To her surprise, it occurred to her that she was enjoying their relationship exactly the way it was right now. She had the best of both worlds. Why change anything?
Because Grant and Brooke and Beau needed more.
Did she have more to give?
Something nibbled at the bait of chicken liver. She gave an expert jerk—not too hard, not too gentle—to set the hook. She could tell before turning the reel that an underwater thief had escaped with her bait.
She shrugged and hauled in the line. No problem. She had a bucket of bait and a whole day to squander. She might even build a fire and cook any fish she caught, enjoy the sunset, and take a leisurely drive back home. This could turn out to be a great day.
***
Grant hung up the phone after still another frustrating attempt to contact someone on a Saturday morning. He would know better next time. Besides, he needed some sleep because he was getting tired and cranky and—
“Sounds a little odd to me, that’s all I’m saying, and I’m not the only one who thinks it.”
The faintly irritating female voice drifted into the office from somewhere nearby and he recognized the speaker not only by the shrill tone, but also by the typical topic of conversation—someone else. Hospital grapevine. Fiona Perkins was the lifeblood of gossip at this place.
“You know Archer and Lauren are both missing, don’t you?” Fiona continued. “I knew about them last summer. They had a thing going, I could tell.”
Grant cringed at the insinuation. Growing more irritated, he got up from his desk and investigated. The vent between this office and the storage room next door had been redirected at his request and sound no longer carried between rooms.
“ ...can’t find Archer, can’t find his car?” the voice continued. “Come on, Vivian, get a clue. He couldn’t take the pressure anymore. I heard there was trouble between him and Jessica Lane from the very beginning over Lauren. That’s what broke them up last summer, you know.”
“No,” came the secretary’s chilly reply. “I didn’t know. And where did you get your information?”
“Hey, where were you last summer? Everybody in the hospital knew about them and you know how many of our people go to church there.”
“And do you really think they’d still be going to that church if this stuff were true?” Vivian’s voice held an edge now.
Fiona snorted. “Why not? Everybody does it—why not the preacher?”
Grant caught sight of the culprit. Plump, black-haired Fiona stood leaning against the counter of the central desk, her phlebotomy tray beside her. She had her back turned to him.
“It happens all the time,” she continued happily. “Those preachers are the worst. Remember that guy in Springfield a couple years ago? You know, the one who made the news?”
Vivian’s gaze barely flicked to Grant as he stepped out the door and then she turned her focus back to Fiona. “Do you have any idea how many preachers there are in all of Springfield?” Vivian’s voice was a little snippier and a little louder—a tech and a nurse paused to look at her. “Hundreds. But do their long years of service and fidelity make the news? Very seldom. People are always eager to point fingers but when you start talking about people I know and care about, you’d better get your facts straight, missy.” She turned her attention to Grant. “Heard enough, Dr. Sheldon?”
Fiona stiffened and turned, her blue eyes wide with surprise. “Oh. Hi, Dr. Sheldon. I thought Dr. Jonas was on duty today.”
“He is.” Grant covered his irritation with a tight smile. “Did you have a patient to see, Fiona?”
She took the hint and picked up her tray. “No, but I guess I could get back to the lab.”
She turned to go and Grant escorted her to the door. He could feel the attention of several of the staff and he saw Vivian nod with approval. He didn’t want to humiliate this young woman in front of a crowd but he couldn’t let her get by with this. Mitchell Caine had complained about her in the past and had nearly gotten her fired when he was chief of staff last year.
Grant held the door for her as she stepped out into the hallway then continued to walk beside her. “Fiona, I believe you’ve been an employee here long enough to understand the code of personal respect medical personnel should have for their patients and co-workers.”
“Sorry, Dr. Sheldon. I didn’t know you were—”
“It doesn’t matter whether you thought I was listening or not. What matters is the disregard you showed for someone else’s privacy. Whether it’s regarding staff or simply citizens of this town, confidentiality is vital because at any moment one of those people could become a patient, and then confidentiality is the law.” He stopped at the lab entrance.
