IT HAD BEEN SO long, Jackson thought as the sound of Reese’s unrestrained giggles washed over him. Like a soothing balm, that laughter eased his tortured heart and gave him the first real hope he’d known in almost a year. If she could laugh, she could talk. If she could talk, she could come all the way back to him.
He blinked back the moisture in his eyes, clearing the image in front of him. He wanted always to remember this moment. This picture of Reese, with small white fur-ball puppies clambering all over her as she took her first hesitant step out of the shadows.
Shrinks be damned.
It was just as he’d thought. Hoped. Reese would come back when she was ready to come back and not before. All the doctors in the world wouldn’t change that. Couldn’t change it. What she needed was her father.
And, apparently, puppies.
To his left, the back door opened and he frowned to himself, resenting the intrusion. Which was nuts, since he was standing in someone else’s backyard. He was the intruder here. Well, he and Reese. Though he couldn’t be sorry about it, now. When he’d first realized his daughter was gone from the house, instant irritation and fear had swept him. He didn’t want his daughter running off to Carla’s house every chance she got, and he’d been damn sure that’s just where she’d gone. After all, the pull of puppies wasn’t something that any kid could ignore.
But to get to this house, she had to cross a street that, all right, wasn’t exactly the Indianapolis 500, but the occasional driver zoomed down that road. And a short six-year-old wasn’t going to be easy to spot when you were doing fifty.
Even as he thought it, though, he admitted silently that wasn’t the whole reason he resented Reese coming here. She was probably safe enough crossing the street—especially at the crack of dawn. But her coming here ensured that he’d have to come after her. Which meant seeing the woman who lived here. The more time he spent with Carla, the more he enjoyed it, and damn it, he couldn’t afford to enjoy a woman at the moment. In any way.
Yet here he stood, in Carla’s yard, with a soft morning breeze rippling through his hair and his daughter’s laughter singing to him. So how in the hell could he be angry about any of it?
“Good morning!”
An older version of Carla poked her head out the opened door. Graying black hair framed a round face with snapping brown eyes and a wide smile. She stepped out onto the porch, wiping her hands on a pristine apron tied around her middle. “So, you want some coffee?”
“Excuse me?”
“Coffee,” she repeated, a little louder this time, as if he were deaf and she was determined to make him understand. “My Carla, she’s having some now. Best not to talk to her until she’s finished, so you can talk to me.”
Words. Coming too fast to be understood this early in the morning. Besides, if he went inside, he’d only be dragged deeper into the Candellano family. Best to escape now. “I’m sorry,” he said, “but I think Reese and I—”
“What?” She slapped her hands on her hips. “You have somewhere else to be before the sun comes up?” Tilting her head to one side, she asked, “You’re a vampire, maybe? I read about vampires and—”
“What?”
“Jesus, Mama.” Carla’s voice, blurred, indistinct, came from inside the kitchen. “Stop reading already.”
“I’m kidding.” She turned and glanced briefly toward her daughter. “Only you can make jokes?”
“Oh, Mama, it’s way too early for this.”
Jackson agreed. He hadn’t planned on running into anyone at this hour. He’d hoped to just pick up Reese and get back home before anyone knew they’d been there. Best-laid plans. “We’ll just be going.…”
The older woman ignored that completely. “You come in. You’ll have coffee. You’ll talk.”
Not an easy woman to argue with. At least he knew now where her daughter came by her bulldozer personality. “Reese—”
“Is fine,” the woman interrupted with a fond look at the child across the yard.
Reese might be fine, but she was silent again, now that she knew she had an audience. Already she was pushing herself to her feet and ignoring the jumping puppies. Abbey, though, was not to be ignored. The big dog simply pushed her head beneath Reese’s hand until she got the stroking and petting she so obviously wanted.
Disappointment swelled inside him. His heart twisted and that old familiar ache shimmered through his body. For one all too brief moment, his little girl had shone brightly again. Now that moment was gone and the silence was back.
“Come inside,” the woman on the porch insisted, kindness rimming her voice as if she knew exactly what he was feeling. “We’re all wide awake.” She tossed a cautious look back into the house and amended that statement slightly. “Most of us, anyway.” She shrugged. “My daughter, we give her more coffee, she’ll be all right.”
As if responding to a cue, Carla stepped out onto the porch beside her mother. Clutching a cup of coffee in both hands, she squinted at him, and even at a distance Jackson felt the tug of her gaze. Not many women could pull off a football jersey and a pair of boxer shorts. But damned if she didn’t make the outfit look good.
Which only served to remind him exactly why he shouldn’t be here.
“Hi.” Her voice sounded gravelly with sleep.
“Sorry about this,” he said. “Reese got out on her own again.”
“Cell block D needs better guards.”
