At the Midnight Hour (23 page)

Abruptly the phone rang, scattering her hazy memories. The childhood day was suddenly gone and she was back to being the adult Liz again, sitting in a darkened room with shadowed corners. Puzzled, she picked up the phone next to the bed.

“Hello?” she asked, sitting down tentatively on the edge of the bed.

“A Mr. Guiness for you,” came the distinctly disapproving voice of Mrs. Pram. Then, before Liz had time to reply, there was the sharp click of Mrs. Pram hanging up.

“Liz?” came a deep male voice Liz would have recognized anywhere. “Liz, are you all right?”

She couldn’t help herself, a smile broke out across her face even as the tears welled up in her eyes. The past and the present, the sunshine and shadows merged suddenly, all with the sound of his voice. It was Mitch, her dear, oldest brother, who always knew exactly when to call and exactly what to say.

“Of course I’m all right,” she replied, though her voice came out choked and tear-soaked. “How are you?”

“Fine, fine,” Mitch said, his voice dismissive. “You’re sure you’re all right?”

Liz nodded into the phone, suddenly understanding completely. “You had one of your spells, didn’t you?” she asked calmly. Mitch never liked to talk about it, but every now and then, he got these intuitions, very strong intuitions. Like the one that had him on a plane back to Maddensfield even as Nick was being shot. The one that had led him to the hospital first, so he could hold her in his big strong arms while she cried out all her shock and grief and horror.

“Yeah,” Mitch agreed gruffly. “I did. Now, are you going to tell your big brother what’s going on?”

It was tempting, Liz thought. Tempting just to tell him everything. From the time she was born, she’d been convinced there was nothing Mitch couldn’t do, and over the years, he’d never disappointed her. The eldest of her four brothers, he was the most responsible one. He had been the one to bring home all sorts of stray animals, quietly and thoroughly caring for each one, much as he had looked after his four younger siblings. He worked for the FBI now, and though he didn’t talk about his job much, Liz knew all she had to do was tell him everything, and he would take care of her.

But, as she tucked the receiver against her ear, Liz knew she wouldn’t tell him about Richard’s bitter past or the looming present dangers. Because she’d come here to grow, to build a new life away from Maddensfield. And that meant standing on her own two feet. That meant fighting her own wars and slaying her own dragons.

“There was just a small accident,” she said at last. “But no one was hurt. Honest.”

There was silence on the other end as Mitch was apparently considering this information. And in that silence, she could hear his disbelief.

“Is the family treating you all right?” Mitch asked finally.

Liz didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “They’re not exactly what I was expecting,” she admitted. “But Mitch, the little boy here, he needs me so much. And I know I can help him. It’s just going to take time and a miracle or two.”

“If anyone can work a miracle,” Mitch told her assuredly, “you can.”

She felt another tear well up, streaking down her face. God, it was so good to hear his voice, to hear one person make it all seem so simple again. And for an instant, she almost gave in and told him everything. But then her resolution came back to her, and she stiffened her spine.

“Learn any good magic tricks lately?” she asked instead, switching the topic altogether. In her mind, she could see his answering smile.

“None as good as the disappearing act you pulled,” he told her lightly.

“What about women?” she teased, beginning to regain her composure now. “Any good blondes to break your heart?”

“Now, you know, little sis, you’ll be the only woman capable of breaking my heart.”

She laughed, the sound still wobbly, but getting better. Then she sobered.

“Things really are all right,” she told him, serious now. “I’m glad I did this, Mitch. I’m glad I came here. It was the right thing to do.”

There was another small moment of silence, then at last she could hear the pent-up sigh in his voice.

“Listen,” Mitch said, his voice as serious as her own, “I’ve got to go away for a couple of weeks. You know the drill. But if you need me, Liz, if you need anything at all, you let me know, okay? Contact the number in D.C. I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

“I know,” she told him, “but honestly, Mitch, I can handle this. Your little sister is growing up, you know?”

“I know, I know,” he said, but his voice said he didn’t find the idea comforting. “Well, I’d better let you get your beauty rest. Take care, Liz. And, well—” his voice grew a little gruff “—I’m proud of you. And I love you.”

She smiled, feeling the tears threaten again. She took a steadying breath. “I love you, too, big brother. And Mitch, be careful.”

