by Marta Perry
“Laura...” Lainey began and then stopped, frowning.
“What about Laura? Do you think she was the person who attacked you?” Jake zeroed in on her face, but Lainey was already shaking her head.
“Not that,” she murmured. “But I’d nearly forgotten. She spoke to me at the festival. Insisted she had to talk to me alone.”
That much speaking seemed to wear her out, and she sank back against the pillow.
“I still can’t believe Laura could have killed Aaron.” Rachel pleated her fingers together in distress. “She loved him. Why would she hurt him?”
“You’re forgetting what Aaron told my cousin about Laura being pregnant.” Meredith leaned forward, a wing of brown hair swinging against her cheek. “Suppose he wanted her to marry him right away. They might have quarreled about it. She could have seen all she stood to lose—her education, her freedom, the life she had.”
“But even if she did, why attack me?” Lainey spoke with an effort, and she took a sip of the tea to punctuate her words.
“With her scrambled mind, it’s hard to tell,” Meredith said. “She does seem to be fascinated by you.”
“You said she tried to get you to meet her alone,” Jake pointed out. “Maybe when you didn’t respond, she decided to come to you.”
As soon as he’d spoken, he regretted it. Lainey looked upset again, her eyes darkening, and the mug shook a little. Angry at himself, he reached out to take it from her.
“Enough talk,” he said. “We’re not going to solve it tonight, and you need rest.”
Rachel responded immediately to the warning look he sent her. She rose, beckoning to Meredith. “You’re right, of course. We can talk it over tomorrow, when we can all think more clearly.”
Meredith bent to pat Lainey’s hand. “Just tell Jake to call me if you need anything.”
He gave her a mock frown. “What would she need that I can’t get her?”
“Sometimes only another woman will do,” she said loftily. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“The same goes for me,” Rachel said. She dropped a light kiss on Lainey’s cheek. “Try not to worry too much. Jake will keep you safe, and we’ll figure it out.” She held Lainey’s glance for a long moment, almost as if some unspoken message was passed between them.
They left, finally, and Jake locked the door behind them, very aware of being alone in the house with Lainey.
He couldn’t deny any longer the strong attraction she held for him. And he cared for her—that much was evident in his reaction to her being in danger. But Lainey Colton was still exactly the sort of woman he’d promised himself he wouldn’t fall for.
She’ll be leaving, a little voice in his brain reminded him. And you’re both grown-ups.
Tucking that away to be considered later, he went back to the living room to find Lainey struggling to get up.
“Hey, what are you doing?” He rushed to steady her.
“Just thought I’d go to bed. I can make it—”
He picked her up easily in his arms. “Even if you can, you’re not going to.”
Ignoring her muttered protests, he carried her upstairs, the cat scampering under his feet. He pushed open the door to the bedroom she indicated, and put her gently on the bed. Predictably, the cat jumped up beside her and curled up.
Lainey relaxed against the pillow, and he suspected she had trouble keeping her eyes open.
“Pajamas? Nightgown?” he asked. “I’ll bring it to you.”
“Nightshirt,” she murmured. “Top drawer.”
He found a pale green nightshirt and brought it to her.
“I can manage,” she said.
He smiled. “I don’t doubt it.” He bent over her, bracing himself with a hand on either side of her, and kissed her. He had a struggle to keep it light, and even so, when he drew back they were both breathing quickly.
“Jake...” she began.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I have a rule. I never make love to a woman who’s doped up on pain meds.” He’d better get out while he could still make good on that pledge. “I’ll be checking on you through the night. I’ll leave this door open. If you call, I’ll hear.”
Not waiting for a response or an argument, he went out quickly and started down the stairs, safely away from temptation. He might as well make himself comfortable in the padded rocker.
Who could have attacked Lainey? He leaned back in the chair. Zeb came to mind, just based on that recent quarrel over the deed to the farm. But somehow he couldn’t picture Zeb in the role of attacker, not over a piece of property. He might bend the rules and exert his influence to get his own way, but outright violence was so foreign to the Amish that such an attack verged on the impossible. Still, Zeb couldn’t be ignored.
He couldn’t help feeling that there was more at stake here than any of them had dreamt of. Laura? Well, she was a possibility, no matter what reason she might have. And she was certainly unstable. It might pay to make some discreet inquiries as to whether someone kept an eye on her at night.
Nothing more was likely to happen, but he wasn’t about to go to sleep, not with Lainey lying upstairs virtually helpless. Half the Amish in the township probably had keys to this house, and who knew how many other people might have access to those keys.
No, he’d be staying awake tonight. Anyone who attempted to get to Lainey would have to go through him.
* * *
LAINEY WAS RUNNING as fast as she could, but it wasn’t fast enough. The thing behind her was coming closer. Choking back a sob, she stumbled between the trees, a branch raking her hair. It hurt, but she couldn’t stop—if she stopped the thing would get her, she’d be going down, down, down in the water—
Gasping for breath, she put on a little burst of speed, free of the trees now, she could see the moon, if she could make it to the house she’d be safe. But the brambles caught at her clothes, dragged at her hair, holding her back. One slipper came off. She raced on, hearing the thing behind her crashing through the brambles. Her foot hurt, she couldn’t catch her breath....