He stiffened. Apparently, she really wasn’t a morning person. Fine. Just as well. He didn’t need a friend. He didn’t need a woman. Hell, he didn’t need any of this.
“Come in for some breakfast,” the older woman urged.
Carla rolled her eyes.
“Thanks, but we’d better go.”
Her mother gave her a not too subtle nudge in the ribs and Carla winced. “Have some coffee,” she said, and considered that more than gracious. Heck, she was offering to share her morning potion. What could be friendlier?
“I’ve got some at the house.”
“Who doesn’t?” she countered. “Mine’s closer.”
He looked from her to the girl, still standing in the puppy pen, and back again. Indecision warred on his features and sympathy welled up inside Carla until it nearly choked her. Remembering the look on his face as he’d watched his daughter’s laughter opened her heart to him, and that wasn’t something she’d counted on. Lust was one thing. Caring quite another. But the poor man had already had plenty of emotional turmoil this morning. Now he was being asked to face down Mama Candellano before 7:00 A.M. Who wouldn’t feel sorry for him?
“You come,” Mama piped up. “Have coffee. Ignore my daughter’s foul temper—which she got from me, because, God rest him, her papa never got angry; he only got quiet—not like the rest of us, Carla’s three brothers included, well, except for Paul; he’s like his papa with his quiet all the time.”
Carla blinked, shook her head, and stared at him. “Can she cram a load of words into one sentence or what?”
“Impressive,” he said, remembering now that Carla had warned him ahead of time about just how much her mother talked.
“I told you so.”
“You told him what?” Mama demanded, flicking a dish towel at Carla’s hip. “You’ve been talking about me?”
She leaned down and planted a quick kiss on her mother’s forehead. “Sure. I gave an interview on CNN. Didn’t you see it?”
“Smart mouth. That’s what you are.” Mama clucked her tongue, waved a beckoning hand at Jackson, then turned into the house, obviously expecting him to follow.
Jackson looked back at Reese.
“She’ll be fine,” Carla said, pausing for a gulp of coffee. “She’ll just play with the puppies, won’t you, Reese?”
The little girl nodded and eased back down to the ground, delighting the puppies, who immediately began to scale Mount Reese again.
“When Mama’s got breakfast ready, we’ll call her in.” He still didn’t look convinced. “Come on; be a hero.”
“What?” He looked up at her.
Carla glanced into the kitchen and whispered above the sounds of pots and pans clanging together, “I haven’t had nearly enough coffee yet to deal with Mama. If you’re there, she’ll pester you instead.”
Great. Jackson had the distinct feeling Mama would be a more formidable presence then the three women who’d descended on him yesterday, bearing salmonella.
Run, Forrest, run. That one line from a movie rattled inside his head like a warning bell. Jackson knew he should turn and leave. Knew he should get Reese and go back to the silent house across the way. But suddenly silence seemed more like an enemy rather than the companion it had become over the last year. But then, had it really been a friendly thing? Or was it always an enemy and he simply hadn’t noticed that until today?
Whatever the answer, he didn’t want to face the quiet alone. Not right now.
When he started for the house, Carla smiled, and damned if it didn’t feel good to have that smile aimed at him.
* * *
A half hour later, the scent of bacon hung in the air, dirty dishes lay scattered across Carla’s kitchen table, and he knew more about the Candellano family than he would have thought possible.
Morning sunlight poured through the windows, lying golden across the counters and floor. Reese sat beside him, surreptitiously handing Abbey bits of bacon under the table. On the wall opposite him, the ridiculous duck clock quacked seven times, and he told himself he and Reese should be going.
But he was reluctant to leave the warmth of this place for the cold emptiness waiting for him across the street. So instead, he nursed his third cup of exceptional coffee and watched as Carla and her mother waged a friendly war of words. Even through the bickering, though, he saw the love binding the two of them. Amazed, he felt drawn to it at the same time he admitted silently that he knew nothing about this kind of bond. This kind of unconditional acceptance. This family tie that wound deep enough to hold but not strangle.
He leaned back in his chair and remembered the string of foster homes he’d grown up in. Bounced from place to place, he’d never belonged. Never felt a part of anything. He’d thought that marrying Diane would fill that cold, dark spot inside him. Stupid, when neither of them had been in love. So it was hardly surprising that marriage hadn’t given him a sense of family.
Until Reese.
Until he’d looked into his daughter’s face when she was only moments old. In that one instant, Jackson had finally found the love that had eluded him all his life. One tiny girl had seemed to hold all the mysteries of the universe for him. He still remembered the swell of emotion that had risen up in him when the nurse placed his daughter in his arms for the first time.
His gaze shifted to her now, and despite the ache for what he’d lost, what they’d both lost, he knew that he would do whatever he could to make her whole again.
That was family, right?
