Love Inspired Suspense April 2015 #2 (20 page)

“To get Keeley,” he said, sprinting toward the office.

TWENTY-ONE

J
ohn reacted immediately when he heard the sound of glass breaking. He shoved Keeley into the bird-board-and-care room, locking the door from the outside.

“I'll be right back,” he said, voice grim.

She whirled around, panic welling up in her throat. The windows were too high for escape. Pounding on the door accomplished nothing but bruising her palm. Her screams bounced back at her until she leaned against the door panting, the birds adding their frantic squawking and wing-flapping to the noise. She looked helplessly for something, anything, that she could use to protect herself. Footsteps again echoed in the corridor.

“Keeley,” John shouted. “We're going. Now!”

She had only seconds before he'd unlock the door and shove her down the hall. Would he go back for Junie? The thought of Junie locked in the trunk gnawed at her. In a moment she had an idea, her one and only shot at creating a diversion that might let her escape to her daughter.

She plunged through the room, opening all the cages, to the kestrel, the hummingbird, the two recovering barn owls, the raucous crows. The birds might just save her and Junie. “Come on, birds. Fly away. You're free.”

They did not come out, too terrified by the noise.

Despair balled her stomach into an impenetrable knot. There was the sound of a lock being turned.

With an ungainly lurch, a crow stepped to the edge of his cage and took flight. As if encouraged by their compatriot, the barn owls did the same, followed by the hummingbird and the kestrel. In moments, the room was alive with flapping wings and agitated cries.

John burst through the door, ducking as the kestrel sailed low to avoid the owls. Instinctively he threw up a hand and Keeley shot by him, into the hallway.

He recovered and chased after her. “You won't leave me, LeeAnn. I won't let you leave me for that loser,” he shouted. He closed the ground between them until he was three yards behind, then three feet.

She could hear his enraged breathing.

“LeeAnn,” he shouted again.

She sprinted for the front door, crashing into the panic bar, falling through, landing hard on her knees.

He reached for her hair, but he never made contact.

Mick Hudson hit him with a punch so hard it took him off his feet and sent him flying backward. Nose streaming with blood, John scrambled to his feet. “LeeAnn is mine. I'll never let her go.” He launched himself at Mick again.

This time, Mick got him in the stomach. John doubled over, wheezing. Mick grabbed him by the collar and hauled him up until they were eye to eye. “That was for locking Junie in the trunk.”

John shot him a look filled with hatred.

“And the woman's name is Keeley,” Mick added, handing him over to Uttley.

* * *

Mick helped Keeley to her feet and smothered her in a hug. She clutched him close, shuddering in terror, unable to even feel the strong arms holding her close.

“Junie...” she gasped.

“She's okay. She's with your aunt in Uttley's car.”

In a moment, Viv approached, carrying Junie. “She's here. Junie is here.”

Keeley took her, crying and gulping in air at the same time. Junie cried, too, wrapping her chubby arms around Keeley's neck.

“Oh, Junie.” How could she tell her? Dr. John Bender, the man they'd counted as a friend, had murdered LeeAnn. How close he'd come to destroying their family.

She found that her knees were wobbly, so Mick guided her to Uttley's car. “Here, sit down.”

“The birds,” she gasped.

“An officer has the room closed up again,” Mick said. “They're calling a local vet to help get them in their cages.” He smiled. “That was smart thinking, to create a diversion like that.”

Junie lay down on the backseat and hid her face in her hands, a habit she had when life became too much for her. Keeley wished she could do the same.

“He killed my sister,” she whispered, “and all this time I blamed Tucker.”

Mick knelt down next to her until he could look into her eyes. “Don't hang on to that, Keeley. It's not what God wants, and it can cost you dearly.” He put a big hand on her cheek and stroked it. “Trust me on that one.”

He looked as though he wanted to say more, but the scene intensified as two more police cars pulled up, sirens wailing.

Junie moaned at the noise, and Keeley began to rub her back, just like she'd done when Junie was a newborn in the hospital.

“We're safe now, Junie Jo,” she said. “We're finally safe.”

