Julianne missed Zach. She tried not to. She didn’t want to get more comfortable living on the Prom, but she didn’t seem to have any willpower, especially in his bed, where she felt at ease. Too at ease. Too safe.
She smoothed the comforter with her hands then glanced at the clock. As of three minutes ago, it was officially Christmas.
Where was he?
He’d said he would be home for Christmas. Would he? He had called only once since he left, and sounded distant. In fact, ever since the last time they made love he’d been distant, not totally avoiding her, but not attentive, either. He hadn’t made love to her again before he went away. What did that mean?
She jumped as the bedroom door opened, then she spotted Zach creeping in.
He’s home. Her heart sighed. “I’m awake,” she said, sitting up.
He came around the bed and sat, facing her. She slipped her hands into his and smiled. Could he see that in the dark?
“Merry Christmas,” he said.
“Same to you.” She snuggled against him. After a moment he wrapped his arms around her. “You’re cold.”
“I came across in the boat.”
“Your boat? Did Mr. Moody come get you?”
He nodded, then brushed a hand through her hair. She closed her eyes, enjoying him, the scent of salt water on his skin and clothes, the underlying scent that was him and only him.
“Did you call earlier?” She hadn’t heard the telephone ring.
“He has a separate line. How’s Hannah?”
“Better every day, I think.” Julianne leaned back to look at him in the dark. “I missed you.”
His answer was to kiss her, but without his usual passion. The sweet tenderness of his lips against hers made her happy—and frustrated her. Something was going on with him.
Before she could ask what, she heard the dogs bark in a way she’d never heard before—frantic and threatening.
“Stay here,” Zach ordered her then was out of the room before she’d fully registered the dogs’ new sound, intensifying in volume and ferocity.
The dogs went wild. Julianne flew out of bed and raced to the window, flinging it open to the frigid night air. She couldn’t see anything. The dogs continued to bark. A shot rang out. The barking stopped. Suddenly. Completely.
“Zach!” she screamed, frantic. Noooo. No, no, no.
She ran out of the room, raced down the stairs and along the hallway, her heart pounding, lungs burning. Into the dining room. The kitchen. The utility room—She skidded to a halt.
Mrs. Moody blocked the side door. “You can’t go out there.”
She tried to push her way past the older woman, who had become like an iron gate. “But, Zach—”
“You can’t distract him.”
Julianne clenched her teeth and looked for a way to get around the woman, who crossed her arms, looking even more immovable. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. An intruder of some sort or the dogs wouldn’t have gone crazy like that.”
“But they stopped…”
“I know.” She glanced toward the door, fear in her eyes. “My husband is out there, too.”
A sound of soft, hurried footsteps came from behind Julianne. She whirled around, a fleeting thought that Hannah had been drawn from her room, but a stranger approached, a dark-haired, fiftyish woman about Julianne’s height, clutching her fleece robe at her throat, her eyes wide and panicky.
“I heard a shot…” Her voice trailed off. Her steps slowed. She stared at Julianne, who stared back.
Zach hadn’t said he’d brought someone with him. Had he rescued her? Was that where he’d been? He hadn’t been home long enough to tell her anything.
Julianne tried to smile, feeling a need to put the stranger at ease. “We don’t usually have much excitement around here.”
The woman’s gaze shifted to Mrs. Moody and back again. “That’s good to know. Um, you don’t think someone should see what’s happening? Check to see if someone needs medical care?”
“They wouldn’t want us to interfere,” Mrs. Moody stated, although she moved as if to open the door.
“Can’t we look out your bedroom window?” Julianne asked. “We might see something.”
The door opened then. A disheveled man, fury in his eyes, stumbled in, apparently shoved from behind. Zach followed, gripping the man’s arm. Mr. Moody brought up the rear.
Julianne did a quick visual survey of her husband but couldn’t see any injury. The intruder, however, showed signs of the dogs’ diligence, as his clothes were ripped. She didn’t see any blood.
Zach’s gaze went from Julianne to the woman. “Have you—?”
She shook her head.
Julianne went on full alert. What was going on? What secret were they keeping? Did it have anything to do with the man, who looked like he’d swum to the island? Impossible, of course, but he gave the appearance of it.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere,” Zach said to no one in particular. He dragged the man off with him, Mr. Moody following.
The women stood awkwardly for a minute, then Mrs. Moody said she would make hot cocoa and busied herself at the stove.
The stranger, her hands clenched in front of her, smiled at Julianne.
“Zach brought you with him tonight to the island?” Julianne asked.
“Yes.”
“Did he…rescue you?”
“In a way.”
Mrs. Moody clanked a spoon against the pan she was using to heat the cocoa. “Can I fix a plate of cookies for you?” she asked, her voice harsh.
