Tomorrow's Sun (Lost Sanctuary)

by Becky Melby

  CHAPTER 11

  The hot shower massaged her neck. Emily turned and lifted her face into the spray then angled away to protect the cut. Filling her cupped hand with shampoo, she inhaled the soap smell. As she scrubbed her hair, exhaustion overpowered her. She leaned against the wall until the last of the suds swirled down the drain then shut off the water.

  A six-inch-long bruise decorated her thigh, the puffy oval now a darker purple than when she’d stepped in. Pain hammered in time with her pulse. Hair in a towel, she pulled a plaid flannel robe off the hook on the door and walked into the upstairs hall. She gripped the railing of the folding stairs leading to her attic. She might as well have been standing, as she once had, at the base of Mount Fuji.

  When she reached her bed, she wasn’t sure how she’d gotten there. In a tired fog, she took three pills—one for pain, two for sleep—struggled into pajamas, and lay down on her mattress.

  “You let her go home?”

  Jake shrugged at his mother. “I followed her. What was I supposed to do, pick her up and throw her over my shoulder?”

  Straightening Adam’s hospital blanket, his mother nodded. “It sounds like that’s exactly what you should have done.”

  Adam laughed, clouding his oxygen mask. With his IV hand, he lifted the mask. “She’s fierce. You should have heard her yelling at me.”

  “Somebody had to!” Jake smacked the blanket tented over Adam’s feet. “What were you thinking?”

  “That I had to find Pansy before Lexi heard she was gone because she’d get so upset she’d have another attack. Instead, we’re both in the hospital and Pansy’s missing. What a screw-up.”

  Jake twisted his mouth to one side and nodded. “Got that right. But you screwed up for a noble cause.”

  “You were trying to do the right thing.” Blaze Braden kissed her grandson’s cheek then turned to her son. “You’d better go check on that girl. She saved your nephew’s life.”

  “Nuh-uh.” Adam’s protest garbled through the mask. “I saved her.”

  “She’ll call if she needs anything.” Emily had made it abundantly clear she could manage on her own.

  Adam raised his mask. “Her phone’s wrecked. It got wet.”

  Great. He held his mother’s pointed gaze. “Fine. I’ll go check on her. I’m going to check on Lexi first.”

  “They’re just waiting on discharge papers.”

  “I know. I just want to—”

  “Stall.”

  “Yeah. Stall.”

  Stupid idea. Jake glared at the door handle. It was nine o’clock at night. Emily was exhausted. She’d be in bed in the attic. If he made her hobble down two flights of stairs to tell him she was all right, it would probably be accompanied by a slap.

  He had a key. He fingered its outline in his back pocket. He should have brought someone with him. Who? His mother was tied up. The guys on his crew were home with their families. Or at the bar. Like calling them would have been an option anyway. Hey, Topher, put that beer down and come with me while I break into this girl’s house and go up to her bedroom. With a massive inhale, he stuck the key in the lock and turned it.

  He cracked the door open. “Emily?”

  He sent his voice ahead of him through a two-inch slit. She could be in the downstairs bathroom. She could be … He shut his eyes. “Emily? It’s me. Just checking up on you.”

  If she screamed at him and told him to get out, he’d obey before the next word left her mouth. He didn’t want to be there any more than she wanted him. But no sound came from above.

  With intentionally heavy steps that echoed through the empty house, he climbed to the second floor and repeated his plea for a response. Any answer would do.

  He walked up the steps to the attic, pausing after every step, calling her name again. Four steps up, fear set in. No one slept that soundly. He ran up the last few steps and poked his head through the opening.

  Emily lay on a mattress on the floor on the west end of the attic. Thankfully, fully clothed. The right leg of her pajamas, pushed above her knee, exposed an ugly, dark purple bruise. He didn’t need to step too close to hear strong, steady breathing. She was alive. Was she conscious? “Emily?”

  Just talk to me and I’ll leave. Wake up, throw a pillow in my face, and I’m out of here. He kneeled beside her, sending a brown plastic bottle skittering across the floor. Bending sideways, he caught it. Percocet. A second bottle lay on its side, half-covered by a blanket. He’d picked up enough prescriptions for his mother to be familiar with both drugs—one for pain, one for sleep. If she’d taken both, she’d be a zombie.

  One look at your pupils and I’ll say good-bye. He lifted a limp hand. Smooth skin, tapered fingers. An artistic hand. It fit snugly in his. Rubbing the back with his thumb, he said her name again.

  “Hmm?” Eyelids twitched. He let go of her hand. She rolled on her side, hugging her pillow, facing him.

  So she wasn’t brain-dead. Jake crossed his legs and picked up her hand again. “How are you feeling?”

  “Tired.” Her lips barely moved.

  “Does your leg hurt?”

  “Mm-hm.”

  “How ‘bout your head?”

  Her forehead crinkled. Very cute. “No.” The creases deepened. One eye popped open then the other. Equal and reactive. “Is Adam okay?”

