“Careful,” he said. “It’s like a skating rink out here.”
She was eminently grateful she’d brought her boots. Otherwise, in the shoes she’d worn for her date, she’d have broken her ankle by now. She was also grateful for Garrett’s steady arm keeping her vertical.
He pointed ahead. “Looks like there’s a thicket of trees over there and possibly a structure.”
The wind howled around them, whipping the edges of her scarf out to the side like a flag on a pole. Where could Martin be in this weather? She clamped her lips together to contain a cry of frustration. They were supposed to be rescuing him. Instead, they found themselves in a potentially worse predicament.
“It’s a run-down barn,” Garrett said, relief evident in his voice. “We should find some shelter there.”
She squinted in front of them. Sure enough, a rough structure appeared out of the haze. It was indeed an old barn, though half its roof had caved in.
When they reached what appeared to be the main door, Garrett grasped the rusted handle and yanked hard. After two more tries, the coating of ice broke and the door creaked open. He aimed the beam of his flashlight into the interior.
“I’ll go first to make sure it’s safe,” he said. “And that no animals are hiding inside.”
She shivered but nodded. Huddling under a tree to wait, she stuffed her hands into her coat pockets, wishing again that she’d remembered her gloves.
Several moments later, he returned. “It’s empty and a little drier at least.”
She took his hand and together they went in. The wind whistled through the missing boards, but at the far end of the structure, a portion of the roof remained intact, providing them with a degree of shelter.
As they stood for a moment taking in their surroundings, she shook some of the moisture from her scarf and coat. The air was musty but breathable, although it wasn’t ideal with the layers of dust coating everything. They moved farther down to a dry stall, where the flashlight’s beam showed a thin layer of straw covering the wooden floor. Garrett looked around and gathered some burlap sacks from on top of a barrel, then arranged them on the floor.
“Sit here,” he said. He helped ease her onto the ground, then crouched in front of her, setting the flashlight on the barrel, aimed toward her. “Let me take a look at your head.”
His eyes were so intent on her—so close to her face—that her lungs seized. Maybe she’d hit her head harder than she thought. His chilled fingers brushed her forehead, tenderly probing the area around the wound. His gaze dropped to hers. “The cut isn’t deep, but you’ll probably have a large bruise.”
His hands moved slowly down to feel her shoulder, and she winced.
“I don’t think it’s broken or dislocated, but you’ll need to have a doctor examine it.” He closed his eyes then and rested his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”
Ice beat against the roof, and farther down the enclosure, water dripped through various holes in the wood.
“I should have turned back as soon as the rain started,” he said, thick self-loathing in his voice.
She reached up with her good hand to touch his cheek. “It’s not your fault, Garrett. You can’t control the weather.”
“It’s not just the weather.” He moved away from her hand and slumped onto the ground beside her. “You were right about the Blackwoods. They’re too inexperienced. I let my pride get in the way and ignored your advice.” A loud sigh escaped. “If anything happens to him . . .” He broke off, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Martin is a survivor. He’ll be okay. You’ll see.” She prayed she wasn’t giving Garrett false hope, but she had to say something. She’d never seen him so defeated, so unsure of himself.
“Now I’ve involved you in a car accident and got you stuck in this horrible place. What is wrong with me?”
For a moment, she resisted the urge to say anything, not fully trusting herself. They were in a highly charged situation, heightening every emotion between them. Yet she couldn’t deny the strong pull toward him. After almost two weeks of no contact, she now soaked in every detail about him. The familiar scent of his shaving lotion, the intensity of his eyes, the fierce way he cared about those around him. And most especially, the way he loved Martin as much as she did.
Gently, she touched his chin, forcing him to look at her. “Nothing’s wrong with you, Garrett. Nothing at all.” Then, before she could stop herself, she leaned over and kissed him.
His lips were cold, but it took only seconds for them to become warm. With a jerk, he sat up straighter, and his arm came around her, gently tugging her closer.
“Jane.” He breathed her name like a prayer. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you. Nothing has been the same without you.”
His mouth claimed hers again, this time with more intensity, until her brain buzzed like a short-circuited wire, and warmth infused her very core. Even with the pain in her shoulder, she felt more alive in this moment than she ever had in the past two weeks.
Her mind flew to the few tentative kisses she’d shared with Donald, knowing his embrace couldn’t begin to compare to Garrett’s. And suddenly she realized why marrying Donald would never work. How could it when she was completely in love with Garrett?
Garrett held back a frustrated groan. Now he’d done it. One kiss was all it took to bring his feelings roaring back to life, larger and more intense than ever.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have kissed you that way. Not when you’re with someone else now.” He shook his head, the warmth beginning to fade from his system. “Can you forgive me?”
“I believe I was the one who kissed you.” Her chin lowered until it rested on her coat. “You must think I’m a terrible person.”
“Of course not. I could never think that.”
When she raised her head to look at him, his stomach clenched at the sheen of tears in her eyes.
“Donald and I have come a long way these past two weeks, and his little boy is the most precious thing ever.” She bit her lip. “But I think I’ve made a huge mistake.”
