David closed his eyes. Poor Liz. “Are we done here?”
Zeke nodded. “I’ll give you a ride. I told Yetta I’d pick her up and run her home, but I thought you should know what’s going on.”
“Thanks.”
Before exiting the office, Zeke paused. He looked at David and said, his tone severe, “This family has been through hell the past couple of years. I don’t know what you have planned, but if you’re heading back East, then do the right thing and make a clean break now. Stringing Liz along while you figure out whether you’re David Baines or Paul McAffee isn’t going to do her any favors.”
A clean break. The words stuck with David during the drive to Henderson. He honestly had no idea what to do, where to go, how to start again. Staying alive and living in the shadows had been his main focus for four years. Now he was free to go anywhere, reclaim his past, his credentials, his life. But rebuilding his career in the research field would take an incredible amount of effort. Years, months, weeks of 24/7 focus. The kind of dedication that already had cost him one family. Would the same thing happen if he asked Liz to join him back East?
Maybe I should stay here, he thought. And do what? Rebuild my gardening business?
The truth was obvious. What did he have to offer Liz? Not a damn thing.
Liz awoke with a momentary sense of confusion. She thought for a few seconds that she was back in Iraq in the village where she’d stayed immediately after her release from the hospital. She ached all over. Her feet, her ribs, she could barely turn her neck.
Groaning, she sat up and as she became fully awake, images from the past twenty-four hours filled her consciousness. The desert. David. The rescue.
She let out a long, heartfelt sigh. Alexa had picked her up at the hospital and brought her straight home. Her mother had prepared a hot bath with scented oils that had helped her relax. A soothing cup of herbal tea and she’d been off to la-la land.
She glanced at her bedside clock. Three hours. Not long enough, but something had woken her up. She wasn’t sure what, but she couldn’t go back to sleep. An uneasiness seemed to hum in her veins. Post-traumatic stress again? she wondered.
Her lightweight robe was lying across the foot of her bed. She pulled it over her Chicks Rule T-shirt and cotton boxers. The house was quiet, but she could feel the presence of her roommates down the hall. Maybe Alexa and Mom are still here, too, she thought, but Liz knew she wasn’t ready to face them. She needed a minute alone, with Prisha.
She got out of bed and, barefoot, walked to the makeshift desk in the corner of the room. She sat down in the chair stiffly, like an old woman. Her mailbox had fourteen new messages. Most were jokes from Grace.
She quickly scrolled down until she spotted a familiar name. Jyoti.
Her finger shook as she double-clicked on the message.
My dear good friend,
What I am about to write is going to come as a great shock and even greater disappointment, I fear, but there is no way to avoid the pain this news is going to inflict. Formal word of your intention to adopt Prisha arrived last week. As is our legal obligation, we notified Prisha’s mother of your wish.
Liz braced herself for what she sensed was coming.
The young woman came to visit her child and after much weeping and prayer announced to all that she couldn’t bear to give up Prisha to be raised in a foreign land.
Liz had read of this kind of thing happening. Online adoption sites contained horror stories of people who’d adopted only to have the child they’d come to love ripped from their arms.
I tried to explain that Prisha needed the medical care that you were arranging in the United States. The woman vowed to find medical help nearby. As you know, the government goes to great lengths to keep families together when possible. Representatives contacted me personally to say that a doctor in Delhi has volunteered to do the surgery on Prisha.
Liz reread the passage twice, trying to make sense of the words. “Why now? Where were these people when I couldn’t even get a pediatrician to examine her?”
Her question was answered a few lines down.
It seems that after Prisha’s birth, her mother tried to take her own life and needed to be hospitalized. While undergoing treatment for depression, she met a doctor who took pity on her and has agreed to perform the surgery free of charge.
“Free of charge?” Liz croaked. How could she compete with free?
Forgive me for saying so, but it’s quite possible he plans to run for political office soon. Maybe he feels Prisha’s story would be good news. But none of that really matters. Prisha will get the help she needs, and I truly am happy that this darling child will be taken care of.
Despite her pain, Liz understood. And agreed.
I’m providing a link to the doctor’s new Web site that is already up and running. He’s going to do the surgery as soon as possible, and people will be able to follow Prisha’s progress and contribute money to her recovery. I hope you can take comfort in knowing that you were the catalyst that united mother and daughter.
Liz moved the cursor over the highlighted blue letters but couldn’t bring herself to touch the button. Her heart felt bruised and bleeding. To see her precious face and know that she hadn’t even been able to say goodbye was too much to take in.
Prisha, the courageous baby girl—a fighter, just like Liz—would never make the trip from India to live in this house that Liz had bought purposely to provide a home for her. She’d never do any of the things Liz had imagined them doing together.
Liz pushed her laptop out of the way and dropped her head on the desk. “No,” she softly cried. “This just can’t be.”
The sobs that rolled up and out of her mouth seemed to start in the bottom of her soul. Questions careened through her mind. What if this doctor lost interest after the election? What if the mother’s depression returned or she couldn’t care for Prisha?