Fiona turned to leave.
“Next time,” he said, “I’m lodging a formal complaint. Combined with the complaints you’ve no doubt received in the past, you may no longer be working here. Think about that before you open your mouth to spread your next rumor.”
***
Jessica drove the circumference of Dogwood Springs searching for her husband’s tall athletic frame wherever she saw people working to clean up after the flood. Her sister rode shotgun and was presently in the middle of a call to the helicopter pilot who was searching for Archer’s car from the air.
“I see.” Heather sounded disappointed and Jessica’s fingers automatically clenched the steering wheel. “Well, thanks for looking, Tom. Yes, if you see anything would you please call this number?”
She disconnected with a sigh. “Archer never made it to Mrs. Eddingly’s.”
“Did Tom see anything as he flew over?”
“He said no but he’s going to search a little longer. Another storm front’s coming in so he’ll have to go back soon.”
“How’s Mrs. Eddingly?” Jessica asked.
“Good. Tom took her the inhaler. He said she refused to let him fly her out. She didn’t want to leave her animals.”
For a moment Jessica couldn’t force herself to respond.
At the bottom of the hillside a group of men stacked sandbags around a house at the end of Ford Street. Among them was muscle-bound Kent Eckard. If Archer were here, he would stop and help.
She turned onto Highway Z and drove uphill once more, to the section of land for which the city had been named. Atop this ridge dogwoods bloomed on both sides of the road. Archer loved this spot.
Archer loved all of Dogwood Springs. He especially loved his church. If he hadn’t been out in the storm running another of the millions of errands his church expected of him….
His church.
Two vehicles were parked alongside the road up ahead—one a pickup truck with a volunteer fire department siren light mounted on its dash.
“Looks like some people searching for Archer,” Heather said.
Jessica slowed as she neared the vehicles.
“I thought the bridge was farther up the road,” Heather said.
“It is, but the river surrounds Dogwood Ridge on three sides. The ridge is shaped like a peninsula, with the road curving down into the valley at the tip. We could park anywhere along here and walk to the river.”
“Then let’s do it,” Heather said. “I know you won’t be satisfied unless we at least check it out. Park here, Jessie.” Heather indicated the roadside in front of the truck.
As soon as they stepped from the car they heard the river’s roar past the line of trees. They followed a trail of footprints in the mud and descended down the side of the ridge through a thicket of cedars.
When they emerged at the other side of the thicket they stopped. Jessica stared in horrified awe.
Heather whistled softly. “That isn’t a river, it’s an ocean.”
The debris-filled water mingled with the reflection of ever-darkening clouds. Oh, Archer. If you got trapped in that...
Jessica scrambled down a gentle slope toward the river’s edge. Voices reached her from upriver.
“ ...not gonna find anybody in this mess, speci
ally with the water level rising so fast.”
“Keep looking. You never know.”
“Nobody here anyway, you ask me.”
“Didn’t ask.”
“Think he just couldn’t take the pressure and ran off with that pretty blond nurse? Heard stuff about them last summer. Know what I mean?”
Jessica stopped. Behind her, Heather caught her breath. Audibly.
“What?” Heather exclaimed. “That jerk!” She started to move past Jessica. “Hey!” she shouted, loudly enough for the whole hillside to hear. “Watch your dirty—”
Jessica grasped her arm. “No, honey, don’t say anything to them. At least they’re looking. Come on, let’s walk the other way.”
“But that’s—”
“Please, Heather. Let’s just go upriver. You’ve got to watch your voice, you know. You’ve got the show by yourself tonight.”
Her sister relented and fell into step behind Jessica. “They were talking about Lauren, weren’t they?”
“They don’t know what they’re talking about. It’s nothing but silly small-town rumors.”
“What rumors?”
“It’s nothing.” But where was Lauren?
