Forbidden Falls (28 page)

Paul took a big slug of beer. Then he said, “Um, Vanni? I’m a little behind here, sweetheart.”

She turned and looked at him. “I’m sorry, darling. My head is spinning. I’ve been thinking so hard today, about everything. Hannah’s grandma, Terri’s mom, sent a big box full of memorabilia. Pictures of Terri, her cup and spoon, her stuffed puppy…Terri’s whole life fit in a box and her mother’s very sick with MS. I need to bring Hannah to see her right away.”

“Jack said you were trying to find Rick today….?”

“Oh, that. Uh-huh. I had to find out from Rick how he felt growing up, with his parents gone since he was a baby. He said he had his grandma to answer his questions about his mom and dad. If I don’t find out as much as I can about Terri while her mother is able to tell me, I won’t be able to answer Hannah’s questions when she’s older.”

“Oh,” Paul said dumbly, thunderstruck and afraid to ask anything more.

“I asked Rick if he felt he missed out on anything and he said, not really—his grandma was great. But there was one thing he said—it would have been nice to have had a regular family. A mom and a dad. Paul, I want Hannah to have a mom and a dad who love her. I have to get to work on that!”

Paul felt his eyes sting. “We’re keeping her?” he asked softly.

“As my friend Ellie would say, you’re damn skippy.”

Paul swallowed hard, afraid he might burst into tears. He took a drink of his beer and set it down. He cleared his throat. “I’ll take a couple of days off, take you to Grants Pass…”

She focused on Paul. “Are you sure? I know you need to work. You have so many projects. And if we’re going to have a houseful of kids, you’re going to have to make a decent living.”

“I’ll call Dan Brady,” Paul said. “He loves it when I leave him in charge. I don’t want you to have to do this alone.”

Vanni got a little teary. “I looked through those pictures, Paul. And I realized that if I didn’t act soon, a real important part of Hannah’s babyhood could be lost. I don’t want her to have one month of her life without a mom and dad who adore her. While we’re in Grants Pass, we should give Mr. Hanson a call and tell him to get our paperwork going. Unless you have reservations.”

He shook his head. “No. I’m good with the idea. It’s all up to you.”

“Well, I had a lot of things to consider. But I thought about it just a little too long. Hannah calls me Mama. And she is not going to lose another mama. Not this precious girl. We need to get on the road first thing in the morning.”

He swallowed down his emotion. “Sure. Of course.” Filled with relief, his heart bursting with pride in his wife, with respect for her generosity and compassion, all he could do was get up from his chair and put a soft kiss on her brow. “Want me to do baths while you cook lasagna?”

“That would be good,” she said. “And please, don’t forget the hard-to-get places—neck wrinkles, backs of ears, between toes. Your mother checks those things.”

He laughed a little emotionally. “She does, huh?” And he thought how lucky he was to have a mom like that. And now both Hannah and Matt would have one like that, too. Fussy. Committed.

Noah was researching Arnold Gunterson again. Besides his age and current address the only thing Ellie could tell him was that Arnie said he grew up in Southern California. Noah found nothing to match. Nothing anywhere. In fact, his house was owned by a woman—he must be renting it. Noah even bit the bullet and plunked down a credit-card number to a couple of online-search companies and there was still nothing. Funny enough, he could look himself and George up on Google and get way too much information on a couple of relatively dull Presbyterian ministers.

Yet the only thing he could find on Arnold Gunterson was his marriage to and divorce from Ellie Baldwin, which was less than two years old. He wasn’t even pulling up Arnie’s current address or place of employment. And the Brightway Private Elementary School gave the bios for the board of directors, but only the names of the teaching staff and director.

There was something so eerie and sinister about those locks on the outside of the door, about the way he’d followed them, about his threats. Noah had a gut feeling there was a lot more to Arnie than met the eye. Upon researching, there was in fact less information than he expected.

But—as the principal of a private elementary school, there would have to be information available to the parents of prospective students, not to mention fingerprinting, which was required in almost all states. He would have a résumé he would list his credentials and the universities from which he received them. There would probably be framed degrees on the walls and a packet of information for prospective students and their parents that outlined policies. Clearly, Arnold would not happily give any information to someone like Noah or Brie. Nor could Mel or Jack, Jo or Nick, or anyone who Arnold might have seen before visit the school and inquire.

Noah knew he needed more information.

