by Leslie North
Wheeze! Wheeze! Her airway refused to open, and she dropped to the laminate flooring, her knees slamming in a painful jolt.
AIR! she silently screamed and stared in horror at the hives blooming on her arms, blotching over the tattoos.
What’s happening? In desperation she sucked in harder, managing to get a trickle of air inside. She wasn’t allergic to coffee—
Searing hot acid raged up from her stomach, and she threw up onto the floor. Over and over she heaved, sometimes expelling liquid contents, but mostly just air.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she gulped as much blessed air as her lungs could stand. Dizziness kept her swaying on her hands and knees, and she thanked God she had put her hair in a ponytail before she came downstairs.
She moaned, the scent of sickness mingling with the fresh brewed coffee turned her stomach and made her dry heave again. Dragging herself to the laundry room, she latched onto a bucket and a pile of rags. Her body felt so weak, she wasn’t sure if she could crawl back. With singled-minded determination, she managed to fill the bucket with soapy water in the utility sink, then dropped to her hands and knees and pushed it to the mess she’d made. The disinfectant overpowered the worst of the smells, helping her stomach settle, and she got the area cleaned up.
By the time she finished, the worst of the weakness passed and she felt like she could function again. Rinsing her mouth out with water, she gulped half the glass and her eyes landed on the full mug of coffee sitting on the edge of the counter.
With trepidation, she pulled the filter from the coffeemaker and sniffed. A jolt rocked her. Now that she was paying attention, she could smell the tree nuts crushed in the grounds as clear as day. Ice shot down her spine and the hair rose on her arms.
For as long as Rachel could remember, she’d always been highly allergic to tree nuts. It wasn’t a secret, the whole town had known since a public incident occurred in grade school, but why would they be in her coffee?
No way had Harris made this pot...or if he had, he’d used coffee grounds someone had tampered with. There were no tree nuts anywhere in her house—or at least, there hadn’t been before now, given the severity of her allergy to them. Had her mother done this? It could have killed her...
The blood leached from Rachel’s head and she swayed. The baby.
Grabbing her keys, she flew out the door and jumped into her car. The entire ride passed by in a blur, and the steering wheel squeaked in her tightened grip, but she didn’t let go until she reached her doctor’s office. Visions of losing the baby plagued her, and she couldn’t stop the tears from falling. Even if she didn’t miscarry, what if the tree nuts caused the baby to develop wrong? Oh God. She was already a horrible mother, and she hadn’t even been pregnant for two months.
Sobbing, she staggered into the waiting room and the front desk person took one look at Rachel and hustled her back into an exam room.
“I think I might have done something to the baby,” Rachel wailed to the nurse who came in.
Vera blanched. “You’re pregnant?” she asked, hurrying to the tablet computer set up at the end of the counter. “Why do you think you hurt the baby?”
“Someone put tree nuts in my coffee,” Rachel stammered, clutching the tissue box Vera handed her like a lifeline. “I didn’t realize it,” she inhaled but couldn’t stop sobbing, “until after I drank it.”
“Oh, Lord.” Vera had been with the doctor’s office for years. She knew all of Rachel’s allergies. “Wait here. I’ll get the doctor.”
Ding!
DingDing!
Rachel jumped and pulled her cellphone out of her back pocket. Wiping her tears on the accumulating wad of tissues, she opened the text app and found new messages from Harris.
Harris: Where are you?
Harris: Are you okay?
Harris: Rachel! Where did you go? Answer me please.
Damn it. She’d been so frantic that it hadn’t occurred to her to tell Harris what happened or to get his help driving to the doctor. He’d have been in much better shape to be behind the wheel.
For a moment, she considered telling him exactly where she was: I’m in the doctor’s office, waiting to find out if the baby’s all right.
But she couldn’t do it. That would just freak him out and he’d come right away. She’d already clung to him like a needy child once when she’d just found out she was pregnant, allowing him to see her scared and this vulnerable a second time was just too much.
Better to send a benign text than to give herself away.
