“I’m glad you’re staying until the end of the school year.”
Even if that meant Maggie would have to leave.
“Me, too. I like it here. So, since I’m staying, will you have dinner with me and my father next weekend?”
“I…” Can’t was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t say it without offering an excuse, and she didn’t have one. “I’d love to. As long as nothing comes up between now and then.”
Kane stopped in front of the old farmhouse, and Maggie opened the car door, shivering as cold wind slapped her cheeks. “I guess we’re here. Thanks for the ride.”
“I’ll walk you up.” Kane got out of the car and walked around to escort her.
“I’m fine, Kane. I think it’s best if you and Eli head back.”
“We will, but before I go, I wanted to let you know that there’s a hundred-thousand-dollar reward for information leading to Eli’s recovery. It’s yours.”
“What?”
“The money is yours. My lawyer will transfer the funds to your account—”
“No.”
“No?”
“I don’t want money. That’s not why I listened to Eli’s story about having a father in New York, and it’s not why I contacted the sheriff when I realized what he was saying might be true.” She fished the keys from her purse, opened the front door, stepped inside and flipped on the foyer light.
“That doesn’t mean the money isn’t yours,” he said, the light spilling over him, highlighting a face that belonged on a magazine cover. High cheek bones, a square jaw shadowed with stubble, lips that were full and firm. The wide brim of his hat threw shadows over eyes that were the same deep green as Eli’s. Was his hair red like his son’s?
“Look, I apprec—” Maggie’s words were cut off as lights flashed at the end of her driveway. Someone was coming, and she didn’t plan to stand in the doorway, waiting to find out who it was. “I need to go. Tell Eli I’ll see him at school.”
“Wait—”
But Maggie couldn’t afford to wait. Not when the headlights were moving closer and anyone with a good camera could get a picture of her standing in the threshold chatting with Kane.
She slammed the door and turned the lock, stepping deeper into the house, wishing she could believe that would be enough to keep her hidden from the world, to preserve the life she’d fought so hard for.
Please, God, don’t let it be a reporter, because I really don’t want to leave Deer Park. I really don’t want to have to start all over again.
She didn’t want to, but she would.
Because if a photo of her somehow ended up in the news, if Derrick saw it, he’d come after her. There was no doubt about that.
And there was absolutely no doubt about what he’d do if he found her.
TWO
Maggie Tennyson had slammed the door in his face. After everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours, Kane wasn’t sure why that bothered him, but it did. He was tempted to knock, see if she would open the door again. He had a few questions he’d like to ask her.
Like—why was she so afraid of being in the spotlight? Why was she unwilling to accept the reward? Why did seeing a car pull into her driveway make her bolt?
He was tempted, but he wouldn’t.
He had other things to worry about. Like reconnecting with his son.
Headlights splashed on the dirt driveway as Kane hurried back to the SUV he’d rented, and he eyed the approaching vehicle, wondering if it was possible that he had been followed from the hotel.
He might not understand Maggie’s desire to stay anonymous, but he wanted to respect it. If a reporter did approach, Kane had no intention of mentioning Maggie’s name or of explaining why he was at the property.
Of course, a good reporter would be able to find out who owned the farmhouse and might begin conjecturing about why Kane would bring Eli there.
To his relief, a tow truck pulled up beside the SUV and a gray-haired man got out. “Howdy. Maggie around?”
“She’s inside.”
“Glad to hear it. I nearly had a coronary when I got to her car and she wasn’t in it. Weather’s not good for taking a hike.”
“I gave her a lift.”
“Looks like her Ford isn’t damaged, so you can tell Maggie that she’s fine to drive it. Needs to put chains on the tires, though. Better yet, she should get new tires. Hers are looking threadbare, and that’s not good for driving in the winter around these parts,” he said almost absently as he unhooked the Ford.
“I’ll let her know.”
“Appreciate it. Tell her I’ll bill her, or she can just drop into the shop and pay when she’s got time.” He finished the job and turned to face Kane again, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of Eli peering out the window of the SUV. There was no doubt the driver recognized him. There probably wasn’t a person in Deer Park who wouldn’t have. Eli’s image had been plastered across the front page of the local newspaper and featured on local and national news.
Kane braced himself for the comments and questions, the well wishes and speculations that he’d been hearing since he had arrived in town late the previous night.
Instead, the driver smiled at Eli, offered Kane a brief nod, got into his truck and drove away.
Would he spread the word that Kane and Eli had been visiting Maggie?
For her sake, Kane hoped not.
“Let’s go give her the message, Dad.” Eli climbed out of the car, brushing against Kane as he started walking toward the old farmhouse Maggie had disappeared into.
Kane wanted to put a hand on his son’s shoulder, connect with him in that small way, but he knew what Eli would do. He’d stiffen, holding himself tense and tight until Kane backed off. He wouldn’t verbally protest the contact, but he wouldn’t relax into it, either.
Give it time.
That’s what the counselor who’d accompanied Kane to his first meeting with Eli had said. But Kane had already lost five years of his son’s life. In that time, the bubbly four-year-old had turned into an anxious, unhappy little boy. It was a reality Kane had expected. One he’d thought he’d prepared for.
But how did a father prepare to meet a child he hadn’t seen in five years? How did he reconcile memories with reality and balance his own need to connect with Eli’s need to hold back and wait things out?
Kane didn’t know, so he was simply going with the flow, taking it a minute at a time and praying he’d figure things out along the way.
He followed Eli up rickety porch steps and waited as he rang a doorbell that didn’t seem to work.
Maggie must have been watching from one of the narrow windows that bracketed the door. Old wood creaked as it swung open, and she hovered at the threshold, smiling at Eli. “I thought you two were heading back to town.”
Despite the smile, there was a nervousness about her, a tension in her muscles and her mouth that Kane didn’t miss.
“We have a message for you, Ms. Tennyson. We came to deliver it,” Eli replied in the overly formal way of his that Kane found both amusing and unsettling. Nine-year-old boys were supposed to be full of mischief and jokes.