by Kacey Linden
He let himself drift, until he heard a cry, over the roar of the flames.
“Cale!”
It was more of a scream, filled with anguish and desperation.
“Cale, where are you?”
Willow?
He had to be hallucinating. The smoke must have addled his brain. He pushed up on his elbows and tried to get to his feet, but failed.
And then he saw her. It really was Willow, running through the snow, her face lit by the flames, fear warring with relief as she crashed to her knees beside him.
“Willow.” He tried to say it, but he’d breathed in too much smoke. Her name came out raspy and weak, followed by harsh coughing.
“Cale! Don’t try to talk. Can you move? Can you breathe okay?” She stroked his face, his hair, stopping only to brush the tears from her cheeks. “We need to get you further from the house. Jake will send the paramedics, but we’re still too close.”
“Try,” he whispered, and sat up. Leaning heavily on Willow, he rolled to his knees.
“Oh Cale, what happened?” Willow gasped. She reached for the side of his head and he winced when she touched it. “I’m sorry!” She jerked her hand back. “There’s a lot of blood. You must have hit your head.”
“Fell off the roof,” he said hoarsely, and tried to grin, but started coughing again. When the coughing eased, he wobbled to his feet and managed to stagger a few more steps before he fell.
“That’s far enough,” Willow said quietly, and even Cale could hear the change in her voice. She was afraid. He felt her kneeling in the snow by his head as his vision began to go gray.
“Cale.”
He heard her, but it was hard to see her.
“Cale, stay with me, okay?” He heard a sob. “Cale, you can’t leave me now, do you hear me?” Her arms came around him, lifting his head into her lap and holding it close. “Cale, if you can hear me, I forgive you. No matter what happens, you need to know that I forgive you!”
He opened his eyes long enough to see the tears shimmering in hers.
“I love you,” he whispered, just before the darkness swallowed him up.
Chapter 14
No one at the shop was very focused the next morning. Orders were forgotten, and the cinnamon rolls didn’t rise. Isaac dropped an open gallon of milk and Greta broke down in tears every fifteen minutes.
It didn’t help that Creekside had never been so busy. Ever. Everyone in town apparently felt the need to come in for questions, commiseration, and offers of help.
Rory hadn’t made an appearance or even called, and no one expected her to. There was simply too much for her to think about, and everyone at the shop knew their jobs well enough to operate without her oversight. When customers pressed for information, they were told that the family was recovering and no one really knew yet what they would need.
Willow was probably the most distracted of all. She’d spent a sleepless night waiting for news from the hospital in Bend, where Cale was being treated for smoke inhalation and a concussion. His right shoulder had taken the brunt of the fall, but was only badly bruised. It was a miracle that he had no broken bones.
Kinley was another story. She was still unconscious, having succumbed to the smoke far sooner, and had suffered several burns as well. While the doctors were optimistic, they were waiting for her to regain consciousness before offering any definite prognosis.
Sean and Trey would recover quickly—the worst injury between them was Sean’s burned hand—and by the time they’d been released from the hospital they were already telling excited stories about the fire truck that had come to save their house.
Sadly, not much had been left of their house to save. The firefighters believed faulty wiring had started the blaze, but no matter the cause, Rory was still in shock, and had been able to do little more than cling to her boys and give yes or no answers.
It would be a long road back, but Willow had no doubt that they would be okay. Rory was strong, the boys were resilient, and the entire town seemed ready to rally around them.
If only Willow could feel as much confidence in her relationship with Cale. If they even still had one.
At least she’d had a chance to tell him she forgave him. That instant when she saw him collapsed in the snow, blood running down the side of his head, would be branded in her memory forever. Just as Marcia had said, she’d found her deciding moment. She’d known without a doubt that if she let him go, if she was too afraid to take a chance on their future, she would regret it for the rest of her life.
She thought he’d agreed. It had almost sounded like he said that he loved her, right before he passed out, but she wasn’t about to put much confidence in the confession of a man with a head injury. What if he didn’t remember saying it? What if he changed his mind?
It was with both anticipation and dread that she awaited his release from the hospital that afternoon, and the roiling cauldron of emotions in her chest kept her completely off balance all day. She’d just finished organizing the bakery case for the third time when Jess came back from break and handed her a latte.
“Go. Sit. You’ve been worrying yourself to death all day and you need a breather.”
Willow smiled ruefully and took off her apron. She did need a break, but then, they all did. Maybe they should close up early. The customers would certainly understand under the circumstances.
Taking her latte to one of the front tables, Willow sat and stared out at the crowds on main street. There were several clusters of tourists, plus the usual local shoppers rushing down the sidewalks, doing last-minute errands before the holiday. It was hard to remember how excited she’d been about Christmas only a few days before. Now, every time she closed her eyes, she saw flames instead of Christmas lights. Cale’s pale, blood-stained face instead of his smile.
Her thoughts were so far away, she almost didn’t notice the short, slender man standing on the corner across the street. His hood was drawn up over his face, but there was still something about him that snagged at her attention, drawing her eyes back to his hunched, searching form.
