Second Thoughts

by O'Keefe, Bobbie

  “I was wondering if you had the guts to pull the trigger,” he said. “And now I know.” He pulled open the drawer and replaced the gun in it. “That’s twice today I did that—underestimated the so-called weaker sex. I’m going to die a very young man if I keep that up.”

  “Uh, Max, you forgot the safety,” Petey warned.

  Max paused in the act of closing the drawer. Then patiently he pulled it back out, removed the gun, and reset the safety.

  “No bullets,” Connie said tonelessly.

  He pushed the drawer closed. “Right. Didn’t want to take the chance of anyone getting hurt. But I didn’t know then that I was the one I’d be saving from getting shot.”

  Connie stared at the closed drawer. It had taken all the courage she possessed to pull the trigger, and she was now so bone-weary and brain-tired she was having difficulty with coherent thought.

  “Sounds like one of those babies might do an injury to the other one,” Max said gently. “Maybe you better get over there.”

  The front door opened and Christopher charged through it. He pulled up short when he caught sight of the twins sitting in the middle of the toy garage. Derek and Moose followed, carrying assorted bags and accompanied by the aroma of fried chicken.

  Derek’s gaze found Connie.

  “The guns aren’t loaded,” she said dully.

  He froze. Moose’s head snapped toward Max. Max shrugged. “She got hold of a gun.”

  Derek gave Connie a worried, searching look. Moose looked thoughtfully wary.

  “And she pulled the trigger,” Max added. Moose looked even warier.

  Derek’s gaze traveled back and forth between Connie and Max, and then settled on her. “You okay?”

  She nodded. Her wits were returning, one at a time.

  The noise in the corner changed. Petey and Christopher were trying to rescue their garage from the twins and having little success. Instead of fighting each other, the babies had joined forces and were resisting the bigger kids. Making resigned faces at each other, Petey and Chris started entertaining the two tots by running toy trucks around them in circles.

  Derek unloaded containers onto the table, Moose got plates, and Max counted out cutlery. Connie watched them. Everything she did, even thinking, seemed to be in slow motion.

  Derek looked up a couple times, his gaze traveling between Max and Moose. He appeared to be measuring them.

  Max turned his way, caught his look, and must’ve gotten the same impression Connie did. “Uh-huh,” he said. “But remember, with or without bullets, nothing else has changed. There are still three of us, one of you, one of her, and three of them. But if you think you can pull something off, you give it your best shot.” It didn’t appear he’d issued a challenge, however; it was more like a simple statement. He put the handful of cutlery in the middle of the table, and then started placing chairs.

  * * *

  Derek followed Connie into their assigned bedroom. She was spent, ready to drop. She waited for him to pass, closed the door, and then leaned against it. They shared a long look.

  “Trying day,” she said blandly.

  His lips curved. “That is a gem of an understatement.”

  “If you ever invite me to go fishing again, I won’t.”

  She looked at Christopher. His small form sprawled across the bed. He’d crashed early and had gotten a kick out of going to bed in his underwear instead of pajamas. The situation might be a dilemma for his aunt and uncle, but clearly it was an adventure to him. The twins had also gone down easily, much to Moose’s relief, and Connie’s. She was operating on automatic pilot.

  Remembering what she’d seen in the big man’s room, she glanced back at Derek. “It looked like Moose is living out of a suitcase, so this isn’t his home.”

  He nodded, confirming her supposition as fact. “He’s on vacation. Said something about the rat race having a definite allure when compared to this holiday.” He made a wry face. “Have to agree with him on that one.”

  “I don’t get the impression Max is employed, at least not presently.”

  “I don’t know. From the look of that tool chest, he must be a carpenter. And he’s sharp, very sharp. He and Moose appear to be good friends, but Max lacks the…” He paused, as if searching for a word, then went on. “Worldliness, I guess, that the big guy has. Max is a very simple, uncomplicated man. But it could be a grievous mistake to underestimate him.”

  He glanced at the closed door. “The phone I used was in a back bedroom. Have you—”

  “Max said there’s only one phone. In his room.”