“I saw on Oprah,” Mama was saying.
“Run,” Carla said, giving him a warning look. “Run fast and run far.”
“What kind of thing is that to say?”
“Compassionate,” Carla said, brown eyes snapping and a small twist of a smile curving her mouth.
“Pay no attention to her,” Mama countered, waving a hand at her daughter and turning her gaze on Jackson. “Oprah’s a smart cookie.”
“I’m sure.”
“See? He agrees.”
“He’s polite.” Carla grinned and took another sip of coffee. Really, he thought, it was incredible the change in her personality a little caffeine could manage.
“Carla?” A man’s voice, followed by the slam of the front door and quick footsteps crossing the living room. By the time they all turned around to face the doorway, the sheriff was standing there, looking grim enough to give any criminal second thoughts.
“Tony!” The older woman paled and pushed halfway out of her chair. “Beth? Tina?”
“They’re fine,” he said quickly, and Jackson watched color rush back into Angela Candellano’s features. Then the sheriff nodded and acknowledged, “Wyatt,” before turning on his sister. “Carla, we need your help.”
She was already shaking her head. “No way.”
Her eyes looked suddenly flat and bleak. Her face paled and Jackson had the weirdest urge to jump to his feet and put himself between Carla and her brother. The impulse to protect was so strong, so unexpected, he didn’t know what to make of it.
But then Carla stood up and moved away and the moment was lost.
Tony’d known coming over here that this wouldn’t be easy. His sister had a head like a rock when she wanted to. And in two years, no one had been able to talk her into doing what she did best. But today he wasn’t going to give her a choice. There was no time. And no one else to ask.
“We’re organizing a search—”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Carla said, walking to the window. She deliberately stared out at the sun-drenched yard, keeping her gaze on anything but Tony.
“Too damn bad,” her brother said sharply, and Carla turned to look at him.
“Don’t think you can bully me into this,” she snapped. “You know why I won’t.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Then don’t ask.”
“I don’t have a choice and neither do you.”
She moved back to the table, set her coffee cup down with a thunk, then wrapped her arms around her middle. “Sure I do. And I choose no.”
“Damn it, Carla—”
She snapped him a glare that would have fried a lesser man. “I’m not real happy with you anyway, Tony. So don’t push me.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Carla’s gaze flashed to their mother, then back to him. Now wasn’t the time. But when she got him alone, she was going to ream him a new one.
“Tony,” Mama interrupted, “maybe it’s not a good idea to…”
He only glanced at her. “There’s a man missing, Mama. He’s fifty-five years old. An Alzheimer’s patient.”
She crossed herself and muttered a fast prayer.
Tony went on, shifting his gaze back to Carla and staring her down, silently daring her to refuse. “Plus he’s got heart problems. He needs to take medication for it. He wandered off from his family’s campsite last night. They looked for him for hours before alerting us. We’re rounding up everyone we can.” Briefly he shot a look at Jackson. “We could use your help on this, too. The more searchers we have, the better.”
Jackson stood up slowly, glancing from Tony to Carla and back again. “I’d like to help, but my daughter—”
“Will be with me,” Mama interrupted him neatly, and looked at Reese. “We’ll bake cookies. Would you like that?”
The child stared at her father for a long moment, then turned back to the older woman and nodded.
“Good,” Tony said. “That’s settled. You can go with Carla. One more set of eyes, plus you’re new around here. We don’t need you getting lost, too.”
Jackson arched one eyebrow in silent insult.
“Carla’s not going,” she said.
“Oh, yes, she is,” Tony countered.
“You’ll find him.” Her voice sounded hollow, even to her own ears.
“Damn right we will,” Tony said, crossing to his sister and laying both hands on her shoulders. “But it’d be a damn sight easier with you and Abbey looking, too.”
“We’re retired.” She slipped out from under his grasp and backed up a step.
“Fine. Look today; retire again tomorrow.”
Carla felt the walls closing in on her. Just moments ago, she’d been laughing, and now she felt nothing but cold. Breath caught in her throat and her stomach churned. A search. She hadn’t been on one in two years. Not since … An invisible fist squeezed her heart and she winced with the ache of it.
Two long years, and that day still hovered at the edges of her mind like a shadow clinging to her heels on a hot summer day. Always there, whether she chose to acknowledge it or not. She remembered it all. The hope. The misery. The soul-crushing pain. If she allowed herself, she would remember the scream that seemed to echo over and over again until the sound became a part of the day, etching itself into her heart.
Her pulse pounded, thundering in her ears. Tears stung the backs of her eyes and Carla swallowed the cold knot of regret lodged in her throat. She couldn’t think about that now. Couldn’t remember his little face. Couldn’t let herself recall the sound of his laughter or the shine in his eyes or the strength of his hugs.
