In an effort to stem Amber’s gossiping, something Misty disliked, she interrupted. “I knew it was silly to get all dressed up the minute I finished, but Amber, there’s something about him … He’s magnetic. I was daydreaming after seeing him yesterday and ran fifty report cards upside down! I think he’s really sad and lonely.” Like me. “Imagine how hard it must be to lose someone you love and your sight all at the same time like that, and if he was responsible in any way … ”
Amber looked at her, and Misty read the combination of shame and guilt on her face.
“I’m sorry. Since you never talk about Trent, I forget that you must still miss him. You and Nick may have something going for you after all. Maybe I’ll mention how ravishing you look tonight.”
At the look of horror that must have shown on her face, Amber laughed. “Just kidding! I wouldn’t do that to you. Come on, we don’t want to be late.”
Amber’s comment about Trent had struck a nerve. Misty hated the fact that she had to live a life based on lies and half-truths. Since she’d never even met Trent, and knew less about him than the people of Pine Falls did, she was terrified she’d blow her own cover. Letting Amber think she didn’t talk about him because she still missed him was the only thing she could do.
When they’d arrived in Pine Falls, she and Debbie had moved in with Amos and Beryl, staying with them more than eight weeks to establish their cover. For someone raised to tell the truth, this existence was galling. She’d told so many lies about herself over the years, she wasn’t sure she knew the truth anymore. According to her latest alibi, Misty had been involved with their son, Trent, four and a half years ago, just before he’d left with his Marine unit, and Debbie was their granddaughter, a love child whose existence had been unknown to them until recently.
With the death of her own parents, the young mother, destitute since she and Debbie had never been recognized as Trent’s family, had reached out to Amos and Beryl, and he’d gone to Seattle to verify her story. When DNA tests had proven Debbie was Trent’s daughter, Amos had brought them home. He’d arranged to change their names to Starr because he was sure his son would have done the “right thing” had he known. It was a complicated story, and Misty still worried about it, but Amos continued to assure her that its very complexity was the reason no one would question it. Her last covers had been simple, and they’d failed, so who was she to argue with him?
Both she and Debbie had grown very fond of the older couple, and now that they’d moved into their own home, they continued to be frequent visitors at the Starr house down the street. She’d seen pictures of Trent growing up and in his uniform. Amos had used Photoshop to add Trent into a picture Misty had of herself taken about a year after Debbie had been born after she’d lost what little pregnancy weight she’d gained.
Since their relationship was supposed to have been a short one, and the child conceived just before he’d gone overseas never to return, it wasn’t unusual that Misty had kept Debbie’s existence to herself. The fact Trent had mentioned meeting a nice girl in the last e-mail he’d sent his parents before shipping out had added an extra layer of authenticity to the story. Beryl had bragged that this might be the one. Trent had been killed in action four years ago during a covert ops mission and was buried at Arlington.
The Starrs were popular, well-respected members of the small upstate New York community along the shores of the Raquette River. Beryl had always wanted a grandchild, so she made a very believable doting grandma and had come to mean the world to Debbie.
Fearful of the mob’s reach, not only for herself but for her daughter, Misty had been prepared to do as she had done before — keep to herself, avoid socializing, and maintain a wary eye out for strangers who could potentially be dangerous to them. Amos had been adamant that such behavior would be suspicious because it would not be normal for someone her age, and Trent had never been withdrawn, so he’d never have chosen a girl who was. He’d had friends in Pine Falls — not many because he’d joined the Marines as soon as he’d finished college — but he’d still come home on leave.
She shook her head. One of these days she’d say the wrong thing, and where would they be then? She grabbed her coat and followed Amber to the car, locking the door behind them. She’d had the driveway sealed earlier in the day, so her car sat at the curb in front of the house.
“Wait,” Misty cried halfway down the front steps. “I didn’t turn out the light upstairs in the bathroom.”
“Just leave it. We’re running late as it is, and the electric bill won’t put you in the poor house.”
• • •
The number of comments and whistles when she entered the theater made Misty feel self-conscious. For them to get so excited about a little makeup, a new sweater, a pair of skinny jeans, and high-heeled boots, I must have looked pretty bad most of the time, she thought. Since tonight wasn’t a dress rehearsal, she was glad she’d paid extra attention to herself, even if it was for the wrong reason. While she didn’t like being the center of attention, something she’d avoided like the plague the last few years, she was girly enough to appreciate the compliments and allowed her self-esteem to climb a few notches. She’d been told she had a beautiful voice, but that was quite different from being told she was gorgeous.
Nick was occupied, rehearsing with the kids in the band, when they arrived. He seemed to be able to recognize everyone quickly — by voice and instrument, she supposed — and had an uncanny ability of knowing where each of them was. She had been sitting just watching him rehearse an instrumental with the students, close enough to watch his hands fly over the keys, and as soon as he’d finished, he’d turned toward her and smiled.
“Hi, Misty. How was your day? Did any other lost men turn up in your office?”
“No, so far you’re the only one,” she replied, unable to keep the happiness she felt out of her voice.
“Good.” He gave her that dazzling smile and winked before turning back to the students.
