One Special Christmas & Home for the Holidays (34 page)

“Laura speaks very warmly of her father.”

“Oh, they had a great relationship, those two. Course, as you may have noticed, we're a real close family. It was hard on all of us when Laura moved to St. Louis. We figured they'd come to visit pretty often, but it didn't work out that way.”

Laura's mother was being so open that Nick had the courage to do a little probing. “Why not, Mrs. Anderson? I can see Laura loves being here with all of you.”

“I don't really know, Nick,” she said honestly. “Laura never did talk much about her life in St. Louis or about Joe, at least not after the first couple of years.” She paused a moment, then continued more slowly. “You know, Nick, you're the first man Laura's ever brought home, other than Joe. That's why you've gotten so many curious looks this weekend. I hope we didn't make you uncomfortable.”

“Not at all,” he said, debating for a moment whether to probe further, quickly deciding he had nothing to lose. “Joe must have been quite a guy, if Laura married him,” he said, forcing a casual tone into his voice.

Laura's mother didn't respond immediately. “He was nice enough,” she said slowly, as if choosing her words carefully. “But Walter and I didn't think he was right for Laura,” she admitted. “He was one of those people who always seems to have their head in the clouds, building castles in the air and never putting the foundation under them. Maybe even getting angry when things don't work out, you know what I mean? Laura's just the opposite. She plans for things and persists until she succeeds.” She paused for a moment. “Besides, they were so young when they got married. Too young, we thought. But there was no convincing them, so in the end we gave in. Like I said, Laura never did talk much about her life with Joe. Even when they separated, all she said was that they were having a few problems. She didn't offer any more of an explanation, and we didn't pry. Laura's always been a real private person. But she surely had a good reason. Laura isn't one to walk away from obligations or commitments, and she's a great believer in the sanctity of marriage. So for her to leave Joe—well, I can't even imagine what must have happened.”

Nick stared at Laura's mother, grateful for the darkness that hid the dumbfounded look on his face. Laura had left her husband? Why hadn't she told him? And what had broken up her marriage? She'd said earlier this weekend that she'd been in love with Joe, loved him enough to make leaving her hometown and the family she cherished bearable. Knowing she was a widow, he'd more or less begun to attribute her reluctance to get involved with him to fear of once again losing a man she loved. But now that explanation didn't seem as plausible. More likely she was afraid of making another
mistake, and for that he couldn't blame her. But her fear and caution went beyond the normal bounds.

Mrs. Anderson held her watch toward the dim light. “My, it's getting late! Time I went to bed.” She stood and smiled at Nick. “Hope you didn't mind me bending your ear.”

“Not at all,” he replied, struggling for a casual tone.

“Well, I do worry about Laura. And it's nice to have someone who cares about her to share that with. Though I expect everything we talked about tonight is old news to you. You probably know much more about it than we do,” she said good-naturedly.

Nick watched the screen door close behind her.
No,
he thought,
I know far less. Even less than I thought. But I'm learning.

L
aura lay in bed sleepless for a long time Tuesday night, thinking about the past four days. Nick had been unusually quiet on the ride back from Jersey, and it was clear she need not have worried about being alone with him in the car. He was probably regretting that he'd ever made the offer to take her home, she thought miserably, punching her pillow. And if she was honest about it, she couldn't blame him. From his standpoint, the weekend had probably been a disaster. Forced to take part in a family gathering where the only person he knew avoided him like the plague was not conducive to a pleasant experience, she had to admit. He had obviously come to the same conclusion, silently carrying her bag upstairs when they'd arrived at her apartment and leaving her at the door, making his escape as quickly as possible.

Well, she'd wanted to discourage him, she told herself. The success of her plan should make her happy. So then why was she so miserable? And why did the loneliness she'd long ago learned to deal with now suddenly leave her feeling so empty and restless?

Laura tossed back the covers, the hot night air feeling much more oppressive here than it had in Jersey. She briefly considered turning on the air conditioner, but the older window unit was inefficient and one night's indulgence would probably boost her electric bill twenty dollars, she thought glumly. That was more than she was willing to spend. The heat would dissipate eventually, she told herself, and sleep would come.

Sleep did come, but not until nearly three, and when the alarm went off at five-thirty Laura moaned. So much for coming back from the weekend refreshed and rested, she thought dryly as she swung her legs to the floor and yawned.

By the time she was dressed, Ken, her foreman, had arrived per arrangement to take her to the office. He had also agreed to drop her at the garage tonight so she could pick up her car.

“Morning, Ken,” she said sleepily, taking a last gulp of coffee from the mug cradled in her hands.

“Hi, Laura.” He tilted his head and regarded her quizzically. “You look tired.”

“Yeah, well, that's what happens when you only have two and a half hours' sleep,” she said wryly.

“Did you get back late?”

“No. Just couldn't sleep.” She grabbed her portfolio case and headed for the door. “Let's stop by the job sites first. How did things go yesterday?”

