Reflecting Love's Charms (Bellingwood Book 14) (21 page)

He stormed back through the media room into his office and when his feet hit the back stairs, Polly shot a panicked look to Marie and ran after him. She caught up to him as he put his hand on the door leading into the garage and hesitantly reached out to touch his shoulder.

"What?" he snapped, turning on her.

"Henry..."

Before she could say anything more, he brushed her hand away and pulled the door open, walking out into the darkness of the garage. "Don't try to make this better," he growled.

With light coming from the store room, she stepped around her truck and stood in front of him. "Okay. It's not better, but you're making it worse."

"I don't care. I can't bear it when everyone I love faces appalling horrors. The rest of you expect me to sit passively while a storm rages within me."

She reached out for him and he stepped back. "I can't," he said. "It's too much."

"But Henry, you have to."

He stopped and peered at her. "What?"

"You have to be our rock. Look at the family you have around you. I find dead bodies and get myself into situations any sane person would run from. It's not like I want to be there, but that's what happens. Heath lost his parents, lived with a cruel aunt and uncle, tried to become a hoodlum and had to watch as a friend murdered two others. He feared for his life through all of that. Rebecca's mother died last year and she was only twelve. She is as gregarious and creative as anyone I've ever met and she loves with passion that I can't believe. With all that the three of us bring to this family, what is the one thing it needs?"

Henry reached for the hood of her truck and used it to hold himself up. "This isn't fair."

"Of course it's not." Polly stepped into his space and when he didn't pull away, put her arms around his waist and drew him close.

He released the truck and wrapped himself around her. "Sometimes it's too much."

"But only for a moment," she said. "We all know that you aren't passive. Nobody would accuse you of that. But we do know that you're strong and the depth of your love for us knows no bounds. That's why this family works. No matter what happens, you will love us and take care of us."

"It's a lot of responsibility."

Polly tilted her head up and brushed her nose across his chin, then waited for him to kiss her. He brought his hand up to the back of her head and put his lips on hers, crushing them with the intensity of that raging storm that frightened him so badly. Polly had never known him to be like this. The heart-melting, knee wobbling kisses that she anticipated paled in comparison, and she responded with all that she had.

When they separated, he looked at her, brought his thumb to her cheek and brushed away tears. "I made you cry?"

Since she was incapable of forming words, Polly kissed him again and they held each other.

"I'm sorry I got loud," he finally said.

"No one is upset about that."

He chuckled. "Really?"

"Okay, I was a little upset. But everyone understands and it's one of those things that makes me love you even more. You don't get angry very often, but when you do, it's important."

"Mom is going to have my head."

"No," Polly said with a smile. "She's raised two children. She knows what it's like to worry when you have no control over a situation. Do you want to go back upstairs or stay here?”

"How many more do you think will have left the apartment this time?" he asked.

"I'm afraid those who are left are staying the duration."

Henry took her hand and they walked to the back door. "I can't stand this waiting. My mind creates scenarios and images that are unspeakable."

"That's why I made cookies, why Hayden is making tomorrow's breakfast and why the kids play video games," Polly said. "Everyone finds their own way to blur their thoughts."

He took his hand off the door handle and led her out of the garage to the back yard. "I can't do it. I just can't do it. I can't sit quietly while my family stares at me, worried about how I'll react if something awful has happened to Rebecca."

"Then we walk," she said.

"Is it fair that we left the kids upstairs?"

Polly squeezed his fingers. "They have other people to take care of them right now. Don't worry."

Henry heaved an immense sigh and guided her down the lane toward the corner garden. They sat on the bench, listened to the bubbling of water, while Polly leaned against his shoulder. All she had to do was breathe.

Her phone rang and Polly jumped to her feet, taking it from her back pocket.

"It's Aaron," she whispered, swiping the call open.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

"Calm," Henry said before she answered it. "It’s going to be okay."

Polly looked at him and nodded. "Aaron?" she asked tentatively. "Do you have her?"

"Yes. Stu is taking her over to the office. Could you come down?"

Polly nodded to Henry, beckoned to him, and they walked out of the garden. "We're on our way. Is she okay?"

"She's not hurt badly, but she's pretty shaken up. It's been a rough night."

"What happened?" Polly asked.

"I'm sorry, Polly," he replied. "I need to take care of things here. We'll talk later. Come get your girl."

Polly slid her phone into her pocket and gave a little skip. "He says she's okay, Henry. We just have to go get her."

They arrived at his truck and Polly looked up at her apartment. "We should tell them that she's okay."

"I don't want to make her wait," he protested.

"I'll run up, grab a sweater for her and tell them we're heading out. They need to know."

He put his hands on the front of his truck and bent his head. "Go ahead. I just need to say a few things here."

"By yourself?"

"Yeah. I'm fine. Go on."