Rachel: Something came up suddenly. Tell you tonight.
Harris:
Tears rolled down her face all over again. Holding her stomach, she prayed nothing had happened to the baby.
Dr. Martin marched through the door. “Sounds like I’m out of the loop on a major event in your life.”
Rachel nodded at the sixty-something woman and allowed Dr. Martin to take over for the next thirty minutes.
Afterwards, Rachel had to stay in the parking lot for another few minutes, waiting for her hands to stop shaking as relief flooded her veins. Dr. Martin confirmed she was definitely pregnant and everything checked out fine. Her body expelling the tree nuts so fast had saved her and the baby from any potential damage.
She may not have been expecting to be a mother or even wanted it at this point in her life, but now that she was, a lioness protectiveness gripped her hard.
No one threatened her baby.
Putting the car in gear, she drove to the police station. Nerves dried her mouth, and her knees shook as she opened the precinct’s door, but she forced herself to walk inside. In her experience, the police didn’t have much respect for the Winchesters, but in their defense, her family hadn’t been upstanding citizens either. Rachel had never had a run-in with the law and before today, she’d never been the focus of their attention. Fingers crossed that they remembered that fact when she asked for help.
Harris all but vibrated in the plush single chair adjacent to the couch. Rachel had led him into the entertainment room after finding him pacing the driveway, knowing he wouldn’t let her put off the explanation about her sudden departure until tonight.
“What happened?” he asked, his voice as tight as his expression. “You’re as pale as a ghost, and I can clearly see you’ve been crying.” He gripped his hands together. “Add that to the cleanup job you did on the kitchen floor before you tore out of here, and I know something’s wrong.”
Damn. The man was too perceptive and his intuition was spot on. She’d have to remember that.
Inhaling, she opened with the part she’d been practicing on the way home. “I doubt you know this, but I’m allergic to tree nuts.”
Every muscle in his entire body stilled.
“Somehow,” she continued, hating how timid her voice sounded as she braced for the coming explosion, “tree nuts were put in the coffee grounds, and I drank them when I poured a cup from the fresh pot this morning.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” He lost all his color and lunged off the chair, dropping to his knees in front of her. “Are you okay? Did anything happen to the baby? Why didn’t you get me?”
“I’m fine.” She squeezed his hands trembling on her legs. “The baby’s fine. That’s where I went. To see my doctor. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” She winced. “I was so scared, I wasn’t thinking straight. The minute I could breathe again—”
He cursed long and loud, a full body shake wracking him as his skin turned red and pasty at once.
“I raced to my car with one goal in mind,” she finished lamely. “I’m not used to anyone caring about me, so I didn’t think to get you.” Oh, pathetic much?
He jerked as if she struck him. “I do care about you, Rachel, and you’re going to have to get used to that. We’re supposed to be a team, but that’s worthless if you shut me out.”
Fair point. “I have to ask.” She cra
dled one of his hands between hers. “Did you make the coffee this morning or was it already on?”
“I didn’t do anything.” His eyes flashed and the anger stealing over his face restored some of his coloring. “I wasn’t sure if you could tolerate the smell, so I was waiting to see if you made a pot or not. Then I’d know in the future what to do.”
“Oh.” God, could he be any more perfect? Why did he have to only be temporary? “Well, that makes this scarier.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he growled. “Come on.” He jumped to his feet and pulled on a hand. “We’re going to the police.”
Countering him, she stayed put. “I already reported the incident while I was out.”
He plopped beside her. The cushion poofed, making her fall against the armrest. “You did? What did they say?”
Her mouth thinned and frustration rocked through her again. “They took my statement but admitted there is no good way to investigate something like this. There are just too many people who know about the allergy and know I have to keep the doors open during business hours. Anyone could have gotten in to set up the timer to make the coffee.” Her fingers tightened on his. “And I have no way of knowing if the timer was used or not. The police will keep a record of the incident in case there are any future problems, but there’s nothing else they can do.”
