by J. J. Keller
“I thought you were staying over?” He glanced at the people nearby. “Give us a moment.”
Their audience crept back into the dining room.
“Why are you running away again?” he growled.
Justin moved to her side and hung onto the hem of her jacket.
“I’m not running. I was going to call you.” She took Morgan’s hand, cleared her throat, and licked her lips. She loved him, enough that she’d release him. “Morgan, when I didn’t have anyone to lean on, you were there for me. You provided me with lodging, comfort and a shoulder to cry on. You obliged me by going with me to doctor visits and in helping to deliver my son. I depended on you and still do depend on you. You have always been there for me, but it was because you made a vow to Beck before he left for the military. Remember, I was there. ‘I promise to take care of Shania until you’re able to once again,’” she quoted and then sniffed. “You didn’t realize it’d be a life sentence, did you?”
* * * *
“Shania, that’s not all true.” Morgan’s mind raced trying to sort out why she was running away and in tears. What had happened? Her demeanor had changed. She stood straight as if a rod had been inserted in her back. Her pale face had a stream of tears cascading. Justin clung to her. His chest hurt because he might lose them, and he didn’t know why.
“Shh, let me finish. When I left for Briarwood I was scared. So afraid I’d fail. Fail at school and fail at taking care of Justin. Would we survive? Had I saved enough?” She half-smiled. “We are doing okay. We buy used clothing and eat cheap meals, but we’re doing okay. And do you know what?”
“No, what?” His voice came out husky with emotion. Tears dripped from her chin. He wanted to grab her and shake her into understanding their love would last forever. Whatever had happened they could work through it together.
“Even after I thought you’d married I continued to put your name as primary contact in case of emergency, because I knew you’d be there for us.” She wiped her face. “I’m letting you go. You’ve completed your obligations to Beck, Morgan Hardwick. You are free. Go marry that bitch if you want, take a cruise, because your vow has been fulfilled.”
Shania Miller, the love of his life, picked up their son and walked out the door. His entire future sizzled, fluttered and fell to the floor. This time he would run after her.
Patty slammed the door shut and grabbed his arm.
Morgan would damn well find out why she left, and then surpass speed limits to catch her.
Chairs screeched across the wooden floor as the others joined them in the foyer.
“What happened here? I was gone five minutes getting ice and came back to…”
All eyes took a keen interest in the tile floor, except his father’s.
“Dad, why did my future bride run out the door?”
“Son, I want you to know I’ll be proud to call her my daughter.” He glanced around the empty foyer. “And that boy is something else.”
“Yes, I agree. Tell me what happened.” Morgan had to find out the reason so he could make it right.
His father sighed. “That woman went into the kitchen.” He nodded toward Patty. “A few minutes later we heard caterwauling and Shania ran inside, leaving the door open. Justin calls you Daddy?”
“Yes, I’m the only male adult he’s been around. It’s natural. Besides, I am his daddy.”
Patty snickered. He glowered at her.
His father pointed his thumb at Patty. “She called your son a bastard. Shania said to call her names, but not her son. That woman did and said you didn’t love Shania. You were fulfilling your vow to Beck.” He paused and stared at Morgan. “I’m glad you didn’t marry her.” He glanced at Patty. “Now, go bring Shania and Justin home to us.”
“I will, Dad. I plan to make a half-dozen more kids with her.” He smiled.
“Morgan, she was a call girl, a whore, for Companion Connections,” Patty screamed.
Mrs. Miller gasped and started forward. Mr. Miller stopped her.
Morgan flipped his hand over and pushed down. “Not a whore. She answered calls.”
“As far as you know,” she spewed.
“I do know. Tom and I own Companion Connections. I gave her the job, and I own the house she lived in. My promise to Beck was made because I loved her. Reflecting back, I think he knew it as well. I’ll always love her. I don’t love you, Patty, and now, I don’t even like you.” Morgan switched his attention to Shania’s parents.