He agreed as he always did, and then he was gone, just the dial tone ringing in her ear. She set the receiver down slowly, willing the tightness in her chest to leave her. It was good to talk to Mitch, good to hear his voice. When Nick had died, she might have fallen apart completely if it hadn’t been for Mitch. He’d been the shoulder she’d cried on. And when she’d started to heal, he’d been the one she’d laughed with as he teased her with his magic tricks.

But those days were gone now. Nick had died, her life had moved on and she’d grown up a lot in the past year, she’d gained strength. Enough to stare down the darkest man she’d ever met.

Enough to fall in love.

She rested her chin on her knees, and wondered how long it would be before Richard calmed down enough to talk.

She shivered, and for no good reason at all, felt afraid.

* * *

She must have fallen asleep, but the next thing she knew there was a tentative knock at her door. Opening her eyes groggily, she called for the person to come in. Obediently the door opened, and Andy peered in at her with solemn eyes behind his thick lenses.

“Are you feeling better, yet?” he asked quietly.

She nodded, trying to sit up on the bed and wincing as she discovered new aches and pains. Andrew’s sharp eyes missed nothing.

“Why are you wincing? Do you want some aspirin?” he demanded.

She held up a hand in a silent plea for mercy, offering him a faint smile. “Honest, sweetheart, I’m fine, but thanks for asking. I just had a bit of a riding accident when I was trying to cure my headache, that’s all.”

Andy’s eyes narrowed shrewdly. “Was it anything like the hunting accident?” he demanded suspiciously. He walked into the room, examining her with careful eyes, as if he needed proof of her well-being.

Once again, she was amazed by his perceptiveness, and a little lost at how to put him back at ease. “I fell off Honeysuckle,” she said briskly. “There’s nothing dangerous about that except my own stupidity. Now, what did you do all day?”

He simply looked at her. “I read,” he said finally. Then abruptly, he frowned petulantly. “I don’t like Mrs. Pram. Don’t leave me with her anymore. You have to stay with me forever. I demand it!”

She managed to raise an eyebrow at his tone of voice. “You demand it, huh?”

He nodded vigorously, and she didn’t know whether to scold him or commiserate with his sudden insecurity. She settled for rumpling his hair. “I like being with you, too, Andy,” she said simply. “Want to read me a story for a change? You can cheer me up.”

“What’s this?” came Richard’s voice from the doorway. “I thought you were resting.”

Andy immediately stood straighter, his tiny face rigid. “I was helping Liz feel better,” he chirped out quickly, looking at his father with big eyes. “She said I could come in.”

Richard looked at the boy, recognizing the tension in the young face and immediately hating himself for having caused it. Why couldn’t he have treated the child better in the beginning? He was just a six-year-old boy, too smart for his own good, lost in a world where he was neither child nor adult, but simply genius.

Unconsciously, Richard’s face relaxed, and Andrew allowed himself a little breath. Richard walked forward and placed a casual hand on Andrew’s shoulder. Immediately, the boy stiffened, but Richard just remained standing there as if it was the most natural thing in the world. It would take time, he reminded himself. Time for both of them to adjust.

“How are you feeling?” he asked Liz, his voice carefully neutral.

“Like I’ve fallen off a horse,” Liz replied. Briefly, her eyes searched his face, but once again, his face was expressionless. At least he appeared less angry than when he’d left.

“I thought the three of us might go out to dinner tonight,” he announced. Both Andrew and Liz looked at him in amazement, but he plunged on, as if it were nothing out of the ordinary. “There’s a new restaurant downtown I’ve heard is excellent. I thought we might give it a try. Does six o’clock sound good?”

Blankly, Liz and Andrew nodded, though in fact, six o’clock was early compared to the usual time they had dinner.

“Perhaps we can catch a movie afterward,” Richard continued, filling in the missing pieces. “Andrew, why don’t you and Liz pick something you’d like to see?”

This time, Andrew couldn’t keep the shock off his young face. His blue eyes looked like saucers, and his mouth hung open as he stared from his father to Liz to his father again. Abruptly, he snapped his mouth shut and nodded vigorously. Liz didn’t say anything at all.