Polly ran in and up the steps, then in to the apartment. "She's okay. Aaron has her," she yelled.

Kayla jumped down from her stool, another cookie in her hand. "Is Stephanie okay?"

"I'm sure she is, honey," Polly said, realizing she hadn't even thought to ask.

Polly was surrounded by people and questions about Henry and Rebecca and Stephanie. "Stop," she said. "I need to go get her. Henry's waiting in the truck and I wanted to tell you, then grab a sweater for her."

"Do you want us to wait here?" Marie asked.

"That's fine," Polly replied. "If you don't want to wait, you'll see her at her party tomorrow."

Lydia touched Polly's arm. "You're still having it?"

"Absolutely. This time it will be a 'Welcome Home - Happy Birthday' thing."

When Polly came out of Rebecca's bedroom, she walked into a mild argument between Andrew and his mother.

"He wants to go with you," Sylvie said. "I told him we could wait here until you all get home."

"I want to go too," Kayla said.

Polly's mind swirled with the questions about what Henry would think, what Rebecca needed and how much she could handle. She glanced at Heath and Hayden; brothers who wanted nothing more than to be part of this family.

"Why don't you all stay here for now. I don't think we'll be that late. If it looks like it's going to take a long time, I'll text you." She looked at Sylvie. "And everyone can go home until tomorrow."

Sylvie put her hand on Andrew's shoulder and grabbed up Kayla's hand. "That's a good idea. Come on kids, let Polly go."

Polly darted over to Heath and gave him a quick hug. "I know you're worried," she whispered. "She's okay. We'll be back soon."

He gave her a small smile as she ran for the back steps and out to Henry's truck. He'd already turned it around, so as soon as she jumped in and belted up, they were off.

"Andrew and Kayla wanted to come with us," she said.

"I'm glad they didn't."

"I thought about it for a split second, but then I looked at Heath and there was just no way we were going to get everyone in the truck. If it isn't too late, they'll still be there when we get home."

"I couldn't have taken Andrew's chattering all the way down," Henry said. "Love that boy, but he doesn't know when to turn it off."

Polly smiled. "He's a good kid and I know this scared him."

"Can you blame him?" Henry asked. "He's known you longer than Rebecca and you've done some scary things. If people didn't know better, they'd think she was yours by birth with all the scrapes she gets herself into."

He turned into Boone and Polly looked at the homes as they drove past. People were doing what they did every Saturday night: lights turned off as they went to bed, televisions were playing, a couple was sitting on their front porch. Life was normal for them and they had no idea what had been going on in a little girl's life this evening. She remembered having the same thoughts when she'd gotten the call that Everett had died. No one else knew that inside, a girl who had just lost her last connection with home was silently screaming.

Polly remembered walking past a local bar. Young people were outside, while smoking cigarettes, laughing and talking. One young man was tapping out a beat on the brick wall of the building with a pair of drumsticks he'd produced as if by magic. They were living their lives and Polly felt like she was losing hers. If the world was so connected, how was it that she felt so alone at times?

"You're thinking awfully loud over there," Henry said, putting his hand on the console, palm up.

She took it in hers and gave it a squeeze. "Just thinking about how all of these people have no idea what's going on with us tonight. They're just doing their thing with no thought to the fact that a little girl was kidnapped and held hostage."

"I wouldn't want to know about all of the awful things that happen in some of those homes every night," Henry said. He turned right on Mamie Eisenhower Avenue.

He drove into the parking lot of the sheriff's office and they went inside. Polly was nearly sick to her stomach with excitement at seeing her daughter. Just as they were about to give their names to the front receptionist, Stu Decker walked through.

"There you are," he said. "She's been asking for you."

"Where's Stephanie?" Polly asked.

Stu took a deep breath. "Aaron didn't tell you?"

Polly looked at him in panic. "What didn't Aaron tell me? Is she okay? Did her father hurt her?"

"They've taken her to the hospital," Stu said. "Things didn't go quite as easily as Aaron planned. There was a fight."

"With Stephanie?" Polly stopped in front of Stu before he opened a door. "Tell me what's going on."

He nodded toward the room. "Rebecca will probably tell you everything. We don't have any word yet on Stephanie's condition. They were taking her into surgery..." He looked up at a clock on the wall. "About now. Let Rebecca tell you her story and if you have any more questions, I'll be close by. Okay?"

Polly glanced at Henry. This evening was never going to end. "We have to get Kayla down here," she said.

"Why don't we find out what's going on and then I'll call Mom or Hayden or somebody. But I want to see my girl."

Stu opened the door and Rebecca burst up out of a chair and leapt into Polly's arms. "I'm sorry!" she cried.

Polly held her and then Rebecca looked up at Henry. "I love you guys. I didn't know if I'd ever see you again."

