The Hijacked Wife

by Winn, Bonnie K.

  His kiss was a gentle explosion, one that she willingly accepted. One of Jack’s hands moved to cup the back of her neck. Like a willow bending to a persuasive wind, she leaned into his hold. As the exploration continued, deepened, incited, Summer loosened her hold on the carved figurine, instead weaving her fingers through the longish hair that rested on Jack’s collar.

  Like travelers finding exciting new destinations, they reveled in each discovery. And each visit was better than the last.

  When Jack finally pulled away, Summer lifted one hand to gently touch his face, to trace the lines of his strong jaw, the more tender flesh of his lips.

  “Da!” Danny called. “Da!”

  Summer and Jack glanced back at the toddler, who looked as though his small face was about to crumple into tears at being left alone.

  Reluctantly Jack released his hold on Summer and returned to his son. Unbelting him, Jack lifted Danny into his arms, then sat with him again on the white horse.

  Her knight, Summer thought, watching them. Jack was making Danny smile again, and in moments both were laughing. Jack lifted Danny’s arm, waving toward Summer. Valiantly she waved back, incredibly touched by both of them.

  “We’re gaining on you,” Jack told her with a grin.

  Secure in his father’s arms, Danny flashed that sweet baby smile.

  Over the lump in her throat, she managed to laugh, knowing her eyes were bright with unshed tears. “Want to make a wager on that?”

  “You doubting us?” he questioned with a mock frown.

  The carousel continued circling, the music danced across the night air and the stars lit the sky. “Never,” she murmured. “Never.”

  Chapter 11

  “I hate to leave,” Summer said quietly as the amusement park disappeared from sight. “I felt safe there.”

  “Also hungry,” Jack pointed out. “Food was the one accommodation the owner didn’t leave us, and Danny’s down to his last jars of baby food.”

  “You’re right,” she agreed.

  Jack studied the rearview mirror, wondering just what route Fisher and Wilcox had taken. Dusk was overtaking the day, and soon all he’d be able to see would be the flash of anonymous headlights. He, too, hated to leave the relative safety of the amusement park, but they had stayed an extra day there, hoping to let their trail grow cold. Not knowing if there was a regular security patrol, they had been taking a huge risk by delaying. And although Summer had never complained about the minimized rations, he refused to have her going hungry.

  Summer’s calm temperament was a wonder. But that made him feel even guiltier. Jack glanced over at her, and wondered how he’d ever dismissed her. “Summer?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’ve been thinking.”

  “Good. One of us should be,” she joked mildly.

  “This would be a good time for you to get out. I know I told you it’s not safe to return home, but you could go somewhere else, somewhere safe.”

  “What?” Shock colored her voice and darkened her eyes.

  “I can’t justify endangering you anymore.” Jack thought of the kiss they’d shared, the tenderness he felt for her. He couldn’t bear to think of bringing her to harm.

  “We’ve already had this discussion,” Summer retorted, a flush coloring her cheeks.

  Why did she have to be so stubborn? It was difficult enough to let her go. “I don’t want to blackmail you anymore. Danny and I will be fine.”

  “You haven’t blackmailed me! I’ve helped because I want to.” Summer twisted her hands anxiously. “Do you honestly think I could have a moment’s peace not knowing if you two got to Washington okay?”

  “I could call,” he tried.

  “Great! The only place I have to go is home and you said that might not be safe. So you’re going to phone me...where? And since I wouldn’t know how to locate you, I guess I could call you....let’s see ... where? Gee, that sounds like a great plan.”

  Jack concealed the flinch he felt, knowing she was right. “If you insist on staying, then we have to find a spot that’s really safe.”

  She slanted an ironic glance at him. “I thought that’s what we’ve been trying to do.”

  “This time, we try harder.”

  Sunlight had long since struggled to replace the fading night as they rolled into a midsize, tucked-away town, nestled in the Virginia countryside. Even though she was exhausted, Summer noticed that the place fairly screamed bucolic.