  Derek gave her an appraising look. “Enough about them. How about you? You seem to be holding up all right. More than all right. If that gun had been loaded, you would’ve had us out of here.”

  “I was scared. Still am, but of the situation more than the people. If I hadn’t been so obsessed with protecting the kids, I wouldn’t have been able to pull the trigger of that gun.”

  When Derek sat on the edge of the bed, the movement disturbed Christopher. The child rolled onto his stomach, then sprawled out until he covered almost the whole bed.

  Connie leaned her head back against the door and stared at the ceiling. “Yeah, I agree Max is sharp. He knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted to know what I was capable of, and he kept pushing until he found out.” She stopped and wet her lips, still staring at the ceiling. “Only thing is, I don’t know if I flunked the test or passed it.”

  “How dangerous are they?” Derek said musingly, as if he were asking himself as well as her. “Would they do us deliberate harm?”

  “I don’t think so. But we’re still not going to get out of here until they’re ready to let us go.” Her gaze lowered to meet his. She gave him a pointed look. “If necessary, they will restrain you, Derek. Take it easy, okay?”

  “I can imagine the reception I’d get if I returned to the studio with a black eye and a cut lip,” he said wryly.

  He massaged his eyes, then rubbed his face. “I’ve got to get some sleep. My thought processes are about ready to desert me.” He looked at Christopher. “We’re going to have to rearrange him before either one of us can get in there. It’s only a double. Going to be a tight fit for all three of us, but I guess we’ll manage.”

  Connie watched silently as Derek repositioned Chris into the middle of the bed. She was aware of his evasion regarding her warning that he should be careful. He resented controls being placed on him and was apt to fight their captors for that reason just as readily as he would to protect her or the kids.

  He stripped to his shorts, quickly and casually, and slipped into bed next to Chris. He placed his hands under his head and looked at Connie. She looked back at him.

  “I have no objection to again sharing a bed with you,” he said mildly. “But would prefer it to be under different circumstances.”

  “Uh-huh.” She crossed to the bed and sat on the edge of it to remove her shoes. Then, still wearing her tank top and shorts, she slipped in on the other side of Chris.

  “That’s it?” Derek asked.

  “That’s it. The two of you might get away with sleeping in your underwear, but I can’t.”

  The lamp was on his side, and he reached to turn it off. She lay still, feeling awkward and uncomfortable while her ex-husband jostled the bed, searching for a comfortable position. Granted, they had a child between them, but she was still sharing a bed with him for the first time in two years.

  The mattress finally became still. Then she turned over and searched for her own comfortable position. “And you thought they’d be separating us,” she said into the darkness.

  * * *

  Connie got up with Christopher, then gave Derek a good shake. Then she shook him again, using both hands, and kept it up until she saw the color of his eyes. She straightened and turned to leave. He mumbled something that she paid no attention to.

  Christopher and Petey were too busy with their toy garage to even look her way. The twin
s were already up, but Moose had filled bottles for them and they were happy. She hadn’t packed cereal, not expecting to have to feed them breakfast on a picnic, so they’d have to take potluck along with everybody else. She checked the contents of the refrigerator and cabinets. Recalling Max’s words yesterday, she assumed she’d get to cook breakfast.

  She was a woman. Therefore, she could cook. She resented the sexist assumption, which was, in this case, grossly inaccurate. But their captors weren’t abusive or violent. Perhaps two out of three wasn’t bad.

  Although Moose appeared to be good with kids, he evidently wasn’t used to them. Derek had gotten up and was helping with the twins, but he hadn’t had a whole lot of practice with them either. While he was rescuing one of them from the toilet bowl, the other one took a header off the sofa.

  Connie flew out of the kitchen. She gathered the baby up, checking for blood and bruises. Realizing the child was more scared than hurt, she rocked it while still on her feet, humming softly. After a short moment, she figured out that it was Andy.

  In the corner, Petey lifted his head and sniffed. “She burned the toast again.”

