by Debby Giusti
The ladies’ restroom was located at the end of the entrance hall. He glanced into the dining area. Two men sat at the counter, their backs to the door.
An elderly couple followed Pete inside. The man headed for the dining area while the woman stepped toward the restroom.
“Ma’am? I’m traveling with a woman who’s seven months pregnant, and she may not feel well.” Pete pointed to the ladies’ room. “If she’s in the restroom, would you tell her I’m waiting for her?”
The woman raised her brow, but didn’t comment as she stepped into the ladies’ room.
Within seconds, the door reopened and she peered out. “No one’s in here.”
Anxiety tugged at Pete. Meredith had joked about running away. Surely, she hadn’t taken off on her own?
His eyes scanned the nearby wooded area, hoping to spot some sign of her as he hustled back to the gas station. He’d drive around the property and see if he could find her, maybe in the picnic area nestled in front of the clump of trees at the end of the access road.
As he neared his Jeep, he caught sight of her bottom half poking out of the open door of a minivan. Untangling herself from the car, Meredith spied him and smiled.
“I made a new friend in the restaurant.” She pointed to a woman who waved from the rear seat of the van. “She was getting milk for her kids and needed some help. We took the long way around the gas station back to her car.”
Pete peered inside and counted three kids, none of whom looked school age.
“Can I help?” he asked.
“You must be the lucky father-to-be. Congratulations.” The woman hefted a toddler into his arms. “Hold Taylor while I buckle Madison into her car seat.”
The child eyed Pete warily.
“Hey there, little guy.”
Taylor blinked twice, then wrapped his chubby arms around Pete’s neck. “Da-Da?”
The woman laughed. “No, honey. You’ll see Daddy once his plane lands.”
“Janet’s husband is flying into Hunter Army Airfield after a thirteen-month deployment.” Meredith reached for the tired and cranky big sister who clutched a baby doll almost as tall as she was.
Taylor nuzzled Pete’s neck, bringing a smile to his lips. He liked the feel of holding a child in his arms. The little tyke was a solid lump of love.
What had Janet said? Lucky father-to-be?
She’d jumped to the wrong conclusion.
Not that Pete objected.
He looked at Meredith, who was busy distracting the little girl with questions about her doll.
A strange feeling spread through Pete that had nothing to do with the toddler and everything to do with Meredith.
Spunky and determined, she made him laugh in spite of her problems. Plus, she was beautiful and, from what he’d seen so far, would make a good mom.
Too bad she’d have to raise her little one without help. Every child needed a dad. But the thought of another guy moving into Meredith’s life pricked at Pete’s good mood.
Truth be told, he wouldn’t mind taking on the job of surrogate dad himself. Although he wasn’t sure Meredith would approve.
She tickled the little girl’s tummy, and the sound of their laughter flowed over Pete, along with the memory of his empty apartment and the nights he came home to nothing except a frozen pizza or fast-food burgers and fries.
Once the three kids were buckled into their car seats, the woman waved goodbye and aimed the minivan toward the interstate.
Pete was silent as he and Meredith climbed back into his Jeep.
Something had changed. A closed door deep within his core had cracked open. A door he’d kept sealed off from the world.
Being with Meredith and the nice family on their way to reconnect with their military dad had made him even more aware of the void in his own life.
His career and his research were usually all that mattered to him.
But, right now, more than anything else, Pete longed for a family of his own.
Tired as she was, and despite the hypnotic hum of the tires over the road as Pete drove through the night, Meredith couldn’t sleep.
Her emotions were getting ahead of her. Probably the nesting instinct triggered by that sweet family at the gas station. At least those children had a father. But what about her baby?
She glanced at Pete. His right hand gripped the wheel, his left lay against the armrest. He sat straight, his eyes focused on the road.
As concerned as he’d been about her health and the safety of her baby, she had little doubt that he’d make a great dad. Watching him hold the toddler in his arms had confirmed that fact.
Plus he’d gone out of his way to help her—a woman he’d only just met. Initially, she thought his actions were based on his relationship with Eve, but what he’d done had gone beyond helping a friend.
For an instant, she wished she could be the woman who someday would capture his heart.
Although as little as she knew about him, Pete could already have a special someone. If there was another woman in his life, she certainly was one lucky lady.
“Savannah’s not far. We’ll stop there.”
Pete turned to catch her gaze. Their eyes met, jolting her equilibrium.
“I’m okay,” she quickly answered, trying to cover up the mixed signals her body was sending her.
“You keep saying that, Meredith, but you need to rest. Think of the baby.”
As if she thought of anything else.
“There’s a woman I know,” he said. “She’ll take us in.”
“An old girlfriend?”
The question slipped out without forethought. Meredith and Pete had only just met, yet helping the woman at the rest stop had united them in a common goal and filled her with a sense of connection. Something else stirred within her. A heightened attraction to the man sitting in the driver’s seat.
“Actually, she’s a friend of Eve’s,” Pete answered.
Meredith shook her head. “I told you, I don’t want to see my mother.”
“Understood.” He glanced her way, his eyes filled with compassion.