A sense of helplessness—hopelessness—engulfed her. Even the voice that said this was a good thing—Prisha would know her mother’s love and have a nice life in India—was drowned out by the sad truth that Liz had lost her baby.
A light tap at her door made her look up. “Not now.”
The door opened anyway. The head that popped in wasn’t her mother’s. “David,” she cried, stumbling to her feet. Unsteady as a drunk, she crashed into his open arms.
She wept freely, knowing he understood what it meant to lose a child that you loved. Blubbering, she tried to explain. “P-Prisha is gone. H-her real mother came back.”
“I know, sweetheart.”
Liz shook her head. “No. How?”
He put his hand in her hair and drew her head against his chest. “Someone from India called to see how you were taking the news. They were worried about you.”
Her mother had known when Liz arrived home. That explained the profound sadness she’d read in Yetta’s eyes. Liz had been too exhausted to give anything around her much thought, but she’d picked up on the fact that something was amiss.
“The woman who called wasn’t able to talk for long because of the cost. Yetta was under the impression you hadn’t discussed this with your sisters and she wasn’t sure what to say or why you’d chosen to keep this to yourself. Is it because of what happened to you in Iraq?”
Liz had kept Prisha a secret partly because she was afraid something might go wrong in the adoption process. She’d been warned time and again about how unpredictable foreign adoptions could be. She hadn’t wanted to disappoint her family—again. She’d already failed them where her father was concerned.
“I should have told them, but I knew they’d want to help. Grace would have given me the money from her trust fund in a heartbeat, but then I would have felt that Prisha was partly hers. I was selfish. I wanted her all to myself. And now, I’m paying for that.”
He rocked her back and forth as a father might a little child. “Liz, this isn’t your fault. It’s mine.”
She pushed back to fac
e him. “What do you mean?”
“Think about your prophecy. A man of darkness. Me. If you hadn’t rescued me, Prisha might still be at the ashram, waiting for you to adopt her.”
Liz wanted to deny the validity of his words, but she couldn’t. She’d thought the same thing just before he walked in. If she hadn’t invited him to the wedding…no, she refused to believe that her life would have been better if David had died in the fire that consumed his home.
“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” he said, standing up. “Everything I’ve touched in my life, I’ve ruined. My grandmother used to call me a hard-luck kid. We’ve only known each other a few weeks and I’ve managed to upset your whole life. You narrowly escaped death in the desert. Your car is totaled and now the child you love is gone. I’m bad news for those who mean the most to me.” He looked at her. “That’s why I’m leaving.”
She wasn’t surprised by his statement. She’d known that once he was free of the threat Ray Cross posed, David would want to reclaim his old life. Who wouldn’t choose being a respected chemist over peddling cacti? “When?”
“Soon. Your mother suggested I call your cousin—the one who’s a long-haul trucker and see if I could catch a ride on one of his transports. He’s got one leaving at midnight for Tennessee. That’s close enough for me.”
“You’re going home.”
“I have no idea where that is. Hell, I’m not even sure I know what that word means. But I can’t stay here.”
She knew she should try to stop him. He meant more to her than any man she’d ever known. He’d brought joy and beauty into her life, too, but what if he was right? What if in saving David, she’d made a fatal choice that she would have to live with for the rest of her life? What if Prisha’s surgery turned out to be nothing more than a publicity stunt? If Prisha died, Liz knew she’d never be able to forgive herself—or David.
Chapter 18
Two weeks had passed since David had hitched a ride on an eastbound 18-wheeler. Liz’s tears had long since dried. Was she happy about the situation? No. But life did go on. Routines reappeared.
Like the weekly roundtable of sisters.
Liz, who hadn’t slept a full eight hours since her desert escapade, usually arrived at her mother’s early to talk to Yetta for a few minutes before Kate and Alexa joined them.
“Katherine told me your teas have become a hot item at several local markets,” her mother said once they were both seated at the table.
The kitchen smelled familiar and reassuring. Liz stirred the liquid in her cup. “I know, it’s really weird how this sorta took off. I set up a display in this trendy little market near Romantique the day after David left and I’ve had to restock it every other day. I can barely keep up production, which is why I’m looking for a place to rent. I’ve outgrown my garage. Especially if Reezira and Lydia are going to work for me.”
Work had been her salvation. She’d lost so much so fast, she probably would have lost her mind, too, if her roommates and her sister hadn’t conspired to keep her busy. Jo, Kate’s partner, had been the first to call, needing more tea. Then the market had placed a triple order. And Crissy had appeared with a request for several herbal teas she suddenly couldn’t live without.
Instead of running away from her pain—as she always had in the past—Liz was working through it. But one thing was still bothering her.
“Mom, it hit me last night that my prophecy was wrong.” Yetta looked up from the newspaper Liz had brought in with her. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I saved David, the man of shadows, and lost Prisha, the child of light, but now I don’t have either one of them in my life. Is that how it was supposed to work?”
