Adirondack Audacity (43 page)

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Authors: L.R. Smolarek

BOOK: Adirondack Audacity
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I nod, aware of the sharp pain on my left side. I lift
my crumbled hand for his inspection. I inhale sharply as
he gently examines each digit. To take my mind off the
pain, I picture Vic charging up the mountain followed by
Lani, Jason, Trey and Hanna in tow. I take great comfort
and a little humor in the thought. That’s my man-all brash
and bravado.

“Yeah, this hand needs attention.”
He reaches into a
medical bag at his side pulling out a splint device.
Officer McNeil rambles on as my feeble brain spins
to keep up with him. “We told Mr. Diago that spending a
day or two with a S.W.A.T. team does not qualify him to
join in the apprehension, especially when the
apprehension concerns a loved one. We don’t allow our
own officers to participle if a family member is involved.
Your judgment’s clouded and you’re not thinking
rationally. It’s just not done.” He nods matter of factly.
He looks up from his ministering, his right hand holding
the splint securely in place. “Even in light of the
seriousness of the situation, we couldn’t help calling him
Rambo II.”
“He still insisted, didn’t he?” Somehow it was
reassuring to know the depth of his fear and concern.
“Insist is putting it mildly; if his daughter hadn’t
calmed him down, physical restraint would have been
necessary. Hey, Tom, pass me over a bottle of water.”
He deftly catches a plastic bottle tossed in his direction, a
quick twist of his wrist, and he’s holding precious relief in
his hand. “Now, you look kind of parched. So we are
going to take it slow, too much will make you sick.”
I nod feebly as he eases me into a sitting position.
Only the pressure of his strong hand prevents me from
gulping the entire bottle. Leaning back into his muscular
arms, I start to feel better. Hey, he’s actually kind of
cute….okay….now I know I’m feeling better.
“So you didn’t have to tie him down?” I ask, my stiff
muscles starting to relax as the warmth of his chest seeps
into the cocoon of the wool blanket.
“No, you have good kids. Anxious as they were, they
understood the logic behind our decision. And they
reasoned with him. Your future son-in-law managed to
keep everyone organized and cooperate with us.”
Jason.
Officer McNeil continues, “I would expect Rambo any
second. This mountain isn’t going to slow him down. He
looks to be in pretty good shape.” He gives a rueful
laugh, adjusting the blanket, pulling it closer. “I don’t
think I’ll be carrying you down.”
Another man clad in khaki kneels down beside us and
asks, “How’s our lady doing?”
“I think she’s going to be just fine, a little rest and
some readjustment of bones, she’ll be fit as a fiddle.” He
eases his head back to peer into my face. “You doing
okay?” I nod weakly.
“This is Officer Tom Pulanski, Ellen.” Officer
McNeil gestures toward a freckled face police officer who
doesn’t look old enough to drive. His uniform baseball
cap perched backwards on his head, a thatch of red hair
sticking out the front. With an impish grin, he looks like
one of Trey’s friends waiting for pizza in my family room.
“Tom’s the head of our tracking operation.” McNeil
adds.
Really….God, I feel old. I smile in his direction and
whisper, “How did you find me?”
“A lady was walking her dog at the trailhead this
morning, and saw you lying on the ground with your
hands tied behind your back. Freeport was holding you at
gun point. And because your kidnapper wasn’t very smart
and left evidence at the point of abduction, we were able
to release an A.P.B. last night and the woman recognized
the situation. Lucky for you, she was able to use her cell
phone. A helicopter response team coupled with search
and rescue dogs, and we were tracking you in no time.”
Officer Pulanski grins with unabashed pride over his part
in the rescue. “Rambo remembered your suspicions
about the man from the museum so we were able to track
down some information about the suspect. The local
search and rescue team knew the area which allowed us
to zero in on a target zone. Oh, by the way, one of the
guys on the S & R team seems to know you.”
Oh, God……Josh. What must he be thinking….here
she goes….again. First, the skinny dipping incident with
the cops followed by shoving him in the river and now a
S.W.A.T. team with the entire county on alert. Yeah, this
kid’s going to love me. Who wants a resident wacko for a
mother? I nod, locking eyes with Pulanski, not feeling so
good again.
“I think his name is Josh,” he screws his face up in
thought. “You know, he looks an awful lot like your
Rambo friend.”
I close my eyes and nod, attempting to stem the fresh
wave of nausea washing over me. I clutch McNeil’s shirt
to anchor my spinning head. Josh and Vic…together that
had to be some reunion, like looking in the mirror. Is
Josh suspicious?
The sound of pounding feet, an explosion of cracking
branches, accompanied by heavy breathing and someone
frantically calling my name……Vic has arrived.
“Elle!” He cries, running towards me, his face taut
with concern. “Ella, Ella,mia, are you hurt? Is she all
right?” His eyes search the police officers faces, fear and
worry radiate from him.
Officer Pulanski holds out a hand, slowing him down,
“Easy sir, she’s going to be fine. But we have to take care;
she has a few broken bones.”
“Are you sure? Elle, look at me, baby.” His eyes
beseech me, “How can she be all right, look at her?”
“Elle…” his voice cracks with emotion. “What did he
do to you?” He holds out a trembling hand to caress my
cheek, but pulls back at the last second; afraid his touch
will cause me pain.
“Vic,” I thought I screamed his name, but the sound
emerging from my lips, no more than a croak.
“Sweet Jesus, Ellen.” He’s pissed, he’s calling me
Ellen again, that means he’s mad. A single tear cascades
down his cheek, the muscles in his jaw twitch. “This is it,
