Chapter Twenty-Nine
Lizzie had stumbled to a stop in front of the small outbuilding near their lake. Opening its door with trembling hands, she went inside and fell to her knees, overwhelmed by the loss of her family. With her head in her hands she gasped repeatedly for air. When her breathing calmed to a series of tiny shudders, she lifted her head, pushing her hair back from her face before looking around her. Oh, the hours of planning Zach had put into this shed.
”Shed! This isn’t a shed!” The mock outrage in his voice caused her to laugh even harder as he scooped her up in his arms and carried her inside, seating them both on the hard wooden bench. “This is the Team Weston equipment room, woman.” He growled low in his throat, nuzzling her neck, and her laughter gave way to passion as they properly christened the new addition to their property.
Wiping tears from her eyes with the backs of her hands, she ran her fingers lovingly over the names of her husband and children, remembering the care with which Zach had carved them. No carpenter was good enough for the task—it had to be done personally. She’d loved the results, from the little gouge in the “Z” to the lopsided “D” in Daniel. Finally turning her attention to her own nook, she reached inside and removed her skates, lost in her memories.
Oblivious to the cold, she walked outside and sat on the bench beside the lake. Zach…she felt close to him here, close to her family, here in this winter paradise that they’d built. Although she knew her actions were illogical, she returned to the shed with a sense of purpose to gather Zach’s skates as well. She hurried back to the bench, kicked off her shoes, and pulled on her skates.
Zach had promised to take her skating as soon as she was ready. Well, she was ready now—and he always kept his promises.
When she rose to wobble toward the lake, unsteady on the unfamiliar blades, she set his skates next to the bench, where he would be sure to find them.
…
Zach burst into the clearing and stopped. Snow swirled in the wind. An eerie glow from the full moon reflected off the lake. His heart clenched when he saw her standing alone on the ice. Tears glistened on her checks.
His breath caught in his throat, and he stood frozen by the unreality of the night. As in his dreams, moonlight caressed her skin. The night wind lifted her hair, and the curls blew wild and unchecked, like her sorrow.
“Lizzie!” he cried, only to have the words carried away by the wind.
Time suspended, he watched as she stumbled onto the ice and began to skate with careful steps toward the center of the lake.
He started to call her name again and then hesitated. There was something about her. Something otherworldly, something almost frightening.
Advancing toward the edge of the lake, he watched her make her way awkwardly across the ice, clearly uncomfortable in her skates.
He trod carefully across the ice, closing the distance between them with long strides. When he stopped in front of her, she stared unseeing into the distance, lost in her own world, shivering in her light jacket. He wrapped his arms around her trembling frame.
“Lizzie…” Lizzie. For the first time since he awoke in the clinic, he addressed his wife by her true name, and it felt right. He inhaled a shaky breath. Lizzie.
Even as he savored this moment, his eyes scanned the trees for danger.
Her luminous eyes focused on him and her face lit with happiness. “Zach…” His name slipped out on a sigh and lingered in a silence fraught with anticipation. She raised one cold hand to caress his face. He searched her eyes, running his fingers along the curve of her cheek, wiping away tears while he held her close.
She rose on tiptoe, her legs unsteady on her skates. Pressing her lips to his, she kissed him, stopping when he failed to respond. She pulled back as he again scanned the tree line. Her smile faltered. Pushing away from him, she looked in confusion at the running shoes on his feet and swallowed hard. “Zach…?”
The questioning plea in her voice broke his heart. Running his hands up and down her arms to warm her, he whispered, “Shhh, it’s okay.” He stripped off his overcoat and wrapped it around her, helping place her arms in the long sleeves and turning her so that he could button the garment. She kept her head bowed, eyes on his hands while he fumbled blindly with the buttons. He lowered his head to rest against her fragrant hair, grateful that she was safe.
When he stepped back, she raised her head to look at him closely and the last remnant of joy faded from her face as she acknowledged him, “Thomas.”
Thomas.