She knew him, her fogged brain insisted. Knew that faded blue hoodie and those battered black boots.
He reached up to lower the hood and every thought in Willow’s brain fled in an instant of pure shock.
It was Elliot. Elliot was in Echo Creek. Somehow, some way, he’d found her.
For a split second, she wondered whether Cale had betrayed her, but she discarded that thought almost the same moment it formed. He would never hurt her. Either Elliot’s cop friend had found her information through law enforcement channels, or Elliot had traced his phone before Cale turned it off.
Either way, it didn’t matter. Elliot was here, and Cale was not.
She couldn’t let him see her. Couldn’t risk him coming into the coffee shop and starting anything ugly in front of Rory’s customers. She would have to get away, and lead him elsewhere.
But where? How? She couldn’t go back to Marcia’s. The risk of him following her was too great. And Marcia was due to pick her up after work, so wherever she went would have to be on foot.
The answer came to her as she turned slowly away from the window and rose from her seat. Marty’s. It was only about eight blocks away, and Cale had said he’d faked her car’s failure to start. If she could get her car, she could leave town before Elliot saw her. Before he hurt anyone she cared about. There was no reason for him to associate her with any particular individuals in town, as long as she stayed away until he was gone.
“Jess,” she said, very quietly and calmly, “there’s something I have to do. Can you cover for me?”
“Sure thing.” Jess offered her a commiserating smile. “You need any help?”
“No, it’ll be fine.” Willow focused on keeping her voice and breathing normal. “Just a personal thing I need to take care of.”
She grabbed her purse from under the counter and her jacket off the hook in the hallway, before opening the back door jus
t a crack and peeking out. When she confirmed that Elliot was nowhere in sight, she slipped out, pulled up her hood and strolled as nonchalantly as possible down the block in the opposite direction. It wasn’t until she turned the corner and left the Main Street shoppers behind that she began to jog.
Every few yards, she cast a glance back over her shoulder, and every time a pedestrian came into view her heart jumped into her throat, but none of them were Elliot.
When she reached Marty’s, the enormous garage door was standing open, but Marty himself was nowhere in sight. He must be working in the office, where it was warmer. Willow slipped inside and dashed behind a vehicle as a truck roared by on the street outside. She crouched there until she thought it was safe, then rose slowly and looked around for her car.
It was still there, parked on the far side of the garage, and Willow suppressed a strange well of emotion at the sight. The little Corolla represented a life that had seemed so far away, only yesterday. That life of fear and uncertainty had now reared its head again, and seemed determined to snatch her back from the tentative joy she’d found in Echo Creek.
She wasn’t going to let it. All she had to do was leave town until Elliot gave up. She could even drive to Bend and wait at the hospital until Cale was released. He would know what to do about her brother.
She should probably tell Marty what she was doing. He could call Marcia, and let her know what was happening. Willow started to head towards Marty’s office, but a car pulled up and parked outside the garage, forcing her to duck back behind her car again.
Outside, the car door slammed, then she heard the bells from over the entrance to Marty’s front counter.
“Can I help you?” That was Marty.
“I’m looking for a woman. My sister. She was seen somewhere around here a few weeks ago. Here’s her picture.”
Willow’s heart slammed against her ribs. How had Elliot found her here? Had he followed her? Or had this been where his phone was located when he traced it?
“Nope.” Marty sounded convincingly positive, bless him. “If she was just passing through, not likely I’d remember. There’s a lot of tourists this time of year, ski season and all. If I don’t tow their car, I probably wouldn’t know ‘em.”
“Are you sure?” Elliot’s nasal voice took on a whine when he was upset. Surely he wouldn’t do anything to hurt Marty.
“I’m positive, kid. Look, I’m about to close up for the afternoon, so, best of luck to you, but I can’t help.”
Close up? He never closed up in the afternoon.
Willow heard the bells over the door again, then the rumble of the enormous garage door. After it settle to the floor, she heard the clank of the chain Marty used to lock it up, the rumble of voices, then the roar of an engine.
As soon as she was certain her brother had driven away, Willow emerged from her hiding place. “Marty?” she called. No answer. Maybe he’d gone back inside. She crossed the garage, jumping over several piles of parts and tools to rattle the door to Marty’s office. It was locked. Had he really closed up early?
There was no window for her to peer through, except high up on the south wall, where light came through three small glass panes set near the ceiling. It was just enough light for Willow to explore the garage, looking for alternative ways out. She found the button that she thought controlled the door, but it didn’t work. There were no other doors, no other visible means of exit, so she sat on the hood of her car and tried not to worry.
Marty would be back. He’d probably gone to tell someone about Elliot, and he would come back as soon as he’d delivered the message. In the meantime, she had her coat and her boots, and her hat and gloves were in her purse. It was cold out, but not that cold, and the garage would protect her from the wind. Eventually someone would miss her. Her shift at the coffee shop was due to end in about three hours, and Marcia would arrive to pick her up.
Poor Marcia.
