Claiming The One (Meadowview Heat 3; The Meadowview Series 3)

by Rochelle French

  “No,” Michelle answered, turning to her. “Lightning strikes caused another fire. That’s why we’re here. I couldn’t get you on your cell. The town may be evacuated if the fire continues to spread at its current rate.”

  A sudden understanding washed over her. The thick smoke outside her window, the heavy ash fall coating Michelle and Dan. “Where’s the fire?” she asked, dully, somehow knowing already.

  “At the confluence of Elderberry Creek and Maidu River. Just above Suicide Rock,” Dan said.

  Bile shot to her throat and she quickly sat up. “Oh, God, Michelle,” she said, clutching the other woman’s arm. “They’re out there.” She couldn’t control her panic. Every instinct inside her screamed loudly. They needed her—the man she loved and the daughter she’d once had.

  “‘They’ who?” Michelle asked, kneeling before Liz.

  Liz looked down at the grown woman who’d once been her friend. Sort-of. Michelle probably would have hung out with Liz more if Liz had allowed anyone in. But letting anyone in, even a fraction of an inch, meant risking getting hurt. And she’d had lived through too much hurt to ever risk again. But now…

  Abbie had driven herself all the way to Meadowview in hopes of being loved. Maybe Liz could take a clue from her child and open up…just a little…

  “The baby…” she whispered.

  “Liz,” Michelle said, her voice equally hushed. “I know she’s back. The whole town knows. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  She choked in air, willing her lungs and voice to work. “Her name is Abbie. She came to Meadowview to find Hunter and me. Now she’s gone.”

  “Where is she, Liz? Where is Abbie?”

  She drew in a gulp of air. “She showed up about two hours ago. I handled things poorly and she tore out of here. She’s headed toward Suicide Rock, and Hunter went to go get her. They’re in the path of the fire. We have to do something!”

  * * *

  The whole bottom half of Abbie’s leg felt like it was going to fall off any minute. Every time she hit her foot on some stupid rock or tree root, the mind-numbing pain made her want to puke. The gnarled old tree limb she’d found to use as a crutch hurt her armpit. But still, she struggled upstream.

  Like some stupid salmon, she thought. Only she wasn’t beating herself up to get upstream, lay eggs, and die. No, her battle to get upstream was so she could live.

  The smoke made breathing one heck of a chore. She’d dipped her Rolling Stones T-shirt in the creek water and stuck her nose and mouth under the neckband, which helped purify the air a little. Her lungs didn’t burn quite as badly with each breath, but everything stank like a wet ashtray.

  In front of her, a doe and a spotted fawn crashed through the underbrush. They reached the stream and did the same thing she was doing—used the creek as a road to safety. Abbie watched the white deer butts disappear around a bend in the creek and started crying.

  She couldn’t help it. She wanted her dad. Darrin McHale loved her. He really, really loved her. And her stepmom, Ember, did too, even though Ember could be totally hard-nosed, denying Abbie sleepovers if her homework wasn’t finished, or making her clean the bathroom or do the dishes. But Ember had always been there for her even when she hadn’t wanted the company. Like a real stepmom. A real mom.

  Abbie sobbed harder, regret squeezing her chest until she thought she would implode from the pressure.

  If she got out of this alive, she’d be a perfect daughter. She’d never drink alcohol. Never let a boy touch her boobs. She’d do the dishes every night without being asked. She’d never run away again.

  She stumbled and fell forward, her hair sliding down over her shoulders to dangle on either side of her face, the ends dragging in the water of the creek. She hunched there, frozen with pain, her attention caught by the reflection in the pool of water. She caught her breath, amazed at how she looked exactly like her birth mother—like Liz Pritchard. A low, keening sound surprised her until she realized the sound came from within her. With the sound came a sense of resolve, of strength. She had to get herself out of this mess. She had a birth father to meet, a birth mother to apologize to. A baby sister to welcome into the world. A family waiting for her.

  She’d survive. She had to.

  * * *

  Liz heard the hysteria laced through her voice, felt fear bubbling up in her chest—fear laced with guilt. She’d been the one who’d made Abbie run off, the one who’d sat in silence, letting Hunter walk off to rescue their daughter.