“I think it will be a late night,” Richard thought out loud in the silence. “Perhaps you should take a nap, Andrew.” Then he frowned, as if something new had just occurred to him. “Actually, it might be better if you spent time with Liz. Helped her feel better, you know. Why don’t you go down to the library together. Didn’t I hear you were going to read her a story? Yes, you can do it there.”

That seemed to satisfy him, for he nodded to himself. Liz, however, was narrowing her eyes shrewdly. He was up to something, all right. And whatever it was, he wanted her and Andrew out of the way. Tonight. Once more, a frisson of tension raced along her spine. But for Andrew’s sake, she did her best to appear calm. She would wait until Andrew left, then she would grill Richard.

Richard, however, seemed hell-bent on not giving her the chance. He suddenly pivoted, and his message delivered, marched expediently to the doorway. She was still trying to think of a good excuse to call him back, when Andrew scampered after him. Frowning, she rose to her feet only to have Andrew close the door sharply behind him. Completely taken aback, she sat down hard, and began thinking she might want that aspirin, after all.

* * *

“Sir?” Andrew called from the hallway, having to run to catch up with his father’s longer steps. Richard turned, keeping his face composed as he looked down at Andrew’s serious face.

“Yes?” he asked. Did he sound too intimidating, too harsh? Did he sound like a parent at all? He didn’t know how to tell.

Andrew hesitated, then drew himself up smartly. “I would like to speak to you,” Andy declared loudly. “On a subject very important to both of us.”

Richard arched a surprised eyebrow. Leaning back slightly, he crossed his arms in front of him and adopted the child’s grave tone. “I see. And what would this be?”

“Liz,” Andrew stated immediately. “We must do something to protect Liz.”

For a moment, Richard was almost too shocked to speak. But he then collected himself, looking at the little blue-suited boy in front of him with new respect.

“What do you mean?” he probed carefully.

Andrew gave his father a slightly patronizing stare. “These accidents. They can’t really be accidents. Even
I
know that.”

Richard pulled himself together quickly, thinking he should dismiss the boy’s allegation, then realized that tactic would never have worked on him when he was six. Unconsciously, he kneeled, becoming eye level with the child. “I see. You’ve been giving this some thought?”

Andy nodded vigorously, and Richard found himself almost smiling.

“The morning of the picnic,” Andrew reported stiffly, “Jillian and Blaine went on a walk. I thought you should know that.”

In spite of himself, Richard looked at Andy with genuine surprise.

“But Blaine returned alone,” Andrew rushed on, his face still somber as he relayed his findings. “He said he was thirsty, and that he never liked to walk as much as Jillian did, anyway. And he went to find Parris and Greg, but they weren’t in. Mrs. Pram said they’d gone out to the stables. Mrs. Pram keeps her eye on everyone.”

Andrew nodded smartly, having concluded his report, and Richard felt his chest tighten. At this moment, he could understand why Liz and Blaine thought Andrew was so much like him. That nod, that rigid stance. It was Richard as a six-year-old. And suddenly, he realized fully that Andrew’s parentage truly didn’t matter anymore. Even if Blaine was the child’s father, Andrew would still be his nephew. Perhaps that was close enough to son, and if Richard ever did have a son, he would like him to be just like this solemn boy here.

That Andy had been this diligent touched him beyond belief. That the boy had asked so many questions, however, filled him with fear. Very carefully, he placed his hand on Andrew’s shoulder, and adopted the child’s serious tone.

“You did the right thing,” he assured him, “in telling me these things. I’m very glad you did. But I don’t want you to ask any more questions, Andrew, okay? I have something else I need you to do.” Andrew leaned over expectantly, his blue eyes intent. “I want you to keep an eye on Liz. Make sure she’s okay.”

Andrew’s eyes widened, and he nodded vigorously at this new and important charge. Richard found himself smiling, and the feeling in his chest intensified a hundredfold.

Giving in to instinct for the first time, he reached over, and hugged this precious little boy. There was a moment of hesitation, then suddenly, Andrew threw his arms around his father’s neck. And it was then that Richard could smell all the little kid smells from five years ago: the scent of children’s shampoo, the freshness of youth, the tinge of baby powder. And the feeling was the same, the precious burden of a child’s trust weighing upon his shoulders.