He decided to get a few chores done to keep his hands busy while he was thinking. That old faded blue pickup he drove had been misfiring and sputtering a bit lately, so he went outside and got under the hood. Before long he found himself changing the points and plugs, cleaning off the battery, adding water to the radiator.

Jack wandered out of the bar and, as men will do, got his head under the hood, as well, lending a hand. While this was going on, Noah was thinking out loud, complaining about the lack of information he had on Arnold Gunterson and his inability to think of a way to get more.

“Wait a minute,” Jack finally said. “I know someone Arnold hasn’t seen before, and they happen to have an elementary-school-aged son.”

Before the afternoon was over Jack and Noah were talking to John and Paige Middleton about visiting a private school in Redway to discuss enrolling their son, Christopher. And to see what they could learn about the school and its director.

It seemed to Ellie that people were just a bit uncomfortable around her, as if they’d love to ask for the details about all that trash Arnie had spewed. Of course, she had explained to Vanessa and Jo Ellen immediately what parts were true, and what were just malicious attempts to make her look horrible. It was the vast number of people she didn’t know well that she imagined were looking at her strangely. Perhaps judgmentally. Perhaps thinking less of Noah because of her. There wasn’t much she could do about it, but it bothered her.

If it weren’t for that nagging worry, Ellie wouldn’t have a care in the world. She went home from her work at the church, showered off the paint and grime, and went to Jo’s to be with her kids. They were sitting at the kitchen table while Jo prepared dinner. Jo was asking Danielle spelling words for her upcoming test and Trevor was coloring.

“Can I help, Jo?” Ellie asked.

“After we finish our spelling, you can set the table. Danielle will help. Danielle, tell Mommy about your school.”

“It’s nice, Mama,” she said. “And I wish I could ride the bus, but Jo said not till we get more comfortable.”

“I would have to agree with that,” Ellie said. “Did you like the teacher?”

“Her name’s Mrs. Spencer, and she’s not even as old as you, Mama. And guess what? She says I’m a little bit ahead in the class. I took a couple of tests for her and she was very happy with me.”

“Wonderful. Did you make any friends?”

“Just the hello-goodbye friends. You know—the kind who are nice to you, but they have other, better friends. I kind of had to eat my lunch alone.”

Ellie’s heart ached. “Kind of?” she asked. She noticed that Jo smiled over her shoulder at Ellie.

“I went to a table by myself and then some other kids sat there, too. Except they were already together. So I was with them, but by myself.”

“Tomorrow Danielle is going to take some extra cookies in her lunch,” Jo said. “Sometimes if you have something to share, it gets conversation going.”

“There’s one boy in my class who’s in trouble all the time. I think he’s one of them hyperactive boys. He sits in the hall a lot when he makes Mrs. Spencer’s head hurt.”

“Why do you think that? That he’s hyperactive?”

“Mrs. Spencer said, ‘Joshua, did your mother remember your medicine this morning?’ and he said he wasn’t sure. And, Mama, he’s a wiggle worm and he makes a mess and picks his boogers.”

“Ew,” Ellie said. “Goodness.” She saw Jo’s shoulders shake with laughter.

“I don’t sit by him,” Danielle said. “But I like Mrs. Spencer. Mama, do you think I’ll be in that class very long?”

Oh, God, Ellie thought. She’s already worrying about moving again. “I don’t know, honey. We’re going to have to take it one day at a time.”

“Danielle, help your mother set the table and we’ll run through the spelling words one more time before bed,” Jo said. “How does that sound?”

“Good,” she said, putting her notebook aside.

“Set the table for five,” Jo said. “We’ll just eat in the kitchen tonight. And remember place mats.”

When dinner was done, Ellie got her kids ready for bed, then went back to the kitchen to help clean up dishes. Then back to the bathrooms to make sure they were cleaned up, tubs scoured, sinks wiped out, towels hung. And before long the house had quieted down, with only the sound of the TV in Nick’s den.

Jo came back to the kitchen after kisses good-night and got down a couple of mugs. “Will a cup of coffee keep you up?” she asked Ellie.

“Not if I just stick to one,” she said.

“Good. Let’s talk. I can feel the rough edges, Ellie. You’re worried about taking advantage of me, about eating my food and straining the space in my house. I want you to let that go. I asked for this arrangement because, selfishly, all my life I have wanted to have family around. And even though we’re not related by blood, we’ve become good friends. Please, don’t be in a hurry to leave as some favor to me.”