  “I’m confused,” Gerald said. “Someone mind telling me what’s going on? What’s—”

  Michelle cut Gerald off and asked Liz, “Are you sure about when she left?”

  “Yes…” Liz tapped her forehead. Her mind had gone fuzzy again. Think. Think. “I know Abbie left about two hours ago, because she and I were standing in the kitchen talking and I had glanced at my watch, wondering what was keeping Hunter. Then she took off. When he got here, he and I thought—” She choked, but then forced the words out. “We thought she’d be back after she’d had time to cool herself off.”

  “But she hasn’t shown up yet, right?”

  Tears welled in her eyes but she went on, saying, “When we heard the lightning so close, Hunter decided to go look for her. He took off a little before you two arrived.”

  Dan whipped out a cell phone, punched in a few numbers, and backed away into the corner, speaking softly.

  Liz clutched at Michelle’s outstretched hands. “You said the whole town knows she’s back.” She paused. “How did everyone find out?” she asked in a small voice.

  “Hunter told Dan this morning when they were getting coffee at Cuppa Joe. Elaine, the waitress—you remember Elaine Jerlowski? She ended up in detention with us a few times.” At Liz’s nod, Michelle continued. “Anyway, Elaine called about an hour ago and told me everything.”

  “I hate to butt in, but could someone please fill me in on what’s happened?” Gerald’s calm tone had taken on a worried edge.

  Liz knew she owed him an explanation. He’d come all the way to Meadowview to get her. To help her. He was just trying to be a friend. But he’d never understand. He wasn’t part of her world—not really. Not her real world. She’d run from her past for so many years—had made bad decision after bad decision all to hide from what was true and real. But none of that had been true or real. She’d left truth behind when she’d put the lock on the door in the attic. The lock on her heart.

  And now, the doors were open. Wide. Exposing her heart, all cracked and fractured and raw. Her past would no longer haunt her. She just wasn’t sure it could heal her, though. “The entire town probably knows about Abbie now.” She curled her arms around her belly. “Doesn’t matter anymore. All that matters is that she comes back safe.”

  “He’ll find her, Liz.” Michelle’s soft voice soothed Liz. “I promise. Hunter will bring her back to you safe and sound.”

  Gerald cleared his throat, loudly, pulling the attention to him. “Will someone please tell me who this Abbie is and why her whereabouts are so important? If there’s a fire, we need to leave, Elizabeth. Not wait for some friend of yours.”

  “Abbie’s not my friend, Gerald.” Liz paused and sucked in a huge breath. Enough of the half-truths, enough of hiding from the past. Enough of the life she’d forged for herself but no longer wanted to live. Enough of being Elizabeth Picard.

  Enough of pretending.

  “I’m sorry, Gerald. I can’t be who I thought I wanted to be—who you wanted me to be, not even for you. And not for a moment longer.” She twisted the heavy engagement ring off her finger. “I have to be Liz Pritchard again. And Abbie is my daughter.”

  Twenty minutes later, Liz stared around her living room in a daze, amazed at all the people filling her house. One phone call from Dan had been all it took to organize a search-and-rescue party for Abbie and Hunter.

  After that phone call, Liz’s house started filling with volunteers and her kitchen table now groaned under t
he weight of food and drinks—bagels and cream cheese brought by Jenna Swinton from Swinton’s Bakery, a turkey casserole from her next-door neighbor Mrs. Tuttle’s freezer, and three cases of sodas from Jeff Brewer, the owner of the Goldpan Pub, who Liz vaguely remembered as being another compatriot in detention.

  More people kept walking in.

  Theo had even shown up, with Chessie Gibson by his side, and had gathered Liz in a big hug in front of everyone. She’d almost pulled away but had instead, after a brief second, allowed herself to melt into his embrace. To be held by him. To be supported.

  Before her house had started to fill with food and people, she’d taken Gerald aside and apologized for publicly breaking up with him.

  Gerald wasn’t all that peeved that he’d flown all the way to Meadowview only to be jilted and told he’d have to either wait forty-eight hours until his twin-engine plane was released to leave the Meadowview airport, or take a Greyhound bus back to the closest town where he could rent a “real” car. Instead, he’d been more understanding than she could have hoped for.