Laura now had two crews working, and Ken filled her in as they drove, dropping her at the office by nine-thirty.

“I'll be back about four to give you a progress report, if that's okay,” he said.

“Fine,” she assured him. “I have plenty of paperwork
to keep me busy. It sure will seem odd to spend a whole day in the office, though,” she said.

He grinned. “Yeah, the crews won't know what to think.”

“Well, I'll be back on the sites tomorrow,” she said with a smile. “So don't let anybody slip up.”

“Don't worry. I'll keep an eye on everything.”

Laura watched Ken drive away, grateful again that she'd found someone of his caliber to fill the all-important foreman role. She'd done the job herself until the volume of work became too great, but she had to admit it was a relief to let someone else share part of the burden. Ken had only been with her for about six weeks, but he was a quick study and had proven to be reliable and trustworthy. She found herself delegating more and more to him as paperwork and new design projects demanded an increasing amount of her time. The Arts Center job had been the catalyst for growth, as she had hoped it would be, and Nick was also sending other commissions her way. She was beginning to feel that maybe, just maybe, she'd turned the corner. But her cautious nature wouldn't let her go quite that far, at least not yet. Still, business was certainly booming, and for that she was grateful. Soon she might even feel secure enough to allow herself the indulgence of air-conditioning at night, she thought with a grin.

It was nearly four before Laura stopped long enough to call the garage, and as soon as Larry answered she knew there was a problem.

“I was just getting ready to call you,” he said. “I'm afraid the part hasn't come in yet. I kept thinking it might still show up this afternoon, but at this point I'm beginning to doubt it.”

Laura frowned and rubbed her brow. “Well, it's not your fault, Larry,” she said with a sigh. “Do you think it will be here tomorrow?”

“Oh, sure. I don't know what held it up today. It'll probably come first thing in the morning. I'll call you as soon as your car's ready.”

“Okay.”

“I'm sorry about this,” he said apologetically. “I know it's an inconvenience.”

“That's okay. I'll manage until tomorrow.”

Laura hung up slowly, a resigned look on her face. So much for tonight's plans. The grocery store and laundromat would just have to wait until tomorrow. She rested her chin in her hand and looked over her cluttered desk with a sigh. There was so much to do, and now she had a whole empty evening stretching ahead of her. Too many hours alone to brood about Nick, she realized. She might as well work late tonight and then catch a bus home.

Ken arrived promptly at four, and after he quickly briefed her on the day's progress, Laura told him about the car.

“No problem,” he assured her. “I can pick you up again tomorrow. Besides, the guys will have another day's reprieve from the slave driver,” he said with a grin.

His good humor was infectious, and Laura smiled. “Oh, yeah? Well, tell them I'll make up for it Friday.”

“I'll pass that along,” he said, his grin broadening. “Ready to leave?”

“Actually, I think I'll work for a while and catch a bus later.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Go on home to that beautiful wife and darling new baby,” she said, waving him out the door.

He grinned. “You don't have to convince me. I'll see you tomorrow.”

It was hunger that finally made Laura set aside her work, that and aching shoulder muscles. She was used to heavy work, but hunching over a desk and drawing table all day must use entirely different muscles, she thought, gingerly massaging her neck. She glanced at her watch and was surprised to discover that it was already eight o'clock—definitely time to call it a day.

As Laura reached for her purse her gaze fell on the telephone, and she knew that the sudden hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach was symptomatic of more than hunger. She hadn't allowed herself to think of Nick all day, but subconsciously she knew that she had been hoping he would call. Each time the phone had rung her pulse had quickened, but it was never his deep, mellow voice that greeted her. He'd probably written her off for good, she thought, pulling the door shut and turning the key in the lock. And she had no one to blame but herself.

Laura made her way dejectedly to the bus stop, telling herself it had worked out for the best, that it was what she wanted, that her life would be much less complicated without Nick in it. The only problem was that it would also be much lonelier, she admitted.

Laura had to wait longer than she expected at the bus stop, and by the time she finally boarded and was on her way dusk had descended. She hadn't taken the bus in a long time, and apparently they ran much less frequently in the evening than she remembered.

That conclusion was borne out at the next stop, where
she waited about twice as long as she expected for her connection. By the time she finally disembarked two blocks from her apartment, it was dark and she felt so bone tired that her walk home seemed to stretch out endlessly ahead of her. The lack of sleep was finally catching up with her, and all she wanted to do at the moment was stand under a warm shower, eat something and go to bed. She watched the bus disappear in a cloud of noxious fumes and, wrinkling her nose in distaste, turned wearily toward home.

Once off the main street, Laura was surprised to discover just how dark the neighborhood was at night. She didn't make a practice of wandering around once the sun set and had never noticed that the streets were so poorly lit. Since the side streets were not heavily traveled, the darkness wasn't even broken by car headlights. Nick had asked her once about the safety of the neighborhood and she had dismissed his concern, but now she looked at it with a fresh eye. It wasn't the best part of town, she'd always known that, but she'd never had any problems. So why was she suddenly nervous?