How had he known she was there? She hadn’t spoken or made any other sound that she was aware of, but he’d addressed her by name, joked about a personal experience, and it made her feel warm all over. He had such a beautiful smile, and the fact he’d aimed it directly at her made it even more precious.
The rest of the rehearsal had gone off without a hitch. She hoped to have a chance to speak to Nick, maybe invite him to have coffee with her the next time he was at the school. He’d mentioned a “second” date, hadn’t he? Before she could approach him, Martha asked her to come to the dressing room to take a look at the adjustments she’d made to her costume.
She went willingly with the costume director, eager to see what changes she’d made. Martha had replaced the heavy, pink headscarf with a light pink, sheer one that not only looked better but also gave her complexion a boost. She’d found another wig, one that sat comfortably on Misty’s head, and had adjusted the robe to fit and flatter her small frame. Misty had just finished removing the costume when her cell phone vibrated. She reached into the pocket of her jeans and took it out.
She glanced at the screen. It was a text message from Charlotte. Misty tried to relax and plant the idea into her mind that maybe Charlotte needed her to pick up milk or something on the way home. Lots of people used the phone for routine stuff like that, but the fear she’d lived with for so long insisted that it was bad news. Anxiety, which ratcheted up each second it took her to unlock the screen and open the message, had her heart pounding. She worried suddenly that something had happened to Debbie. For the last few years, every time her cell rang or vibrated when she was away from her daughter, she’d come close to panicking, but tonight’s message took her breath away and gave life to all her fears: “Don’t go home. Don’t panic. Your house is in flames. Children and I are safe at the clinic.”
Why do people say, “Don’t panic” when they know that’s the logical rea
ction to the news they’re delivering? She thought as she tried to maintain her composure.
Misty hurried upstairs into the theater, fear coursing through her, making her movements jittery. She hurried over to Amber, who stood waiting for her with some of the other members of the cast. Nick waited there, too. She saw the frown on his face but was too agitated to worry about what had annoyed him now.
“I’m sorry, Amber. I can’t go to Murphy’s. I have an emergency. I have to go.”
“Misty, what’s wrong?” Amber grabbed Misty’s arm before she could leave. “You’re as white as a ghost and shaking like a leaf. Where do you have to go? Is something wrong with Debbie? You don’t have a vehicle; I drove, remember?”
“I have to go. My house is on fire.” Misty tried to pull away from her, but Amber held onto her arm.
Amber cursed. “Let me get my jacket.”
“I’ll drive you to the clinic, Misty.” Micah entered the room. “Laura’s on her way there now. She’ll have a look at both girls and Charlotte. Don’t worry. I’m sure they’re all fine. The police took them in. It’s just a routine precaution.”
“It’s my fault,” whispered Misty. “I left the ceiling light on in the bathroom. It’s been acting up. The wiring is old, and I knew it should be inspected. It must have shorted out and started the fire. I knew I should have turned off that damn light; I knew it!”
“Hey, don’t beat yourself up about it.” Amber put a consoling arm around her. “If anyone is to blame, it’s me; I told you to leave it. You know how I am about being on time. I’m sorry, Misty.”
“No, it was my fault; I’m a big girl. I could have taken the time to go back in and go upstairs to turn that stupid light off. No one is to blame for this except me. If I hadn’t been so anxious to get here, I would have. How could I have been so stupid?”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Wait until you know what caused the fire before you take the blame for it.” Micah turned to the others in the room. “The volunteer firefighters are on site, so if any of you are part of that group, you’d better go. We’ll celebrate Lisa’s birthday another time. Nick, I’ll take you home after I take Misty to the clinic.”
Amber hugged her again. “I’m really sorry, Misty. I know how much you love that house. I’ll call Beryl and let her know you’re okay. I’m sure Amos is at the fire scene. Call me as soon as you know anything. I don’t care what time it is. You can stay with me as long as you need to. It’ll be cozy, but we’ll manage.”
Misty nodded, unable to speak. The fire had to have been her fault, or maybe a short elsewhere in the house caused by the old wiring because if it wasn’t, it meant they’d found her. She couldn’t go through that again, not now that she’d started to feel safe. She couldn’t leave Pine Falls. She loved it here.
The last eight months had been almost perfect. She thought they’d finally be able to stop running. Debbie had been sleeping through the night in her own bed. With another new identity and the friendliness of the small, close-knit community, not to mention the genuine love she’d developed for the Starrs, she’d begun to feel accepted. Now, all the fears that had assailed her after Kevin’s death and the trial resurfaced.
Terrified, her mind envisioning all kinds of horrors, she followed Nick and Micah out to the black SUV and climbed into the backseat. She was trembling. So cold, she thought. Will I ever feel safe and warm again? It startled her when Nick climbed into the backseat beside her.
“Come here.” He pulled her into his arms. She didn’t resist, needing the warmth and comfort he could provide.
He didn’t say a word, but cradled her, letting his body heat warm her. It would take ten minutes to get to the clinic, and Misty knew each of those minutes would seem like hours. Micah started the vehicle and pulled out of the parking lot. From the speed at which the streetlights passed, she knew he was breaking more than a couple of speed limit laws.
