Where She Belongs (33 page)

“
I Was a Male War Bride
.”

“You were?” she teased.

“Ha-ha.”

“It's the perfect choice.”

“Before we watch the movie, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

He reached for her hand. “Where's your wedding ring?”

Warmth crept up her cheeks. “In my jewelry box. I thought it was time.”

“I agree.” He drew her close and clasped his hands behind her waist. “Does this mean you'll stay? Let me help you fight the lawsuit?”

“I love this place.” She rested her hands on his muscular biceps. “But it's not what I love most. Nor was it the most important legacy my grandparents left me.”

“What was?”

“How much they loved each other. And how much they trusted their lives to God's plan for them.”

“What Sully didn't do. Or my dad.”

“You have their name, Mr. Fourth.” Standing on tiptoe, she kissed the corner of his mouth. “But you're not them.”

“I don't want to lose you, Shelby. Please don't go overseas.”

“I won't. I can't.” She smiled warmly. “My constant is right here.”

“Your constant?”

“You.” She stepped away and hooked her arm in his. “Let me tell you about the favor my dad did for Paul Norris.”

AJ plopped onto the blanket beside Shelby as the girls waded in the creek with Lila. “Has it been a good Fourth of July so far?”

“A picnic at one of my favorite places. The promise of fireworks this evening.” An adorable smile lit her face as she nodded slowly. “I'd say it's perfect.”

“Great.” He tugged at a blade of grass and chewed on the end. “I need your permission to do something.”

“Name it.”

“I know your initials are already on the 'gagement tree with Jason's. What about joining them to mine?”

Her eyes grew round. “Are you . . . ?”

He stood, then reached down and pulled her to her feet. Digging in his pocket, he pulled out a jeweler's box, then knelt on one knee. Shelby covered her mouth as he took her hand.

“I love you, Shelby, more than I can put into words. And I love your girls as if they were my own. I promise to follow in your grandparents' footsteps, to honor their legacy of devotion.” Swallowing the lump in his throat, he smiled. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “A million times yes.”

He slipped the diamond on her finger and stood.

“It's beautiful,” she said, tears welling in her eyes as he kissed her. “I love you. So much I love you.”

“Two souls. One heart.”

“My hero.”

S
helby stood between AJ and Dr. Wayne Kessler next to the chain-link fence surrounding the excavation area. While clearing out the barn, Nate Jeffers had found an old tack room with a solid wood floor. After removing the walls, Nate pried up the floor and found another floor underneath.

One with a trap door.

“What do you think, Kess?” AJ asked.

The professor tugged at his graying moustache. “It's an amazing find. Thank you for allowing me to be part of it.”

After investigating the secret room beneath the study and the hunting cabin by the creek, the professor had put together a special archaeological team. A couple of weeks ago, they had found a tunnel entrance beneath the cabin's foundation.

Today, they were systematically sifting through the earth and debris beneath the barn's trapdoor.

“Consider it payback for teaching me how much fun history can be.”

Kess chuckled. “You were a good student, AJ. And still one of my favorites.”

AJ beamed as he bumped Shelby with his elbow. “Hear that? One of his favorites.”

Shelby returned the bump. “My very favorite,” she whispered.

In the weeks since his proposal, AJ had been the constant she'd dreamed of, the shining knight she knew him to be. He'd stood beside her, a strong and comforting presence, during Uncle Richard's funeral. On the day Nate pulled down the first wall on the barn, AJ planned a trip to the zoo to get them away from the farm.

And he let Lila spend every night with Elizabeth.

“Perhaps this is a second tunnel,” Kess mused. “Is it even possible it could connect with the cabin?”

“Grandpa said it did, but I don't really know.”

“Given time, we should uncover the answer. Where was the next stop on the Station?”

“My family provided clean clothes. Hot food.” Shelby shrugged. “When it was safe, I think the travelers went back to the creek and headed farther north.”

“Another mystery for us to solve.” He pulled an old-fashioned silver watch from his pocket. “But for now I need to be going. You'll let me know about the sign?”