When she again raised her head, Mick had moved away, telling his story to a cop and Chief Allen.

Their glances connected across the parking lot. Mick's shirt was rumpled, his knuckles dark with John's blood or his own torn flesh. He nodded slightly, as if he'd somehow heard what she'd just said to June.

“You're safe now,” she imagined him saying in that deep growl of his.

Finally.

A series of police officers approached the car, and the next time Keeley looked up, Mick was gone.

* * *

She did not make it to the hospital until the next day. Junie looked her best, fine hair contained in two pigtails, wearing her nicest red-checked dress and shiny patent-leather shoes. There was no way Keeley could convince June to take her fingers out of her mouth, but at least she was not crying. She'd finally fallen into an exhausted sleep in Keeley's lap on the rocking chair, and there they'd stayed all night.

Keeley did not mind her stiff back and the twinge in her neck. Junie was safe, once and for all. Now it was time to make things right.

After a deep breath, she tapped on the door and stepped into the hospital room.

Tucker straightened on the pillows and pushed the long hair out of his eyes. He was thin, chin stubbled with black, and there was an IV hooked up to his arm.

“How are you feeling?” she said.

He shrugged. “Okay. They say I might get released tomorrow, maybe.”

The silence stretched long. Tucker's eyes roved over Junie, not with love, not yet, but curiosity and a touch of sadness.

“I know her name's Junie, but what's her middle name?”

Keeley stopped him, gently removing Junie's fingers from her mouth. “Tell Mr. Rivendale your name?”

“June Josephine Stevens,” she fired off, promptly stuffing her fingers back into her mouth.

He smiled for a moment before it faded. “And she's got...” He trailed off, looking embarrassed.

“Junie has Down syndrome,” Keeley said firmly. “She's got forty-seven chromosomes instead of forty-six. She's the same as every other three-year-old in most ways. It just takes her a bit longer to learn some things and her muscles don't do what she wants sometimes.”

“Mine, either,” Tucker said. “She's got LeeAnn's eyes.”

“Yes,” Keeley said, throat thick. “And she has your smile.”

“You think so?”

Keeley nodded. “I do.” She heaved in another deep breath. “Tucker, I'm very sorry about misjudging you.”

He lifted a shoulder. “In some ways you were probably right. I was looking for the quick buck, which got me into trouble in the first place, gave Reggie an easy way to get to me even when I went clean. I deserved much of what I got. Told the same thing to Mick earlier.”

“Mick was here?”

He nodded. “Couple of hours ago. On his way out of town.”

Her heart plummeted. “Oh. Well, I'm glad you got to talk to him.”

“Should have gone to him when Reggie started pressuring me, but I figured Mick was in on it. I guess I misjudged him, too.”

“You didn't deserve to be blamed for LeeAnn's death, and I'm truly sorry. I'm sorry for not telling you that June was yours.” She grasped Junie a little tighter. “You're her father and if...if you want to be a part of her life, that would be a good thing.”

“LeeAnn knew I could be a jerk,” he said, chewing his lip. “I'm sure that's why she didn't tell me. She knew I didn't want to be a dad. I'm not the greatest role model.”

“You loved my sister. That's enough.”

He broke into that wide, infectious grin that she sometimes saw on her daughter's face. “I'd like to visit sometime.”

She returned the smile, which did not push back the sadness she felt knowing that Mick Hudson was gone. “We'd like that.”

* * *

Mick walked in the hospital lobby, sat awkwardly in a chair too small for his long legs, paced around for a while and then went back outside. He tried strolling casually around the landscaped front where there was a walking path designed to calm visitors. Strolling was not a thing he'd ever mastered, and after he startled an older lady with a cane who looked at him as if he was going to mug her, he gave up and went back to the truck, leaning on the front bumper, hands in his pockets.

He saw Keeley come out, hair shining in the sunlight. Something warm and rich blossomed in his stomach as he watched her put Junie down and straighten the little girl's pigtails, which had gotten awry. The warm sensation was followed by cold prickles. Terror, to be precise. What was he doing? When had his life motto of caution and good sense flown right out the proverbial window?

