Stutter Creek (23 page)

Idiot
, she chided herself mentally.
You’re alive. You’ve been given a second chance. Be thankful for that. It doesn’t have to be anything more—even if the superhero was the hunky friend you searched for all those years.
She actually sighed when that thought slipped into her mind.

Then she laid the rose aside and opened the envelope containing the card. The front of the card was a sunrise over mountains; it was hand drawn and painted with watercolors. Inside, the card was blank except for three lines of calligraphy:

The picnic basket is packed.

Get well soon.

Love, John and . . .

She turned the card over and laughed out loud. A huge paw print took up the entire blank space.

When she looked up from the card, he was standing in the doorway. “I’ve been watching you sleep,” he said. Then he held up the picnic basket. “I know it won’t be today,” he said. “But when you’re ready . . .”

Beth grinned. “You’ve got a date. But first, tell me about Allie and the boy.”

He sat down beside her on the bed and told her that Allie was expected to make a full recovery. Besides two cracked ribs and a broken cheekbone, the doctor suspected the concussion was her most serious injury and probably the reason she was still unconscious. They didn’t consider it life threatening, however.

“They found a list in the pocket of that guy’s jacket,” John said. “Allie’s name was #3 on the list.” He hesitated as if gauging her response. “Apparently the remains of victims #1 and #2 have been found in, or near, Pine River. There were two other names on that list after Allie’s.”

Beth’s face drained of color. She had almost convinced herself it had all been a bad dream; after all, she only had some minor cuts and abrasions. “Oh my God,” she said. “Was my name on the list?”

John shook his head. “The detective seems to think you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Nodding, she replied: “It all started when I saw the boy standing beside the road.”

“His name is Danny,” John said. Then he told her all the information Woody James had relayed about Danny’s abduction and his use as bait. “They’ve even located the boy’s maternal grandmother. Apparently she was in an abusive marriage with Danny’s grandfather at the time of his mother’s disappearance, but the old man is dead now, so they are thinking of placing Danny with her.”

“Will it be soon?” Beth asked.

“It’s still touch and go, but I’ve got faith that he will recover.” His face grew still. “I feel some connection to that boy. And I suppose it’s right for him to be reunited with what is left of his family.” A look of sadness passed quickly across his face and Beth was reminded of his own lonely upbringing. “But I wish I could take him home with me. I would protect him.” His chin was stuck out defiantly.

Beth remembered the young man who used to protect her from her own daredevil doings on Stutter Creek.

“I want to see him,” she said. “I want to see Allie, too. And Turk, my savior! When I heard him crashing through the brush, well, I knew I was going to be okay.” She ducked her head a bit because she didn’t trust herself to look John in the eye. She wasn’t sure what she might see there. Or what he might see in hers.

Laying his big hand over her smaller ones, he said: “Turk is not the only one who was crashing through that forest,” he said. “It would have killed me if we hadn’t arrived in time. I barely found you again . . .” He left the rest of the sentence bare, but Beth could fill in the blank. She felt the same way.

“Thank you,” she said looking her friend in the eye at last. “Thank you both.” Then she smiled and clasped his hand to her chest.

Weeks later they talked about how the man who had tried to kill her had died. John admitted that he might have known that the handcuff chain was cutting off his airway. “But I’m not exactly sure,” he said. “It was pretty intense tumbling down that mountain locked in a death roll with a madman.” He looked deeply into Beth’s eyes when he told her that. “Does that scare you?”

Beth thought for a moment. “No,” she admitted. “Maybe it should, hearing that you may have killed him knowingly . . . but I can tell you this,” she squared her shoulders. “I would have done it myself if I could.”

John’s shock showed on his face.

Beth held her breath. She wasn’t going to lie. She hated the man they now knew as Kurt Graham. He was a monster. He’d killed two women, perhaps three if his wife was his first victim as everyone suspected, and he’d tried to kill both her and Allie. But the thing that bothered her more than any other was the fact that he had used his own son to do it. She knew he would have killed Danny eventually. Or let him die, which was the same thing in her book.

After a moment, John pulled her onto his lap. They were sitting in his renovated cabin, watching the sunset through the picture window. “You have every right to say that,” he admitted. “And the fact that you’re brave enough to admit it, well, that’s one reason I never settled for any other woman.”

“I can’t wait until we hear if our foster parent application has been approved,” she said.

John smiled and stroked his beard, deep in thought. “Do you really think there’s a chance we will get to bring Danny home?”

Beth nodded. “I feel like it was meant to be,” she said. “Something good has to come out of this tragedy. And the caseworker told me just yesterday that the grandmother wants to meet us. She’s quite elderly, and she’s decided she might not be up to the task of caring for Danny for the next fifteen to twenty years. She actually seems to want what’s best for Danny.”

He reached over and took her hand; twisting the simple gold band he’d placed there a week earlier. “How will I ever explain to him that I’m the one who killed his father? Won’t that set us up for failure as a family?”

Beth shrugged. “You saved his life. He will understand that. I’m not saying it will be easy, but I know we have what it takes to give that boy the home he deserves. And once we’re approved as foster parents, and the grandmother gives her consent, then we can start adoption proceedings.” She took his face between her palms. “But I hope that isn’t the only reason you married me so quickly.”

John threw his head back and laughed. “Actually, I was going to tell you later . . . but the real reason is because . . . I’m pregnant.”

Then he kissed her, and she grinned, kissing him right back.

Turk whuffed softly and stuck his big head under her elbow.

“Yes,” she said, “I love you too.”

Meet the Author

Ann Swann is the author of
All For Love
, a contemporary love story also published by 5 Prince Publishing. She is also the author of
Stevie-girl and the Phantom Pilot, and Stevie-girl and the Phantom Student,
tales of the supernatural. Ann has also written numerous award winning short stories. She lives in West Texas with her husband and several rescue pets. She loves libraries and book stores and owns two different e-readers just for fun. Her to-be-read list has taken on a life of its own. She calls it Herman.

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