Dare to Love Again (The Heart of San Francisco Book #2): A Novel (31 page)

“Forgive me for asking this, Mrs. McClare,” the second officer said with a sobriety that quickened Logan’s pulse, “and please know Officer Brendan and I think it highly unlikely, but we need to ask if there might be any reason to believe your daughter could have been abducted. A threat against you or Supervisor McClare, perchance, or suspicion over anyone who may have visited your home recently—a repairman or neighbor or someone who had access to the house?”

Caitlyn’s body seized at the mention of abduction, and Logan tightened his grip, speaking before Cait had the chance. “None that I’m aware of, officers, either for Mrs. McClare or myself, and I feel certain Caitlyn would have advised me of anything suspicious.”

He felt Cait nod, and the officer exchanged glances with his partner. “Well, then, sir, ma’am, if you’ll excuse us, we’ll question a few neighbors and then check back before we file our report and organize a search.”

“Certainly,” Logan said, voice crisp. “Thank you, Officers, for your time and your help.”

“Not at all, sir.” Officer Brendan nodded before he and his partner departed.

At the click of the door, Logan shielded Cait in his arms, resting his head against hers. His heart thudded at the prospect
anyone might have actually kidnapped Maddie. Heaven knows as a key member of the Board of Supervisors, he’d made more than his fair share of enemies, but he refused to believe foul play was involved. “We need to search the house ourselves,” he whispered, and he felt her nod.

The next half hour was the most excruciating of Logan’s life other than the deaths of his parents and brother and the day Cait broke their engagement a lifetime ago. Room by room they searched—together and apart—the frantic sound of Cait’s voice calling Maddie’s name echoing through the house like it echoed in his brain. When their search was done, he held her in the parlour while she wept, every fragile heave shredding his heart.

“Why don’t you drink some tea?” he whispered, stroking her hair like he’d longed to do for so many years. But not this way—not with their hearts raw with pain over the loss of a child so dear. He pulled away to cradle her tear-swollen face, grazing her jaw with his thumbs while he uttered the only words that came to mind. “We will find her, Cait,” he said quietly. “I know this because we prayed. And although God isn’t inclined to answer my prayers, you’re a woman of deep faith, so I have no doubt He will answer yours.”

She blinked, his handkerchief limp in her hands as she stared, fresh moisture welling all over again. With a trembling hand, she gently palmed the scruff of his jaw, a thread of awe in her tone. “Oh, Logan,” she whispered, a single tear spilling into the curve of her mouth. “I never knew—you have faith in God after all, don’t you? Just not for yourself.”

His breath hitched, the impact of her statement cold-cocking his heart. Although he’d never admit it to her, she’d been right in Napa to confront him about his lack of faith, implying it hadn’t been up to snuff. The truth was he didn’t know if it even existed
anymore because he’d had a bone to pick with God for too many years now, and her name was Caitlyn McClare. The one woman he wanted more than any other and the one woman God wouldn’t let him have. Suddenly the realization that there was a flame of faith inside of him, no matter how frail or small, brought a measure of peace he never believed possible. A muscle convulsed in his throat over the very idea that
yes
, he actually
did
believe God would answer their prayers about Maddie, and the fact that this tiny seed of faith was based on God’s favor to Caitlyn rather than to him mattered not a whit. All that really mattered was that he, Logan McClare, possessed a belief in God of which he hadn’t been fully aware. And somehow in the deep recesses of his soul he knew—as sure as he knew he loved Caitlyn McClare—that where there was faith, there was the hope of answered prayer.

In the midst of that very thought, his heart stopped cold, seizing his lungs at the very same time. With a harsh heave of his chest, he shot to his feet. “Sweet God in heaven, please . . .”

“Logan, what’s wrong?”

But he hardly heard her for the pounding of his pulse as he sprinted into the foyer, almost colliding with Hadley and Rosie as they delivered sandwiches and tea. Bolting up the stairs, he loped down the hall to Caitlyn’s room, heart ramming into his rib cage as he entered the same room she’d shared with Liam . . .
and
the same room his parents had shared before them. Chest pumping, he rushed to the closet that took up half of her wall and flung the louvered doors wide, jerking Caitlyn’s clothes away from the far side. The scent of Pear’s soap and lavender rushed his senses, wrenching his heart and stirring his hope. “God, I swear,” he whispered, throat dry as dust and sweat beading his brow, “if You answer this prayer, I will be Yours forever . . .”

