Chapter
Thirteen

Reuben and I rushed up the stairs to Zac’s room. He was lying on the bed, his face stark white, dark circles under his eyes. He looked awful.

“What’s wrong?” I asked Esther.

“I’m not sure, child,” she said. “But it looks like food poisoning. What did you eat today?”

“We . . . we ate Italian food in Bonne Terre, but I don’t think it could have been that.”

“Well, I gave him ipecac syrup. It’s what I used to give my children. His stomach was certainly full of something.”

“Wait a minute. We kept part of a stromboli in the car all afternoon, and Zac ate it on the way home.”

Reuben frowned. “That’s probably it. Something with meat and cheese should be refrigerated.”

I felt Zac’s forehead. It wasn’t hot, which seemed to confirm Esther’s original diagnosis.

“You can quit talking about me like I’m dead,” Zac mumbled. “And quit feeling me, Wynter. I’m not a child.”

“Stop looking like a corpse, and I’ll stop touching you. How are you feeling?”

Zac pulled himself up into a sitting position. My original evaluation of his color changed from white to pale green.

“Like a big truck ran over me, backed up several times, and tried to finish the job.” He shuddered. “I will never eat Italian food again. Never ever. Nor will even one more drop of ipecac syrup ever make it past my lips in this lifetime. Not as long as I have breath in my body.”

Although I was still concerned for him, I had to smile. No one could combine physical illness with affronted emotions the way Zac could.

“Maybe it isn’t Italian food you need to avoid. Eating food that’s been sitting in a hot car all afternoon isn’t the smartest thing you ever did.”

Esther leaned over and wiped his face with a damp cloth. “I think he’s doing better.” She smiled at Zac. “I know you hated my remedy, but it seems to have done the trick.”

“I don’t think many people use ipecac now, Esther,” I said. “Maybe we should call the hospital and ask them what to do.”

“Pshaw,” she said. “Modern medicine doesn’t have all the answers. Zac will be a little tired for a couple of days, but he’ll be up and around soon. My children went through this.”

Zac’s eyebrows shot up. “You gave your kids food poisoning?”

Esther patted his shoulder. “Not to worry. It happened at church picnics. Potato salad and tuna salad that sat out too long in the sun. I never cooked anything that made them ill.”

Zac looked relieved. “Wynter,” he whispered through pale, dry lips. “This is just what we needed. Call Ed and tell him I’m sick. That we’ll need a few more days.”

“I . . . I don’t know,” I said. “It’s not really honest . . .”

“You won’t be lying,” Zac said weakly. “I’ve never felt so bad in my entire life.” He pointed at me. “Just don’t tell Ed where we are.”

“Okay. I’ll try. It would be helpful to get a little more time.”

“I’m happy to sacrifice myself for the cause,” Zac said dramatically, falling back on his pillow.

I patted him on the head. “You’re my hero. Now why don’t you get some sleep? I’m right down the hall. I’ll check on you later.”

“I’m going to sit with him awhile,” Esther said. She picked something up from the nightstand. “Brought this from downstairs.” She rang a little ceramic bell. “Used this when my children were sick.” She wiped Zac’s forehead again. “After I leave, if you want anything, you just ring it,” she told him. “Wynter will hear it and come.” She nodded at me. “Sorry to put you out, but I’m afraid I won’t hear the bell all the way downstairs. You wake me if you need me though, and I’ll get up.”

“Thanks, Esther, but I think he’ll be fine.”

“If he hasn’t improved by morning, we can ask Rae to come by and take a look at him.”

Zac’s eyes widened. “You . . . you mean the veterinarian? What am I, a dog?”

“Shh,” Esther said. “She knows about people too. The closest doctor is in Fredericktown. Rae’s always willing to help, and she’s good at it.”

Zac sighed. “Wow. Ipecac and a veterinarian for a doctor. The charm of this small town is wearing thin.”

Reuben laughed. “Small-town living can certainly be a challenge. You were lucky to get sick at Esther’s. She’s pretty smart.”

“We’re going,” I said as Zac’s eyelids began to flutter. “You get some sleep.”

“Okay.” He drew out the word, and then his voice dropped off completely. It was replaced by snoring.