“Companion Connections was originally designed to help older individuals who have no family or treated their family members poorly and do not have contact with them. They need conversations. Lonely people seek companionship. Most men wish for some zing during their phone call, but they are disconnected if they get beyond a certain point. For the past three and a half years, Shania was one of the listeners for those lonely souls. She earned and saved her money. When she couldn’t continue to take distance-learning classes, she left and started attending the university full-time. I invited you here tonight to witness my engagement to Shania. I love your daughter. The past is the past, but I hope you don’t become one of those lonely people. As far as I’m concerned, what happened between you and her years ago has been buried. You’re welcome to attend the wedding.” He took a breath, wanting to get on the road. She’d probably already finished packing and would be leaving his house.
“Yes, we’ll be at the wedding,” Mr. Miller stated.
“Anything else we need to get aired?” Morgan asked.
“Go get your girl,” his father said.
Morgan pulled the door open and ran. He stopped in front of her car. The lights were on and the motor rumbled into the night. His heart tapped against his chest as fast as the thunking of the pistons.
Shania lay on the ground, unmoving. Morgan dropped beside her and gently turned her over. Blood dripped from her forehead, coating her hair.
“Shania.” He supported her shoulders, then touched his fingers to her neck. She had a pulse--a slow one, but she was alive.
A flood of outside lights flashed on and his father shouted, “Morgan, you forgot your keys.”
“Dad, call nine-one-one.” He slowly lowered her to the ground, noticing one of Justin’s boots and the yellow truck nearby.
His father’s heavy breathing arrived before he did.
“Good Lord, what has happened?” Mark knelt, pried the area round her wound, and lifted her eyelids. “We need to get her to a hospital. The injury isn’t that deep, but she’s not coming around.”
Morgan jerked open the back passenger door and shouted, “Justin?” Morgan fell against the unforgiving metal. “He’s gone. Beck. Beck took him.”
Chapter 17
Morgan paced the cold, sterile hospital corridor outside Shania’s room. Quick, long steps, ten down and twelve for the return. One of his weaknesses was waiting. He had no tolerance for delays. He glanced at the police detectives interviewing his mother and father. What the hell was taking so long? The cops needed to hunt down Beck and return Justin before Shania woke.
Patty’s foul disposition and greed had been the final straw. She probably had arranged to create a distraction allowing Beck the chance to disable Shania and grab Justin. Patty wanted to hurt him. Nobody was to blame except him―he gave Patty the chance to slander Shania. He brought the group together last night, knowing Tom was dating Patty. Idiot! She carried a grudge. Morgan’s focus always remained on Shania. His guard was down.
He inhaled, and blew out the air. The scents of the hospital--cleaning fluid, blood and starched lab coats--brought happy memories of Justin’s birth fresh into his mind. Morgan’s mind replayed the day his son was born.
* * * *
“Isn’t he beautiful, Morgan?” Shania’s sweat had matted her hair and her cheeks were red from pushing the baby out of a very large hole. He hadn’t wanted to watch. As Shania’s coach, he only had to keep her mind focused on regulated breathing. The lights were bright and mirrors w
ere everywhere. His gaze continued to return to the miracle of birth.
Morgan edited the comments running through his head and tried to calm his tumultuous stomach. “Yes, he is beautiful.”
And ringing through his mind was, he should have been my son.
“What should we call him?” She acted as if he’d continue to be a part of the child’s life. Morgan rejoiced in the fact that she wanted him to be. He’d loved her at first sight and four years later he respected her, admired her and had become friends with her. He wanted more, but did she?
“What do you think of Justin? I’ve always liked the name. It’s Latin in origin, and means upright and righteous. There was a Saint Justin who wrote the moral values of Christianity.” He smoothed the hair back from her forehead, and then touched the sprinkles of golden locks on the baby’s head as he rested, bundled in a blue blanket and tucked close to her chest.
“I like the name Justin. Justin Miller. Has a nice ring to it.” She gazed into his eyes. “I didn’t realize you were so religious.”