“Why is that?” He held his breath, a fragile hope fluttering to life inside him.
She picked at the ice melting on the edges of her scarf. “I thought being a mother to Patrick and being able to adopt Martin would make it all worthwhile. That I could learn to love Donald again.” Her lashes fluttered down. “But I don’t think it’s going to be possible—” she hesitated—“because of my feelings for you.”
Her words made his heart soar, yet at the same time, the weight of an anvil sat on his chest. Had his selfishness sabotaged her last chance to have a family of her own? His own health situation remained the same, and even though he now had his name on a waiting list for the specialist, it likely wouldn’t change anything. Still, he owed her the complete truth.
“I feel the same about you, Jane. If I could—if I had nothing impeding my future—I’d ask you to be my wife.”
“Oh, Garrett.” She covered her mouth with one hand.
“But the fact remains I have two pieces of shrapnel in my body waiting to destroy me. And it wouldn’t be fair to subject you to that type of uncertainty. Nor would it be fair to Martin or any other child we might adopt. I could never be that selfish.”
She tilted her head, her eyes huge in her pale face. “Only God knows the number of our days, Garrett. There’s no guarantee that anyone will live to old age.”
He quirked a wry brow. “No, but the likelihood seems far less certain for me.”
“But I love you.” The words erupted from her lips as tears shook loose to trail down over her face. “I love you, and I’m willing to take the chance.”
His heart gave a leap at the unexpected beauty of her words, and he absorbed the pure joy of it for a heartbeat.
“I love you too, Jane.” He expelled a long breath that hung in front of them in a wispy cloud. “But marriage is not a possibility. Especially since I won’t be
able to . . .” He clamped his lips shut. Frustration pulsed at his temples, through his veins.
“To what?”
“To love you the way a husband should. It would be too risky.” He wanted to roar out loud at the unfairness of life. It would be pure agony to be married to her and not be able to share a physical union.
“I never thought about that.” A blush bled into her cheeks.
Unable to bear her scrutiny, Garrett focused his gaze on the rotting wall beside him. “You should try to make it work with Donald. He can give you everything I can’t.” He closed his eyes, the mere thought of her sharing herself with someone else spearing his heart more than any piece of shrapnel ever could.
She took his hand in her cold one. “If you’re worried about me, don’t be. I love you, shrapnel or no shrapnel. We can make it work. I know we can.”
Reluctantly, he turned back to face her. “That’s noble of you.” He gave her a wistful smile. “But I honestly don’t know if I can say the same. To share my life with you, my bed with you, and not be able to love you, would be sheer torture.”
Silence filled the barn, broken only by the fury of the storm outside.
“I suppose you’re right,” she said finally, staring at him with large, sad eyes. “Will you do something for me?”
“Anything.”
“Will you see another doctor to find out if anything more can be done?”
His mouth twisted with the irony of it all. “As a matter of fact, I called the specialist last week. I’m on a waiting list to see him, but I’m not getting my hopes up. And you shouldn’t either.”
A smile hovered on her lips, but her expression remained sad. “I won’t. But I will pray. Extra hard.”
“Jane. I wish . . .” Frustration tore through him. He should have left her alone. Left her to make a life with Donald. Now he’d given her false hope for the future. Why Lord? Why did you make me love her when I can never have her?
“Let’s leave it in God’s hands,” she said firmly. “I trust He has our best interests at heart. Until we know anything for certain, let’s just be happy with the time we have right now.”
He stared at her. She was so brave, so beautiful. How could he ever let her go? “I can do that,” he said, only because there was no other option at the moment.
Breathing out a reluctant sigh, he laid his head against hers. He could already feel his limbs stiffening from the cold, and he forced his brain to focus back on their current situation. “Are you warm enough?”
“Not really. Could we try to make a fire?”
“I don’t think so. We have no matches or any way to start one.”
“Then I guess we’ll have to keep each other warm until the sleet stops.” She smiled at him through the tears still sitting on her lashes.
Resisting the longing to kiss her again, he reached over to snap off the flashlight. Then he put his arms around her, drawing her against his chest, and prayed the night would pass quickly.
36
Despite the cold, Jane fell into a fitful sleep, cocooned in Garrett’s arms. Even amid their dire circumstances, she’d never felt safer. How long she slept she couldn’t tell, but when she finally roused, Garrett was staring down at her.
“I think the weather has let up,” he said. “I should leave and go for help.”
She moved away from him, attempting to shake off her sleep and become more alert. “I’m coming with you.”
He frowned. “You’d be safer here. A fall on the ice might damage your shoulder more.”
“With you helping me, I won’t fall. Besides, I don’t do well sitting and waiting.”
“All right,” he sighed. “I know better than to argue with you.” He pulled himself slowly to a standing position. “Between the cold and stiffness from sitting on the ground, I feel like an old man.” He stretched his neck and shoulders, then held out a hand to help Jane to her feet.
Even without gloves, his hands were still slightly warm around her cold ones.
Her knees creaked as she rose, pain shooting through her shoulder. All her joints felt fused, in need of oiling, like the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz.