  “I told you when I proposed that I didn’t want any sentimentality in the marriage. Your heart is open, Liz, wide open. The life we were building”—he shook his head—“it won’t work for you. You can’t pretend a life when you have a real one waiting for you.”

  He’d given her a brief hug after that. Then he’d turned away from her and glued his cell phone to his ear.

  The front door swung open again. Liz flashed her gaze to the door, her heart leaping into her throat the way it had each and every time the door opened over the last half-hour. She blew out a breath, deflated. Not Abbie or Hunter, but Mrs. Schuyler, her swim coach from years back, with a lanky teenage girl at her side.

  “Liz.” Mrs. Schuyler greeted her with a warm hug. “We came as soon as we heard. Cathy, my granddaughter,” she gestured to the girl, who smiled shyly at Liz, “brought some of her clothes for your daughter to change into in case she needs them. Here,” she said, pressing a bag into Liz’s hands.

  Liz stared at the brown grocery bag in her hands, unable to form words. Next to her, Theo placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “Theo,” Liz whispered, casting a furtive glance around her house, “why are all these people here? Are these Hunter’s friends?”

  “This is Meadowview, Liz. They’re here for you.”

  “But…but nobody liked me. I’m the one who got knocked up in high school. I had a huge chip on my shoulder and I let the world know it. I once even stapled your sister’s bra to a post.” She’d taken her anger at Hunter out on others, lashing out in pain. Friends had been few and far between.

  “Meadowview might not change much, but most people here are willing to forgive mistakes,” Theo said, quietly. “High school was a long time ago. We’ve all moved on. Maybe it’s time you did, too.”

  She’d already started moving on, Liz realized. Opening her heart to Hunter had been her first step. Walking away from her life with Gerald had been the second. Now, if only Hunter would return with Abbie, she could take the third step toward moving on: letting Abbie know how she really felt. How she’d always felt.

  * * *

  “God, you’re heavy,” Hunter grumbled as he fought to gain footing up the slick banks of the creek. After carrying Abbie in his arms for more than a half-mile through the rugged terrain, his arms screamed in their sockets.

  Wrapped up tight in his arms, Abbie snorted. “Some hero you are, complaining about my weight. Here I had visions of my birth father, all dressed in his firefighting outfit, dashing through the flames to rescue me, and instead I got you, all cranky and lecturing. You aren’t even wearing a firefighter’s hat.”

  He pretended to drop her and she squealed. “Your dad told me you could be a dramatic pill,” he grumbled.

  Her expression sobered. “Is my dad okay? Is he mad at me?”

  “Yes to both,” he answered. “You have a lot to answer for. If it were up to me, I’d ground you until you turned forty-five.”

  Abbie sniffled. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt anyone. I just thought Liz didn’t want me, and that you didn’t either. That nobody loved me. So I took off.”

  “Your dad loves you. I love you. She loves you,” he said, his voice soft.

  “Yeah, right,” Abbie scoffed. “Got proof? ’Cause I sure didn’t feel any love when I met her.”

  Hunter bent low and broke through some underbrush. Ahead stood 35 Nightingale Lane. “I have proof,” he murmured. “Just wait.”

  A few more steps brought him to the front porch, then inside. He stood in the doorway, Abbie in his arms, surprised to see Liz’s house crowded with familiar faces. A cheer went around the room when they were spotted. Apparently, Meadowview had found out about Abbie and had shown up in full force to help. He recognized the sheriff, a couple of teachers from school, the postmistress. Gerald stood in a corner, his back to the room, a cell phone glued to the side of his head. Hunter glanced around, looking for one face in particular.

  He found her standing in the corner of the living room, her hands clutched tightly together. At her side stood Theo, a protective look on his face. Hunter dropped his gaze, unwilling to meet Liz’s eyes.

  “Is she hurt?” Liz asked, her voice sounding high and unnatural.

  “I shattered my leg.” Abbie tightened her death grip on Hunter’s neck.

  “She sprained her ankle,” he said. “Here, kiddo, let’s put you down. You can hobble just fine.”