That one despondent word pierced his heart. He turned her gently and guided her toward shore. “Come on, let’s get you out of the cold.” Head down, she went without speaking, moved where he directed her, accepted his support to steady her. When they finally reached their destination, she sat on the bench, looking blankly out at the frozen lake. The frigid wind whipped her hair with renewed intensity.
Chapter Thirty
Lizzie was in shock.
Zach squatted in front of her and unlaced her skates. Removing the first one, he grimaced as he held her icy foot, protected only by a light sock. “Can you feel this?” He squeezed lightly, receiving no response. She continued to stare into the night. A lone tear traced a path down her cheek.
Without stopping to think about his actions, he rose to his feet and jogged to the shed, entering to find a series of nooks labeled Zach, Lizzie, Sam, and Daniel. Overwhelmed by this fresh evidence of their family unit, he forced himself to focus and grabbed warm socks and a pair of gloves from Lizzie’s nook, a blanket that lay folded neatly on a top shelf, and a pair of rubber boots that sat near the door. On his way out he stared at the plaque that hung above the door. Team Weston.
He sprinted back to the bench. Reluctant to stay out here where they were exposed, while also hesitant to take her back to the house before she had her emotions under control, he slipped the gloves on her hands and shoved the socks deep inside his own sleeves to warm them. Next he removed her other skate and both damp socks. Lifting his heavy sweatshirt and the shirt underneath, he placed her bare feet against his stomach, inhaling sharply at the icy cold touch.
Scooting as close to her as he could, he wrapped the blanket around her lower legs, enclosing her in warmth and protecting her from the wind. He slipped his hands under the heavy coat and massaged her legs.
“Lizzie, hey honey.” Again, he examined the surrounding area.
When she failed to respond, he continued to rub warmth into her calves and spoke in a soothing voice. “Thanks to you the kids are fine. Sam is asleep now, but we’re going to get her and take her home…uh, well I guess actually she is asleep in our home. It’s you and I who aren’t home yet.”
She turned to stare at him, blinking. He saw the moment she began to focus on him. Suddenly her eyes widened and fear etched fresh lines into her face. “Sam!” she gasped. “Alistair promised to take me to her but…”
“She’s fine. She’s in the house sleeping.”
“No, no one’s home.”
“Honey, Grant was home. He didn’t answer the door because he was with Sam. She’s been safe at home. Alistair lied to control you.”
“I need to see her.”
“Okay, we’ll go see her now…”
“Daniel…” she interrupted. “I…I left him…and you.”
“He’s fine, honey. Daniel’s fine, Sam is fine. We’re all fine…thanks to you.”
“No, no, no!” She shook her head, increasingly agitated as full awareness returned. His heart broke to see how emotional and physical exhaustion took its toll on rational thought. “I didn’t do enough…”
He looked at her in disbelief. “Didn’t do enough? You were amazing.”
When she continued to protest, looking frantically around her, he gently grasped her chin.
“Look at me,” he insisted. “Look at me.”
She looked at him reluctantly as the wildness receded from her eyes. She calmed, although her hands twisted restlessly in her lap and her brea
thing continued in shuddering rasps.
“You were amazing,” he repeated sincerely, dropping his hand to rest on hers, squeezing them reassuringly.
“I found your message on the crib rail.” He took a deep breath, remembering. “Run. And I found the photo.”
When she continued to watch him uncertainly, he nodded. “I read your note and understood your message—you were keeping your fingers crossed. You were so clever…so brave.”
She watched him intently, biting her lower lip.
“And I trusted you. So I took Daniel and ran.” He reached up to brush her hair from her face.
“Lizzie…everyone’s safe. Sam, Daniel, you, me. We’re all safe…” Somehow he managed to keep her feet tucked under his jacket and the blanket in place as he wrapped his arms around her, relieved when she accepted his embrace.
The tension gradually drained from her body until, finally, she relaxed.
…
Lizzie calmed, collapsing into her husband’s warmth as she absorbed the truth. Everyone was okay. Both of her children were safe. She exhaled in relief and then sucked in her breath. Her feet had begun to sting. “Ouch!”
