with a child to care for.”

The sudden blast of outrage Lauren felt almost cloaked the fierce pain. “I appreciate that you stayed,” she said, her voice strained, “but I have real friends I can call for help, Mr. Longwalker.”

“You’d better call someone, then, because I’m not leaving until you do.”

Lauren held her anger in check, knowing the emotion would ultimately only add to her misery. Somehow she had to stay in control until she could get this man out of her house. There was no way of knowing why he had decided to be nice to her. Or why he hadn’t taken Sarah and gotten as far away as possible. But she wasn’t about to risk a sudden change of heart. Lauren concentrated on the task of locating the correct numbers without the aid of sight. Much calmer than before, she was able to visualize mentally their location and punch the necessary numbers without much trouble.

Rosemary, Lauren’s friend and assistant, answered after the second ring. “It’s Lauren,” she said without preamble. “I need you to come over and—” she glanced up at the brooding figure next to her “—stay with me tonight.” Rosemary agreed without hesitation, Lauren thanked her and disconnected.

“Satisfied?” Her breathing had become shallow with the increasing difficulty of keeping the mounting pain at bay.

“All right,” he said roughly and turned away.

Relieved, Lauren followed him toward the front of the house. Gray snatched his hat off the hall table, opened the door and turned back to face her. A golden glow pooled around him from the porch light. Lauren could see the rigid set of his shoulders, the grim line of his mouth. Her heart thudded in response, sending a quickening of panic through her weary body, which only served to add to her suffering.

“I will be back,” he warned.

“You know what my attorney said,” she argued, “you have to wait for the test results.”

His taunting smile was slow, bitter, involving only one corner of his mouth. “I don’t need a test and you know it. Sarah is my child and I will be back.”

Lauren braced herself against the wall for support. She was close to losing control again. “Why don’t you go back to wherever you came from and leave us alone?” She hated the desperate sound in her voice, hated her weakness in front of this man.

“Get used to it, Ms. Whitmore. I’m not going anywhere.” He turned and disappeared into the dark night without a backward glance.

Lauren closed and locked the door behind him. Rosemary had a key. She could let herself in when she arrived. Lauren pressed her forehead against the hard surface of the door and slowly yielded to the agony that would be postponed no longer.

The threat of Gray Longwalker would have to be shoved to the back burner until tomorrow or maybe even the day after. Right now Lauren had to deal with the pain. She sank to the floor and curled into a ball, surrendering to the pain and the blackness that would soon follow.

Gray Longwalker would just have to wait his turn to make her life unbearable.

SHE WAS DOING the right thing, Lauren told herself two days later when she took Sarah to the lab appointment Don had scheduled. It was a necessary evil that should have been done yesterday, but the bout of headaches had kept Lauren in bed for nearly forty-eight hours. This morning was the first time she had been out of the house since the episode with Longwalker. She forced the memory away. She didn’t want to think about that right now. She wanted this business over.

Sarah held Lauren’s hand as they followed the lab technician down the long, white corridor. Lauren could almost hear the pounding of her own heart; the sound seemed to echo in the stifling silence around them. The steady tap of her low-heeled pumps countered the squeak of the lab tech’s rubber-soled shoes against the polished tile floor. Both kept time with the pounding in her chest. I’m doing the right thing, Lauren told herself once more.

She glanced down at her daughter, who was busy taking in everything she saw. Sarah hugged Leah close to her side. Lauren had dressed Sarah in her favorite pink overalls. Her long black braid hung down her back with a pink satin ribbon tied at the end. The plain white blouse looked stark against her dark skin.

Lauren shivered when Gray came immediately to mind, despite her best intentions not to think about him. This was all his fault. If Gray Longwalker had stayed away, she and Sarah wouldn’t be here right now. Lauren moistened her dry lips and swallowed hard. But he has rights, she reminded herself. She just prayed those rights didn’t allow him to take Sarah away and prevent Lauren from seeing the child again.

Frank, her boss, was nearing a cardiac episode with her work delays. An architect at the growing Dallas firm, Lauren was very lucky that Frank allowed her to work from home. He was very sympathetic to her needs. But this thing with Longwalker only made matters worse. Though he understood, Lauren knew the last few days had put him seriously behind. The rest of the world didn’t stop just because hers was crashing down around her. Contractors needed their new specs for design changes, clients wanted their architectural drawings now. No one wanted to wait. Except Lauren. She wanted time to stop right now, before fate tore her heart out yet again.

The lab tech she and Sarah followed down the endless corridor would take the necessary blood and saliva samples for the DNA test.

Lauren shuddered inwardly but smiled down at Sarah’s upturned face. She had to be strong. She had to. “It’ll be okay, sweetie,” she assured her quietly. Sarah blinked and managed a hesitant smile.

“Right in here, Ms. Whitmore,” the lab tech announced and gestured toward an open door.

“Thank you,” Lauren said automatically, though she felt far from thankful. Every instinct told her to grab Sarah and run. Her stomach twisted itself into a thousand knots as she led her innocent, unsuspecting child into the small room. Sarah had no way of knowing that what was about to happen would forever change her life.

Lauren had struggled with the decision the entire journey to Dallas. If she opted not to submit Sarah to the test, Gray would no doubt make a legal move. By taking the test, Lauren had a couple of weeks to figure out some way to fight him. Two weeks, three tops. It was no time at all.

“You may hold Sarah in your lap if you’d like,” the tech suggested, nodding toward the beige molded-plastic chair against the wall.

Numbly, Lauren sat down and pulled Sarah onto her lap. She pressed a kiss to the top of her head and gave her a hug. Her chest ached with the fierce pounding of her heart.

“Mommy, if I’m a good girl, do I get a present?” Sarah looked up at Lauren, her big gray eyes hopeful.

Please let this be the right thing.

“Sure, baby,” Lauren said softly.

“And I want a Little Mermaid Band-Aid,” Sarah piped up.

“I think I can handle that.” The tech smiled.

Lauren fought the burn of tears behind her eyes. Even the medicinal smell of the place made her stomach churn. She had to do this. They needed the time before Gray made a move. But Lauren knew how this test would turn out.

“Now,” the tech began, “this won’t hurt a bit.”