“Even her eyes?”
“That can’t be helped. Really, Sherman, we must look at the good side of things.”
“I am, and you are right. She’s a special girl.”
Tawnia sat frozen, wondering at what she had heard. Birth mother? What did that mean? And what was wrong with her eyes? She stood and walked to the doorway of the closet. Her parents were kissing right there in front of her, and they never did that.
Her mother looked over and saw her. She drew away from her husband. “Tawnia, what are you doing here? I thought you went to your room to play.”
Tawnia tried to point to her Barbies to explain, but the words wouldn’t come. “What’s a birth mother?” she said instead.
They had explained then what adoption was, and for a week Tawnia had been scared that something terrible was going to happen. That maybe her birth mother would come to snatch her away. But the week passed, and nothing unusual occurred, so she put it in the back of her mind.
She was eight before she realized what they had meant about her eyes, and by age ten she’d been fitted for a contact lens to hide the defect.
These chips were doing nothing for her hunger. She’d have to put in the pizza she’d bought. A nice one with thick green peppers and mushrooms and sausage. Hopefully the precooked crust wasn’t too awful.
She’d changed into black stretch pants and a T-shirt and barely sat down to eat the pizza when her phone began ringing. Her parents probably.
Or maybe it was Bret.
Tripping over the legs of her chair, she scrambled to her feet to reach her purse in the living room. Please don’t hang up. Her hand closed over the phone. She checked the caller ID. It was Bret!
“Hello?” She tried not to sound out of breath.
“Tawnia.”
“Hi. Who’s this?” She faked nonchalance.
“Bret.”
“Oh, hi, Bret. How’s Nevada?”
“It was fine when I left.”
“Left?”
“Yeah. I’m in Portland. That’s part of why I’m calling. I, uh, got called in to do an independent review of the collapse of the Hawthorne Bridge.”
“You did?” She should have known. He loved overwater bridges and had been quite chummy with some of the county officials they’d met last year during their visit.
“Yeah. Odd, huh? The county called when it happened and invited me to come.”
He loved bridges, that was true, but could he have also come partly because of her? No, she shouldn’t assume anything. It had to be only because of the bridges. Those were his passion. “The company I work for is doing publicity on the bridge,” she told him. “Not my team, but a group from my company.” If she’d won the account, she could have interviewed Bret extensively. It might have taken days. Longer, if she stretched it out.
Stop, she told herself. There was a reason she’d left Nevada, and Bret figured into that. No use clinging to a relationship that was going nowhere.
“I heard something about a marketing firm. Didn’t know it was yours.”
“Interesting stuff. So why did the bridge collapse?”
“To tell the truth, I haven’t a clue. It shouldn’t have. Nothing adds up.”
“The public won’t buy that.”
“I know. I’ll have to go with the best theory in the end. I haven’t visited the other bridges yet, but I’ll do that this week. They want to be sure the rest are safe.”
“That would go a long way toward helping the county. I hear they’ve already got lawsuits brought against them. You’ll probably be called as a witness.”
Bret sighed. “Probably.”
“So.” She walked back into the kitchen and sat down at the table. Was he going to ask her out? Or did he just call to talk? She nibbled on the edge of her pizza.
“Look, Tawnia, I have a little problem, and I need help.”
The air rushed from her chest. He needed help. Of course. A man in a strange city has a problem, and he calls the one person he knows for help. He wasn’t calling to say that he’d made the biggest mistake of his life. Or to admit that he couldn’t live without her. “What’s wrong?” she asked, keeping all expression from her voice.
“Honestly, I wouldn’t have called you if I hadn’t thought you’d want to know. I would have taken her to the clinic, or something, except for her . . . well, you have to see for yourself.”
“What are you talking about? I don’t understand.”
“It’s this woman. She was on the bridge when it fell. Her father’s one of the missing people, and she goes there every day in the hope that they’ll find him. I took her to a clinic last night and found she’d actually broken her arm in the fall. For three days she’d gone around with that arm. It’s really sad. And now she’s got a fever, and I don’t know what to do. She’s dirty. Needs a bath. I don’t think she’s combed her hair since the collapse.”
“Doesn’t she have friends?” Tawnia didn’t want to feel pity for this woman who was apparently important enough to Bret that he would call and ask for her help.
“I’ve seen a guy who works in her father’s store and a fireman who pulled her from the river. If there’s anyone else, I don’t know about them. I only know her because I’m snooping around to find clues about what really happened.”
His words made Tawnia shiver. “What do you mean? Is there something about the bridge you’re not telling me?”
“No. Or at least I don’t think so. I’m trying to find out.”
“Take the girl to the clinic then.”
“I would but, really, Tawnia, I think you should come. There’s something I want to show you.”
“About her?”
“Yes.”
“Can’t you just tell me?”
“I’d rather you see for yourself.”
This was getting stranger by the moment.
“So are you going to help me here? We’re at a shop right now, and she won’t tell me where she lives. The only other thing I can do is take her back to my hotel. It might not get her clean, but I can’t leave her here alone.”