And then she was out into grass, damp and rustling as she staggered through, lightning bugs rising from the ground, only last night they’d been catching them, putting them in a jar....
A light that meant the house, a voice calling, she was almost there, but something caught at her clothing, dragging her, and she was stumbling, falling, down, down, down—
With a sharp gasp, Lainey bolted upright in the bed, scrambling for her wits. A nightmare. But someone was there, someone was touching her, trying to hold her—she fought, arms flailing, until a voice penetrated her terror.
“Lainey, it’s okay. It’s me, Jake. You just had a nightmare.”
She stopped, blinking her eyes against the soft glow of the bedside battery lamp as he turned it on. Jake—solid, stable, looking at her with concern, his hair rumpled, his face distressed.
“Jake.” She breathed the name.
Some of the worry slipped from his face. “That’s right. You’re safe. The attacker is long gone, and you’re safe. I won’t let anyone get near you.”
Lainey pushed tangled hair away from her face. “Sorry. Did I...”
“You cried out,” he said. “I came running from downstairs, sure someone was attacking you.” His face tightened at the memory.
Lainey tried to manage a smile. “Only in my dreams.”
“It’s not surprising you’d relive the attack in a nightmare.” He reached out for her robe, which hung over the bottom of the bed, and tucked it around her shoulders, his hands gentle.
Realizing he was carefully avoiding looking at the V of her nightshirt, she pulled the robe on.
“I suppose so.” She frowned. “Funny, though,” she murmured, her voice hoarse. “I didn’t dream about what happened tonight. It was something else—another time.” She shook her head. “The same dream I had when I first came back to this house.”
Jake, sitting on the bed next to her, was very close.
In the glow of the lamp she saw his face become still and watchful. “Can you tell me about it?”
Her immediate revulsion was probably obvious in her face. She didn’t want to talk about it. She wanted to forget it.
“Please, Lainey,” he urged. “It might be important. Tell me now, before it fades.”
He was right about that, of course. Dreams, even nightmares, did fade very quickly in the light. If she was going to tell it, it had better be now.
“I was running in the woods. Lots of trees around, anyway. Running away from something terrible.” Her voice shook a little, but her throat didn’t hurt as much to talk now.
“Do you know what?” he asked gently.
“No.” She pressed her fingers to her forehead, trying to concentrate. “Just that I’m afraid. I bump into branches, but I keep running. Then I’m out of the trees, but there are brambles tearing at me.” She rubbed her arms, seeming to feel the scratches. “The thing behind is closer.” She couldn’t help it—her voice shook.
Jake ran his hands down her arms, their warmth taking the chill away. “You’re safe.”
She was caught in the dream memory. “I get out of the brambles, into the grass.”
“Do you see anything else?”
“Lightning bugs. And a light ahead of me. If I can get to the light I’ll be safe. But I fall—” She stopped. Took a breath. “That’s all. The dream always ends when I fall.” She cleared her throat. “Isn’t it the height of self-absorption, telling someone your dreams?”
Jake handed her the water bottle from the bedside table, and she drank thirstily.
“I asked, remember?” Jake smiled, but she sensed that his mind was busy behind the smile.
“It was probably just my subconscious way of dealing with what happened tonight. Bringing up a childhood boogeyman.”
“Why childhood?” His tone was sharp.
“I...I don’t know. I guess I felt as if I were a child in the dream. What difference does it make?”
“I’m not sure,” Jake said. He set the bottle back and took her hands in his, stroking them gently. Every nerve end seemed alive to his touch, and he wasn’t even noticing. “Think about the details in your dream. First the woods, then the brambles, then the tall grass. That’s a description of what you’d go through if you were running from the dam back toward this house. With someone chasing you.”
Lainey jerked her hands away from his. “No.” She didn’t want to go there. She wouldn’t. “You’re thinking of when Aaron was killed, aren’t you?”
His gaze met hers steadily. “How can I help but think of that? You were here that night. You have a recurring dream of running away with someone chasing you. You—”
“Plenty of people have nightmares about being chased in the dark. It’s a classic dream, like having to take a test you’re not prepared for. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Answer me this, then. How do you feel when you go to the dam now?”
The question stilled the protests she wanted to make. “I haven’t. I haven’t gone back there.” She tried to ignore the queasy feeling in her stomach at the idea—the sense of dread creeping along her skin. “That doesn’t mean anything,” she said quickly. “Why should I go there? I don’t particularly want to see the place where Aaron died.”
“Is that why you went white at the thought of it?”
She glared at him. “All right, the place scares me. And maybe the dreams do have something to do with Aaron’s death. That still doesn’t mean I was out that night. Why would I be?”
His eyes didn’t waver. “You mentioned that you sleepwalked as a child.”
“It’s ridiculous.” The words rasped, all the more painful because she was afraid he might be right. “Even if what you’re thinking did happen, I don’t remember anything useful, so what difference does it make?”