  “He’s fine. He’ll be in overnight for observation. Just like you should be.”

  “And Lexi?”

  “On her way home.”

  “Good.” Eyes fluttering shut, she shook her head. Her hair spilled across her face. Jake brushed it away, skimming her warm cheek. “Hate hospitals,” she mumbled.

  “I imagine you do. How long were you in?”

  “Three weeks … first. Long time second.”

  “Did you need surgery after your accident?”

  Her pillow rustled as she nodded. “Lots.” She was silent for several seconds. “MRSA.”

  “That’s an infection, right?” The name had something to do with antibiotic resistance. That’s all he knew about it.

  “Mm-hm. Evil. God punishes.”

  Leaning closer, he enclosed her hand in both of his. “What do you mean?”

  “I deserved it.”

  “You deserved an infection?”

  “If I hadn’t …” Eyes squinched shut. Her breathing grew slow and deep again.

  Jake lifted her hand. And kissed it.

  He reached the first floor before the sensation left his lips. Common sense returned about the same time. She didn’t have a phone. With that leg, it was doubtful she could even climb down to use the bathroom. Pulling out his phone, he pushed “2” and waited for his mother’s voice.

  “Is she okay, honey?”

  “She’s conscious. It looks like she took a pain pill and a sleeping pill—”

  “Bring her here.”

  Scuffing his heel against the floor, he smiled. “You’re sure?”

  “That’s what you called about, isn’t it?”

  Unnerving. “Yes.”

  “Then do what you should have done in the first place and sling her over your shoulder and bring her here. Unless you think she should see a doctor first.”

  “I think she should, but the ER wouldn’t be a safe place if I took her against her will.”

  “A girl with spunk, huh?”

  He cringed. One word, spoken in casual conversation, and it would follow him forever. “Mother.”

  “Jacob. Bring her here. Lexi and I can go back for her things tomorrow.”

  “Okay. Thank you.”

  “Thank you.” A smile tinged her voice.

  He closed his phone and his eyes. This was going to be bad. His mother, who claimed her job wouldn’t be complete until she found him a wife, was about to meet a girl with spunk.

  “That’s ridiculous.” Emily propped up on pillows and yawned. “I feel great and I have everything I need.”

  “Except a phone.”

  She laughed at him. “I’
ll run across the street if I need to call someone.”

  “You’ll what?” He laughed right back. “No offense, but you weren’t exactly running before your leg turned into a purple eggplant.”

  “So I’ll hobble across the street.” Her somewhat sheepish smile made his shirt cling to his back. The air conditioner wasn’t doing its job.

  “You’ll like my mom.”

  “I’m sure I would. I’d love to meet her. Sometime.”

  Unfolding his legs, Jake stood. “Humor me. Get up and walk me down to the door. If you make it look effortless, I’ll leave you alone.”

  Her next laugh sounded like a popping balloon. “I haven’t made anything look effortless in almost two years!”

  Way to go. “Is it constant pain?”

  “It’s constant something.” She moved her focus to the opposite end of the room.

  He sat back down. Above the air conditioner, feeble moonlight filtered through the window.

  “Most of the time it’s just stiffness and a dull ache. If I overdo it, I’ll feel pain.”

  “So by morning you’re going to be a mess.”

  She graced him with a tiny laugh. “That’s what medication is for.” Her top lashes rested again on cheeks dusted with freckles.

  Jake took full advantage of her sleeping pill. Bracing his hands on the floor, he studied her face. The tips of her hair—pale, spun-gold—helped him imagine a different image than the one in front of him. Makeup, designer clothes, expensive jewelry. He could see her being high maintenance. If he’d met her two years ago, would he have looked twice? Duh. Probably even a third time.

  While plastering a ceiling several weeks ago, Topher had asked him to describe the perfect woman. He couldn’t do it. “I’ll know her when I see her,” he’d answered.

  “There isn’t just one out there, you know. What’s the closest you’ve seen?”

  No one had come to mind. His lack of answers had bugged him ever since. Was there something wrong with him that he was still unentangled? He traced the curve of Emily’s chin with his eyes then stared at the natural pink of her lips. No denying the attraction but that meant nothing. He did the look-twice-and-then-again thing on a daily basis but still stuck to “I’ll know her when I see her.”

  For now, he was grateful “she” hadn’t appeared. His life was too messy. Though laying it all out on the table would be the perfect test. Nice to meet you. Hope you don’t mind that I invited two twelve-year-olds along on our date.

  Puppies and kitties were chick magnets. Preteens not so much.

  Emily’s breath shuddered. Did she have nightmares from the accident? The only serious accident he’d ever been in gave him some idea. He was sixteen and drunk, though maybe not as much as the driver. Her car, a gold Z28 Camaro, was a birthday present from her parents on the morning of the accident. To this day, he could close his eyes and see the patch of ice, hear himself screaming at her to pull her foot off the brake. The semi looming … the car spinning like a child’s top in the middle of the road … the slam … shoulder harness ripping into his shoulder … glass shattering … The girl had walked away with cuts and bruises. He’d walked out of the ER with nothing but a brace for a busted collarbone. The nightmares had diminished with time, but he could still conjure the sounds and smells at will.