Zach leaned back. “Are your feet starting to hurt?”
At her nod, he relaxed slightly. “That’s good.”
“Easy for you to say,” she snapped and frowned at the small smile that appeared on his face. “What?”
“Sorry, it’s just…it’s good to see you’re feeling better.” He massaged her feet through the layers of clothes. “What were you doing out there…on the ice?”
She looked out at the lake, embarrassed, and a small, sad smile graced her lips. “I was skating with Zach.”
He remained silent. The wistfulness of her reply hung in the air between them.
He reached up to touch her face. “Are you ready to head back?”
“Yeah, except I don’t have any shoes on.” She wiggled her toes, her eyes widening when he inhaled sharply. Suddenly aware that her naked toes rested against his bare skin, she stilled even as she yearned for more of the intimate contact.
He squeezed her fingers and then slipped his hands under the blanket, pulling socks from his jacket and enclosing her feet in the thick material, still warm from his body. Next, he grabbed the much-too-large boots, and placed them on her feet where they dangled precariously. Looking up, he saw her slight smile, and his lips curved in response.
“You make a good lady’s maid.”
“Wait until you see my transportation skills.”
“What…” Her question ended in a small gasp as he swept her up in his arms, dropping the blanket on top of her.
“Put me down. I can walk.”
“I know you can walk. However, at the moment, you don’t have any shoes that fit.” Holding her close, he nodded toward the blanket. “Tuck that blanket around your legs and feet.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted, her protest undercut by an involuntary shiver. “You’re the one without a coat. You take the blanket.” He stared at her until she finally reached down and tucked the blanket around her lower body. Settling back into his arms, she raised a questioning brow, and, with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, he headed toward the path.
Relaxing in his embrace, she thought about his tender care. The way he anticipated her needs, saw to her comfort, stubbornly waited until she agreed with the wisdom of his plan. He was so much like Zach.
Whatever his name, the man carrying her felt good. He felt right. She allowed herself a brief moment of contentment, imagining a world where they were together again, a family, happy and safe.
She nestled into his comforting embrace, soothed by the peaceful motion of his stride, and blocked out the growing sounds of chaos as they drew closer to home.
Chapter Thirty-One
Zach knew he should focus on the next actions required to keep his family safe, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that since the moment she’d looked into his eyes and found him wanting, she’d avoided calling him by his name. Zach.
As they neared the clearing, he saw the flashing lights through the trees and heard the elevated voices of strangers. He looked down to see that Lizzie had drifted into much-needed sleep.
Kissing her softly on her head, he let his lips linger before speaking near her ear, “Lizzie. Honey, wake up.”
“I’m awake,” she sighed sleepily. “I was just pretending…you know, that everything’s going to be okay.”
“Everything is going to be okay.”
She looked at him with doubtful eyes.
“Everything is going to be okay.” He emphasized each word and looked away for a moment before turning the full intensity of his gaze back to her. “I know I let you down these past weeks, but you can trust me.”
He felt the truth of his words being judged and braced for disappointment.
She rested one hand against his cheek, and he leaned into her caress. “I do trust you. I know you don’t remember, but together, you and I, we were a great team.”
Thinking about the plaque that hung in the equipment building, he gave her a little squeeze and vowed in a husky voice, “Team Weston.” Embarrassed, he blinked back the tears that threatened, and one corner of his mouth turned up ruefully. Now was not the time for emotional displays.
Taking an exaggerated deep breath that made her smile, he stepped from the trees.
“There they are!” Reade pointed at them as they left the shelter of the trees.
“Lizzie, Zach, what’s going on here?” An officer spoke loudly in an attempt to be heard over the other voices in their driveway, and Zach nodded at the man who apparently knew them. In addition to the three officers present, an ambulance had arrived, and the paramedics were examining someone on a stretcher.