“I still can't believe this is happening.”

“Believe it, Shelby,” he said as she and AJ walked him to his Buick. “If all goes as planned, Misty Willow will be a premier research center and museum in another year or two.”

“You're not worried about the lawsuit?”

“Once the property is listed on the state's historical registry, it will be protected.” He opened his car door and gave her a reassuring smile. “Now don't forget to let me know what you decide.”

“Later today, okay? I want to show AJ the designs.”

“Just give my office a call.” He slid into his Buick, waved, and drove down the lane.

“What designs?” AJ asked as they sauntered toward the house.

“Before you got here, Kess gave me a folder of mock-ups for a sign to put in front of the house.” She clasped his hand. “The Lassiter Family Underground Railroad and Civil War Research Center.”

He gave a low whistle. “Pretty impressive.”

“They're on the kitchen table. You need to help me choose one.”

“Glad to help.”

“Your darling professor also told me something rather remarkable.”

“What was that?”

“An anonymous donor gave a million dollars to the project.” Shelby stopped in her tracks and tugged on AJ's hand so he faced her. “It was you, wasn't it?”

“A million dollars?” His teasing grin tugged at her heart. “Nope, I didn't give a million.”

“How much
did
you give?”

“Five hundred thousand. In memory of Gran.”

“Who gave the other half?”

“Brett. In memory of Gran.”

“You're kidding me.”

“He really did. His way of apologizing.”

“Neither of you should have done it.” She reached up and gave him a lingering kiss. “But I'm glad you did.”

“It's a worthy project.” Hand in hand, they followed the loop around the oval to the patio. “Besides, my students can come here for a field trip into the past. Maybe help with the museum.”

“I'm still flabbergasted about that tunnel beneath the barn. I got a note from Dad, and he didn't know about it either. Which makes me wonder if Grandpa even knew.”

“We'll never know which Lassiter forgot to pass that secret along to future generations,” AJ said. “But look at the legacy you're giving to your children. To the entire state.”

“Kess said the donation will fund a nonprofit foundation that will take over the restoration of the house. I get to be on the board. And he thinks we should make the secret room more accessible and rebuild the hunting cabin.”

“Does that
we
mean you and me?”

“Technically, the farm still belongs to you. Besides, even though
it's my grandparents' name on the sign, this will be our legacy. Yours and mine. If you agree.”

“What about the 'gagement tree?”

“He wants it too, but I think we can negotiate picnic and fishing rights to Lassiters and Sullivans in perpetuity.”

AJ chuckled and drew her into a casual embrace at the top of the patio steps. “We'll have lots more picnics there, but I doubt any will be as memorable as that first one.”

“You mean the one you crashed?”

“I mean the one where I rescued you from the storm.”

“Someday I'll pay you back by rescuing you from something,” she teased.

“You already have.” He lifted her chin, his eyes dark and intense beneath the brim of his ball cap. “You rescued me from my past. And gave me a future I can't wait to explore. With you.”

Despite the August sun beating down on them with its fiery rays, Shelby relished the warmth of AJ's body against hers, the saltiness of his sweat-moistened lips that demanded her willing response.

The honeymoon couldn't come too soon.

As Elizabeth and Tabby crashed through the screen door, followed closely by Jillian and Lila, Shelby broke from the embrace.

“Guess I better get used to this,” AJ whispered before grabbing Tabby and swinging her around.

“More. More,” Tabby squealed.

“Me too,” shouted Elizabeth.

Shelby and Jillian stood on the patio while AJ chased the girls into the oval and around the oak trees. Lila scampered after them, her gleeful barks echoing through the summer air.

“This has been the best summer.” A wistful expression flitted across Jillian's face. “I'll never forget these days.”

“We're going to miss you.” Shelby gave her a quick sideways hug. “I wish you weren't going so far away to college.”

“Sometimes I wish that too. But it's too good of an opportunity to pass up.”