“Sheila started the VHL Institute years ago to help her son who had the disease. Eve worked with her.” Pete shrugged. “They were old friends from grammar school days.”
“How’s her son?”
Pete let out a lungful of air. “Brice died eight months ago.”
Back to reality. Forget what had happened at the rest stop.
Meredith’s buoyed spirit deflated with the realization of the seriousness of the disease she could have and could then pass on to her baby.
Sheila had tried to save her son and failed.
What about Eve? Was she trying to save Meredith or merely assuaging her own guilt?
Pete insisted that Eve had thought she was doing what was best for her baby girl when she’d given Meredith up for adoption.
If only she could believe him.
“It’s the middle of the night, Pete. We can’t just knock on someone’s door and say we need a place to stay.”
“Yeah, we can. Sheila’s a great lady. You’ll like her.”
And you’ll like your mother, she waited for him to add. But Pete turned his attention back to the road.
Meredith rested her head against the seat. She had to admit that she was tired. Exhausted was a more accurate description.
She’d gratefully accept the woman’s hospitality for one night. But in the morning, she’d take off on her own.
What would she tell Pete? Thanks for all your help, but I’ll go it alone from now on?
Maybe she’d leave when he wasn’t watching. Meredith hated being secretive after he’d done so much for her, but she had to protect her baby, and going to Atlanta wasn’t on her agenda right now. Sometime in the future, when she had her feet on the ground, and she and the baby were doing okay, then she could consider reconnecting with her mother.
But Pete had said Eve was dying. If she waited too long, she’d miss the opportunity t
o see the woman who had given her life.
Pete left the north–south expressway and turned onto another thoroughfare that led into the city.
Signs of urban decline confirmed that, just like other metropolitan areas, people in Savannah worked hard to eke out a living. Rooms to rent and boarded-up storefronts were signs of the times. Not what Meredith had expected, but even Southern jewels like Savannah weren’t immune to poverty and despair.
“We’re almost in the historic district.”
“You come here often?” she asked.
“When I was stationed at Fort Stewart with the army, I’d head for the city whenever I had a three-day pass.” He smiled. “I’ve always loved history. You’ll see some of the sights as we get close to Sheila’s home. She owns an historic house just off Lafayette Square.”
Pete’s voice was filled with delight as he pointed out landmarks. “The riverfront…the oldest AME church in America…the Green-Meldrim House where General Sherman had his headquarters after his March to the Sea.”
Despite her fatigue, Meredith could feel his excitement and for a few minutes she forgot about everything that had happened in the last few days.
He turned onto a street where gaslights flickered.
Even in the wee hours of the morning, the charm of the beautiful old homes in the historic district made her breath catch.
Pete pulled to the curb in front of a three-story Federal-style house. A wrought-iron double stairway led to the front door where a pair of bronze lions stood guard. A small front garden was awash with azaleas and cherry trees, their tiny buds bursting into bloom.
“Stay here, while I talk to Sheila.” Pete left the Jeep and headed up the steps.
Meredith watched him raise the large brass knocker. The door cracked open and a woman wrapped in a terry cloth robe gave him a quick hug, then waved to Meredith.
He hustled back to the car, grabbed her overnight bag and helped her onto the sidewalk.
“Sheila’s happy to put us up for the night,” he said.
The gracious hostess stepped onto the porch to greet Meredith with a warm hug. “I’m so glad Pete brought you here. Your mother’s a dear friend of mine. Now let’s get inside. You must be exhausted. I’ve got a room ready. If you’re hungry, I can prepare something to eat.”
Sheila was about Meredith’s height and probably in her mid-forties. She wore her hair in a short bob and her smile was genuine when she wrapped her arm around Meredith and walked with her into the elaborately furnished home.
A spiral staircase, thick Oriental rugs, polished hardwood floors and elegant period furniture made Meredith think of another era long ago.
“Pete, take Meredith’s bag to the room at the top of the stairs. You can stay at the end of the hall, third door on the left.”
Sheila showed Meredith into a room on the second floor where a poster bed covered in a thick comforter and plush pillows beckoned her forward.
“There’s a basket of guest toilette supplies on the dresser. Soap, shampoo, cream. Let me know if you need anything else. Sleep as long as you can in the morning. I’ll keep breakfast warm for you.”
Once she was alone, Meredith stretched out on the luxurious bedding, too tired to change out of the clothes she was wearing. She pulled the comforter over her legs and started to slip into a deep sleep.
The last thing she thought of before the darkness settled was seeing Pete’s face as he’d pulled her from the wrecked auto. Instead of fear, she felt longing.
SEVEN
The next morning, Pete found Sheila in the enclosed courtyard at the rear of the house. He crossed the flagstone patio to where she sat at the wrought-iron table.
“Pour yourself a cup of coffee.” She indicated the silver urn on the side cart. “The basket contains pastries. I can fix eggs if you’d like something heartier.”
He smiled with appreciation. “A couple croissants and coffee will be fine.” Once he filled his mug, he carried his plate to the table and sat in a chair across from her.