  “Where are we?” she asked, unsuccessfully stifling a yawn.

  “Caleb Corners. It’s remote enough to be a good hiding spot for a few days, but large enough that strangers go unnoticed.”

  Summer stared out the window. “I guess in a really small town everybody knows everybody and we’d be pretty obvious.”

  “Like flies on whipped cream. That’s why people usually head to big cities to hide out, but we don’t exactly have a glut of big cities to choose from on the route to D.C.”

  She glanced around at the gently rolling hills, the neat, carpeted fields punctuated by white farmhouses, sturdy barns and silos. It was a town that could have been conjured up from the pages of a Laura Ingalls Wilder book.

  After driving past the surrounding countryside, they entered a prosperous-looking town. Old rock buildings attested to Caleb Corners’s historical base while newer buildings spoke of continuing growth.

  “It’s a gingerbread town,” she blurted out impulsively, immediately liking what she saw.

  “Gingerbread?”

  Summer squirmed, then sheepishly met his glance. “It’s what I call places like...Caleb Corners. Places that seem warm, welcoming.”

  A few seconds passed.

  “That’s how it was,” Jack admitted. “It’s probably why I thought it could be again...why I thought this place might be really safe. And if Fisher and Wilcox checked out all the places I’ve lived, they should have come and gone from here already.”

  She nodded. Although Summer knew her instincts weren’t as finely tuned as Jack’s, she did know that this place simply felt better than the others had. Most of the mistakes she had made in her life had come from not following her instincts, not listening to the small voice of warning.

  As they passed through the town, Summer wondered at the life Jack had been forced to lead since he had turned state’s evidence. She guessed at times his small voice of warning must have sounded like a wailing banshee.

  Then Jack slowed down. Braking, he parked and Summer looked at him in surprise. They had stopped in front of a Victorian-era church. Complete with a soaring steeple, the graceful old building could have been drawn from an old-time postcard.

  “I was a handyman here after I joined the program,” Jack explained.

  Summer’s eyes softened. “That must have been so difficult, working on buildings instead of designing them.”

  “I didn’t have a lot of choices. But this was a good place to be.”

  “With good people?” she questioned, guessing the answer.

  “Let me put it this way. This contact is trustworthy, certainly more trustworthy than Bart was.”

  “Why is that so easy for me to believe?”

  Despite his fatigue, Jack managed a grin. “Good instincts.”

  “You reading my mind?” she asked, thinking that only moments had passed since she had been considering her instincts.

  He cocked his head.

  Summer waved away his question. “Never mind. Should we see if we’re welcome?”

  “I doubt that Pastor Steiger and his wife have changed. With them, what you see is what you get No hidden agendas.”

  Despite her fatigue, Summer smiled. The Steigers sounded like just the prescription they needed after the harrowing journey they’d been on. Especially when the older couple whipped open the door, pulling them inside and gushing over Danny.

  “This is my wife, Summer,” Jack completed the introductions, seeing the Steigers exchange a pleased glance.

  Summer m
anaged not to widen her eyes at the introduction, smiling as she was drawn into their warm welcome.

  “We’re pleased to meet you,” Don Steiger told her warmly, extending his hand.

  “It’s so wonderful,” Mary Steiger exclaimed, her lively brown eyes dancing. “You’ve married and now a baby, too!”

  Startled, Summer’s gaze skipped to Jack’s, but he glanced away. So, the Steigers hadn’t known about Danny. Had Jack lived here before Danny had been born? Before he’d known what would happen to his late wife?

  “And we’ve redecorated the guest room,” Mary continued, oblivious to Summer’s confusion. “We’ve changed things around a bit. Actually it used to be the gardener’s cottage, and we’ve turned it into a guest house.” She turned to Summer. “A tiny guest house, I’m afraid! But it should be just right for newlyweds.”

  “I’m sure we’ll be very comfortable,” Summer managed to respond, thinking again of spending time in an intimate room with Jack. Somehow comfortable didn’t come to mind.

