Loving Tenderness (16 page)

She longed for a real home for JJ and now the baby—a home where they could have a yard and maybe a pet. Andrew had offered her that home with his proposal, and now that he’d said he loved her and she’d begun to believe him, Hannah desperately wanted to accept his offer of marriage. But not until JJ was home safely.

Hannah turned from the window and sank onto the sofa, resting her head on the cushion. Andrew had given her so much. Besides friendship, he’d offered support and, most important, had helped her renew her faith. He’d taught her that despite life’s failings, God never gave up on His children.

When she’d learned about Andrew’s past, the details had surprised her—in truth, upset her—since she wondered if he would slip back into that mold again. Jack had seemed like an all-right guy until his true character arose from beneath his disguise. She’d misjudged Jack. She’d been duped into a marriage that was doomed. Looking back, Hannah had seen the signs, but she
hadn’t wanted to believe them. She’d thought a life with Jack would be better than the life of poverty and loneliness she’d been leading. She’d been so wrong.

All Hannah had wanted was to be truly loved. How long did it take her to realize that God truly loved her? He had not given up on her or betrayed her. The Lord had been her shelter and shield, and she’d let Him down. And Andrew. He’d tried to stick by her side, support her, and love her, but she hadn’t believed it. She’d let him down, too, by refusing his proposal.

Thank you, Father, for so many blessings, but today I need Your help again. I want to find my son. Make my life complete once more. You’ve given me a man to love me unselfishly and a new baby to raise knowing You are the Almighty and the giver of all good gifts. Now please give me back my son. Protect him until—

A sob erupted from Hannah’s throat. God knew her needs. She’d asked. Now she had to have faith.

She rested her head against the sofa cushion, allowing the prayer to give her strength. Time ticked past, and finally she rose again, knowing that Claire would arrive soon.

She returned to the kitchen and opened her phone directory. This time with courage, she punched in Sam Currey’s telephone number. One ring. Two. Three. Then, Sam’s rough voice came across the wire,

Hannah caught her breath. “I’m looking for Jack,” she said without identifying herself, trying to sound calm.

“You and everyone,” Sam muttered.

Everyone? “This is Hannah, Sam. I—”

“I don’t know nothin’.” He dropped the receiver and disconnected.

A lump rose to Hannah’s throat, and she bit her lip
trying to decide what to do. She’d prayed that the Lord give her strength, so why would she falter now with God on her side? She drew in a breath, calming her rattled nerves, then pressed redial.

When the phone connected and she spoke, Sam’s irate voice flew through the line.

“Sam, please listen,” Hannah said.

“What’s wrong? You don’t understand English?”

“Jack abducted JJ, and I’m afraid—”

“JJ’s his kid. He has every right. Quit bothering me. You and the police. Don’t call again.”

Hannah’s head resounded when Sam slammed the phone in her ear. She stared at the receiver, then hung up and pressed her face in her hands. “Think. Think.”

“T
hanks,” Andrew said, shaking hands with church members. “We appreciate your prayers.”

Hannah stayed close to his side, her eyes wide, as people she knew and those she didn’t know came by to offer their thoughts and prayers.

“Have you heard anything?” Jemma asked, hurrying toward them with her two children in tow. Philip wasn’t far behind her.

“Nothing,” Hannah said. “I’m sick. It’s been a week. I’ve heard nothing. He’s trying to scare me. That’s how he does things.”

A frown marred Jemma’s smooth forehead. “I can’t even fathom how someone could be like Jack.”

Philip’s eyes filled with sympathy. “The man is a maniac, but he’s not alone. We’ve all heard of parents kidnapping their children.”

He and Jemma shook their heads as if not knowing what else to say until Jemma leaned over and kissed Hannah’s cheek. Andrew’s heart lifted at the love he saw in his brother’s and Jemma’s faces.

“Thanks,” Andrew said. “I’m working for a while this afternoon, but I’m going to Hannah’s later, and I’ll call if we learn anything new.”