Garrett kept her hand in his as they made their way outside. From the lightness of the sky, Jane gauged it to be somewhere around six thirty or seven in the morning. Her empty stomach cramped. Mama would be so worried.
Lord, please comfort my mother and let her know I’m coming home soon.
The still-frozen ground forced them to pick their way slowly across the uneven terrain. She was surprised to be able to see Garrett’s car in the distance, still sitting at a strange angle. Last night, it seemed they’d walked in the sleet for ages before coming upon the deserted barn.
As they got closer to the road, another car pulled up near Garrett’s.
“Hey, we may be luckier than I thought,” he said. “I think that’s a police car.”
They quickened their pace as much as they could. Up ahead, a man emerged from the other vehicle and stood, staring down at Garrett’s car. From the man’s uniform, it appeared Garrett was right.
“It is a policeman,” he said. “Maybe he can drive us to a garage.”
He waved his arms as they walked, trying to catch the man’s attention.
At last, they reached the ditch and the car. “Hello,” Garrett called. “Thank goodness you’re here.”
“Is this your vehicle?” the officer asked.
“Yes, sir. We slid into the ditch last night.”
“Why were you out in such bad weather?”
“We were looking for a boy who’d run away from his foster home. The ice storm came on all of a sudden. I was trying to pull over, but the car had other ideas.” He helped Jane navigate the trench and come up onto the roadside. “I’m Garrett Wilder, interim director of the Children’s Aid Society, and this is Jane Linder, the boy’s caseworker.”
“I’m Officer Samuels.”
“Can you tell me if anyone reported a boy named Martin Smith missing?” Garrett asked. “Or better yet, if he’s been found?”
“Sorry. I haven’t heard anything. The call could have come in to a different division, though.” He gestured to the car. “That’s quite an angle. Must have been fun getting out. No one injured, I hope?” The officer peered at Jane’s forehead.
“Jane got the worst of it. A bump on the head and a bruised shoulder.”
“You should probably get checked out by a doctor, ma’am.” The man scanned the landscape. “Where have you been all this time?”
“We found shelter in an old barn.” Garrett pointed across the field. “It wasn’t much, but it kept us dry at least.”
The policeman raised his brows. “Lucky it was there. Would have been an even more miserable night without it.”
“We could use a lift into town, if possible,” Jane said. “My elderly mother will be worried sick about me.” She shivered. “Are the roads drivable now?”
“They’re still a little slippery but much better than last night.”
Garrett pulled the collar of his jacket up around his ears. “If you wouldn’t mind radioing for a tow service, I’ll wait here.”
“It’s still pretty raw out,” the officer observed. “Why don’t I drop you at the nearest garage and you can wait in the warmth for the next available truck?”
“That sounds like a better idea.” The lines in Garrett’s forehead eased, and he gave Jane’s fingers a silent squeeze.
A surge of relief spilled through her that she wouldn’t have to be separated from him just yet.
The three of them climbed into the patrol car, with Jane in the middle between the two men. The heat blasting from the vents felt wonderful. She stretched her fingers out toward it.
Officer Samuels put the car into gear and pulled slowly away from the roadside. Gravel spun out from the tires.
Jane glanced over at Garrett. “What should we do next to find Martin?”
“I’ll call the Blackwoods to see if there’s been a
ny news. If I can get my car back on the road, I’ll continue from where we left off.” Garrett peered around her to stare at the officer. “We’d appreciate any help you can give us with our search, sir.”
The man stared straight ahead. “How old did you say the boy is?”
“Eight going on nine.”
“I’ve got a son the same age. I can’t imagine what I’d do if he’d been out alone in this weather all night.” He shot a worried glance at Garrett. “When I get back to the station, I’ll see if anyone’s on the case and round up as many men as I can. Don’t worry. We’ll find him.”
“You can let me off at the corner up ahead, Officer Samuels,” Jane said as they turned onto her street. “My mother has a weak heart, and if she sees a police car pull up, it might be too much for her.”
After the officer had let Garrett off at the mechanic’s, he’d insisted on driving Jane home before heading into the station, an offer she didn’t refuse.
For the first time, the man’s lips twisted into a half-smile. “I understand.” He glanced at her forehead, where she was certain an ugly bruise had bloomed. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take you to the hospital?”
“That’s not necessary. It’s only a small cut. And my shoulder is only bruised.” At least she hoped that’s all it was. It still ached when she lifted her arm, but she was fairly certain it wasn’t serious.
The car slowed to a stop by the curb a few houses away from hers. “Thanks again for your help. We appreciate anything you’re able to do to find Martin.”
“My pleasure, ma’am. And try to refrain from sliding off any icy roads in the future.” He gave her a wink, then handed her a business card. “I’ll try to keep you and Mr. Wilder informed about the search for the boy. But here’s my number in case you need to contact me.”
“Thank you.” She pocketed the card, then got out and closed the door with a wave.
The sidewalk was almost bare, the ice having already melted away. In the city’s core, the temperature was always warmer. Perhaps they hadn’t even had the same sleet as in the open countryside.
To Find Her Place Page 28