Oh, so that’s how it was. Tawnia knew the type. No doubt the dyed-haired, overly made up girl in risque clothing would pretend to be helpless until she got her hooks into Bret, and then he’d pay in a hundred ways. As miffed as she was at him this minute, she couldn’t let that happen. He was such an innocent in the ways of the world. “Where are you?”
“At a place called Autumn’s Antiques. Got a paper? I’ll give you the address. It’s next to an herb shop and across from a restaurant called Smokey’s. Maybe you know it.”
“Smokey’s? I’ve been there.” Her stomach growled at the thought of those delicious meat pies. For all his conniving, Dustin had at least given her that.
“Can you find your way here?” Bret’s voice showed his doubt.
“I work near there.”
“Good, because I’m sort of tied up here. I don’t know what I’d do if you got lost and I had to come and find you.” There was a hint of laughter in his voice, and Tawnia steeled herself against it. So what if he remembered how hopeless she was at finding addresses? It didn’t mean anything.
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes, twenty-five tops.” That was allowing for a few wrong turns, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Thanks, Tawnia. I really appreciate it. And I’m really looking forward to seeing you.”
She froze. Had he actually said that? Or had it been her wishful thinking? Well, it didn’t matter because she wasn’t going to dwell on it. “I’ll see you in a bit.” She hung up.
Taking a huge bite of pizza, she clumped around the kitchen, placing dishes in the sink and making sure the oven was off. “I can’t believe this,” she complained through sausage and peppers. “Three months since we’ve spoken, and now he suddenly calls me to help with this girl. Would he have even called me if he hadn’t met this tramp? He’s just a stupid, stupid man. I hate men!” She stood over the garbage can with the rest of her
pizza but then took another huge bite and another. No use in letting a man ruin perfectly good sausage and cheese. Crust wasn’t that bad, either. She’d have to remember the brand name.
Gathering her purse, she was nearly out to her car when she noticed what she was wearing. Her mother’s voice ran through her head. “No, dear, that’s not what to wear when you want to impress a man.” In this case she was probably right, and the last thing Tawnia wanted was to look like a frump when she saw Bret. Three more minutes were lost as she changed to chocolate cords and a white shirt topped with a thin, multicolored sweater. This was more attractive, at least, though it made her look about twenty.
She drove from the bungalow, running a brush through her hair to freshen her look. A bit of lipstick once she arrived would be the final touch.
Like I even care what he thinks.
But she did care, and that was the part she couldn’t figure out. They had decided it wouldn’t work between them.
No, he had decided.
But she had agreed.
It was that simple. She moved on, as she had at other times with other men in her life. When something wasn’t working, it didn’t pay to hold on, to get in too deeply that others became involved. Others, like children. Better to call it quits before that sort of complication entered the equation.
All the streets looked different at night, but just when she had begun to suspect that she was lost she spied Smokey’s, the sign illuminating the street. From the look of the place, the restaurant was completely crowded. Maybe after she helped Bret with this girl, they could swing by for something to eat. Bret was a man who didn’t mind that she could outeat him.
Smiling, she drove down the street until she found an open spot to park. Good thing it was a Tuesday and not a weekend, or she would probably have been out of luck.
She looked into the mirror, checking her hair and applying lipstick. She was ready. It was then she noticed she was wearing the navy pumps she’d worn to work and they didn’t match her brown outfit.
Well, it was dark. Besides, what did anyone expect being called out on an emergency like this? She was lucky she had shoes on at all. Good thing her mother wasn’t here.
She had to walk half a block to get back to the antiques shop. All the other shops nearby were closed, but there was a light on in the rear of Autumn’s Antiques. As she approached, the glass door swung open.
“Tawnia!” Bret looked good. Instead of his usual dress pants and shirt, he wore jeans, work boots, and a blue T-shirt that made his eyes bluer and his hair blonder. She didn’t have time to take in more before he whisked her into a hug. Not a careful hug between acquaintances but one that showed he was glad to see her. She tried not to let that become important because she understood that his motives were mixed at best and completely selfish at worst, though she had never considered him selfish before. But wasn’t that what it was called when you were too wrapped up in your own pain to care about how much you hurt others?
“Bret,” she murmured as he set her back to look at her. His eyes ran over every part of her face as though starved for the sight. The intensity frightened her because she had the distinct sensation that he wasn’t really seeing her.
“I was right,” he said.
“What?”
“Come on. You’ll see.” He pulled her inside the store, his hand locked onto hers.
“Bret, what’s going on?” She was beginning to feel frightened, though Bret had never before given her any reason to fear for her safety. Had he become someone entirely different over the past three months?
“Her name’s Autumn. I met her yesterday. She’s the one who’s sick. Only there’s more than that, Tawnia, and I think it has something to do with you.” They were at the back of the store now, and she could see the light coming from an open door leading to some kind of back room. The rest of the store was dim and filled with old furniture and knickknacks. She felt as if she were in some kind of museum in the middle of the night.
He’d stopped and was staring at her again, outlined as she was by the light from the back room. “You’re wearing your contact.”