As they moved off, Andrew took Hannah’s hand, moving toward the door. He saw so many people eyeing her, giving a nervous wave as if they wanted to say something but didn’t have the words. Today the gossip had subsided and the looks were different. Today everyone’s eyes were full of compassion. Andrew knew in a small town word got around, and most everyone knew of Hannah’s plight.

A woman Andrew had never met sidled up to them and laid her hand on Hannah’s. “I’m so sorry about your son, and now you have the little one coming. I wish we had known that…” Andrew saw her glance at him with the look of humility. “You’ve been so wonderful to support Hannah. We didn’t know that…” Her voice trailed off as if she had no idea how to put her thought into words, no idea how to apologize for her earlier accusations about Hannah’s pregnancy.

“Thanks,” Andrew said, pleased at least that she’d admitted her fault.

“Jenni must have been at work,” Hannah whispered. “I’m sure she spoke her mind to some of the gossips.”

Andrew squeezed her hand. “People aren’t all bad. They just latch on to something that goes against their morals, and they can’t let go. Naturally they assumed—” He didn’t need to finish the sentence. He and Hannah both knew what some people had assumed.

“I’m not going to hold grudges,” Hannah said. “I just thank God for their prayers.”

Andrew clutched her arm until they reached the outdoors. “I have to work for a while today. You know that.”

“I’ll be okay. Jenni said she’d drop by, and I’m sure Claire will visit, too. She was wonderful again last night. She was so supportive and prayed with me. This past week has been so difficult.”

“I know. I wish I could make it go away.”

“But you can’t.” Hannah patted his arm. “You’ve been here for me in every way.”

“Please take it easy today. You’ve been under too much stress, and the baby’s due in another six weeks.”

“It’s hard to take it easy when I’m losing my mind.” She squeezed his hand. “Thinking isn’t hard. I’ll do that. I need time to weigh what we talked about on the way to church this morning.”

Andrew slipped his arm around her shoulder. “You mean where Jack might have gone with JJ?”

She nodded. “I’m praying there’s someplace he’s mentioned—some location that would be a possible hideout. I sense he’s nearby since he wants me back. He won’t go too far away.”

“Let’s hope the police have a lead. We’ll call when we get home, or maybe there’ll be a message.”

They hurried across the parking lot, their feet crunching the dried leaves drifting from the oaks and maples. Autumn. Winter. The thoughts rolled through Andrew’s mind again. An ending and a new beginning. This horrible time had to end soon, and he and Hannah, God willing, would have their new beginning.

JJ’s image shot into his mind and the new baby on the way. God could move mountains. The Lord could raise the dead and count hairs on heads.
Heavenly Father, you know where JJ is. Please help us. Hannah deserves a good life, one without sorrow and fear. Please give her that. I love her more with each beat of my heart.

Andrew’s chest nearly burst with pride as he gazed at Hannah walking by his side. Her brown curls glistened with red in the morning sun, and Hannah’s pale skin set off her hazel eyes flecked with gold. His gaze traveled to her rounded belly, and he longed to kiss the bulge that was baby. Hannah’s baby.
Their
baby. Andrew gave no credence to the sick man who would harm Hannah.
He
would be the father, not in blood, but in love.

Hannah hung up the phone, her second call to the police since Andrew had left. “They’ve still heard nothing,” she said. She looked at Jenni’s tense expression and knew she was also stressed. “The detective said JJ’s photograph is everywhere. They’re looking, but Jack’s vanished.”

“They’ll find him,” Jenni said.

“But it’s been a week. I figured they’d find Jack right away if he went home or from his license number. Jenni, he’s lugging my son around, and I know JJ doesn’t want to be with him. He’s afraid. I’m so distressed.”

“Someone will recognize him, Hannah.”

“They’ve even put a tracer on my phone, but nothing. Why is he doing this to JJ? He’s just a little boy.”

“He wants you, Jenni. It’s the only way he knows how to get to you.”