“Shit.” He scrubbed his face. “Are you thinking your mother and Darryl are involved?”
“They crossed my mind first,” she admitted, feeling guilty for the confession. “I can’t think of anyone else who would want to sabotage my coffee.”
“Sabotage,” Harris repeated grimly. “There’s that word again. First the step and now this. Only this time, you or the baby could have died.” He yanked her against him and hugged her hard.
Needing to feed on his strength, she wrapped her arms around him and clung to the vitality radiating off him in waves.
Wretched tears leaked from her eyes and she could do nothing to stop them. Damn hormones. This crying phase had better pass quickly. She rued the weakness and knew she wouldn’t be able to take it if it lasted all nine months. “Would my mother really try to hurt me?” she whispered, her voice small like a child’s. “Would she really risk killing me over a mythical treasure?”
Harris flinched and pulled her onto his lap. “I want to hope not,” he murmured into her hair. “Do you have a will drawn up? Is she going to inherit if something happens to you?”
“That’s just it.” Rachel adjusted her position so she could breathe easier and not fill his shirt with her runny nose. “My mother’s not going to inherit my share if something happens to me and she knows that. It makes no sense.”
“Angry people being kept from what they want don’t always behave rationally,” Harris answered as he rocked her gently. “They just want whatever obstacles they’re facing to go away.”
“Ohhh,” Rachel tried to respond coherently but a sob stole her voice, then another and another until she couldn’t stop crying.
“Sweetheart,” Harris whispered, rubbing her back. “I’ve got you.” Soft kisses peppered the top of her head and a wad of tissues magically bumped her hand. “Advice-givers on a forum suggested I keep a clump in my pockets.”
Grabbing at them gratefully, she pressed them to her face. Harris’s words kept replaying in her mind. “I don’t want to be an obstacle,” she garbled through tears and shaky intakes of air. “I don’t want to become like my mother, treating our child like an obstacle or burden.” More sobs stole her breath and she swallowed against them. “How will I know how to be a parent with the horrible role models I had?”
“Shhhhhh,” Harris drew out and continued rocking her. “You’re going to be an amazing mom. The way you are with your guests, the way you care for this place, and the way you took care of a lonely marine who looked to you as the best part of his day? Are you kidding me? You’ve got more compassion and responsibility in your little finger than your parents have in their whole bodies.”
Her tears slowed and she clung to his words.
He kissed her head again. “You’re strong, Rachel. You can do this.”
“I’m strong,” she quietly repeated. “I can do this.”
“Hell, yeah, you can.” Harris cupped her cheek. “And you also have me. I promise I'll be here for you and our child. You’re not doing this alone.”
Rachel unburied her face from his neck, pulled his head down, and placed soft kisses on his lips. “Thank you,” she murmured in between.
His grip on her cheek shifted and he tilted his head to kiss her deeper. Heat exploded through her and she licked his top lip. He opened his mouth and she slipped her tongue inside. Neither one tore at the other, instead, they sipped and explored, enjoying the sheer intimacy of kissing. In some ways it scared her how good it felt to be held in his arms and kissing him like this, but she refused to overanalyze the incredible, poignant moment.
“I want you,” he whispered, then kissed her like he was drowning.
She eventually pulled back. “I want you too.”
He stilled, then showing off his sheer strength, stood straight up with her in his arms.
Giggling, she lightly whacked his shoulder. “Put me down.”
“Uh-uh.” He shook his head, his sienna eyes darkening to chocolate. “You might change your mind and run away. I want you where I can have ample opportunity and time to change it back.”
It felt great to laugh after everything that had happened. “Well, it is broad daylight and we have work to do. Not to mention the family checking in at four—”
“That’s a worry for later.” He strode for the door, still cradling her tight. “We’ll stop when we have to greet them. I’ll recommend a restaurant to get them out of the house, then feast on you for dinner while they’re gone.”
That sounded amazing, but…“Aren’t you forgetting your therapy appointment?”