“At least you'll be back for the wedding. My prettiest bridesmaid.”

“Your only bridesmaid,” Jillian said pointedly. “Cassie is matron of honor. She doesn't count.”

Shelby chuckled then focused on her fiancé as he gently roughhoused with her daughters. Soon to be his daughters too.

Her gaze wandered to the variety of flowers waving their colorful blooms against the fence, the old flower-laden wheelbarrow, the newly formed stone circle. She had moved here searching for the place she belonged only to learn that she didn't belong to a place at all.

She belonged to people. To her close friends, Cassie and Jason. To her near neighbors, Paul and Renee. To Jillian.

And most of all, to AJ.

The man she came here wanting to hate had reopened her heart to the most intense, head-over-heels, amazing love.

A future with AJ Sullivan wasn't at all what Shelby had expected when she moved her girls here from Chicago. But after a few short weeks, she couldn't envision a future without him.

Two souls. One heart.

God had most definitely set her feet in an exceptionally spacious place.

L
ATE
A
UGUST

Blue light, the muted shade of a twilight sky, shone through the rectangular panes of the brick building's ninth story window. Last night, the light had been yellow. The day before, red.

Brett Somers pressed his hand against his heart. But he couldn't ease the unbearable pain that threatened to break him in two.

I'd give everything
I own if he would only open his eyes.

Not even the scars of his own childhood had engulfed him like this. He hadn't known such pain was possible.

As the skies darkened with the promise of rain, the random colors became more vivid, more numerous. Beneath the gathering clouds, the lighted panes created a brilliant kaleidoscope of hope.

The children on the other side of the windows controlled the color of their ambient night-lights.

Unless, like the boy in room 927, they were in a coma.

Brett leaned against his Lexus and forced a smile as footsteps ambled toward him. Finally.

“How is he?”

“No change, man.” A mass of curly red hair framed Aaron Wiley's round Santa Claus cheeks. Come Christmas, he'd don a white wig and beard for the young patients whose vital signs he monitored.

“He just lies there, sound asleep.”

Brett swallowed the sigh building up in his throat. “The accident was weeks ago.”

“Head traumas take time to heal.”

“What about Meghan?”

“She seems to be doing better now that she's not spending
twenty-four hours in this place. More rested. I overheard her talking about a church giving her an apartment, no charge.” Humor twinkled in Aaron's gentle eyes. “Don't suppose you had anything to do with that?”

“She was going to end up in a bed next to him if she didn't . . .”

“Take care of herself?”

Brett shifted uncomfortably. He wouldn't have to resort to these cloak-and-dagger tactics if Meghan wasn't so stubborn. So unforgiving.

Not that he hadn't given her a good reason to despise him.

He pushed away from the car and retrieved a colorful gift bag illustrated with zoo animals and balloons from the backseat. “Tomorrow's his eighth birthday. I want you to give him this.”

Despite the blue and yellow tissue paper sprouting from the top, Aaron peered inside. “What did you get him?”

“It's not from me.”

“'Course it isn't.”

“Come up with something, okay? There's got to be a group or some kind of foundation that donates toys to these children.”

“Several.” Like the big kid he was, Aaron slightly shook the bag as if trying to get a hint of what was inside. “They donate books. Hand-carved wooden toys. Stuffed animals.”

“That works. It's a stuffed monkey. With an MP3 player inside.”

“Good choice.”

“Wearing an Ohio State football jersey.”

Aaron grinned. “Even better.” He held out his closed fist, and Brett obliged him with a friendly bump.

Brett's smile quickly faded. A rain-tinged breeze swept along the quiet street, and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his khakis. “She can't know it came from me. I'm depending on you, Aaron.”

“I'm always here for you, man. You know that.” A rare frown pulled at his mouth. “But I can't do this anymore.”

Brett closed his eyes and bowed his head. The words he'd been dreading settled like a boulder in his gut.

With anyone else, he'd pile on the charm. Or the pressure.

But Aaron wouldn't succumb to either. The certified nursing assistant risked his job every time he gave Brett an update. Even if the update never changed.