“Not a Bible toter, but I believe in faith, hope and love.” He sat on the edge of the bed, exhausted from the last forty-eight hours. He didn’t want to leave because he’d have to face Patty. They’d been en route to the airport heading for a vacation in Jamaica. Patty threatened to break up with him, in the airport parking lot, if he left to go to “that woman.”
A nurse walked into the room with a clipboard in hand. “Miss Miller, I need you to fill out this paper work to get your little guy registered and a birth certificate created.”
“By law do I have to put the father’s name on the birth certificate?” She held Justin close to her chest. He’d woken. His blue eyes wide opened. He puckered his mouth and air bubbles formed. Even when Justin’s eyes became blue-green, they continued to stare at Morgan as if he were the most important person, other than his mother, in his life.
“No, you do not have to list the father’s name.” She flipped through some pages on her clipboard. “Here is an information document from our social work department which explains a variety of situations. You can always talk to a social worker or your attorney.” She glanced at Morgan and patted Shania’s hand. “I’ll collect the paper later.” The nurse left the room
Shania’s hand couldn’t hold the document. Morgan took it from her and after a couple of minutes he said, “Bottom line, if you do put the baby’s father’s name on the birth certificate and the father acknowledges paternity, he’d have rights. He could get parenting time. However, you could get child support as well.”
“Morgan, although Beck is the biological father, I don’t want his manipulative family to have access to Justin. Do you think sometime in the future, I’ll regret not putting his name on the form?”
“The decision has to be yours, Shania. I assume you could add Beck’s name later.” He placed the paper on a side table, took the baby from her arms, and cradled him. Morgan shoved the resentment deep down. “When you get married.”
White-knuckled, she held the clipboard in her hands. “What if Beck doesn’t come back?” Tears clouded her eyes. “He’s never contacted me, and now he’s been taken by rebels.”
“Don’t get excited about something you can’t control.” His voice was soft, but anger toward Beck stirred like an ugly monster in his stomach, mixing up the bile.
She grabbed a tissue and wiped her tears. “Thinking of the worst case scenario, what if he doesn’t return? His mother would find a way of altering Justin’s birth certificate to meet her needs. She has people everywhere to do her bidding.”
“You could put my name as the father.” Gallant, he offered his surname as if her using his name on a legal document identifying her son as his wasn’t the most important event in his life to date. In reality he wanted to have his name attached to her baby more than drawing breath. His strongest desire was to be the one responsible, to have Shania and Justin as a part of his life forever. Morgan drew in the fresh scent of the babe. As he talked, the infant’s eyes opened and the newborn snuggled closer. Did his son recognize his voice?
* * * *
“Code blue, four north.” The announcement came from overhead. Morgan shook off the memory of Justin’s birth, stopped pacing, and took a drink from the water fountain. Morgan never regretted the decision to claim Justin as his own and he would become a Hardwick. He planned to marry Shania and adopt Justin as soon as this crisis ended and he could talk some sense into her pretty pixie head.
“Morgan?” Mr. Miller touched his shoulder, bringing him further back to time and place.
“What did you find out? What did the doctor say?” Morgan swiped a hand through his hair. They’d been in the hospital waiting area for eleven hours getting sporadic information.
“She’s still in coma.” Mr. Miller nodded to a grouping of chairs ten steps away. “Why don’t you sit for a spell?”
“I can’t. I must do something. The police don’t seem to acting on this.”
“They have people scouring the woods. There isn’t evidence that Beck took Justin.”
“He didn’t wander away. Justin’s a smart kid. He would have gotten help for her.”
Mr. Miller scratched the day old whiskers on his face. “You still believe Beck took him?”
“I know he did. Regardless of what the Longviews claim, Beck took my son.” Morgan glanced through the window. Shania’s head was wrapped in a white bandage nearly blending in with her skin. Bright red clown cheeks proved she’d gotten a fever. He turned, needing to find a nurse who could give her aspirin and maybe an antibiotic.