Yetta rocked back in her chair and sighed. “That’s a very good question. But are you sure you saved David? It seems to me that you both saved each other. That’s what people who love each other do. Your father rescued me from becoming a dried-up old maid—you’d be surprised how many boys were put off by my ability to see beyond their smart suits and nice manners. And I kept Kingston grounded. If not for me, he’d have drifted around like…well, like his brother.”
“I never would have been in that danger if not for David.”
“And the bad man wouldn’t have known where to find David if not for you.”
Liz’s mouth dropped open. She’d forgotten about that. “Does that matter? I mean, we saved each other on the desert, but I still lost Prisha.” And David.
Yetta leaned over and took Liz’s hand. “Prisha came into your life at a time when you desperately needed hope. She gave you that. When you came back from India, I remember thinking that I’d never seen you so focused and driven. And happy.”
“But if I was never meant to save her then—”
“Darling girl, you did save her. You reunited her with her family. You gave her mother time to deal with whatever was keeping her from embracing her daughter wholeheartedly. And because of your interest in adopting Prisha, you motivated her family to take action. Isn’t that something to celebrate?”
Liz had actually come to the same conclusion herself, but hearing her mother say so out loud drove home the point. She was happy for Prisha. According to Jyoti, Prisha’s mother appeared to be trying to make up for the time she’d missed in her daughter’s life.
The sound of a car in the driveway caught Liz’s attention. She stood up and walked to the window. Alexa, who was strolling up the driveway, paused to embrace Kate, who had returned from her honeymoon a few days ago, but had been so busy with Maya, Jo and Romantique that Liz had barely seen her.
And she looked absolutely glowing.
I know how that feels, she thought with just the tiniest pang of envy. She’d felt the same all-encompassing joy with David, and she wanted it back. But how could she reclaim that feeling when she didn’t know where—or who—he was.
She turned to look at her mother, who was grinning. “If you need our help, all you have do is ask,” Yetta said. “Your sisters are a tremendous resource. Especially Grace.”
“She’s in Detroit. What can she do?”
“She’s engaged to a gadjo cop. And if Nikolai can’t help us, I’m sure Ezekiel will.”
“Speaking of Zeke, I haven’t seen him around here lately. Did you two break up?”
“One has to be going steady to break up, doesn’t one?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “His daughter just gave birth to her first child. I encouraged him to go to California to be with her and try to make peace with the past. As Katherine will attest, moving forward is a lot easier if you’re not struggling with bonds of guilt and remorse that keep pulling you backward.”
Liz opened the door for her sisters and hugged them both. They looked a bit surprised by her display of affection, but neither said anything. After giving Kate a chance to relate the highlights of her honeymoon in Tahiti, Liz got down to business.
“Okay, here’s what I need. First, I’m—”
Kate interrupted. “Wait. Stop. Did I miss something? You’re not the sister who asks for help.”
Alexa waved the question away. “That was before she nearly died on the desert after the madman totaled her car and tried to kill her boyfriend.”
Kate’s eyes went wide and she looked at Yetta. “Mom, tell Alexa to quit teasing. What really happened while I was gone?”
Yetta looked at all three girls then, with a low chuckle, sat down. “You see, this madman intent on revenge kidnapped your sister and…”
Liz tuned out the story. She had more important things on her mind than yesterday’s news—like how to find David and convince him that he had a life waiting for him here in Las Vegas. A life with her.
ALTHOUGH IT HAD BEEN two weeks since David left Nevada, he’d put off contacting his ex-wife. He’d passed by Kay’s house, which was right next door to the home he’d owned when they were married, a dozen times, but had yet to figure out a way to gracefully return from the dead.
He’d finally decided to use an intermedi
ary—Kay’s husband, Brent. Once he’d cleared up the matter of his official death certificate, he faxed a copy to Brent at his office. Brent had called back almost immediately.
Shock and disbelief were Brent’s first response, followed by concern for his wife. “Kay is pregnant,” the man blurted out after David reassured him this wasn’t some kind of sick joke.
“I drove past the house yesterday. She was putting a baby in the back of an SUV. She didn’t look pregnant.”
The admission that David had been in the old neighborhood apparently gave Brent pause, but he quickly added, “Just barely. A total surprise. We had to have help conceiving B.J., um, Brent, Junior. He just turned nine months. The older kids adore him. We haven’t even told them about the new baby. Just in case…well, you know the first trimester can be tricky.” His voice trailed off as if realizing that his assumption that David knew anything about pregnancies might be flawed.
“Then it’s a good thing I notified you, instead of just knocking on Kay’s door one day, right?”
“Yes,” said the man who’d been David’s neighbor for nearly eight years. For six of those years, Brent had been married to a woman who’d also worked in government. One day, the wife drove off never to return. Brent had kept the house; she’d remarried a few months after the divorce was final.
“Look, I don’t want to cause problems, Brent. I’m just trying to get my bearings. I know I left Kay holding the bag after the fire at the lab, and I want to apologize. A very wise woman told me that moving forward is a lot easier if you’re not carrying the full weight of your mistakes with you.”
“Do you think apologizing is going to make up for the hell she went through after the explosion?”
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