He put his arms out and she threw herself at him, sobbing. Henry bent down, tucked his arm under her knees and cradled her in his arms as he walked to the sofa. Rebecca cried into his shoulder while Polly rubbed the girl's back.

Rebecca choked out a few more sobs and then sat up, collected herself and stood, rearranging her dress. "Sorry about that," she said. "I'm not a little girl."

"Yes you are, honey," Polly said. "At least to us you are. Can you tell us what happened tonight?"

"I don't even know where to start," Rebecca said. "I thought that after I told Mr. Decker everything I'd have it all straight in my head, but it's gone back to being a jumble. Did he tell you if Stephanie is okay? Nobody will say anything to me. I keep asking and asking."

"He said she's going into surgery. That's all we know," Henry said.

"Is someone bringing Kayla down?" Rebecca asked. "She should be at the hospital when Stephanie wakes up."

Polly and Henry exchanged a look and he stood up. "I'll call home." He held his index finger out. "But no talking until I'm back."

Rebecca flung herself at Polly again. "All I could think was that I hadn't hardly seen you at all these last few days and I was so sorry."

"It's all okay," Polly said. "Whether we're near or far, I know you love me. You know that too, right? Your whole family loves you. All the time. Even if we get mad and say rotten things to each other, it never changes how much love there is. Do you know that?"

"Kinda," Rebecca said. She pulled back. "Yes. I know that. I worked so hard to try to figure out how to get away from that man." She drew her eyes together and pursed her lips. "He was evil, Polly. His face was mean and he said bad things. I can't believe he's Kayla's dad. She's nothing like him."

Henry came back in. "Aaron already talked to Lydia and it sounds like everyone is meeting at the hospital. We should go over there." He waited for Rebecca to stand beside him. "Hayden and Heath can't wait to see you."

"Hayden?" Rebecca asked. Then her eyes grew big. "He came home because of..." She glanced at Polly. "I forgot all about that. We're still doing it, aren't we?"

"I already know about him making breakfast," Polly said.

Henry and Rebecca looked at each other and nodded.

"What?" Polly asked.

"Breakfast casserole. You got it. Happy Mother's Day," Henry said. "We're free to go. Come on."

When they got into the truck, Polly handed Rebecca her sweater and the beret she'd found earlier.

"I knew you'd find that," Rebecca said. When he got out of the car to grab me, I threw it."

"You did that for a clue?" Polly asked. "That was smart."

"I wanted you to know I had come that way." Rebecca sat forward. "I knew you'd think I had just gone somewhere else if you didn’t find me at home."

"Good for you. What did he say to get you in his car?"

Rebecca shook her head. "No. I would never get in a stranger's car. I thought he was just going to ask me for directions, but then he slid over and jumped out and grabbed me. He had a really ugly knife and told me he would be glad to cut me all the way up my belly if I screamed or made a scene."

Henry gripped the steering wheel, the veins on his hands popping up.

"Then what happened?" Polly asked, as calmly and quietly as she could.

"We came down here to Boone. He was staying in a hotel and told me that if I was quiet, he wouldn't hurt me. I didn't know what else to do. I thought it would be smart to just figure out all of my options and as long as he wasn't hurting me, I had time to find a way to escape."

"That's awfully pragmatic," Polly said.

"I told myself to think like you would."

Henry gave Polly a sideways glance and a quick shake of his head. She wasn't sure whether he was upset at that comment or proud. For the moment, she was going to just be proud.

He pulled into the parking lot at the hospital and they went inside and inquired about Stephanie Armstrong. Once they received directions, Rebecca stopped in front of a vending machine. "Do you have any money?" she asked. "I haven't had anything to eat since Sal’s shower."

Henry patted his pocket and sighed. "What do you want?" he asked. "I'll go pick something up." He looked at Polly. "I'm hungry too, I guess."

"None of us had anything to eat except those cookies I made," Polly said. "Are you sure you want to go out?"

"I'll pick up plenty. You go on," he said. Henry drew Rebecca into another hug. "I've been so worried about you today. I'm glad you're back. You'll have to forgive me if I never let you leave the house alone again."

"He's kidding, right?" Rebecca asked, taking Polly's hand as they walked toward the waiting room.

Polly chuckled. "I'm not sure. He was more upset today than I've ever seen him."

She pushed through the door and Jeff looked up. "Polly, you're here. I figured you'd take Rebecca straight home."

"I don't want to leave Stephanie," Rebecca said. "Not until I know she's okay." She turned to Polly. "It was her that saved me tonight. She was amazing."

Jeff nodded. "She
was
amazing. I was so proud of her."

"What happened?" Polly asked.

He glanced at Rebecca.

"We haven't had time yet," she said.

"You go, then."

"I'm going to have to keep telling this story until I get it straight," Rebecca said. "It's still a jumble."