Because then she’d have to remember that he was dead, now.
“I can’t.” She shook her head, looking up at her brother, willing him to listen. To understand.
But Tony wasn’t going to let her off. “Yes, you can, damn it. That’s why I need you.”
Carla’s stomach pitched as she let her gaze slide from Tony, to Mama, to Jackson, and even to Reese, who watched her with solemn eyes. Abbey was on her feet, moving closer to Carla, as if offering silent support. She reached down and smoothed the dog’s soft golden hair and knew that Tony was right. She didn’t have a choice. Not today, anyway.
Ignoring pleas for help was somehow easier when they came from a distance. When Mike was on the phone talking about some far-flung place, she could tell him no, because she didn’t have to look into his eyes. She didn’t have to live with the people she’d refused to help. But here, standing in her own kitchen with her brother asking for help, it was a different matter entirely.
She fought down a rising tide of nausea and nodded. “Fine. Where do you want us?”
* * *
A strong, cold wind whipped in off the lake and eased the warmth of the sun. Jackson looked around at the area and wondered how in the hell they’d ever find one lone man. The lake itself was huge—he even noticed a few whitecaps dancing across the surface, pushed by the wind. A semicircle of forest backed up onto the lake and looked dense enough to hide an army of men, let alone one poor guy. And that wasn’t even counting the open meadow laid out in front of them. Dips and gullies in the land were hidden by the high grass, and for all they knew, the man could be stretched out in one of them.
It looked hopeless.
But that fact didn’t seem to bother Carla. She hadn’t wanted to help—she’d made that clear. But once she’d agreed, she’d been all business. In less than a half hour, she’d been dressed and ready to go. Now he stood beside her and Abbey, watching the two of them become a team.
“What’s that for?” he asked as she laid a neon orange vest with the word SEARCHERS emblazoned in black across Abbey’s back, then snapped it shut beneath her belly.
“Two things,” Carla muttered, not even looking up at him. “Number one, it tells Abbey we’re about to go to work. And number two … it tells any yahoos she might run into that she’s a search dog and they should leave her the hell alone.” She spared him a quick look. “It also makes her easy to see in case there are hunters wandering through the woods.”
“Hunters?” He glanced toward the tree line. Hell, the missing guy’s family didn’t have to worry only about him being lost. They had to worry about some other guy mistaking him for a deer.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, as if knowing exactly what he was thinking. Nothing’s in season right now.”
As soon as that vest was snapped on, the golden retriever’s attitude seemed to change. She stood a little straighter. Lifted her nose into the air. Her ears perked up as if listening for something they’d never be able to hear.
“She’s done this a lot.”
Carla nodded and stood up. “She was raised to it. And she’s the best, aren’t you, Ab?”
The dog continued her silent study of the terrain.
“What’s next?”
Carla pulled a plastic bag from the backpack slung over her shoulder. Inside the bag was a crumpled shirt. She pulled it out, let the dog take a few good sniffs, then stuffed it back into the bag and closed it tightly. She flashed him a look. “Got to keep the shirt sealed. Otherwise, the scent would just confuse her.” She reached down, rubbed the dog’s head, and said, “Abbey, find.”
The golden barked once, then took off like a shot, loping across the meadow, her lithe body slicing through the high grasses with speed and grace.
Carla started running, too. A slow jog that gave her no chance at all of keeping up with the dog. Jackson moved alongside her, silently giving thanks that he’d been pretty good about visiting the gym in the last year.
“She’s already out of sight,” he said.
“She’ll be back.” Carla didn’t sound winded at all—annoying. “She’ll keep coming back to me. Then, if she finds something, she’ll take me to it.”
“Smart dog.”
“Great dog,” she said, and flashed him a smile that didn’t go anywhere near her eyes.
That was the last time they spoke for nearly three hours. The only sounds were their feet thundering across the ground and the occasional crackle and spit of the walkie-talkie Carla carried. Jackson ran when she said and rested when she said. He couldn’t tell one part of the forest from another. One tree looked pretty much like another to him. But Carla seemed to know where she was going. And she trusted that dog.
They were good. Hell, she was good.
Why had she fought her brother so hard about taking part in the search? She was clearly an expert. Why back away from the very thing that you were best at?
And why did he care?
Sunlight splintered through the leaves of the trees, looking like golden sparks in the darkness. He eased down onto the closest rock when she called a rest, and watched as she pulled a water bottle from her pack and poured some into a small bowl she’d brought along for Abbey before offering him a drink.
He handed Carla back the bottle, scrubbed both hands across his face, then studied her for a long minute before asking, “So, are we going to find him in all this?”
She looked up at him and her eyes shone darkly. She took a long pull at the water bottle, then said, “God, I hope so. I can’t lose another one.”