Elle, I can’t take it anymore. Do you hear me! When I get
you down this mountain, I’m grabbing the first minister,
justice of the peace, or whatever the hell I can find.…
and once the doctors give you clearance….
You
are
fucking going to marry me! Ike and I will be your
bodyguards 24/7. I’ve almost lost you three times. I can’t
take this anymore….No more bullshit about where we
are going to live, old lives, new lives, children, and who
the hell gives a flying shit!!…..You’re killing me. I’m
never letting you out of my sight. Ever! Ever! Again! Do
you hear me?!
He looks exhausted, the worry of the past few days
erupting in a volley of emotion. I long to touch his face,
and ease the lines of tension bracketing his lips; smooth
away the deep crevice of worry between his black brows.
“Dad, was that a proposal?” Vic glances over his
shoulder at the sight of Hanna, Lani, Jason and Trey.
Faces scratched, hair flying in all directions, clothes
ripped and marred by dirt streaks.
Boy
, are they going to
make me pay for this…..Lani and Hanna hate wilderness
experiences, their idea of the outdoors is having their
nails done in the suburbs.
“Mom!” Lani sobs, falling to her knees, eyes blurred
and red from exhaustion and crying. “Mom, tell us you’re
all right. Mom, please say something?” I try lifting my
crippled hand, and nod weakly in her direction.
“It’s over, sweetie.” I whisper. “I’ll be fine.” Lani
breaks down into gasping sobs of relief. Trey kneels
beside her, his hands kneading the curve of her shoulder,
his face a tight wall of concern… his eyes never leave my
face.
“Mom?” He utters in a hoarse whisper. A broken
smile slides across my lips, our eyes lock and I nod.
“Dad,” Hanna crouches down, placing an arm over
her father’s shoulders. “I think you need to rephrase that
proposal.
You’re fucking going to marry me,
boy, what a
declaration of love. I can only hope my future husband is
such a romantic. Not!” She laughs, kneeling down to give
her father an affectionate hug. “Thank God, we found
you, Ellen. I can’t imagine living with this lunatic for the
rest of my life if he lost you. He was like,
totally
insane.”
Jason nods vigorously in agreement.
“I was not!” Vic insists defensively glaring at the
group. Everyone, including the S.W.A.T. team; roll their
eyes, and snort with laughter.
“Yeah….right.” Lani says with a knowing wink at
Officer McNeil. “So about that proposal?”
“Of course, I mean it. Damn it to hell!” He shakes his
head in exasperation. “I’ve been trying to marry her for
the last six months. And since she’s come up here, she’s
done nothing but get herself into trouble.”
Holy moly, don’t
have a cow.
And the thought of spending the rest of my life
sheltered in his arms, always and forever…my dull mind
wraps around one word,
bliss.
“Can I hold her?” Vic opens his arms, reaching for
me. Officer McNeil slowly releases his hold, transferring
me to Vic who locks me in his strong arms. I press my
cheek to his chest, listening to the steady beat of his
heart. Over the throbbing in my head, I hear him whisper
my name, over and over, like a prayer.
“Are you really okay?” He brushes his thumb across
the corner of my lips. “I was so afraid he would kill you.”
“Yeah, I had the same thought.” I say, snuggling
against his chest, drawing comfort from his body.
“Tell me, what can I do?” He slides his hand along
the length of my body, the heat of his palm radiating
through the blanket.
“Hold me, Vic.” I whisper. “Hold me, and never let
me go.”
“Ella, Ella, my bella,” He murmurs, burrowing his
head into my dirty tangled hair. He pushes back a stray
lock, gently tucking it behind my ear.
He strokes my face with the back of his fingers,
wishing to take away the fear and terror. “My mia
bella…..marry me, tomorrow.”
“No.”
I smile as his expression pulls into a frown, confusion
clouds his face, he looks askance to the children, as if he
heard wrong.
“Elle?” he questions.
I press a fingertip to his lips, a mischievous light
twinkles in my eyes. I love him. I will always love him.
“Soon,” I say, “I want to marry you, but at the lake house
with our friends and family surrounding us.” He smiles,
his lips curve beneath my fingertips. My voice raspy from
disuse continues, “I want champagne, fireworks and I
want to wear white. Just because. And I want our son
there.”
A tall figure casts a shadow as he crouches down
beside us. “I would be honored to be included, and quite
frankly,” he chuckles, “It’s about time the two of you got
married and made me legitimate.”
Josh…..
Josh more than suspects, he knows.
“Like I was saying,” Josh continues, “It’s about time
the two of you made me legal. I’ve always known I was
adopted and Claire picked up immediately on the
resemblance between Ellen and my son, Ansel. And
when I saw Mr. Diago yesterday, up close and in person,
the physical resemblance along with certain mannerisms,
that we both possess, I thought I was looking in the
mirror. So?…do you have something to tell me?”
Vic and I start babbling at once. Yes, he is our son.
We didn’t want to give him up for adoption; he was taken
from us at birth. And now that we found him, we
thought if he got to know us first, it would be less of a
shock when he learned we were his biological parents.
“Please don’t think we’re crazy stalker people.” I beg
him.
“Are you kidding? I’m touched by the care and
concern you have for my feelings. And if the last few
weeks prove to be any indication of the future, between
the two of you, there’ll never be a dull moment. Throw in
a few new brothers and sisters…I think life is going to
get much more interesting.”
My voice tremulous, “Can I ask just one thing?”
Josh smiles; emotion softens his face, “Anything.”
I open my arms and ask, “May I hug you?” Broken
finger and bruised ribs forgotten, I engulf my son and
hold him as I’ve so desperately longed to do….and feel
the very being of him seep into my soul, his strength and
goodness beneath my hands, and know I’ve found my
son….
at last.