Sheila’s brow was furrowed and tiny lines creased the corners of her eyes. She looked tired and older than he remembered. Probably a result of the grief she carried from losing her son to VHL.
“I’m so sorry about Brice.”
“Thanks for that nice note you sent with the flowers.”
“You did everything you could for him, Sheila.”
She looked down at her coffee and ran her finger over the rim of the cup. “I wanted to find a cure to save my son. That’s why I started the Institute.”
“You’ve heightened awareness. There’s been more interest, more research.”
“Only because of Brice and the others who suffer as he did, not from any effort on my part.” She pulled her bottom lip through her teeth and shook her head ever so slightly. “It’s a terrible disease that knows no boundaries. I always wished I had been the one with VHL. For the longest time, I feared he had inherited it from me.”
“Eve said you were tested and didn’t carry the defective gene.”
“Brice was one of the few people to get VHL sporadically. ‘Chosen by God,’ he used to joke.” Her voice caught. “I can’t talk to Eve about it.”
“She’s strong, Sheila. Eve knows what her future holds.”
“Right now, losing Brice is all the pain I can bear. I can’t add any more.” She looked at him across the table. “Does that make sense?”
“It’s because you and Eve are so close.”
“That’s why I want to protect her.”
Just as he wanted to protect Meredith.
Sheila’s eyes were filled with questions. “Eve says her faith and her suffering make her stronger. I wish I could believe what she tells me. But it’s hard. If God has the power to change lives, why didn’t He cure my son?”
The same question Pete asked himself concerning Eve.
“Eve told me the dark times come from our human condition,” Sheila continued. “But God can bring light into the darkness. She said Brice is now free of disease and pain and the uncertainty of when or where the next tumor will appear. He’s whole and healthy and surrounded by everything good. She called it the fullness of eternal life.”
“Did her words help?”
“They brought peace. I still grieve for my son, but I no longer worry about him. Can you understand that?”
“I’m not sure.”
He pulled the china cup to his mouth and took a long swig of the hot coffee. What about Meredith? Did she have VHL? Would she learn that her baby was affected as well?
Seemed that a loving God wouldn’t let an innocent child be stricken with a fatal condition.
“I’m not sure I can believe in anything except what I can influence, Sheila.”
He glanced up at the bedroom window where Meredith was sleeping. If he couldn’t save Eve, maybe his research might benefit Meredith and her unborn child.
And what about God?
Would Pete ask for His help?
Not now.
Maybe not ever.
Meredith woke to bright sunlight pouring through the window. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. 11:00 a.m. She hadn’t slept that soundly or that late in months.
Usually she lay awake for hours listening for trucks that drove too slowly, or settling floorboards that sounded like someone walking in the house, or wind that reminded her of when the police had stood at her door and told her Ben was dead.
She shook her head ever so slightly. This wasn’t the time to look back.
Throwing the comforter aside, Meredith glanced out the window to the garden where Pete and Sheila were deep in conversation.
Pete sat in a band of light that filtered through the trees. A breeze ruffled the collar of his shirt. He raised his right hand for emphasis as he spoke to Sheila, his brow wrinkled, his gaze serious.
For an instant, Meredith imagined the clean scent of his aftershave and the strength of purpose she could almost hear in his voice.
Her night’s re
st was thanks to Sheila’s generous hospitality and Pete’s determination to find her a safe haven, at least for one night.
Meredith appreciated his calm persistence to ensure her well-being and was touched by his concern for her safety.
“I’ll take care of you,” he’d said to her.
Her adoptive father used the same words when he shoved her in the basement closet where she’d whimper with fear, not knowing if he’d ever return to set her free again.
In his twisted mind, the closet was a safe place. At least that’s what her adoptive mother had claimed.
But then Hazel Collins never admitted that they lived with a psychotic man who controlled every aspect of their lives.
When Hazel died, Meredith had escaped. Forced to act because of her adoptive father’s rage.
Not that she could tell Pete what had happened that night. Not that she could tell anyone.
That phase of her life was over. At least, she prayed it was.
Meredith peered outside again, her eyes drawn to Pete. Gratitude swept over her.
Savannah was far from Refuge Bay. The men would never search for her in such elegant surroundings.
She glanced around the room, unaccustomed to so many comforts. Her fingers touched the thick terry cloth towel set Sheila had placed on the dresser. She smiled. Sometimes it was nice to be spoiled.
Once Meredith was out of the shower and had changed into a comfortable pantsuit with an elastic waist that provided ample room for her growing baby, she gathered her personal items and returned them to her tote.
Picking up her cell, she tapped in the mechanic’s number and left another message concerning her car.
When the repairs were completed, Meredith would make a quick trip back to Refuge Bay to pick up her automobile. Surely the thugs would have given up their search for her by then.
What did they want from her? To ensure that she wouldn’t go to the police? But she had nothing to tell them.
She tucked the knife and her cell phone in her pocket and shoved her purse into her overnight bag, then zipped it shut.
Meredith planned to stash her bag downstairs by the front door. If an opportunity arose, she could slip out of the house without having to run back upstairs to retrieve her things.