“He hates me that much?”

“No, he wants to control you that much.”

A ragged sob tore from Hannah’s throat. “I want to do something.” She slapped the kitchen counter, and the sting resonated in her palm.

Jenni rose from her chair and knelt at Hannah’s feet. “I know you’ve prayed, but let’s pray together.”

Hannah bowed her head as Jenni asked the Lord to lead the authorities to her child. “And give Hannah
strength, Lord. Give her courage, and if it’s Your will, give her a clue, something that will help the police locate Jack and JJ. Amen.”

Hannah echoed her amen and lifted her head. “Thanks, Jenni. You’ve been a dear friend. Everyone’s been kind. Claire came to visit after Andrew dropped me off from church and then Annie called. You’ve all been so wonderful.”

“No thanks necessary. You’d be praying for me if I was in your shoes.”

Hannah released a lengthy sigh.

Jenni frowned and stood with her. “Are you okay?”

“Just tired. Weary. Miserable. I can hardly bear the tension. I try to convince myself JJ will be fine. Then I think of Jack’s unstable behavior, and I don’t know. I need to think. Somewhere in my memory I must know something that will give me an idea.”

“Hannah, don’t stress yourself. I’m going to go and you should take a nap. Rest. The baby’s due soon, and this is a difficult time.”

“You should know. Look at you.” She followed Jenni into the kitchen.

Jenni grinned rubbing her hand across her protruding belly. “We make great bookends.”

Hannah laughed for the first time in days.

Jenni walked to her side, embraced her and kissed her cheek. “Now, listen to me. Rest. I’ll talk to you later.” She turned, gave a wave and headed for the door.

Hannah closed the door and stood a moment, as her thoughts spun. The same question battered her mind— Where had Jack taken JJ? Her call to Sam had been more than disappointing. She knew no one else to call. Nothing.

The telephone pierced the silence, and Hannah jumped at the sound. She hurried across the room to answer it, and her heart stopped when she heard his voice.

“Where are you, Jack? What do you want?”

“You know what I want. I’ve given you a week to take my offer. Call off the bloodhounds and be my wife or I’ll take JJ so far away you’ll never see him.”

“You don’t want me, Jack. You just want someone to batter around.” The words flew out before she could stop them. JJ. She feared for her child. “Is JJ okay?”

“For now.”

For now.
No. He couldn’t mean it, but she didn’t want to challenge him. He was trying to frighten her. “Listen to reason, Jack. Please get on with your life, and let me get on with mine. It’s too late for us, but you can start again. You have women falling all over you. You don’t need me.”

“But I want you, Hannah.”

No. No. He didn’t want her. He wanted… Andrew’s offer dropped into her mind. Money. Would that sway him? “Jack, do you want money? I could borrow some money so you can go away. How much do you want? Give me JJ, and I’ll give you what I can.” It was useless. He’d never give up. Why had she mentioned it?

“So, the rich boyfriend wants to pay me off. That’s too easy, Hannah. You’d have JJ and your boyfriend, and what would I have?”

“Money to…” The words ran dry. She already knew money wouldn’t stop him. He wanted to make her suffer.

“I’m hanging up. This is your last chance to make a decision. If you want to see JJ again, you’re going to have to prove to me that you’ve called off the police and you’re willing to be my wife. What happens next rests
on your shoulders. I’ll call you very soon, but next time, I want an answer.”

The phone slammed in her ears.

Her knees buckled as she sank into a chair. She clung to the resounding silence, turning his words over in her mind. What happened next rested on her shoulders.

JJ. Where would Jack hide him? Since he needed money and wanted Hannah, he would probably hide somewhere close. She sat a moment to get control of her nerves, then returned to the telephone. She had pinned the detective’s phone number beside it, and she punched it in. When the detective picked up, she told him about Jack’s call, then hung up and leaned against the wall, praying they could trace it.

She tried to picture where Jack might be. Her head pounded with a growing headache. Think. Her thoughts rolled. Picture where Jack… Picture. Her heart lurched.