“You’d think they’d be a little more respectful of the—” Heather caught her breath.
Jessica stopped.
“Oh, sis, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean I thought he was dead, I meant—”
“I know what you meant.”
A rumble of thunder startled her. Lightning divided gray thunderheads to the west, much closer now. One of the men downriver muttered something about more flooding.
Jessica pressed through a thicket of weeds and stopped at the shoreline.
“Hey!” called someone from above them. “You down there! Better get back to the road.”
Jessica looked up to see a man in hunter-orange rain gear.
He gestured to the sky when he saw he had her attention. “Gonna hit us any time.”
She nodded and waited for him to disappear over the hill, then turned and resumed her search. “Heather, you should go back up to the car.”
“Not without you.”’
Jessica paused and studied the surface of the water. Three logs floated past followed by a hubcap and a half-submerged barrel.
Thunder echoed more closely and the first drops of rain fell.
“Won’t do Archer any good for you to get soaked out here,” Heather said.
Cold rain struck Jessica’s face as she looked up at her sister. “Get to the car, Heather.”
“No.” Heather took a step toward Jessica as if she would physically carry her up the hill if she had to. Something caught her attention from below. She caught her breath.
Jessica turned.
“No, don’t—”
Jessica stumbled backward at the sight of a car tire floating past them only a few feet away.
Heather took her arm. “Come on, sis. Let’s get out of this.”
Jessica relented for Heather’s sake. She couldn’t depend on the police department or volunteers or family or church or God to find her husband for her. She could only depend on herself.
Chapter Eighteen
The lights along Olive Street flickered to life as Lauren turned off Highway H three blocks from her house. It had been a great day of much-needed solitude. Her clothes smelled of fish and smoke from the fire she’d built to cook her dinner.
She turned from Olive onto Lilac Circle, a block from her house, and frowned when she saw the glow of a porch light...her porch light. Through the darkness of late twilight she saw the outline of a Ford Bronco—the vehicle Grant had purchased earlier in the year. She smiled and pulled into the drive. Grant wasn’t in the Bronco so he might be waiting for her in the house—he knew where she kept her emergency key to the front door and he and the kids had used it several times in the past few months. They never abused the privilege and she enjoyed it when they dropped in.
How would it feel to share a home with them full time?
A flood of warm joy surprised her. Would it be so difficult to come home to this family every night? To have Brooke’s witty chatter filling the house as a backdrop for Beau’s thoughtful seriousness? To have Grant’s steady love and welcoming arms?
She switched off the motor and got out of the truck, feeling more certain with every step that this was right—that the name Lauren Sheldon sounded wonderful.
She saw the outline of a tall form behind the thick lace curtains of her sitting room. She raised her hand and waved but Grant had already stepped away from the window. Seconds later he came barreling onto the porch and down the front steps.
“Grant, it’s so good to—”
“Thank God.” He drew her into his arms and buried his face against her neck. “Thank God you’re safe.”
She felt the first prickling of alarm. This wasn’t a social call. “Of course I’m safe. Why would you think—?”
He released her and stepped back, cupping her face with his hands. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“We? Why? What’s going—” Uh-oh, had she forgotten a fishing date? Brooke had been so excitable lately and she might have panicked but Lauren felt sure she hadn’t made a date with her for today.
“I’ve tried calling you every hour all afternoon.” Grant pulled her back into his arms.
“Grant, will you please—” She resisted her weak-kneed reaction to the hardness of his arms and pulled out of them. “Please tell me what’s going on.”
He looked down at the baggy denim bib overalls she wore with an old red-plaid shirt of her brother’s. He sniffed, frowned.
“You’ve been fishing?” There was a hint of irritation in his voice.
“Is that a problem? Last time I checked the schedule I wasn’t due to work today. What—”
“You haven’t seen Archer, then.” He sounded disappointed.
What on earth did Archer have to do with anything? “Grant Sheldon, if you don’t tell me what you’re talking about I’ll—”
“He’s been missing since last night.”