  “Yeah.” The frown was in Max’s voice as well as on his face. “Told her the first time she had to keep a careful eye on the toaster,” he muttered. He looked at the smoking pan on the stove. “Guess we can kiss the bacon goodbye, too.”

  Connie put daggers into her stare. “Maybe you could watch the stupid toaster. And while you’re at it, maybe you could also take the stupid pan off the stupid burner.” Any adjective could be made scurrilous with enough inflection.

  Max’s gaze snapped to her.

  “I don’t know how I’m supposed to watch the toaster, burn the bacon, and take care of two babies at the same time. Now shut up…and back off.” She hadn’t raised her voice, but it was backed up with every pound she possessed.

  Christopher looked up from the corner, as surprised as Max.

  Derek appeared at her side. He silently put Abbie on her feet next to Connie then stalked into the kitchen. Tightlipped, he removed the smoking pan from the stove, then took black toast from the toaster and threw it into the garbage. He searched through the bottom cabinets for another skillet. The look on his face said clearly that nobody should mess with him.

  But Connie knew it wasn’t she with whom he was upset. If she didn’t calm down, he was going to double up his fists on her behalf.

  “I’m sorry, Aunt Connie,” Moose said, staring up at her and Andy. He looked shamefaced and guilty. “I was right here next to him, and I…”

  “I know,” she said, redirecting her attention to the big man on the sofa. “It’s not the first fall he’s taken, and it won’t be the last.” Because Moose appeared to be more hurt than Andy, she smiled and put her hand on the man’s shoulder.

  Then quickly she grabbed Abbie’s arm before she could get away. The child still wore yesterday’s coveralls, and both sleeves were soaked to the shoulder. Wearily, Connie shook her head. “Her mother has three baby books, full of the stunts these kids have pulled. She’s saving it for their teens, and then she’s going to blackmail them. Playing in the toilet will fit nicely in Abbie’s book.”

  She put Andy down—he’d gotten over his scare and was twisting impatiently in her arms—and picked up Abbie. “I’ve got to wash and change her. There’s only one outfit left, and I guess she gets it.”

  She glanced at the kitchen. Derek had found another pan and was placing strips of bacon in it. She hadn’t burned all of it, just most of it. “You’ll get a better meal with him cooking, anyway.”

  Moose’s eyes brightened. “He can cook?”

  She nodded. “Quite well.”

  A dreamy look came over him. “Haven’t had a decent home-cooked meal since my wife died.”

  She looked back. “Oh, I—”

  He shook his head and waggled his hand, warding off her words. “Five years ago, cancer, no kids.” Then, as if hearing himself, he made a rueful face. “I just explained my whole life in six words.” His expression, of quiet acceptance and lonely pain, cut straight through to Connie’s heart.

  Looking embarrassed, he got to his feet. He was so big he absolutely dwarfed Connie. “I’ll see if I can give Uncle Dare a hand. Since I haven’t been much help with the babies.”

  Somewhat warily—the aura of temper surrounding Derek was close to palpable—Moose approached the kitchen. Derek glanced up, acknowledging him, then returned his attention to the sizzling bacon. A bowl of eggs sat on the counter.

  “Do you know how to make omelets?” Moose asked hopefully.

  Derek looked up, nodded. “You want omelets, I’ll make them.”

  Max passed Connie on his way to the kitchen. It seemed he took care to avoid her eyes. “I’ll do the toast while you cook the eggs,” he told Derek. But it was evident in his manner that he wasn’t backing down from anybody but Connie. He gave Derek a look that dared him to say something. Derek didn’t.

  “With cheese?” Moose asked. There was a little boy’s delight in the big man’s face.

  “Sure.” It seemed Derek’s mood was easing, degree by degree. “You want to dig out the cheese?”

  “It’s just slices,” Moose said. “But we can cut them up with a knife. And I think we’ve got an onion,” he added, rummaging through the refrigerator. “I can dice it. I know how to do that. And we should have a slice or two of ham left. It’s the sandwich kind, but we can cut that up, too.”

  Connie stood at the entrance to the hall with Abbie in her arms, watching and listening to the teamwork. She had no doubt that among the three of them, an excellent meal would be produced.