“Are you sure you want to sit with him, Esther?” I asked. “I don’t mind . . .”

She waved her hand at me. “Not at all. Makes me feel useful again. Like when I took care of Benjamin and Rebecca.”

The catch in her voice got my attention, and I looked at Reuben. He gave me a slight nod. “Why don’t you walk me to the door, Wynter?” he said.

I touched Esther’s shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

“That’s fine, honey. You take your time. He’ll probably sleep for quite a while. He’s pretty worn out.”

I slipped out the door, and Reuben followed me. When we got down the stairs, I grabbed his arm and pulled him aside.

“Look, I don’t want to be nosy, but is everything all right with Esther’s children? Their rooms seem like shrines, and she hasn’t mentioned seeing them recently.”

Reuben took my hand and led me over to the front door. Then he pushed it open and we stepped out onto the porch. The wind had picked up, and there was a definite chill in the air, although the rain Reuben had predicted wasn’t here yet. Spring in Missouri was mercurial. I could dress warmly in the morning and be sweating by the afternoon. Today the reverse was true.

“After Josiah died, Esther was both mother and father to those kids. Of course, the community helped her quite a bit. That’s Sanctuary. We see ourselves as one big family.” He grinned. “Not in a creepy way. No one here believes we own other people’s children, but when one of us needs help, all of us pitch in.”

“You all get together for a good old-fashioned barn raisin’?” I asked with an exaggerated twang.

He laughed. “Actually, that happened once. But usually, no. It’s more like when someone’s sick, people bring food, and when a mother loses her husband, the church makes sure she has plenty of help.”

He leaned against one of the posts that held up the porch’s roof. “Most of the kids in Sanctuary go to public school in Barnes. It’s only about ten miles from here. The school’s a good one now, but it was kind of a mess when Ben and Becky went there many years ago. They got involved with some bad kids. Esther did her best to keep an eye on them, but it wasn’t enough. Ben took off when he was eighteen. He’s been in trouble ever since. I’m not sure when Esther last heard from him. And that might be a good thing. When he does call, he wants money. Once he realized Esther didn’t have any more to give him, he quit contacting her.”

“What about Rebecca? Esther said she was married and living in Springfield.”

Reuben nodded. “She is. After a rough start, she straightened herself out. But she always says she’s too busy to visit her mother. Esther doesn’t drive, so she never gets to see her grandchildren. To be honest, I think Becky’s too embarrassed to let her rich husband see where she came from.”

I pulled myself up and sat on the railing. “Man, I can’t believe it. Esther’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. Someday she’ll be gone. I wonder how her kids will feel then.”

“I don’t know.” Reuben shook his head. “I actually called Becky once and tried to talk to her about her mother. That didn’t go well.”

“I suppose you had the perfect life. You and your family are close?”

“Yes, we’re very close. We lost my dad about seven years ago. My mom lives in Jefferson City, and Maggie lives in Kansas. No childhood trauma to report.” As soon as the words left his mouth, his face fell. “Wynter, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Please, Reuben. Don’t worry about it. I don’t want anyone to walk on eggshells because of me.” I gazed out at the silent streets. “So why do you live here instead of near your family?”

He smiled. “My parents owned a farm just outside of town. After my dad died, I inherited the farm, lock, stock, and barrel. Maggie didn’t want it, and I did.”

“So you’re a mayor slash farmer?”

He laughed. “Add another slash. I do a little writing too. Guess it runs in the family.”

“Wow. I’m impressed.”

“Don’t be. I write copy for farm equipment catalogs. Not very exciting. I won’t be popping up on the New York Times Best Seller list anytime soon.”

“Still, it’s . . . cool.”

Reuben’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “You’re the first person to think describing a spark plug for a John Deere tractor is cool.”

“Well, I do. You know, I don’t tell many people that I like to write. They tend to look at me like I just announced I was running for Miss America. I told my mother about it after I enrolled in college. She thought I was delusional. I changed my major from creative writing to broadcast journalism.”

“Well, I don’t think you’re delusional. You should follow your passion.”

“I am. I enjoy my job.”

“That didn’t sound very convincing.”