“This will be resolved soon, Jo. The judge isn’t going to have any excuse to keep me from having custody…”

“I know,” Jo said. “But nothing has to change, Ellie. Even Nick is happy with our situation. Can’t you tell? I’m certainly not going to pressure you to stay—it’s your life and your family. But, if you’re okay with this—”

“Jo, I can’t let you feed us, shelter us, drive my kids around forever. It would be irresponsible of me.”

“Fine,” Jo said. “Pay your rent on time. Go to the grocery store sometimes. Help with chores, just like you’ve been doing. Earn your keep. But what we have here is a safe environment for you and the kids, comfortable living conditions, and you even have a little privacy with that room over the garage—a single woman your age should have a little privacy now and then. Ellie, you’re not a burden. You fill a place in my life that’s been empty for a long time.”

“You know we can’t live like this forever.”

“If things work out for you, even if you don’t live in my house, we might be in the same town for a long time. I might be able to meet the school bus while you’re working. We might shop together, have tea on the porch, and I’d love to teach you to quilt, if you’re interested. My mother was a master quilter. And have you ever canned? Because the fruits and vegetables from the farmers’ markets and roadside stands in this part of the country are just incredible. I’ll show you how. Oh!” Jo said, noticing a tear on Ellie’s cheek. “I’m being too pushy, aren’t I?”

Ellie shook her head. “I don’t deserve you,” she said in a whisper. “I think you’re the best friend I’ve ever had. At least since my gramma…”

Jo shrugged. “Honey, you’re my only shot at something that resembles a daughter and grandchildren. And I intend to nurture the opportunity. I’m just saying—this is your home for as long as you want it.”

Ellie hugged Jo good-night at the front door and went to her room—the room she loved. She took a book with her—a romance novel that Jo thought she might enjoy. She put on her comfy boxers and T-shirt, propped herself up in her double bed with the firm mattress and read for a couple of hours, feeling completely decadent and self-indulgent. And relaxed.

There was a soft knock at the door and she glanced at the time on the bedside clock radio; it was after ten. She opened the door and smiled at Noah.

“Never do that again,” he said sternly. “We don’t really know how far we can trust Arnold.” And then he brushed past her to enter.

“I knew it was you, Noah,” she said, closing the door. “I could hear Lucy panting.”

“You thought you knew it was me. It could have been Arnold panting. I don’t think it would take much to say, ‘Who’s there?’ before you open the door.”

“I can do that,” she said, smiling. Lucy made herself comfortable at the foot of the bed on the corner of the area rug. “What are you doing here, Noah?” she whispered.

“You going to make me say it?” he asked, and couldn’t suppress a smile against her lips. “I’m here to make that kind of love you like, when it’s a little wild and out of control, which is just how I feel when I’m close to you. Out of control. Desperate. Famished. Starving for you.”

“Okay,” she said in a breath, her eyelids dropping closed. She leaned into him. “Only if you have protection….”

“Of course, sweetheart. I wouldn’t put you at risk.” He kissed her deeply, licking her lips apart to let him inside. “Why aren’t you on the pill?”

“Hmm. Because I gave up men….”

He chuckled, low in his throat. “How’s that working out for you….?”

“I was fine until you. You’ve messed up a lot of my plans.”

“You played hell on mine, too,” he groaned, lifting her T-shirt over her head, tossing it and steering her toward the bed. He eased her back and kneeled over her, kicking off his shoes and tugging at her boxers. She didn’t even think about resisting him, but rather lifted her hips so he could slide them down. “I guess we both have to be flexible.”

She laughed at him, reaching for him. “Flexible? Come here. I just can’t resist you.” She pulled him down and tugged his shirt out of his trousers and he finished the job, tossing it aside. Her hands were on his belt buckle. Then the button. Then the zipper. Then inside, causing him to draw in his breath sharply.

As her hands ran down his hips, pushing his pants down so he could kick them free, he fell on her, taking her mouth almost savagely. “You. Taste. Wonderful,” he said. “The best thing about going crazy wanting you is the way you want me right back. This feels so right…” He scrambled through his pants pockets for a condom. “I crave you, and I love the feeling.” And that fast, he was inside her, buried deep in her, moaning with the pleasure it gave him.

“And I love you,” she said softly.