Before either of them could answer, a black Jeep sped up the driveway, sliding to a stop a short distance from the crowd. The door flew open, and Kyle leaped out with a welcoming smile. “Hey, sis!”
Lizzie wiggled in Zach’s arms, losing her blanket in the process. “Put me down,” she commanded. His impatient wife launched herself into her brother’s arms.
After hugging her, Kyle pulled back and leaned down to kiss her cheek. “We were all so worried about you.” He looked at Zach, his smile faltering.
Zach stood silent, stoic, noting the awkwardness in this man he should have known, should have loved like family. He envied the closeness between his wife and her brother. Envied a bond based not only on blood, but on shared experiences and memories, both good and bad, a bond that went back further than mere weeks. “Kyle.”
Placing her hand on Kyle’s back, she gave him a not-so-subtle push. Taking her hint, he moved toward Zach and pulled him into a bear hug, thumping him on the back. “Welcome back, man.”
Zach hugged him awkwardly, then turned to answer the policeman’s earlier question. “A man claiming to be my father has been holding Lizzie, Daniel, and me on an island in the Atlantic. We escaped this morning, but he’s still out there.” As he spoke, he picked up the blanket and shook the snow from it. Standing in front of Lizzie, he wrapped it around her shoulders, pulled the edges together, and drew her toward him. “Why don’t you go into the house and see our daughter while I give the police more information?”
Lizzie studied his face, clearly measuring his trepidation. “Kyle can talk with the police. Why don’t we both see our daughter?”
He nodded and they walked hand in hand to the front door, where Grant waited.
“My God, Lizzie. I’m sorry. I should have answered the door. I was just trying to protect Sam.”
She shivered, then squared her shoulders and stepped forward, tugging Zach with her.
Before they could enter, a voice interrupted them. “Zach? Lizzie? I need to see if you can identify this guy before we take him in.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
When Lizzie saw the man on the stretcher, she gasped. Zach looked at her curiously. She could tell her husband didn’t recognize the
guy.
However, Grant did. “What the hell? This man…this is the guy in the ski mask?” His face flushed a deep red. “This man was Sam’s bodyguard.”
“You let this monster near Sam? He works for Alistair. He’s the man who kidnapped me!” Her voice rose to a shout. Hysteria threatened what remained of her control. “He’s the man who appeared in every video Alistair showed me of Sam!”
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “He’s the man who threatened to hurt Sam if I didn’t do what he said.” She launched herself at Jameson, stumbling in her too-large boots. She’d have fallen if Zach hadn’t caught her and held her tight.
“It’s okay, Lizzie. Remember Sam is safe now—because of you.”
She pushed away from him to hobble toward the injured man. Zach followed.
“Mr. Jameson.” Even to her, her voice sounded eerily calm.
“Well, well, well, if isn’t the little brat’s mom.” Jameson sneered and this time she succeeded in delivering two punches before Zach pulled her back.
“Ow! She hurt me! Look, I’m bleeding again. Damn bitch.”
Zach knocked the man out with one solid blow to the jaw. Policemen lunged forward.
Shrugging off the officers, he drew her close. “Let’s go get Sam.”
Grant stepped into their path, clearly shaken by what had just happened. “I…I was trying to keep Sam safe. I…”
“Weston checked the guy. He came up clean. His work history, his references. Everything checked out,” Reade added, his face pale.
As Lizzie absorbed this fresh evidence of Alistair’s power, Grant laid his hand on her arm and spoke quietly. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to drag Sam out of bed tonight. Look, I’m not trying to keep you from Sam, but it’s late and that maniac is still out there. Just think about it.” He moved aside.
The path to her daughter stood wide open, with Cole guarding the door, awaiting their entrance. She blinked back tears. It was time to reunite with her little girl.
…
As Lizzie stepped determinedly over the threshold, Zach felt the fine trembling in her hand. When Grant moved to follow, Zach blocked his path. “We don’t need a chaperone.” They’d had enough of being monitored to last a lifetime.
Comes the Night (Entangled Suspense) Page 17