  Emily moaned softly. Eyelids rose then lowered. “I’m really tired. Maybe I should go back to sleep.”

  You just were. Jake smiled. “What’s your favorite food?”

  “Pasta Alfredo.” Her answer mingled with a yawn.

  “What a coincidence. We’re having a late supper tonight. Pasta Alfredo.”

  Her eyelids struggled open. She sat up straighter and simply stared. For a moment he wondered if she’d fallen back to sleep and forgotten to pull the shades. Finally her head tipped to one side. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Why am I inviting you to dinner? It’s the neighborly thing to do. You’re new in the neighborhood, and my mom would like to welcome you. Did I tell you I live around the corner?”

  “Little redbrick house. You told me.” She rubbed her nose with a short-nailed hand, like a little girl. “I meant, why are you here?”

  “I—” Why was he there? He’d climbed the stairs to satisfy his mother. He’d stayed and watched her sleep because … “My mother is worried about you. You saved her grandson’s life.”

  Her hair splayed across her cheek. He restrained his hand. “Adam would have been just fine without me.”

  “I don’t believe that for a minute. He’s got a head full of book smarts and he thinks he’s invincible.” If he had a father who actually took him boating or camping or anything … He put the thoughts back where they belonged—on hold. “He told us how you made a paddle.”

  She shrugged. “My cane came in handy. It’s gone, isn’t it?”

  “Your cane? I guess it must be.”

  She lifted the quilt to cover a yawn.

  “Can I fix you some coffee?”

  “No. Thank you. I really just need to go back to sleep. Tell your mother I appreciate her thoughtfulness.”

  “She’ll take it out on me if I show up without you. You’d be doing her a favor, you know. Since my sister died, she hasn’t had any girl talk at home.”

  A long sigh ruffled a loose thread on her quilt. “I wouldn’t be good company.” She played with the thread, wrapping it around her finger, unraveling it, and winding it again. “I don’t want to sound rude, or unappreciative.” Her hands slapped the sides of her mattress. Her eyes found his. “I’ll just spell it out. I’m at a very self-focused time in my life. I need to get this house done and move on. If people try getting close to me, they’ll be disappointed. I’ll let them down because I have nothing to give. This is a great little town, and I’m sure it’s full of wonderful people. Please don’t take this personally, but I can’t afford to get close to anyone right now.”

  Her eyes pleaded for understanding, but her words splashed like ice water. Jake rose to his feet. What had he expected? She’d hired him to remodel her house, not be her best friend. “I understand.” His right hand made a back-off gesture, though he was the one backing away. “I’ll be here tomorrow afternoon to start on the dining room wall.”

  “I’ll see you then.”

  “Yeah.” He’d be back in less than twenty-four hours to tear down a wall. Before that, he’d have to demolish something he’d just now identified.

  The reason he’d stayed to watch her sleep.

  CHAPTER 12

  The water was warmer now. Rain dappled the surface above her, but sunlight pierced the cloudy green. Emily fingered the rays, played them like harp strings. Milky white hands, red nails flecked with gold, coaxed music from sunlight. Tiny bubbles tickled her arms. Thunder rumbled below her. Someone had moved the sky. The rays grew warmer. White light turned gold then orange, scorching her fingers. Her eyes burned. Thunder cracked, shaking the river bottom. The light vanished. Heat remained. Air. She needed air. Clawing to the surface … which way was up?

  “Emily!”

  The water muffled his voice. Jake! I’m here! The current spun her, wrapping her hair around her face. Her lungs screamed. Jake! I’m—

  “Emily. Wake up.”

  He pulled the wet hair from her face. Sweet air filled her lungs. “Thank you.” She whispered it against his hand. His touch was cool.

  “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

  Her eyes shot open. She grabbed his hand and tore it from her face. “No. I told you no.”

  The mattress tilted. She closed her eyes. Like the boat swaying on the log, cracking beneath them, water seeping in. But she wasn’t in the boat. She wasn’t in the water.

  Stay awake. She commanded her eyes open. Attic beams whirled overhead, Jake’s face blurred. Her hands clamped over her face. Just a dream.

  Weightless, she rose above the floor, floating. But something held her arms. No restraints. I told you … Panic surged from her chest. She twisted and pushed b
ut couldn’t break free. Her feet thrashed out but found only air.

  “Stop fighting.” Jake’s voice sounded in her ear, strained and tight.

  She felt his breath on her face. But he wasn’t helping, wasn’t untying her. “Get me out—”

  “Hold still.”

  Footsteps. Her body sank with them. Lower and lower until she knew she’d never find her way out.