He was utterly still. Even his breathing stopped for a moment. He knew he was unresponsive for too long, then he gently lowered his lips to hers and in a solemn whisper he said, “I love you, too, with my whole heart. I wondered if you were ever going to say it.”

“I don’t know if loving me is one of your smarter moves,” she whispered. “It’s like trouble follows me wherever I go.”

“Not anymore, Ellie. From now on, it’ll only be the good stuff. For the rest of our lives together, only the good stuff.”

“Right now I’ll try to concentrate on good stuff for one more day, maybe one more week. I’m afraid to think any further ahead than that.”

“I understand, but I want you to know that I’m thinking lots further. And, honey, I don’t see any dark clouds. Maybe pretty soon you’ll forget to be afraid….”

She smiled and pulled his lips back down to hers, wrapped her legs around his waist and moved against him in a powerful way that had him gasping for breath and groaning with desire. Her eyes were opened enough to watch the clenching of his jaw as he held himself back, waiting for her. And the wait was not long; she exploded into pleasure so blinding, her back arched beneath him and she threw her head back, baring her throat.

He put soft kisses on her neck and shoulder while she shuddered. And then, his movements slow and luxurious, he joined her. And then he stayed with her until the wee hours of the morning.

Once Vanessa and Paul got to Grants Pass and could leave little Matt with Paul’s mom, they were off to the nursing home. Vanessa put Hannah’s cutest outfit on her along with her new high-top sneakers—good ballast for those early steps. When they got to the nursing home, they left the box of pictures in the car. Vanni carried Hannah on her hip. Hannah clutched the stuffed puppy that had been Terri’s. Vanni, a woman on a mission, went directly to the receptionist and asked if someone could direct her to Roberta Bradford. A nurse’s aide was called to the front and when she arrived, she reached a hand out to shake Vanni’s. “This is a good thing you’re doing, Mr. and Mrs. Haggerty,” she said.

“Hannah and her grandmother need this time,” Vanni said.

“You have no idea,” the aide replied. “We’ve all been so concerned about her since the loss of her daughter. Come with me. She’s been waiting in the lunchroom.”

Vanni followed along. There were a few elderly people playing cards, some watching soap operas on TV. Over by the window, in a wheelchair, was an attractive woman in her midsixties; she looked across the room at them.

Vanni walked toward Roberta, Paul following closely. When she was right in front of her, Vanni said, “Mrs. Bradford?”

A couple of large tears ran under her thick glasses and down her cheeks. She reached trembling hands toward them and said in a soft voice, “My God, thank you for bringing her. It’s like a trip into the past. Hannah looks just like her. My sweet little Terri.”

And Vanni was reminded, not for the first time, that the loss of a child is probably the most brutal loss of all, no matter that child’s age.

A couple of days later when Noah went to the bar for breakfast, Paige came out from the kitchen with a file folder containing some papers. It contained information from her visit with Arnold Gunterson at the private elementary school. “I found him likable,” she said. “This is a guy who padlocked his unsupervised children into a house and I found him likable? What’s going on with him?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Noah said. “Not only the padlock deal, but he followed Ellie and I at a deadly pace—we were in her little PT Cruiser and he was in a huge, black SUV with darkened windows. There were only inches between us. No telling what he’s capable of.”

“The scariest thing is, I’d put my son in his school in a second. The only good news is, John didn’t like him, almost on sight.”

“But why?” Noah asked.

“The handshake, he said. First of all, it was too firm, and second, it was a politician’s shake—Gunterson used two hands and squeezed John’s hand real hard. Who would dare do that to John? What if he squeezed back? And John said that while Gunterson smiled, his pupils shrank to pinpoints. So, look through this stuff. It’s all yours. I hope it tells you something.”

“I can’t thank you enough, Paige. We have to figure this out, get ahead of him, for Ellie’s sake.”

“Didn’t you tell me Ellie said he came from Southern California?” Paige asked.

“That’s what she said, yeah.”

“Well, not this Arnold Gunterson. He came from Maine.”

“Maine?” Noah repeated. “Maine?”

“Yeah,” Paige said. “Think he could’ve gotten any farther from home? You know, every time I hear some news story about a creep who’s hurt or molested a kid, he or she’s in a position to work with kids and they were supposed to be fingerprinted, but they weren’t. Do you think maybe it’s possible that this guy should have been checked out and wasn’t? Because he can be convincing?”