Photograph albums. Early in their relationship she’d taken pictures of Jack and later of Jack and JJ. She sped to her bedroom, reached to the top closet shelf and pulled down the book of snapshots. She’d wanted to tear up every picture of Jack, but she’d kept them for JJ. Though Jack hadn’t been a good father, the boy deserved to have photographs of him.

As she turned toward the living room, the phone rang again. Anxiety mounted as she hurried to lift the receiver, but disappointment flooded her as she listened to the detective.

“But I don’t understand. Why can’t you trace the call?”

“He used a cell phone. They’re harder to trace. The signal comes from the nearest base station tower. That leaves too much area to cover. I’m sorry.”

“So am I.” Sarcasm knotted her voice.

“We’ll find him. The bulletin is out. Sometimes it takes two or three weeks. You have to let us do our job.”

And sometimes it takes forever. She thanked him and hung up, frustrated and discouraged. Let them do their job? But what if they couldn’t? She knew finding Jack wouldn’t be easy, but they had all the technical skills. Why couldn’t they trace the call? Why couldn’t they find JJ?

Her heart heavy, she carried the album into the living room, sank onto the sofa, and opened the cover. Their few wedding snapshots turned her stomach. Jack had gotten drunk, and he’d been rough with her that night.

Next she flipped past a group of his friends at a bowling alley, a New Year’s Eve party when Jack had been drunk again. She turned the page, and tears welled in her eyes. JJ as a newborn. She ran her index finger over his tiny face, his eyes closed, his diminutive fingers curled into his palm.

Brushing away the tears, Hannah paused to calm herself. Think. She turned the page. Jack with a rifle. Jack and a buddy standing by a felled deer. A cabin in the woods—his friends. The photos jarred her thoughts. She hadn’t taken the pictures, but someone had, and she’d put them in the album. Where had that been? Not far, she recalled. Private property just off the National Forest. He’d taken her there once, wanting to price out property to buy. She’d gone along knowing he couldn’t afford it.

Where had it been? She closed her eyes, trying to picture the day they’d driven there. It had been near a little town with an unusual name. A long shot, but that’s the only thought that came to her. She slid the album onto the sofa and headed for the kitchen. From her junk drawer, she pulled out a map of Michigan.

After spreading the map on the kitchen table, Hannah sat and stared at it. It had been north of Loving. They’d passed Hoffmaster State Park. She moved her finger to the Manistee National Forest. It had been south of there, she remembered. Her gaze followed State Highway 37 and the town of White Cloud. They’d stopped there for gas, then made a turn. She scanned the map right, then left.

Hannah’s pulse escalated. Jugville. That was it. That was the town with the funny name. Jack had said it had probably been named after moonshine bootleggers.

She eyed the clock. Four. Andrew would be off work in another hour, but she couldn’t wait. She needed a good hour to get there, and night fell earlier in late October. If she wanted to find the cabin, she needed light.

Call the police, her logic told her, but she knew her vague remembrance would get them nowhere. The police were too busy for wild-goose chases. But if she located the cabin, if she found Jack and JJ there, then they would believe her and help her.

Hannah darted into her bedroom, slipped on sturdy shoes and a jacket over her knit top. Her hands trembled as she pulled her car keys from her shoulder bag, looked inside for the cell phone—that she so rarely used—then slung her bag over her shoulder.

Outside the apartment, she locked her door, then hurried to her car. The sun had already lowered in the sky, and she couldn’t waste time. She slid into her car, started the ignition, and pulled out to the street.

Hannah kept watch on her speedometer as she drove through Grand Haven and Ferrysburg. When she approached Muskegon Heights, she watched for the highway sign and made a left. This route was the quickest route to Highway 37 that she knew.

Andrew slid into her thoughts. Today she needed his strength and confidence, but he wouldn’t have allowed her to go. She knew that. She pressed her hand against the child in her belly. The baby rolled and kicked, so full of precious life.