Julianne frowned at her tone. “I’ll do it. Looks like we’ll be up for a while.” She lifted the lid on the Casper the Ghost cookie jar, the only bit of whimsy in the entire castle, and pulled out some chocolate chip cookies Mrs. Moody had made that afternoon. She set the plate on the kitchen table, then got out enough mugs for everyone.
All the while she felt the stranger’s eyes on her. It was downright creepy. And a little odd to have three women in a kitchen and no one talking, not even about the weather, although Julianne got the sense that the woman wanted to say something.
The uneasy silence almost sent Julianne in search of Zach, except that she knew he wouldn’t be pleased if she went after him. Mrs. Moody filled five mugs. The men returned, without their prisoner.
“Do we have a dungeon?” Julianne asked, trying to lighten the gloom.
“As a matter of fact.”
“You’re kidding!”
“No.” He reached for the mug that Mrs. Moody extended toward him. “He’s Jacob’s father, John Munson.”
“Baby Jacob?” Julianne asked. “How did he get here? How did he even know to come…” Her voice faded as she realized she shouldn’t be asking questions in front of the stranger. But who had fired the gun? “Are the dogs okay?”
“They’re fine. Heroic. He shot at them and missed. Or one of them jumped him and deflected his aim. I don’t know. It happened before I got there. And I don’t know yet how he got here. He’s not talking.”
Mr. and Mrs. Moody quietly left the room, mugs in hand. Zach put a hand on Julianne’s shoulder. “I wanted to wait until morning to give you your gift by the Christmas tree.” He glanced at the woman.
Julianne was frightened now. He wasn’t acting like himself. And the woman made her nervous. Was he sending her away? Ending the marriage? Had he found someone to take her in, someplace safe? He’d stopped making love to her. He had called her only once, and that conversation was cool and impersonal. She shook her head and took steps back, needing to get away, not wanting to know.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
She didn’t even know where. There wasn’t anyplace to go. To hide. They had a dungeon!
“You don’t have any idea who I am?” the woman asked.
Julianne shifted her gaze to the woman. Fear like none other she’d known dove feet first into her, landing hard, knocking the wind out of her. The intensity in the woman’s eyes scared her speechless.
“I’m your mother.”
Shock zapped Julianne in the midsection. She shook her head.
“Yes. Your husband tracked me down.”
“Take her back,” Julianne ordered Zach, looking straight at him, not wanting to see the woman who’d abandoned her. “I don’t want to know her.”
“Listen to what she has to say.”
“Why should I? She left me. Left me—” she pounded a fist on her chest “—with him. My father.”
“I didn’t leave you,” her mother said, moving closer.
“Liar.” It was hard to breathe. Hard to focus.
“Julianne.” Zach’s voice soothed. “She’s telling the truth. She didn’t leave you.” He set his hands on her shoulders. “Your father kidnapped you and your brother. There are police reports.”
Julianne’s world tilted, tipped…tumbled. She was aware of Zach putting his arms around her, supporting her as her legs gave way. Nausea threatened. Kidnapped? No. Yes. It made sense. It made too much sense.
“Sit down,” Zach said, as her mother dragged a chair behind her, then kneeled in front of Julianne. The woman started to reach out, but instead curled her hands into fists.
“I’m sorry you’re going through this,” she said. “And so sorry you’ve lived this lie all your life, Tricia.” She put a hand to her mouth. “I mean, Julianne.”
“My name is Tricia?”
“Patricia Ann Columbus.”
Julianne repeated the name. It rang no bells. “He called me Venus.”
“Zach told me.”
“My brother’s name? Nico?”
“Close. Nicholas. Nicky, though.”
“And your name?”
“Monica.”
“He said it was Paris.” Julianne’s throat burned. Her mother hadn’t left her. It must be the truth or Zach never would have brought her. “You tried to find me?” she asked, the words scraping along her aching throat.
“Forever. That’s why Zach found me so easily. I kept my name out there, in case you looked for me. He found your original birth certificate, the real one.”
Julianne started to cry. Monica reached out, tentatively. After a moment Julianne leaned forward, put her head on her mother’s shoulder and let the tears come. Arms came around her, strong, comforting, secure. Her mother was crying, too. They talked without making much sense. Fragments of sentences, emotion long denied, hope long buried. She felt her mother’s lips against her hair, her temple, her cheek.
When they released their grips and leaned back from each other, Julianne saw that Zach was gone.
They never went to bed. They sat on the sofa in the living room and talked, tripping over each other’s sentences, sometimes sad, sometimes angry, but touching. Always touching. For twenty years they’d been denied each other. It would take time to catch up.
Julianne would never be able to thank Zach enough. But she would try.