Nightwatch (10 page)

“Actually, I do,” Jill said, glancing at the group of searchers who had paused to wait while she dried her tears and regained her composure. “I suppose we'd better get a move on.”

“Only if you're ready.”

“Ha! After what just happened I imagine the smartest thing I can do is just keep putting one foot after the other and not let myself mull things over too much.”

Mitch thought she might be trying to smile so he shined his light closer to her face. To his relief, she did look a little better—as long as he ignored the puffy eyes and reddened nose.

“Don't do that. I'm a mess.” She blocked his view with her outstretched hands.

“You have looked better a time or two.”

“More often than that, I hope.” She gave him a shy, sidelong look. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For just being you. For making me feel as if there really is hope.”

“There's always hope,” he said, sobering. He knew Jill had been referring to the missing child but he kept remembering how she had felt in his arms, how she had returned his offer of affection by slipping her arms around his waist, apparently without a qualm. Once she was back home and feeling more like herself, he figured she'd probably rue that natural response.

He knew he should be kicking himself for embracing her at all, not to mention doing it in front of all these other men. But he couldn't convince himself to be penitent. He had wanted to take Jill in his arms and hold her for a very long time. As far as he was concerned, he'd acted appropriately under the present circumstances.

What if there never was another perfect chance? Then maybe he'd make one, Mitch told himself. Something strange and wonderful had touched him when he'd been embracing Jill, and he was looking forward to finding out if he was simply overwrought or if there was more to it.

In the meantime, he vowed to remain her protector and do all he could to solve her problems, just as he had for the past several years. Then, when everything had settled down, perhaps he'd bring up the subject of their agreed-upon friendship. It was possible that he wasn't the only one who had sensed that they could become more than buddies if they let themselves.

He gritted his teeth and gripped the flashlight tighter. That degree of honesty would have to wait. He
was no fool. He knew Jill's mental and emotional health hinged on the safe recovery of Megan Pearson. If that little girl wasn't found, alive and well, the heartbreak might destroy Jill's happiness forever—and his, too.

T
he Kirkpatrick farmyard was awash by the time Jill and the others arrived. The rainfall had lessened but water was still dripping off the eaves of the house.

Jill reached the covered porch and quickly pushed back the stifling plastic hood.

Following her, Salt and Pepper shook from head to tail, flinging water and looking mighty pleased to have almost all their charges corralled in one place.

Jill stepped to the porch railing and directed an announcement to the search party, “Please. Come in for coffee and whatever else we can rustle up. You all must be starved.”

“Thanks, but not tonight,” Harlan told her. “I wanna get plenty of rest and make sure everything is ready to go first thing tomorrow.” He touched the brim of his cap beneath the bright yellow hood of his slicker. “We'll take a rain check. C'mon, boys.”

The irony of his apt cliché made Jill smile in spite of herself. What was wrong with her? She should be down on her knees, face to the ground in prayer, loudly lamenting the loss of Megan while begging God's forgiveness. Yet she was still able to take small pleasure in
the silliest things. In a way, she'd felt numb ever since she'd wept so fiercely back in the woods. Maybe there was no intense emotion left in her after all that.

Mitch joined her in two long strides, his boots thudding hollowly on the wooden decking as he stomped off mud and water. He had long ago begun to carry Tim and the boy was almost asleep in his arms. “Can't think of a better night for a
rain check,
” he teased, smiling.

Deputy Adelaide came out the front door and closed it quietly behind her. “Glad you're back. I put Paul to bed about an hour ago. Then I searched the house again, top to bottom, just in case.” She glanced at Tim. “Good thing you found that one when you did. This weather is clear nasty.”

“Thank you for everything.” Jill grasped her hand. “I don't know what I'd have done if Paul had been out there with us. It was awful.”

She saw the dark-haired woman arching an eyebrow and eyeing Mitch.

“Somebody tried to grab Jill and she barely escaped,” he said flatly.

Jill was delighted to hear the report of her ordeal phrased so positively. When she'd first told him about her set-to in the woods he had acted as though he didn't quite believe her. Perhaps Boyd's finding the lost cap had helped convince everyone, Mitch included.

“Praise the Lord you got away,” Adelaide said. She checked her wristwatch. “Well, if y'all don't need me anymore, I'm going to report to the boss and see if he'll let me head on home. It's long past quitting time.”

“Of course. And thanks again,” Jill called. The deputy was already running for her patrol car, her jacket held over her head in lieu of an umbrella.

“We need to get inside and find Tim some dry clothes,” Mitch told her. “We never did get any shopping done.”