The answer was easy. The moment he'd woken up on her couch, the second he'd seen her cock that chin in brilliant determination to protect her daughter.

The instant she'd thrown his check back at him with stubborn pride.

He swallowed, waved at them.

Keeley joined him, puzzled. “I thought you'd left.”

“I did. Went to see my dad. Came back. How'd it go with Tucker?”

She sighed. “I think it's going to be okay. He wants to get to know June when he puts his life back in order.”

“He's earned that right, I guess.”

She nodded.

He stood, blowing out a breath. The words exited his mouth in a rush. “I came back to buy you a bread machine.”

She blinked. “What?”

Had he really said that? “I wanted to get you one, a new one, before I left.”

“Oh. Well. That was nice.”

He fumbled on, like a clumsy bird at the edge of the nest. “And I was standing there in front of all the machines on the shelf, and I realized I like the one you have, because it's duct-taped, because you try to fix things yourself.” He swallowed. “Like you fixed me,” he added.

Junie squatted down in the grass bordering the parking lot, looking for bugs.

“Mick,” Keeley said, brow furrowed, “what are you trying to say exactly?”

“I'm no good at it.” He scrubbed a hand over his face “The words just don't come out right.”

“Just say what's inside you.”

He pulled a paper from his pocket. “I wrote it down.”

Her lips curved. “You wrote down what you wanted to say to me?”

“Yeah.” What kind of a man needed notes? His face went hot, his body skewered by intense uncertainty.

“Read it.”

“Well, uh, the first part here says—” He tried to clear the boulder from his throat. “It says Reasons Why I Love Keeley Stevens.”

Her eyes widened. “It does?”

“Yes, ma'am,” he said, face burning. “It sure does.”

Her mouth opened in an O of shock.

He pushed on. “Number one is, ‘She is determined, fierce about love and all the things that matter. She is both strong and gentle at the same time.'”

He looked at his shoes. A poet, he was not.

“Keep going,” she said, voice almost a whisper.

“‘When I am with her, I feel like I'm where God meant me to be.'” His throat thickened, hands sweaty on the paper.

“What's number three?”

He smoothed the paper and gently folded it shut, focusing now on her perfect face. “Number three is that I love you and Junie. I've spent the past decade hiding away from everything and everyone, and no one made me want to change that except you.”

“Mick...” she said.

“I figured you might not see things like I do, and if you want to send me packing, I will respect that. You've got a child to raise and you have to put her first. That's as it should be.”

They both looked at Junie, oblivious as she combed through the grass.

Keeley shook her head slowly. “I haven't trusted anyone.”

“Guess you got your reasons after what happened to LeeAnn.”

“And now I've got even better reasons, since it turns out it was John who killed her.” Tears shimmered in her eyes, and he caught the slight stiffening in her posture.

He felt a pain in his chest. She did not want him, didn't trust him; too much had happened in the past that would prevent them from having a future. He should walk away, except for the flood of love rising in his body that kept him rooted there. He could not leave, not until he knew for sure.

He pulled a ring from his pocket.

She stared at the gold circle.

“It was my mother's. She was an amazing woman, and I asked Dad if he would mind if it was worn by another amazing woman. He said it would be an honor.” Mick dropped to one knee. “Would you marry me, Keeley?”

She gaped. “I...”

“I know I don't deserve you, but I promise every day of my life to try to make you happy.”

A single tear trickled down her cheek, but still she did not speak.

“And I've got one more thing to say, but I didn't write this part down, either, so it's gonna come out rough.” He rose and fished in his pocket with the other hand. He found the little gold bracelet with the gold heart charm and held it up, the sunlight burnishing it to brilliance. “This is for Junie. I'm not her father, and really you're all the parent she needs from what I can see, but if you allow me the honor of joining your family, I will do my best by her as long as I'm alive.”

Then he knelt there again, with a ring in one hand and the bracelet in the other, looking into the vivid blue eyes of the most precious gift God had ever graced him with, knowing she might very well be about to turn him down.