“Maddie?” He dropped to his knees and crawled to the far
side of the closet, the same hiding place in which he used to hide from Liam in their games of hide and seek when they were boys.
And
the same hiding place in which he’d hidden with Maddie two winters past in a family game of hide and seek. “Maddie!” he shouted again and flailed his hand into the dark nook he’d discovered the summer he was eight, the one hidden by a jut in the wall. Nothing more than an odd little gap created by the wooden clothes chute in the hall, and one nobody knew about but him.
And
a precious little girl named Maddie.

With a wide sweep of his hand, his fingers skimmed something soft and warm and—he grinned outright—
snoring!
Laughter deep and powerful rolled through him as he lay prostrate in the dark closet, heart full and hand caressing the most precious gift he’d ever received. Even as his laughter rang out, tears stung at what God had done for him tonight . . . and Cait.

Cait.

“Logan, where are you?” Her cry sounded muffled, but panicked all the same.

“Here!” With a glide of his arm, he scooped Maddie up and slowly backed out.

“Oh, Maddie!” Tears streamed Caitlyn’s face as she whisked her daughter from his arms and rushed to sit on her bed, cuddling and sobbing as if she would never let go.

“Sweet heavens,” Rosie cried, face mottled from weeping. Dabbing her eyes with a sodden handkerchief, she joined Cait on the bed, petting a drowsy, little girl who was just beginning to wake up.

Not one bit ashamed of the tears in his eyes, Logan stood there soggy-eyed, his grin a mirror reflection of Hadley’s as Maddie’s tiny mouth expanded in a yawn.

Hovering behind, Hadley handed a clean handkerchief to
Caitlyn while laughter and sniffles filled the room with beautiful music.

“Maddie . . .” Caitlyn gently brushed the tousled curls from her daughter’s eyes. “Why on earth did you hide in the closet, darling? You worried Mommy so much.”

“And your Auntie Rosie,” Rosie said in a rusty rasp that sounded as if she’d been crying for hours. “Why would you do that, pumpkin?”

Maddie blinked, another sleepy yawn escaping before she snuggled further into Caitlyn’s embrace. “I missed Mommy and couldn’t sleep, Rosie, so I took more medicine.”

“Medicine?” Caitlyn said with a gasp. She held Maddie at bay, eyes searching her daughter’s. “What medicine?”

“The medicine Rosie gives me when I’m sick, remember?”

“Good grief, the
laudanum
? But you hate that! We have to wrestle you to take it.”

A groan rattled in Rosie’s chest. “Oh, blessed fog on the bog,” she muttered, kneeling before Maddie. “From the cup of special honey and cinnamon tea I left atop your bureau?”

Maddie nodded, eyes somber with an innocence that plucked at Logan’s heart. “It tasted so good, Rosie, I wanted more,” she whispered.

Rosie stroked Maddie’s hair. “Aw, darlin’, how much of the cup did you take?”

“All of it,” the little girl whispered, her eyes lanquid pools of innocence.

“Oh, Maddie, no!” Caitlyn’s eyes sealed closed as she squeezed her daughter tightly, an expression of horror pinching her face. “Never,
ever
take medicine on your own again, young lady, do you hear? When I think what could have happened—”

“But it didn’t, Cait.” Logan kneaded her shoulder with a gentle
touch. He squatted in front of Maddie, chucking a finger to her chin. “God heard our prayers, didn’t He, munchkin?”

Her heavy eyelids fluttered while her lips tipped into a sleepy smile. “Did you pray for me, Uncle Logan?” she asked with a sweet tilt of her head.

“You bet, squirt.” He deposited a kiss to her nose, then lifted his gaze to meet Cait’s. “Me and your mama, but I think it was my prayers that carried the most weight.” He gave Cait a wink.

Cait’s lips trembled into a smile while tears glazed her eyes. “Thank you,” she mouthed.

Rising, Logan gently massaged her shoulder once again, heart swooping at the love he saw in her eyes. “Always,” he whispered.

She exhaled a shuddery breath as she turned Maddie to face her. “Darling, promise me you will never,
ever
take medicine on your own again.”

Maddie’s eyes misted as she peered up, the quiver of her lip tugging at Logan’s heart. “I promise, Mama, but I just thought if I got better that maybe . . .” A little lump dipped in her tiny throat. “Hadley could take me to Alli’s party.”

“And so he will,” Caitlyn said, crushing her in another tearful hug. “Everyone is coming here for cake and presents soon, so we best get your robe and slippers on, all right?”