“Missing? What do you mean? Friday’s supposed to be his day off. Maybe he and Jessica took off for a little break. They could use—”
“He stopped by the hospital and I sent him on a mission of mercy to Mrs. Eddingly’s. He planned to go home from there. Apparently he never arrived home at all. He never even arrived at Mrs. Eddingly’s. The old bridge was washed out.”
“The bridge?” Lauren caught her breath and reached for Grant’s arm. “What about his car? Is it—?”
“Not a sign of it. The storm last night...No one’s seen him since he left the hospital.”
Lauren sank down onto the front porch steps.
Grant sat down beside her and put an arm around her shoulders. She allowed him to pull her against him and she leaned into that comfort, wrestling an attack of overwhelming fear.
Nothing could have happened to Archer. Not Archer! She’d known him since she was ten. He’d been best friends with her younger brothers. He was almost like a brother to her.
“You’re thinking he was caught in the flood?” she asked.
“It’s just one possibility among many at this point. There’s no evidence of an accident—although with all the rain we had last night it could have washed away much of the soft evidence. There’s been no report of a wreck...” He paused and his arm tightened around her. “I need to warn you about one more thing, Lauren.”
“There’s more?”
“Nothing to worry about right now. Some people at the hospital knew I tried to reach you this morning and couldn’t find you. They also knew Archer was missing.”
Lauren followed the implication of his words. Fiona Perkins was at it again. “So now half the hospital is convinced...”
“Not half the hospital. Most of them have more sense than that.”
“That old rumor couldn’t still be circulating after a year.” She narrowed her eyes at Grant. “Could it?”
; “You know how things get blown out of pro—”
“What about Jessica? She hasn’t heard that, has she?”
“I don’t think anyone would mention it to her.”
“Have you spoken with her?” Lauren asked. “Is she okay? Where is she?”
“I’ve talked to her several times. She’s frightened, and—”
“Dad, you found her!” came a feminine shout from the direction of the street.
Lauren and Grant turned to find Beau pulling up to the curb in the Volvo with Brooke hanging half out of the window. Before the car even came to a complete stop Brooke had dislodged herself from the passenger side and was rushing up the driveway.
“Lauren, where have you been? We’ve looked all over for you.” She stopped several yards away and her nose wrinkled. She glared, hands on hips. “You’ve been fishing? We’ve been frantic about you all day and you’ve been hiding out somewhere on a creek bank?”
“It wasn’t as if I knew something was going to happen, Brooke,” Lauren said calmly. “I don’t have disaster radar.”
“Couldn’t you have left a note? You didn’t take your cell phone with you and you couldn’t even give anyone a quick call to let us know where you’d be all day. All day! How could you—?”
“Hold it. Time out.” Lauren raised a hand. “Last I heard all was right with the world and I had the day off.”
“And so you went fishing? Alone? All day?” Brooke demanded. The unspoken accusation hung in the air: Without me?
“I didn’t just go fishing, Brooke, I—”
“You smell like smoke.” Brooke stepped closer and sniffed.
“I...uh...cooked my dinner.” Lauren winced at Brooke’s expression of hurt.
“I would have gone with you.”
“I know but I needed to get away for a little while—to think about things. Can we talk about this later? I need to find out how Archer’s—”
Beau emerged from the car at the curb, locked the door, pocketed his keys. “Lauren, you need to call your parents and let them know you’re okay,” he said as he joined them. “I called them when we were looking for you and they’re probably worried.”
Lauren suppressed a groan. “You called my parents?”
Great, they must be frantic. She half expected to turn and see them pulling into her driveway. “Fine, I’ll call them but as you can all see I’m in perfect health, no limbs missing.” She held her arms out to her sides for emphasis. “And after I’ve cleaned up I’m going to go see Jessica.” She removed herself from Grant’s gentle grasp and turned toward the house.
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