“I just got home from work. Sort of.” She felt it was an excuse, though her choices were absolutely none of his business. So what if she hadn’t been wearing the contact on the day they’d first met? Christian had that effect on people. You wanted to be unusual around him. You wanted to stand out—even if you’d spent your life trying to be ordinary. Normal.
Bret’s hand reached out and slid along the curve of her cheek, but he said nothing, and she didn’t know what to say, either. She’d thought they had said it all, and yet the connection she felt here was almost tangible. How long they stood like that, she couldn’t say. She didn’t care if it was forever.
Bret gave his head a sharp jerk. “Autumn’s in here. Oh, and this is her store.” He waved a hand at the shadowy objects that seemed more menacing by the minute. “She was born in Portland, or so she says. I don’t know if that’s true.” His hand was on her back, burning fire into her skin as they went through the narrow door together.
Immediately Tawnia saw the woman lying on her side on an easy chair, her face away from the door. The foot rest was open, but she had her feet pulled up to the seat and tucked under the blanket that was covering her. She was thin, that much Tawnia could see despite the blanket. She had short brown hair, dyed red on top, and her face was flushed. The illness didn’t seem to be an act; the woman shivered with fever.
Tawnia walked around to the other side, her hand out to touch the woman’s forehead, a silly gesture because she really had no idea what a fever felt like. In the next instant she froze as she saw the woman’s face. The upturned nose, the angle of the cheekbones, the chin—everything was familiar. Sharper than she was accustomed too, but familiar. Too familiar. Shock crashed over Tawnia.
“Autumn, I brought a friend to help you.” Bret touched the woman’s shoulder.
Her eyes opened, and Tawnia received another shock. Her muscles were still frozen in place, but she heard a gasp escape her lips. Those were her eyes.
The mismatched eyes blinked, but they didn’t appear to see Tawnia. They fluttered closed. Slowly, Tawnia leaned closer, grabbing the top edge of the chair for support.
“She’s adopted,” Bret said. “Just like you. At first I thought she was you. That you’d changed your hair, lost too much weight, but she didn’t know me, and after talking to her, I realized there are a lot of differences in speech and stuff. But there’s a lot alike, too. A couple of times I forgot she wasn’t you.”
“How old is she?” Tawnia’s voice came out a whisper. Her world had tilted into something unexplainable.
“I don’t know. This is only the second time I’ve seen her. We spent several hours getting her arm set last night. We talked then, but age never came up. Do you think you and she could be related?”
Tawnia wanted to say no, but how could she? She knew nothing of her birth parents or how many other children, cousins, or siblings they might have. “I don’t know. It’s possible, but I’ve heard of unrelated people looking like each other.”
“This close?” He sounded doubtful. “Tawnia, you could be twins.”
“We need to get her into a bed somewhere.”
“Where?”
“My house.”
Bret met her gaze. “Are you sure?”
“Well, I’m trusting you that she’s not an axe murderer.”
A smile tugged at his lips. “I don’t think so. But she’s pretty messed up. Her mother died a long time ago, and now her father’s missing. He was on the bridge with her.” His voice lowered. “And you know what that means.”
“Autumn?” Tawnia gently shook her shoulder until the eyes opened again. “I’m Tawnia, and I’m going to help you. Will you come with me?”
Autumn sighed and shut her eyes.
“You’re just going to have to carry her to my car,” Tawnia told Bret.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t take her to th
e hospital?”
“It’s just a fever. She’ll probably be a lot better in the morning. My mother always says that you can have a fever for three days before it’s really serious. At least if you’re not throwing up or having other symptoms.”As an afterthought, she added, “Does she have other symptoms?”
“I’m just tired.”
They both looked at Autumn, who had opened her eyes again and was struggling to sit up. “You don’t have any pain?” Bret asked.
“Just my arm.” She patted the brace.
“You don’t have any dizziness or sensitivity to light?” Tawnia asked, trying to remember what her mother asked her every time she had the flu, even though if Autumn said yes, she wouldn’t know what to do except take her to the doctor.
Autumn shook her head slowly. “No. Just really tired. I have a few more pills left from those the clinic gave me. I feel weird when I take them, but it kills the pain.”
“Where are they?” Bret began looking around.
“Bathroom. On the sink.”
He found the pills, filled up a glass of water, and handed one to her. “I think you should go with Tawnia. She lives nearby. You can clean up at her house.”
“I have to be at the river tomorrow.”
“I work near here,” Tawnia said. “I’ll bring you back.”
“Okay.” Autumn let her eyes shut.
Bret had to pull her up from the chair. “Come on, then.” To Tawnia, he added, “I’ll follow you to make sure you get her settled.”
Tawnia was glad. She found she was having second thoughts about taking this woman in, even for one night. There could be dozens of unseen repercussions.
Why does she look so much like me?
“You could be twins,” Bret had said.
Twins. That was impossible, and yet as Tawnia stared at Autumn, she felt something move within her. Tears gathered in her eyes.
“Are you okay?” Bret asked, struggling to balance Autumn on her feet.
Tawnia nodded. “Do you see anything she might need?”
“I don’t know. This is the first time I’ve been here.”
Eyes of a Stanger Page 11