“I know. It's a good thing he's drowsy because I don't have any pj's for boys in his size. I didn't think to do the laundry so his are still dirty and smoky.”

“Nothing much went as planned today.” Mitch ushered her inside, closed the door behind them and wiped his feet again while Mugsy danced circles around the room. “Just make do with whatever you can find. Even just a big T-shirt will do in a pinch. I'll go give Tim a hot bath to warm him up, then put him to bed.”

“Thanks.”

“And, Jill,” he added. “As soon as you dig up some dry clothes for Tim, take care of yourself, will you? You look terrible.”

“Thanks. You're not so hot yourself.”

He feigned hurt feelings so well, so dramatically, she had to smile again when he said, “Sure. Pick on me when I'm too tired to think of a clever comeback.”

Jill sobered and shook her head. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Keep your emotions on an even keel when you're faced with the tragedies you deal with all the time as a firefighter?”

“We do the best we can in any given situation,” Mitch replied. “That's all anybody can expect.” He hesitated and gave her a look that was so empathetic it made her heart flutter.

When he added, “That's all any of us expect of you either, Jill,” she was so grateful she wanted to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him.

If he hadn't been carrying the sleepy boy, she told herself she might actually have done it, too.

 

Mitch found pajamas for Tim, in a neatly folded stack of clothing, waiting just outside the bathroom door. He dressed the weary child, carried Tim to the now-secured bedroom where his brother already slept, tucked him in, then went looking for Jill.

He found her in the kitchen. She was clad in gray sweats similar to a set she'd left for him. Hers were decorated with embroidered butterflies while his bore the logo of a college football team. They both wore socks without shoes.

“Hi,” Mitch said.

“Hi.” She returned his smile, apparently without too much effort. “I see Eric's old clothes fit you. I thought they would. Did you get Tim settled okay?”

“Yeah.” Mitch chose to concentrate on her question rather than think about whose outfit he was wearing. “I'd love to be there when he wakes up and realizes he's got on pink flannel pajamas with pictures of cute kittens all over them. He was so tired tonight he didn't bat an eye when I helped him put them on.”

“Any little girl his size would be thrilled.” Jill's smile widened. “We probably won't have trouble getting him to go shopping with us after that.”

“No kidding. I hated to dress him that way but he had to have something warm to wear. I hung his wet clothes up in the bathroom to dry.” Mitch was rubbing his own chilly arms through the fabric of the sweatshirt. “What are you cooking?”

“Omelets. We never had any dinner.”

“Your Yankee roots are showing, lady. Around here we call it supper when we eat this late.”

“Sorry. I wouldn't want anyone to disown you for associating with me.”

“I'll take my chances. I'm surprised you're even on your feet, let alone fixing a meal.” He got two mugs out of the cupboard. “Coffee?”

She nodded. “I made decaf. Hope you don't mind.”

“Nope. I'm easy to please.”

Mitch carried the steaming mugs to the white-painted kitchen table. When he asked, “Anything I can do to help?” and saw her tremble slightly he returned to stand beside her. “You okay?”

“No.” Jill shook her head slowly. “One minute I want to scream and cry and the next minute I almost feel glad. It's like being stuck in a revolving door of emotion and not knowing how or when to step through.”

“I understand.” The urge to put his arms around her, to comfort her again, was almost more than Mitch could resist.

“You do, don't you?” She turned and lifted her eyes to gaze into his.

He was speechless. Was she asking for another embrace or was his imagination playing cruel tricks on him simply because it was what
he
wanted? He had no idea. Nor was he sure it might be wiser to ask rather than simply act on the impression he was getting. What if it was all wrong? What if he was misreading her actions and ruined their relationship by getting out of line? The thought of Jill refusing to allow him to continue to be near her was literally painful.

She reached to cup his cheek. Unshed tears filled her eyes, making them glisten.

Mitch heard his own sharp intake of breath before he realized he'd reacted so tellingly. Her gentle touch warmed him so thoroughly he lost the chill he'd been unable to shake since being caught in the rain.

He began to lift his hands slowly with the intent of pulling her closer. A tear slipped over her lower lashes and slid down her cheek so he paused to wipe it away with his thumb. In moments, he was thankful for the delay.

“I want you to know you're the best, truest friend I've ever had,” Jill whispered. “I don't know what I'd do without you, Mitch.”

Her hand lingered, caressing his cheek, and he let himself lean into her touch ever so slightly. Where he had envisioned romantic love, she had seen deep, faithful camaraderie. And she was right, as far as she'd gone. He did care about her that way. It was a truth they had often shared. It was also only the beginning for Mitch.