“I’ll take the little dickens, Miss Cait.” Rosie hefted Maddie from Caitlyn’s arms, placing a noisy kiss to her cheek. “We’ll freshen her up with a bath so she’s all ready.”

“Thank you, Rosie.” Caitlyn rose, swatting at a fluff of dust in Maddie’s auburn curls. “That closet has left you musty, little girl, so scoot.” She tucked a finger to Maddie’s chin, voice gentle despite the stern look in her eyes. “No more medicine on your own—ever—all right?”

“Yes, Mama.”

“Come, darlin’, best hurry before we miss the party.” Rosie shifted Maddie with a grunt.

“If you please, Mrs. O’Brien, I’d be honored to carry the little miss.” Hadley tugged Maddie from Rosie’s arms, not even waiting for the housekeeper’s consent.

Logan paused, expecting Rosie to cut the butler down to size. Instead, his jaw dropped a full inch—along with Cait’s—when Rosie peered up at the stately butler with a gentle expression usually reserved for Cait and her girls. “Thank you, Hadley, for your calm and your kindness tonight.” The woman’s chin actually quivered while a sheen of tears softened eyes prone to a glare where the butler was concerned. “I . . . I haven’t had a fright like that since my Johnny was lost at sea so many years ago,” she whispered, rooting Logan to the spot when a single tear trailed the old woman’s cheek. “And I . . . ,” she wiped the tear away with a hard swipe of her hand, back suddenly rigid in what looked to be a fierce show of composure, “. . . appreciate your strength, comfort, and cool head when I appeared to lose mine tonight.”

Maddie secure in his arms, the butler nodded with the faintest of smiles. “Indeed, it was my pleasure, Mrs. O’Brien,” he said in his usual crisp manner, turning toward the door.

“Mr. Hadley.” Rosie’s voice halted him halfway, his handsome face placid as he awaited her next command. Squaring her shoulders, she jutted her chin, tone carrying more respect than Logan had ever heard with the butler before. “It may have been years in the coming, Mr. Hadley,” she said with a gruff clear of her throat, “but I believe you’ve earned the right to call me Rosie.”

Not a muscle flickered in the serene and regal bearing of a man Logan had seldom seen ruffled by emotions of any kind, but the slow blink of his brown eyes softened enough for Logan to notice. “Very good, miss,” he said with the barest trace of humor lacing
his tone. “And you, my dear woman, may call me . . . Hadley.” His eyes held a twinkle. “In any volume you prefer.”

A slow grin inched across Rosie’s face as she followed him to the door. “Hadley will notify the officers, and then we’ll have this darlin’ down lickety-split, Miss Cait,” she called over her shoulder. “Hadley?”

Rosie waved a hand toward the door with a broad smile, indicating for Hadley to go first.

Caitlyn turned to Logan, mouth ajar as she pressed a trembling hand to her lips. “Sweet heavens above, what just happened?”

Logan chuckled and extended a hand to help Caitlyn up. “I’d say God used a little girl to heal the wounds of an age-old feud.”

“I don’t believe it,” she whispered, shaking her head as she took Logan’s hand to rise.

Hooking her arm over his, he arched a brow. “You? The woman who lights enough candles to eradicate the parish electric bill—doubts God can heal a fractured relationship?”

The green eyes misted as she peered up. “No, I believe that,” she said quietly, voice trailing into a whisper that caused his heart to thud in his chest, “because you’ve proven that tonight.” Her lips curved into the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen, and he ached to take her in his arms, but he would not make that mistake twice. The next time he kissed Caitlyn McClare, it would be
her
idea, not his, because he would
not
lose her again. But she was warming to him, he could feel it, and he could see it in her eyes, aglow with the hint of starry-eyed affection he recognized from years ago when she’d worn his ring on her finger. His body hummed as she absently caressed the sleeve of his arm, head cocked in almost a flirty tease. “What I don’t believe, Mr. McClare, is that there could finally be peace in this house after twenty-six years.”

Striving for nonchalance, he placed a casual hand over hers to
escort her to the door. “Don’t count on it,” he said with a crooked smile, “unless you plan to bar me from your home.”

His pulse stalled when she stopped, smile fading to soft as she studied him intently. “Not likely when you’ve captured the hearts of my children so completely.” As if in slow motion, she carefully cupped a tender hand to his jaw and rose on the balls of her feet, grazing his cheek with a kiss that stilled the very blood in his veins. “And mine,” she whispered, mouth lingering so close to his that his throat went dry.