“Damn it.” Pausing, his eyes flashed and his jaw hardened. “Fine. I won’t be able to worship you like I planned, but I’ll do what I can before I have to go…and I’m still having you for dinner.” He stole a kiss. “As long as you promise me you’re not going anywhere or ingesting anything while I’m gone or you’ll be coming with me.”
“I can’t leave,” she protested, secretly enjoying his caveman protectiveness. “I still need to finish cleaning the public areas since I lost this morning.” She pecked his cheek. “I promise the only thing I’ll put in my mouth is you.”
He growled and headed out of the room.
She smoothed a hand down his back and bumped into something poking out of his back pocket. “What’s this?” She pulled a folded piece of paper out.
He stopped when he saw her unfold it. “I forgot about that. I guess you could say your mother was helpful in one way; she dropped that the other day.”
Rachel skimmed the paper and it took a second for it to sink in. “It’s new information about the treasure. This seems to indicate it was buried between the sea and an ancient tree.”
“That’s interesting,” his tone said it was anything but. “But I’ve got something, er, someone much more pressing to do.” His eyebrows waggled. “Tomorrow we can look at some maps.”
Rachel laughed, refolded the paper and enjoyed every second of sliding back into his pocket. “In the den, you’ll find a whole set of books about the history of the area, and even a few about the pirate in question.”
He raised an eyebrow.
Her cheeks bloomed with heat. “I told you I was obsessed with the story when I was younger.”
“I’m rocking my own obsession so I can’t judge.” He attacked the stairs and proceeded to show her just how captivated he was with her.
8
The early morning sunlight shone brightly in the den located in the front of the house on the main floor. Harris had already been out to the grocery store to pick up the list of items he’d found posted on the refrigerator along with a brand-new coffeemaker and a new canis
ter of coffee grounds. (He might have shown a bit too much aggression destroying the old machine before he chucked it into the trash, but no one saw a thing.) He planned to lock both the machine and coffee grounds in the apartment at night from now on.
With a fresh pot percolating in the coffeemaker he had moved into the den so he’d know for damn sure it wasn’t tampered with, Harris continued his research on the pirate’s treasure while he waited for Rachel to wake up and the family of guests to haul their asses out from the two bedrooms on the main floor in the back. They had asked for an ocean view, but the kids balked at climbing the stairs, hence the bottom level rooms.
Satisfaction stole through him as snatches of yesterday afternoon replayed in his mind. The moment they hit her bedroom, his craving for her had become ferocious, but he had forced himself to be gentle. The mind-blowing realization that he didn’t need to wear a condom made the connection with Rachel that much more powerful. He’d only gotten to claim her once before he left for therapy, but she had attacked him in the middle of the night, so of course he had responded…again and again…
He smoothed his finger down the spine of an aging book that smelled faintly of mold and studied frontispiece of the rudimentary drawing of a treasure map. Sliding the book to the side, he compared that map to the one in another book and glared at them. Of course they didn’t match.
Rachel’s collection was surprisingly extensive, and it warmed his heart again to learn about her secret romantic obsession.
Spreading Tammy Winchester’s latest contribution in a spare section of the large wooden table, he scrutinized yet another version of the property’s layout, then he noticed the faint writing showing on a curled corner. Flipping it over, he blinked at finding depictions of hidden passageways and nooks supposedly in the house. No way could secret corridors exist. He’d been over every inch of this house, and the spatial circumferences of each room were exactly what they should be.
He slapped the paper back down and rubbed the bridge of nose. A headache began to form behind his eyes which were starting to cross. All the small print in the books along with the conflicting maps were frustrating. He needed to walk the property once he was through with his tasks for the day. He had a knack for surveying and understanding land. More than once in his Raider unit he’d been teased about having a Native American somewhere in his ancestry. He’d only shrugged and smiled. Maybe he did (and BTW, that would be awesome). He always had an unfailing sense of direction and intuitively picked out a good path when none seemed to be found…until the day he’d gotten his best friend killed. It had been his recommendation to search that location in the Amazon forest, and it had been his responsibility to lead—