His cellphone rang to the tune You’re the One. “Excuse me, I need to take this.”
Mr. Miller nodded and went into Shania’s room.
Morgan pushed the door open and walked onto the staircase landing. “Justin?”
“Daddy?” Justin’s voice quivered over the phone. Somehow Justin had gotten a hold of Shania’s phone and had successfully kept it from his kidnapper.
Morgan could imagine Justin’s tiny lip shaking. “Yes, son, I’m here. Tell me where you are, and I’ll come get you.”
“I don’t know. The bad man hurt Mommy.” Tears transcended the telephone wire, making Morgan’s chest hurt. His eyes watered, clouding his vision.
“She’s fine, a little bump on her head. She’ll be better when she sees you.” Morgan licked his dry lips and used the back of his hand to wipe away leakage. “Justin, where are you? Tell me what you see.”
He sniffed. “Two beds, a bathroom--”
“Okay, son, where is Beck?” Morgan didn’t need to ask who the bad man was.
“He went to get something to eat. I need you.” A crying jag was just around the corner by the quivering in his voice.
“Justin, I’ll come get you. I need to know where you are. Did the man say anything about where you were?”
“He said we’d be at the cabin tomorrow.” Sniffles came through, pounding their sharp spikes into Morgan’s gut.
“Good. Justin, look out the window and tell me what you see. Hurry.”
The sound of a curtain shifting and then Justin’s voice rang stronger than a moment before. “Cars, hills like on the painting Mommy did for her class, and a sign blinking.”
“Super. Good. Can you tell me any of the letters on the sign?” Justin was soon to be four, but Morgan didn’t know if he had any alphabet training.
“N. T. A. I. N. S.I.” He drew in a sharp breath.
“What, Justin, tell me.” Morgan’s blood raced through his veins, making him dizzy. The stairwell door opened, and his father walked into the space with a questioning expression.
“The bad man is coming.”
“Justin, hide your phone again. I’m coming for you. I’ll be there as soon as possible. Son, do you remember when we went to buy your shoes and I was grumpy?”
“Yes,” he whispered.
“Make the bad man take you to buy shoes. I’ll have more time to get to you. I love you. I promise you, I’ll be
there to get you. Okay?”
“Okay, Daddy,” he whispered.
The phone connection was lost.
“Beck has him?”
Morgan glanced at his father. “Yes, from what I could tell he’s stopped at a hotel near the hills. They’re headed toward the Longview’s lodge. Beck must have forgotten I’ve seen photos of the cabin when he told me about their fishing trip.”
“How did Justin call you?”
“He had Shania’s phone. I’m guessing, logically, the hotel’s called Mountainside. I’ll do a search to verify. Could I borrow some of your weapons?” Morgan brought up his browser and searched.
“Yes. I’ll come with you. I imagine you’re rusty, and I’ve got combat training.” He rubbed his hands together.
Morgan lifted an eyebrow. Combat training from fifty years ago. He confirmed the hotel’s address and it was in line with his memory of the cabin’s location. “It’s urgent we leave now. How will I tell the cops? They’ll restrain me for questions and a statement. I can’t wait.”
His mother came through the door. Three of them stood on the landing, no one ascending or descending the stairs.
“What’s going on out here?”
Morgan glanced at his father and smiled.
Chapter 18
“Good thing Justin made a scene at the hotel about buying boots, so the clerk could give us a time they checked out,” Mark said.
“Yes, at least now we have a time frame. If Justin was able to delay Beck by insisting on stopping for boots they’ve just arrived.” Morgan snapped the barrel of the pistol into place. They had a small arsenal, including provisions for an overnight stay if needed.
“I have to admit when I saw the store with boots the size of Godzilla decorated in Christmas lights I was tempted to stop.”
Morgan glanced at his dad. “We’ll come back and you and Justin can shop. Are you certain we’ve parked far enough away from the cabin?”
“Yes.”
They’d taken precious minutes to change into camouflage gear, which according to his father was needed to infiltrate.