  Abbie grumbled, and then coughed as Hunter eased her to the ground.

  Liz drew in an audible breath. “Shouldn’t we get her to the hospital?”

  Hunter flashed her a glance. Her wide eyes were on Abbie; she didn’t meet his gaze. Gerald seemed to notice what was going on and pulled the phone away from his ear, then came over to Liz and placed a hand on her shoulder. She let him. Hunter felt an ache in his chest, then a surge of anger.

  The hell with her. If Liz wanted to stick with Gerald, wanted to live a life of luxury, so be it. He was done. Done with putting his heart out there for a woman who may have once been his best friend but who had long since grown a wall of ice over her heart. The fire that had lived in her heart had been extinguished years ago.

  She’d never thaw.

  * * *

  Thoughts and emotions tangled with each other in Liz’s heart and mind. She yearned to leap forward and throw her arms around Abbie, but the girl wouldn’t stop glaring at her. She wanted to feel Hunter’s arms around her, his mouth on hers, but Hunter’s eyes seemed so harsh, so cold.

  “We’ll get her to the hospital, don’t worry. And soon. But she’s not in any immediate danger. I think,” Hunter said, his eyes warming, making the pressure in Liz’s chest released a fraction, “that since she can handle the pain in her leg, there’s something in the attic she needs to see.”

  “Now?” Liz asked, hope and confusion rising in her chest.

  “Now,” he said quietly. “She needs to know what she ran from earlier. She needs to know who she was to you for all those years.”

  Abbie grumbled but hopped on one foot to the stairwell. There, Hunter swept her up in his arms again and lumbered heavily up the stairs, Liz close on his heels, her heart in her throat.

  At the landing, Liz heard a noise, and turned to the dormer window. Raindrops gently pattered against the windowpane. A second later, the sky opened and a deluge of rain poured down, sending rivulets of water cascading down the window, and sending a faint smile across Liz’s face.

  “That’ll stop the forest fire, won’t it?” Abbie asked.

  “Yup,” Hunter said. “Glad the rain waited until I got you in the house, though. Don’t know if my arms could take you sopping wet.” He continued up the stairs, pretending to drop Abbie, who giggled.

  When Hunter set Abbie down on the attic floor and turned on the light in the closet, illuminating what was there, the girl gasped. She hopped a few feet into the middle of the tight space and turned around, her e
yes wandering all over the walls, falling on the cradle with the baby blanket, pink cap, and identification bracelet.

  She looked at Liz, a question in her eyes. “Were these mine?” she asked.

  Liz bit her lip and tipped her head.

  “Oh…” Abbie whispered. She fingered the baby blanket, held the bracelet up to the light. “You did love me,” the girl said, her eyes welling up with tears. “Hunter said you both wanted me, but I didn’t believe him.”

  “It’s true,” Liz said.

  Abbie turned to Liz, tears now glistening on her cheeks. “He told me how you two were like Romeo and Juliet—your families were fighting and you weren’t allowed to see each other. And how you sneaked around behind their backs because you loved each other so much and couldn’t stay away. How because of that love, you ended up making me.”

  Liz couldn’t trust her voice not to crack, emotion heavy in the back of her throat.

  “He said you both wanted to keep me but that fate got in the way. Well, he said ‘crap,’ but I like ‘fate’ better. It sounds more romantic.” Abbie flashed a look at Liz, who gazed helplessly in the emerald-green eyes so like her own, but filled with confusion.

  Liz spoke, the words stifled by the tears clogging her throat. “We wanted you. We loved you very much. We always have, both of us, in our own way.”

  They had, she realized. She’d stuffed her love for their baby into a tight little closet, sealing off the rest of her life from the intensity of love and loss.

  And Hunter—she cast a glance at the man she’d fallen in love with when he’d been a boy. He stood with his back against the wall, one foot cocked over the other, thumbs tucked into his belt loops, smiling at their daughter with a look of love. Hunter had opened himself up to their daughter the minute Abbie needed him. He had dumped everything in his life to be there for her.

  “You know,” Abbie said softly, tracing a finger over the lettering on the wall, “besides the whole genetics thing, it looks there’s always been a piece of you with me.”