With an impatient shake of her head, she dismissed her sudden, unaccountable jitters. It was just the power of suggestion, intensified by her weariness, she told herself.

Laura had almost convinced herself that she was being silly when she felt a strange prickling at the back of her neck. It was an odd, unsettling sensation that sent a cold chill coursing through her body. Her step faltered, and she turned to look behind her. Nothing. Just shadows. Nevertheless, she picked up her pace, hugging her shoulder bag more tightly to her side.

Laura gave a sigh of relief when she at last turned the
corner to her street and her apartment came into view. Now that home was in sight, her jitters eased. After all, there was only one more patch of darkness before she came to the entrance of her building.

Laura had very little warning before it happened. There was the sudden sound of running feet close behind her, and then she felt her purse being jerked away from her shoulder. Instinctively she tightened her grip. Dear God, she was being mugged! she thought incredulously.

The attacker was momentarily taken aback by Laura's resistance, and they both froze briefly, stunned. Laura noted that he had a hat pulled low over his eyes, but in the darkness she couldn't tell much else about him except that he was tall and broad shouldered. The freeze-frame lasted only a second, and as he moved back toward her fear coursed through her body. She responded with a well-placed knee, and his grunt told her that she'd hit pay dirt. Without pausing, she snatched the purse strap out of his hands and began to run, hoping her aggressive response would discourage him.

She heard a muttered oath of anger, but instead of abandoning the attack, the man pursued her. She didn't get more than a few steps before a hand closed on her arm. She stumbled, and then was jerked roughly around. She didn't even have time to scream before a powerful fist slammed into her face.

Laura's head snapped backward from the impact of the blow, and she staggered, then fell, the breath knocked completely out of her lungs. Her nose began to bleed profusely, and one eye was watering so badly
she couldn't see. She gasped in pain as she once again felt the assailant relentlessly tugging on her purse.

“Let go,” he muttered, “or you'll get more of the same.”

Laura heard his words, but her fingers didn't relinquish their viselike grip on the purse.

“Okay, you asked for it,” he muttered.

Laura looked up, just in time to realize his intention, but too late to do anything to protect herself. A second later the hard toe of his boot viciously connected with the tender skin over her ribs, and she gasped as a searing pain shot through her side. With a moan, she curled into a tight ball in a posture of self-protection and fought the waves of blackness that swept over her.

Hazily she realized that the assailant had once again gripped her purse, grabbing a handful of her blouse at the same time. The buttons gave way in response to his vicious yank, and Laura heard the fabric rip. She moaned softly, each breath now an agony of effort, and once more blackness descended.

 

Nick pulled to a stop in front of Laura's apartment, hoping for an impromptu trip to Ted Drewes. As he turned off the engine his eyes scanned the deserted neighborhood. It was obviously not a place where couples and families took evening strolls, he thought wryly.

Or was it? he wondered idly a moment later, his eyes caught by a movement in the shadows down the street. He grew instantly alert, however, when he realized that a struggle was taking place. One of the two figures was prone on the sidewalk while the other, clearly male, tried to grab something—a purse, he noted.

Nick sucked in a sharp breath and then reacted instinctively, his heart hammering as adrenaline pumped through his body. He flung open the door and sprinted toward the mugger, shouting furiously.

“Hey! You! Leave her alone!”

The mugger whirled around, saw Nick and, after one last, futile tug on the woman's purse, abandoned the attack and took off running in the opposite direction.

In a split second Nick decided it was more important to go to the woman's aid than chase the mugger. He turned to her, and it took only a second for sudden suspicion to turn into terrible certainty. Panicked, he dropped to his knees beside her, the mugger forgotten. Her blouse had been nearly torn off and blood covered her face. One eye had already swollen shut and she seemed barely conscious, her breathing labored. The color drained from his face and he felt his stomach turn over.

“Laura?” Dazed, he reached out a tentative hand, feeling as if he were in a terrible nightmare. But her soft moan made it clear that the attack had been all too real.

“Laura, can you hear me?” he asked urgently, gripping her shoulders. Her only response was to curl into a tight ball, holding her side. Nick withdrew his handkerchief and held it against her nose, glancing around desperately for help. He couldn't leave her here and he was afraid to pick her up. He had no idea how severely she was injured.

Nick could barely remember the last time he prayed, but he suddenly found himself sending an urgent plea for assistance.
Dear Lord,
he pleaded silently, closing his eyes.
Please help us. Please!

Suddenly, as if by miracle, Nick heard a siren, and his eyes flew open. A police car, its lights flashing, was turning the corner. His shoulders sagged in relief as he mouthed a silent thank-you, and he stood and waved. The car rolled to a stop and an officer got out.