Chapter 47
Home, Sweet Home

My nose twitches like a rabbit. Something smells
good, a smell so divine, it pulls me from deep slumber.
Sprawled on my stomach, head stuffed into the pillow
with just my nose peeking out, I smell it. And it’s coming
closer, pushing aside tousled hair I see a mug thrust into
my face. With a happy sigh, I roll over to a cup of coffee,
followed by a plate with a cinnamon bun fresh from the
oven. Pulling myself into a setting position, I see Vic
standing next to the bed, dressed only in a pair of low
slung jeans hugging his hips in all the right places, and
low enough to expose those six-pack abs. And I find
myself humming along with Julie Andrews……girls in
white dresses with blue satin sashes, snowflakes that fall
on my nose and eyelashes, silver white winters that melt
into spring…….these are a few of my favorite things and
standing before me ……..is one of my favorite things. If
I died now…….. it would be a happy death.

“Wow
!” I smile at him in appreciation.
“You’re welcome, now get up.”
“Up? I’m happy here. And I’d be a lot happier if you

came and joined me.” I lift the blanket in invitation.
“Nope. I’ve got plans.” He says and starts rummaging
through the dresser tossing out a pair of jeans, t-shirt and
sweater, followed by a bra and panties.
“What plans? Hey!” I protest as he takes the mug and
plate putting them out of my reach. “What are you
doing?”
“Getting you out of bed.” He replies, pulling a shirt
over his head. I feign a pout. There’s nothing like the
sight of a taut abdomen and well defined biceps with your
morning coffee.
Who needs doughnuts?
“I’ll be down on the dock and I expect you in twenty
minutes.”
“What…..why?”
“And don’t be late.”
Bossy, bossy, bossy.
I grumble as
my feet hit the cold hardwood floor. You’d think after all
I’ve been through he would be more considerate……just
because he’s hovered over me for the last ten days after
shooing our children home, he’d continue taking care of
me ….indefinitely. I liked having my own personal stud
butler. Complete with dark hair, gorgeous eyes, and a
very
fine butt.
After all, it’s not every day a person is kidnapped
by a maniac and needs to be rescued. That deserves extra
attention… I wasn’t kidding about the invitation between
the sheets. Sighing, I pick up my clothes from the foot of
the bed, noticing he didn’t choose very sexy underwear.
Granny panties! What’s wrong with him, he
always
notices
my underwear.

Hopping down the lawn while trying to put on
sandals takes all my concentration until I stop, gawking at
the sight in front of me. An old wooden canoe riding
high in the water is tied to the dock. Its varnished sides
gleam in the morning sun, and a bouquet of white daisies
rests against the gunnels. A wicker picnic basket sits in
the bow while a caned-back seat cushioned with a life
jacket takes up the middle of the boat.
“Wow!” I exclaim halting, one foot in my hand,
amazed at the sight before me. “What’s this?
Wow and
double wow!

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