I smiled. “I may not be passionate about it, but I am content. Perhaps that’s enough.”

“So what are you doing tomorrow?” he asked.

“Well, I can’t do actual interviews without my photog, but I can work on questions and decide where to shoot. With your help, we have several good candidates for the piece. I’ll talk to those I think will work well for our story and narrow it down to four or five. Then when Zac feels better, all we’ll have to do is film the final interviews and get our background shots.”

“I’ll stop by in the morning and check on Zac,” he said. “If he’s doing okay, I’ll take you to breakfast. Maybe I’ll tag along while you work, if it’s okay.”

“I’d like that. I’m sure people will feel more comfortable if you’re with me. Thanks, Reuben.”

“Wynter . . .” Reuben hesitated.

“Yes?”

“Promise me you’ll be careful.”

The seriousness of his tone made my stomach do flip-flops. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. The note stuck on your windshield. The newspaper clippings. Zac getting sick. Individually, none of them are ominous. But all of them together? It makes me nervous.”

“I’ll admit the note was a little scary, but as far as the rest of it . . . I don’t see any connection. Zac got sick because he ate food that wasn’t refrigerated. It might have been dumb, but I don’t think it’s anything to be concerned about.”

“I know, but it’s still disturbing. All these things happening at the same time.” He stepped up closer to me and put his hand under my chin. “Promise me you’ll be cautious, okay? Don’t take any chances.”

I put my hand on his. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

I knew he was going to kiss me, and I was right. Even though I couldn’t see a future for us, my feelings seemed to have a mind of their own.

I gently pushed him away. “I’d better get inside. See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.”

I watched him until he turned the corner. Then I went inside. Before going to my room, I stopped to check on Zac. He was still sleeping. Esther sat in the chair knitting. She smiled and nodded, letting me know she wasn’t quite ready to leave.

When I opened my door, weariness washed over me. I kicked off my shoes and collapsed on the couch. Reuben’s concerns for my safety made me feel disquieted. Ever since I’d come to Sanctuary, I’d concentrated on finding out the truth about my brother. Being concerned for my own safety hadn’t really occurred to me. But what if Elijah was Ryan? And what if his kidnapper was living in Sanctuary? Of course, it was possible the Fishers weren’t what they seemed to be. But it was much more likely they’d been duped by someone else. Could that person be watching me? Afraid I might get too close?

These questions rolled around in my mind for a while, but they were like feathers in the wind, blowing every which way without any discernible pattern. Finally I forced myself to get ready for bed. I’d just changed into my pajamas when someone knocked on my door. I opened it and found Esther standing there.

“I’m headed to bed, Wynter,” she said. “Zac is sleeping peacefully. I left his door open so you could hear him if he needs help. Might be best if you left yours open as well. Mind you, the cats will probably find their way in.”

As if on cue, Maizie came running in and jumped up onto the bed.

I laughed. “I don’t mind one bit. I love having them around, and so does Zac.”

Esther looked pleased. “They’ve certainly taken a shine to both of you. And don’t worry about Zac. I doubt he’ll wake up. Best thing he can do is get some rest.”

“Thank you, Esther. I’m so glad you were here to take care of him.” I reached out and hugged the small woman.

“I certainly love having you here,” she said when I released her.

“Zac and I are very grateful. We both feel at home.”

She reached up and patted my cheek. “You get some sleep too. Come on down in the morning when you feel like it. I’ll wait on breakfast until you’re up and around.”

“Thanks, but please don’t go to any trouble. I’m good with toast and coffee.”

“Whatever you want. Good night.”

As she walked away, I suddenly remembered something. “Oh, and thank you for the fudge.”

Esther turned around and gave me an odd look. “Fudge? I’m not sure what you mean.”

“The box of fudge you put in my room.”

“Must have been someone else. It wasn’t me. But if you want something sweet there’s pie and cookies in the kitchen.”

I assured her I wasn’t hungry and said good night. The reality of her response made my skin crawl. I quietly walked down the hall to Zac’s room. His gentle snoring was the only sound I could hear. Clyde and Frances watched me from Zac’s bed as I searched everywhere for the box of fudge. Even in the trash can.

It had disappeared.