Brett stared toward the ninth floor window. “I understand.”

“You should just talk to her, man.”

“I've tried.” He shook his head. “She hates me.”

“Not used to that, are you?”

“No, Aaron. I'm not.”

“Tell you what.” The Santa Claus twinkle returned to Aaron's eyes, and his voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. “When he wakes up, I'll make sure you know it.”

A sliver of hope slipped past the boulder. “I'd appreciate it.”

“I better go, man. My shift's about to start.” Aaron's characteristic smile beamed as he cradled the gift bag. “Don't worry, she'll never know this came from you.”

Brett nodded his thanks, and Aaron sauntered toward the hospital.

Suddenly light-headed, Brett bent over the hood of the Lexus, his hands pushing against the black frame.

If only he'd known . . .

He sucked in air, then exhaled.

If he'd known, he wouldn't have cared.

Not back then. Not when it mattered.

The camera shutter clicked multiple times in quick succession, then Dani Prescott slouched against the medical building across the street from the hospital. By the sun's fading light, made dimmer by the rain-heavy clouds, she checked the Canon Rebel's digital display. The images of two men, a handsome blond and an unruly carrot top, appeared in the square screen. In the final image, the Adonis stood alone, his chin lowered.

As Dani looked up from the display, he interlaced his hands
behind his head. She caught a momentary glimpse of his pained expression as he lifted his eyes to the heavens.

Compassion stirred her heart, but it lasted only a single beat. Taking a few steps forward, she lifted the camera and took another quick succession of shots, though she wasn't sure why. She didn't need more photos of the guy.

Waiting for him to emerge from his office building then tailing him seemed like a good idea a few hours ago. The thrill of playing detective and all that.

But the reality had been mostly boring. And puzzling.

He'd stayed later at his office than she expected considering it was a Friday night. When he had finally emerged from the parking garage's elevator, she'd expected him to drive to a restaurant or to pick up a date. By then it was past six-thirty, and she couldn't wait to snap furtive photos of him out on the town with some Barbie bimbo as shallow as she knew him to be.

But hanging around a children's hospital? Why?

A blaring siren broke the brooding peace of the lonely street. Dani pivoted, and her stomach clenched as an ambulance sped her way. She blinked, and her breathing accelerated as if racing the siren's crescendo.

Gripping her stomach with her free hand, she concentrated on deep inhales and exhales. This emergency had nothing to do with her. Nothing.

The ambulance came nearer, then turned and followed the curving drive around to the ER.

“Are you okay?”

Dani spun toward the voice and gazed into the most attractive blue eyes she'd ever seen. A faint smile creased the man's gorgeous face, revealing deep dimples.

Busted
.

Her surveillance plan for learning more about Brett Somers's personal life hadn't included actually speaking to the guy. Heat crept up her neck and warmed her cheeks.

“I didn't mean to scare you.” The smile disappeared. “You look a little pale.”

Her voice stuck in her throat. Good-looking and self-assured, he was just the kind of man who made her stammer and trip over her own feet. The kind of man who looked right through her or only noticed her because she'd done something clumsy or stupid.

Like secretly taking pictures of him.

“Are you going to be sick?”

“Fine,” she blurted, flushing again at the squeak in her voice. She cleared her throat. “I'm fine. I just don't like ambulances.”

“Who does?”

She followed his glance toward the hospital. An assortment of bright colors shone through the windows.

“Taking photos of the lights?”

“Um, yes.” She nodded in support of the lie and forced a smile.

“Can I see?”

“No!”

He appeared taken aback by the force of her objection but only for an instant. Holding out his hand, he smiled. “Please.”

Her knees turned to jelly when his dimples reappeared. He obviously expected her to succumb to his charms. Most women probably did.

But no way could she show him the images she'd taken. He'd think she was a stalker.

Who was she kidding? She
was
a stalker.

Though for a very good reason.

“I'd really like to see them.”