  Chapter Twelve“Since you’re the cook,” Max said to Derek after breakfast, “you also get to do the grocery shopping.” He stooped to put a skillet away in a bottom cabinet. The three men were sharing kitchen cleanup, just as they’d worked together to make the meal.

  Connie had got the twins and Christopher as presentable as possible with their limited supplies. Chris had only frowned at her once, when she’d applied toothpaste to his finger and insisted that he brush his teeth. Then Petey decided he didn’t need his toothbrush either, and they’d gone through half a tube before Connie captured it and carried it out of the bathroom.

  She sat in the upholstered easy chair, the tube of toothpaste in her lap, one eye and ear on the twins as they attempted to climb the sofa, and the other eye and ear on the trio in the kitchen. Connie doubted either of the babies could get all the way up there on his or her own, yet she didn’t trust them not to. Petey and Chris, each with clean teeth and bright smiles, had gone outside with a collection of action figures.

  “You go with Moose,” Max told Derek, “and—”

  “How come I get him again?” Derek asked. “He might be getting tired of me.”

  “Or vice versa,” Moose said mildly.

  Max gave Derek a level look. “You get him because you might be able to take me, one on one,” he explained candidly. He didn’t appear bothered by the thought. “But I don’t think you can take him. So you get Moose, and Connie goes with me.” He looked toward the drawer that held the empty gun. “She’s formidable enough,” he added under his breath.

  Connie looked at the tube of toothpaste. She didn’t feel very formidable.

  Max returned to the day’s agenda. “Aunt Connie and I will take the van. The neighbors are used to it and shouldn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. We’ll go to the kids’ house to get what they need. Whatever you want, Uncle Dare, tell her now.”

  “Just bring my whole suitcase,” Derek said, unruffled. “I never unpacked.”

  Connie nodded, still staring at the toothpaste. She wondered how he could look so crisp when he hadn’t even bothered to unpack. Did the clothes make the man, or had he somehow managed to turn that around? “Okay,” she said. “Where—”

  “Under the cot. And bring back the cheese grater and a colander.” He paused, then added, “Too bad you can’t pack up the microwa
ve.”

  “What’s a colander?” Max asked.

  Derek gave him a curious look but didn’t respond.

  “It drains noodles and stuff,” Moose explained. “I asked for lasagna for tonight.”

  Derek ran his hand over his beard stubble. “And check the bathroom. I don’t know if I left my razor in there or if I put it away. And my toothbrush is in there, too. The red one.”

  Connie made a mental note to bring back all the toothpaste she could find.

  “Do you want to take the twins or Chris?” Max asked.

  “Chris,” Derek said quickly.

  Good, Connie thought.

  “Then you might as well take Petey, too. And let them choose a treat.”

  Once plans were concluded, Connie and Max each carried a baby out to the van and fastened them in their seats. Foremost in her mind was the thought of a luxurious shower and a fresh change of clothing once they returned to the farmhouse. As she put the key in the ignition, she realized with a mental start that she was no longer afraid of the situation but had accepted it and their captors. And at some point between last night and this morning, Derek had apparently arrived at the same frame of mind.

  As she sat still behind the wheel, mulling things over, she became aware of Max watching her. He seemed wary with her inaction, puzzled and suspicious. She shrugged at him, turned the key, got the van in motion, and drove out of there.

  She put the babies in their cribs while she packed, furnishing them with toys, and was grateful not to get any complaints. Max kept a close eye on her as she chose their things, but she ignored him. She continued on into the kitchen.

  When she pulled open the drawer to get the cheese grater, her gaze fell on the cellular phone. She no longer feared her captors, but neither did she like being a captive. Wondering what her chances were of casually adding the phone to the box of supplies, she glanced at Max. His gaze was also on the instrument, then his eyes coolly met hers and she gave up that idea. She closed the drawer and found the colander in an upper cabinet.

  “Oh, that’s what it is,” Max said. “We used to have one of those. Petey used it at the stream, panning for gold, so I put it in with the fishing gear.”