Of course, Jess would no doubt miss her before that, but she might just assume that Willow had gotten caught up in her personal errand and not bothered to call anyone. In that case, Willow would have at least three hours before anyone knew she was missing. Three hours for Elliot to get up to who knew what.
And after that? Someone would come looking for her. Someone would guess what had happened to her. Wouldn’t they?
Or would they believe that she’d left town, just as soon as Marty told them about Elliot?
Cale had been afraid she would leave without telling anyone. What if they all assumed that was what she’d done? What if Marty didn’t come back until the next day? Was it possible that she might be stuck there overnight, alone, in an unheated garage?
Willow shivered at the thought, and pulled her hat and gloves out of her purse. Best to start preserving warmth now, and to keep looking for a way out.
Cale stepped out of his car in front of Creekside and reminded himself not to move too fast. He had some residual shortness of breath, but the doctors said he should be fine, as long as he rested, drank plenty of fluids, and took his medicine.
But he was too nervous to wait. He needed to see Willow.
He’d been pretty far gone the night before—between the smoke and the blow to his head—and his memory was too hazy to be reliable. Now he was desperate to know whether he’d only dreamed the moment when she said she’d forgiven him, or the moment when he’d started babbling that he loved her. Actually, he was pretty sure that one was real.
The bells over the door jangled cheerfully as he opened it, but the faces that greeted him were far from cheerful. Marty was standing in front of the counter, his hands shoved in his pockets. Jess was crying, Isaac was trying to console her, and four customers seemed to be talking at once.
“Cale!” Marty headed for him, relief clearing the scowl from his face. “Are you okay? You look like…” He stopped, flushed under his tan. “You look pretty bad,” he finished.
“I’ll be fine,” Cale promised. “What’s going on? Isn’t Willow supposed to be working today?”
“She’s missing!” Jess said tearfully, clutching at her apron. “She said she had some personal business to take care of and I didn’t think anything of it until she didn’t come back.”
“How long ago?” Cale felt as if every nerve suddenly snapped into focus. All mental fog was temporarily banished by a sense of cold apprehension.
“Two hours? I think?”
“That’s not all,” Marty said darkly. “I think her brother followed her here. Some greasy looking rat-faced guy came into my garage about an hour and a half ago, flashing her picture around. I didn’t want him to see the car, so I locked the place down tight.”
“Okay.” Cale didn’t have time for anger or fear. He had to think. Elliot was here. He must have had a locator app on his phone, and traced it to Echo Creek before Cale turned it off. That was the only way he would have known to go to Marty’s garage.
Had Willow seen him? He couldn’t think of many reasons for her to disappear in the middle of her shift—it wasn’t like her to walk away from a responsibility, especially without telling anyone where she was going. If she had seen her brother, what would she do?
“We need to find Willow,” he told the small group standing in an anxious circle around the counter. “I have to call a friend, and then we’re going to spread out and figure out where she went. We also need to find her brother. Elliot Renner.” He hunted through his phone until he found a picture taken by the Seattle Police, and passed it around. Greasy and rat-faced did seem to be an accurate description.
“He abused her before she came here,” Cale continued, “so if she spotted him she may have been scared enough to run. She also wouldn’t want him hurting anyone else, so she’ll be trying to stay away from places and people that she knows.”
“Is this guy dangerous?” Jess’s eyes were wide and apprehensive.
“Elliot may be violent,” Cale confirmed, “but he doesn’t have a record of assault or any registered firearms. He
is definitely a danger to Willow, though, so if we find him, we’re calling whoever is on duty today.”
Nods came from all around.
“I’m closing up,” Isaac said firmly. “Rory won’t mind, and we need to find Willow before this guy does.”
An unspoken worry hung between them all—that he might already have found her—but no one voiced it. Instead, everyone expressed agreement with the plan and hastened to close up the shop.
On a hunch, Cale put in a quick call to Seattle and confirmed with Russ that a warrant had been issued for Elliot Renner’s arrest—on drug and assault charges that didn’t even include what he’d done to Willow. He’d probably fled to escape it and decided to track down his sister on the way out. Whether for money or for satisfaction, there was no way of knowing until they caught him.
Before leaving the coffee shop, Cale made contact with Will Evans, the deputy covering his shift that afternoon. If Elliot tried to leave town, Will would be watching for him, and knew enough of the details to protect Willow if he found them together.
“I’m calling Rory,” Greta informed everyone as she put on her coat and hat, “and then I’m going to all the other businesses on Main Street with that picture, if you’ll send it to me.”
“I’ll drive around town,” Jess offered. “See if I can spot either of them on foot.”
“Just be safe,” Cale ordered. “Watch out for tourists and let me know if you spot anything suspicious.”
They split up, and Cale’s heart ached as he thought of the call he needed to make. Marcia would be devastated to hear the news. Terrified, when she realized that Willow could be out there somewhere, potentially being hunted by her despicable brother.
She wouldn’t thank him for putting it off, no matter how much he hated the necessity, so he dialed the number before he could talk himself out of it.
“Cale? Are you out of the hospital?”