His fingers gripped her hands tightly. “Think about it, Lainey. If someone is afraid that you know, it puts you in danger. It would be a much more reasonable explanation of what happened tonight than any I’ve heard so far.”
Lainey shook her head, feeling a longing to put her hands over her ears like a rebellious child, denying that she heard him. “I don’t want to go to the dam.”
“All the more reason why you should. It might help you actually remember. Dreams aren’t evidence.”
So much for the idea that Jake felt protective of her. He was about as protective as a bulldozer.
“I don’t want to.” She sounded like a stubborn child. She jerked her hands free of his and rubbed her arms. “It will be...painful.”
“The truth is worth the temporary pain.” His tone was uncompromising. Obviously to him, truth wasn’t relative.
So where did that leave her? She ought to level with him about her past. She shouldn’t try to live a lie where Jake was concerned. But if she did, he’d never look at her the same again. Either way, she lost.
Of course Jake couldn’t know what was in her mind. He leaned toward her, his face softening, and touched her cheek. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t badger you about it at a time like this. Just think about it, okay?”
She nodded.
His face was very close to hers, his fingers warm against her skin. “It’s going to be all right,” he said, his voice soft. “Try to get some sleep. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”
He kissed her, his lips gentle against hers, but even that light touch sent longing surging through her. For a moment he looked at her, his eyes dark with a matching longing. Then he turned and went quickly out of the room.
She lay back against the pillows and listened to the sound of his footsteps going away from her down the stairs.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SITTING ACROSS FROM Lainey at the breakfast table was oddly intimate, Jake realized. At least she wasn’t wearing only that thin nightshirt she’d had on last night. She’d pulled on sweatpants and a sweatshirt before coming downstairs, as if she expected to be cold. Or maybe it was a matter of longing for comfort after such a bad night.
How many people had taken note of the fact that his car had been parked there all night? Too many, he supposed. The rumors would be flying.
And they’d be true, in a way. He and Lainey had spent the night together, but not in the way that expression normally implied.
“More coffee?” Lainey gestured with the pot, and he nodded.
“I need it. Lack of sleep makes my brain foggy.”
Her hand seemed steady as she poured, but the purple shadows were like bruises under her eyes. Lainey’s face was closed, giving no clue to her thoughts.
His own could best be described as mixed. Logic said he shouldn’t become involved with Lainey, but his feelings informed him it was too late for that solution.
He took a long gulp of hot coffee—hot enough to burn some of the fog away. They had to take action of some sort. “We have to do something.”
She looked up, startled, her eyes questioning. “About what?”
“About all of it.” Jake gestured, trying to include the vandalism, the witchcraft business, the attack last night. “We can’t just go on waiting for the next bad thing to happen.” He set the mug down with a clink on the wooden table. “But what? I don’t think we can count on the local police for much help. This whole situation is too amorphous for Burkhalter to get hold of.”
“I agree with you about the police.” She seemed to be speaking carefully, as if an unwary word might pain her neck. “But what other options are there?”
Jake hated to say it, knowing her feelings, but he had to. “There are your nightmares.”
Lainey pushed her plate away. “You want me to go back to the dam.”
“I’m sorry.” He reached across the top of the table to let his fingertips brush hers. “I know you don’t like it. But if there’s a chance you might remember something, isn’t it worthwhile?”
She stared at him for a long moment, her face stony. Suddenly she seemed to wilt. “All right. I know it won’
t do any good, but let’s go to the dam and get it over with.”
“Now?” He blinked as she rose, apparently ready to walk out the door.
“I don’t appreciate feeling like a coward.” Her fingers tightened on the back of the chair. “We’ll do it now, and then I can stop thinking about it.”
Did she imagine that would end the dreams she had about the place? Well, maybe it would. He was no psychologist. “All right. You might want a jacket. It’ll be chilly outside.”
Lainey went to the coat closet, returning in a moment with a heavy sweater which she pulled on over the sweatshirt. Her movements were stiff, as if she were forcing her body to cooperate.
Was he doing the right thing in pushing this? He wasn’t sure. He just knew that it was worth it if it led them to the truth.
Lainey hesitated at the door, so he opened it and stepped outside first. The chill air made his senses tingle. “Crisp out here,” he said. He held the door, understanding when it took her a moment to come through.
Once Lainey stood on the porch she stopped, as if regrouping.
“Let me have a quick look around now that it’s daylight,” he said. “I might spot something the police didn’t see last night.”
Lainey nodded, seeming satisfied to stand gripping the porch post while he descended the couple of steps to ground level.
The soft earth around the flowers that edged the porch seemed undisturbed. He’d think the intruder must have paused somewhere nearby to reconnoiter, making sure Lainey was alone before acting.
The large shrub at the corner of the porch was the closest bit of cover. A quick look was enough to show him that someone had been there—the grass was still flattened, and several small twigs had been broken.
“Someone was here, I think,” he said, and was relieved when Lainey managed to pry herself away from the porch post to join him.
“It could have been the police.” She fingered a broken branch. “If it was the...the person who attacked me, why would he or she hang around here?”
He noted her careful inclusion of both pronouns. “You didn’t get a sense of whether it was a man or woman?”