He forced a smile. “Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me, lady.”

That brought a light laugh. Jill brushed away more tears and turned her attention back to her cooking.

The precious moment of intimacy, such as it was, had ended. The only thing Mitch was glad about was that he'd held himself in check long enough to hear what she'd had to say.

What if he had been dumb enough to try to hug and kiss her? That could have been catastrophic. They were so used to each other, so good at seeing into each other's hearts, there was no way he'd have been able to alibi his way out of a mistake like that.

Mitch turned away. His jaw clenched. He closed his
eyes and sighed quietly. No matter how long he lived he knew he'd never forget standing in the rain and holding Jill while she'd cried her eyes out. That might not be the kind of embrace he'd have preferred but since it was probably going to be the only one he'd ever experience with her, he figured it was well worth remembering.

Going over it in his mind, he realized he had also placed a kiss of comfort on her damp hair when the thin, plastic hood had slipped back far enough. Since she hadn't reacted at the time, he assumed she hadn't even noticed, which was just as well. But he had noticed. Oh, yeah. He had noticed plenty.

Right now, standing in her warm, welcoming kitchen and basking in the joy her presence always brought, Mitch had only one regret. He wished he'd kissed her more than just once when he'd had the chance.

Even if she never did realize what had happened, he would know. He would know.

 

They were just finishing their impromptu meal when Jill's house phone rang. She answered with a breathless, “Hello,” and carried the portable unit back to the kitchen table with her.

“You don't have to sound so disappointed,” the caller said.

“I'm sorry. I was hoping this was good news about Megan.” Jill covered the receiver with her palm and whispered to Mitch, “It's the CASA volunteer, Samantha Rochard.”

“You probably know as much about the missing child as I do,” Samantha said. “The reason I'm calling is to prepare you. We have another hearing scheduled for
the first of next week. Natalie Stevens is suing for immediate custody.”

Heavyhearted, Jill nodded. “I suppose that's to be expected, although I had hoped the boys could stay with me in spite of everything that's happened.”

“You still may get your wish,” the advocate told her. “There's no guarantee that either of the relatives is on the up-and-up. Time will tell. In the meantime, the court may decide to let the children remain in your care. I'll certainly be recommending it.”

Jill blinked back tears. “Thank you for your confidence. I just hope they find little Megan soon.”

“Yeah. Me, too. I've been following the investigation through the sheriff's office. They're stumped. They said, at this point, even a ransom note would be helpful.”

“Do you think there'll be one?”

“No telling. I know the sheriff has high hopes his teams will be able to pick up her trail in the woods tomorrow, though.”

“You know about the dogs, then?”
And Timmy running away?
she added silently.

“I know enough to see that the children wouldn't have been one bit safer anywhere else. That's another fact I'm going to put in my written report to the judge.”

“Thank you so much. I really do appreciate it.”

“Hey, don't thank me yet. By the way, I'll need to know if you're planning to take new precautions to secure your home.”

“Such as?”

“An alarm system?”

Jill covered the phone again and looked to Mitch. “She wants to know if we're installing an alarm.”

“Tell her
yes,
” he whispered. “I'm good with electronics. I'll either pick up the necessary components when we're in town tomorrow or order a system on the internet and have it delivered. That way we'll eliminate any wait for installation.”

It occurred to Jill to insist that she could handle everything alone but it felt so good to have his support she kept that notion to herself. There was no harm letting Mitch help. After all, he was personally involved with the Pearson family and would naturally want to do what he could.

Besides, she admitted ruefully, she desperately wanted him to hang around. Especially while they were waiting to hear what had become of poor Megan.

The thought of that sweet, innocent little girl being dragged from her bed and taken who knows where made Jill's stomach lurch. Bile rose in her throat. She wished she hadn't eaten recently because the omelet was threatening to come back up.

“We'll—I'll get started on the alarm right away,” Jill managed to say. “If you call here and don't get me, use my cell number. I'm taking the boys shopping for clothes and shoes tomorrow. They had nothing left after the fire.”

Bidding the CASA volunteer goodbye and ending the call, Jill looked across the table at Mitch. Noting the added concern and empathy coloring his expression she forced a small smile.

“You okay?” he asked tenderly.

“I'll be a lot better once we locate Megan. For a moment there I think I stepped through my imaginary revolving door and got out on the wrong side.”

“There's no sin in grieving,” Mitch told her.

“But if I had a stronger faith…”

“I disagree. You did the best you could. God knows that. All any of us can do is trust the Lord to bring us through our trials in His timing and by His will.”

“Funny you should put it that way,” Jill said, blinking to quell unshed tears.