  But Mary was clapping petite hands together. “And we have a wonderful nursery now, too.”

  “For our first grandchild,” Don Steiger inserted. “She’s a beauty. But the nursery’s coed since we’re hoping for more in time.”

  “And little Danny will love it,” Mary enthused, reaching out for the baby.

  Reluctantly Jack released him. “I’m ... we’re used to keeping him close.”

  “Ah, but you’re practically honeymooners,” Mary dismissed. “And little ones love having honorary grandparents around to spoil them rotten.”

  Helplessly Summer gazed at Jack. It seemed once again Danny had charmed his way into someone’s heart.

  “Jack, you must have heard our prayers because we can sure use you again,” Don told him as Mary clucked over the baby. “The belfry roof is leaking.” He shook his head. “And the list of repairs at the chapel might send you running.”

  “I don’t think so, Pastor. It’s good to be back here.”

  “Let’s get you settled,” Mary told them, still holding the baby. “Are you hungry?” Not giving them a chance to answer, she continued. “Of course, you must be. And I bet this little guy would like some of my homemade applesauce.”

  “Pastor, do you mind if I pull the truck into the old carriage house?” Jack asked, thinking he would feel better when the vehicle was out of sight.

  “Certainly. There’s room out there for half a dozen cars. You don’t have to ask, son. Treat this like your home. We’re happy to have you back with us.”

  Summer felt a prickle of grateful tears and bit down on her lip. Clearly the Steigers thought highly of Jack. And remarkably she already felt safe.

  It didn’t take long to unload their luggage and to install themselves in the guest house. As soon as the door closed behind Mary and Don, Summer whirled around. “Okay, spill it. How can the Steigers not know about Danny? I’m guessing we’re not going to these safe houses in the same order you did originally.”

  Jack sighed, rubbing a weary hand over the day’s stubble. He needed a shave, a hot shower and a hot meal. But clearly he was going to have to do some talking first And that bothered him more than putting off the other three.

  Reluctantly he began. “I told you my wife got caught in the cross fire that put her in a coma. Danny wasn’t born yet. Eventually he was delivered by C-section.” He paused, remembering. Pain and guilt still accompanied the memories. Clearing his throat, Jack continued. “I wanted to stay with Linda day and night. She was in protective custody within the hospital. I was afraid to leave her alone, afraid that someone would slip by the guards and get to her. But only one attempt was made—and it wasn’t on Linda. It was on me.”

  Jack walked toward the window, pushing the drapes aside and opening the pane so that fresh air rushed in. “Tom Matthews convinced me that staying by Linda’s side was putting her in danger. She wasn’t the bait—I was. If...I left, she’d be safer.”

  “So you left?” Summer questioned.

  He nodded. “That’s when I entered the program, and this is where I came first. Since Danny hadn’t been born yet, the Steigers never saw him.”

  “So we’re both a surprise,” Summer concluded softly.

  “Yes.”

  “Did they know you were married?”

  Jack laughed bitterly. “I told them I was a widower. I didn’t know at the time it would be prophetic.”

  She flinched, feeling his pain. “Saying it didn’t make it come true.”

  He shrugged, but Summer could see the tension in his posture, the stiffness in his set expression. “Maybe not. But I caused the situation that got her shot, then I wasn’t there for her when she died.”

  “You didn’t cause it!” Summer denied hotly. “You did the right thing. Surely you don’t believe Linda would have wanted you to stand by and do nothing?”

  Since they were chillingly close to the reassurances Linda herself had offered, Jack didn’t reply.

  “From what I can sense about her, Linda wasn’t the kind of person who would have wanted you to take the easy way out.” Her voice softened. “And I think she would approve of how you’re raising Danny ... how he’s going to turn out because of you.”

  A look of gratitude flickered in Jack’s eyes.

  Summer realized they were dealing with his innermost feelings and decided she should back off in the face of his pain. “You’re right The Steigers seem like lovely people. Are you okay about having Danny in the nursery instead of with you?”