She couldn't let him know how much he intimidated her. If only she could be as poised and self-confident as her favorite classic movie actress. No matter the circumstances, Audrey Hepburn always said and did the right thing.

Of course, Audrey had a scriptwriter.

Dani wished she had one too. With a quiet sigh, she straightened
her shoulders and carefully placed the camera in its bag. “The pictures are personal.”

He dropped his hand. “Which window?”

“Excuse me?”

“Which window is yours?”

She crinkled her eyes in confusion. “None of them.”

“You don't have someone here? A sick child you're worried about?”

“No.”

“So you take hospital photos for the fun of it?” His gaze bored into hers, and a hint of suspicion weighted his words. “Strange hobby.”

Dani silently agreed. If that were the truth, it would be. She needed to distract him. Maybe a conversation wasn't such a bad thing after all.

“Which window is yours?” She tried to sound nonchalant but didn't think she'd quite succeeded. Small talk with handsome men never had been her forte.

The brilliancy of his light blue eyes faded, and he carelessly shrugged. “Just looking at the lights.”

So he could lie too.

From her research, she knew he'd never been married. Since the death of his grandmother a few months ago, his only family members were a sister and a cousin, both single as far as Dani knew.

So there should be no children in Brett's life.

Or maybe he was telling the truth, and the present he had given the other man wasn't for a patient but for someone on the hospital staff. Perhaps he was playing secret admirer.

The image of his earlier pained expression appeared before her as clearly as if she were staring at a printed photograph. His secret didn't have anything to do with romance. She gazed at the colored lights. Behind one of those windows was a child he cared about.

A mystery.

What would Audrey do?

Feeling his eyes upon her, she met his gaze and awkwardly smiled.

“I'm Brett Somers.”

I know
.

“And you are?”

Dani's eyes shifted, and she stared at the tan toes of her canvas shoes. He wasn't supposed to know her name. At least not yet. Her mind flashed to the classic movie she'd watched last night.

“Regina Lampert.” The lie surprised and emboldened her. Suddenly tickled by her audacity, she grinned.

He arched an eyebrow. “Regina Lampert?”

She nodded.

“As in
Charade
? Audrey Hepburn's character?”

Busted again.

“You know that movie?”

“Why wouldn't I?”

She mimicked his earlier casual shrug. “You just don't seem the type.”

“What type?”

“The type to know about old movies.”

His eyes crinkled in amusement. “What type am I, ‘Regina Lampert'?”

“I don't know.”
Careful, Dani. He can't suspect you already
know anything about him.
“The never-alone-on-a-Friday-night type. The let's-fly-to-New-York-in-five-minutes type.”

“I never fly, and New York doesn't interest me.” The amusement eased into a broad grin, and he spread his hands. “And I'm all alone here.”

She nervously twisted the camera bag's strap. “So how do you know so much about Audrey Hepburn?”

“My grandmother was a huge Cary Grant fan. I watched
Charade
with her several times. You?”

She lifted one shoulder and bit her lip. “Too many Friday nights alone, I guess.”

“Pretty girl like you?”

Immediate heat burned her face, and a strange deprecating sound escaped her lips.

“How many stars would you give
Notorious
?”

“Cary Grant and Ingrid Bergman's
Notorious
? I love it.”

“It's playing at the Ohio Theater. Part of their summer classic series.” He checked his watch. “We've got about fifteen minutes.”

“Fifteen minutes?”

“Before the movie starts.” He flashed that knee-weakening smile again. “I know we've just met, but I promise I'm a respectable businessman. Successful too. I own a thriving property development company. And my cousin is engaged to the daughter of missionaries. We used to not-date, so she can tell you what a gentleman I am.”

Dani's head spun as she tried to keep up with his chatter.

He pulled out his cell and flicked the display. “Should I call her?”

As if it had a mind of its own, her hand shot out and covered the phone's screen to stop him. “You don't need to do that.” Her fingers lingered against the warmth of his skin. She drew away and took a step backward. This could not be happening.