“Relax. She’ll be fine.” Nick rubbed her arm as if doing so would erase the tension in her. “My sister-in-law is one of the finest doctors I know. If she’s looking after your daughter, you have nothing to worry about. Now calm down and breathe. You’re almost in shock, and that’s the last thing you need right now. Your little girl’s been scared. You don’t want her to see how upset you are. She’ll need her mommy calm. How or why that fire started is the least of your problems. Let it go.”
She shivered again, and he pulled her closer. How the fire had started was more important than Nick could possibly imagine. She let the steady beating of his heart and the heat of his body ease her strained nerves. She allowed his words, the placating nonsense you said to soothe a friend, to permeate her jumbled mind and calm her. The smell of his aftershave, something light, woodsy, and pleasant, reminded her of her father.
Kevin had worn far heavier cologne, probably in an effort to disguise the cigarette smoke that had clung to him. You could smell the alcohol in it, as if it was on the verge of turning. After she’d left him, she’d wondered if what she’d smelled hadn’t been alcohol seeping from his pores and mingling with the aftershave; another thing she’d discovered about him too late was that he drank far more than she’d realized.
The difference between the man she’d married and the one holding her as if she were the most precious of things was amazing. Kevin had never treated her as if she were anything but an unwanted burden. He’d been happy enough to use her body, but when they’d created a child, he’d become a monster.
She looked up at Nick, and of its own volition, her hand reached out to touch his cheek. She could feel the stubble of his beard, and a tiny shiver of desire ran though her, but she quickly suppressed it. The muscle in his jaw jumped, but he didn’t make a sound. Curious, she reached up and traced the scar on his forehead and pushed back a curl that had slipped from his slicked-back style.
“Thank you,” she said, knowing he’d understand what she meant. “Debbie’s the most important person in my life. She’s all I have left. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost her.”
In the alternating light and darkness of the street lamps they passed, she could see kindness and compassion on his face. She lowered her hand, but he reached for it as if he didn’t want the skin-to-skin contact to end.
“You’re lucky you have her. My child never had a chance.” He swallowed audibly. “She’ll be fine; you’ll see. Now, close your eyes and think happy thoughts. You’re still upset, and you need to settle down a bit more before you see her. We’ll be there in less than five minutes.”
Misty sank deeper into his comforting arms. She selfishly accepted what he was offering. She could have sworn his lips had grazed her hair, but that was wishful thinking on her part. Her champion was offering her this comfort not out of any sense of attraction but out of the kinship of understanding and mutual loss. He’d lost his sight, his wife, and his child. How sad. If it had been his fault as Amber had implied, then the grief and guilt must eat at him constantly. It would be so nice to be able to share her burden with this wounded warrior, but she couldn’t. For the sake of her daughter, as well as Beryl and Amos, no one must ever know the truth.
Chapter Five
Nick pressed his lips against Misty’s hair. She felt so good in his arms, as if she belonged there. He found himself wishing she did. What would life have been like if he’d met her before he’d met Rebecca? Would the child in the clinic now have been his? Would they be supporting one another or blaming one another for what had happened? No, Misty would never blame someone to avoid taking responsibility for her actions; she wasn’t Rebecca. She didn’t have a mean bone in her body.
He inhaled Misty’s scent, and a primeval need to protect her flooded him. Until this moment, he hadn’t realized he’d do anything he could for her and the child she loved so intensely. He didn’t understand how or why, but he knew he cared for this woman more deeply than he’d ever cared for anyone. He’
d thought he’d loved Rebecca, but the feelings he’d had for her paled in comparison to the way he felt now. It wasn’t logical. It wasn’t rational, but it was powerful and compelling. He might be blind, but he had a fortune and a small army of trained people to call on to keep her safe.
He didn’t know why she needed to assume the blame for the fire, but he knew that the possibility she might not be responsible terrified her. What was she hiding? How could he help her if he didn’t understand the problem?
What he wouldn’t give to have his sight again. The doctors he’d consulted, among the best in the world, all agreed there was no physical reason why he couldn’t see, but they were wrong; they had to be. How could he be blind if there was nothing wrong with his eyes? Conversion disorder, they called it; what the hell was that? A mental and emotional problem rather than a physical reason for an ailment? It was all bullshit. Did they really believe it was all in his head? He might have been distraught and depressed after the accident, might have blamed himself, but he was fine now, so why couldn’t he see? Did they really think he wanted to be blind? Did they think he really wanted to keep punishing himself this way? Dammit! He wanted to see! And now, because of Misty, he had more reason than ever to want his vision restored.
He opened his eyes each morning, hoping somehow the blackness of the purgatory in which he found himself would be gone. The accident hadn’t been his fault. He knew that, didn’t he?
When Rebecca had called him in London to tell him about the baby and her plans to “take care of it,” he’d pleaded with her to wait until his tour was over, a week at best, so they could talk about it. When he’d returned from his tour, he’d gone directly to her opening and, seeing her with champagne in her glass, had known his flesh and blood was gone. Rebecca had laughed at him, calling him all kinds of a fool if he’d really expected her to ruin her body and her career for some brat.
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