  Belatedly Jack stared around the tiny cottage. Mary had decorated it in English country style, filling it with cabbage roses, plaid slipcovers and mellow pictures of hunting dogs, all meant to soothe and relax. But his eyes fell on the lone bed. The brass four-poster was a narrow double, a bed meant for one person, or two people on very good terms.

  “Jack?”

  Distracted, he glanced back at her. “Yes?”

  “Are you okay about having Danny in the nursery?” she repeated.

  “For now. We can put his playpen up and then snag him later. Right now, I could use about forty-eight hours of sleep.”

  In unison, their gazes fell on the solitary bed.

  “Or a shower,” Summer blurted, then wanted to kick herself. In a flash, she remembered barging in on a very naked Jack as he had showered. Every detail of the moment jumped out in her memory, sending warm blood to her cheeks.

  Jack’s gaze settled on her, and the warmth spread. A dangerous tension simmered in the air.

  A quiet knock on the door startled them both.

  Jack turned first, quickly moving to open the door.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Pastor Steiger began. “Mary’s got some hot soup and roast-beef sandwiches almost ready. She thought one of you might want to take a shower in the main house, rather than wait on this one.”

  Seizing that excuse to escape, Summer spoke up quickly. “How very kind of her.” She grabbed her still packed bag. “I’ll take her up on the offer.”

  As she scuttled out the door, she dared a look at Jack and knew she hadn’t left the conflict behind.

  Summer hadn’t expected to resolve that conflict by singing. But that was what she was doing after she had stumbled onto choir practice at the church.

  Enthusiastically she had been welcomed by the choirmaster, Chandler Morris. When Summer had admitted to being able to carry a few notes, she had been drafted.

  And now, as Jack planed a sticking chapel door, Summer harmonized to the first song. A surreptitious glance around told her most of the other members were older women.

  After the first song, the director looked at Summer keenly.

  Nervously she smiled back.

  “Looks like we could have a soloist in our midst,” Chandler told her, not bothering to disguise the glee in his voice.

  “Oh, no...” Summer tried to protest.

  “We won’t make you sing a solo the first time.” Chandler paused for effect. “But after your second Sunday,
nothing’s sacred,” he punned.

  Summer could only stare. That would be keeping low-key, being the center of attention as the church soloist.

  Ethel, a woman she had just been introduced to and who stood next to her, patted her arm in comfort. “Don’t worry about Chandler. He always acts like a shark going after a fresh kill.”

  “So I should think of myself more as bait than a soloist?”

  “Not much of a comfort, is it?” she responded sympathetically. “We’ll try and draw him off the scent, if you like. But with a voice like yours, he’s not going to give up permanently.”

  Summer cataloged this information, hoping they’d be in D.C. before she had to outwit the choirmaster.

  “Where’s Mary?” Frances, the woman next to Ethel, asked as the director turned again toward Summer.

  Distracted, Chandler responded, “She’ll be along.”

  Summer’s brows rose. Mary was watching Danny...or at least that was what she understood.

  Ethel turned to Summer. “Mary’s our pastor’s wife.”

  Summer nodded, but just then Mary rushed down the aisle, her arms filled with Danny and his carrier.

  A collective aah sounded from the women in the choir.

  “That’s not your granddaughter!” one exclaimed, stepping down to greet Mary.

  “Of course not,” Mary agreed. “This is Danny.” She glanced up toward the choir loft. “He’s Jack and Summer Anderson’s little boy.”

  Now the chorus of oohs and aahs was redirected toward Summer.

  “You didn’t tell us about the little charmer!” Ethel exclaimed. “How old is he?”

  “Eleven months. He’s—”

  “Adorable!” Frances chimed in. “Simply adorable!”

  “No wonder you’re late to choir practice,” another woman told Mary. “You couldn’t pry me away from a baby that sweet!”

  “Which is why he’s coming to choir practice,” Mary told them. “I’ve absolutely monopolized the little guy since the Andersons arrived and I started feeling guilty—thought his mother might like to see him.”