CHAPTER 38

Parker rolled up the building plans and stored them with satisfaction before going to pick up Madison. The plans were every bit as good as the architect had promised. If they could pull it off, the expansive high-rise would be an accomplishment of a lifetime. And he would be a part of it, a major part—not just a crane operator but one of the planners and foremen.

After two long days of driving across Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Oklahoma, Missouri, and, of course, Illinois, Parker and Madison had arrived in Chicago. Ten whirlwind days followed—ten very long and productive days. Mr. O’Doherty had underplayed his connections, and before Parker knew it, he was rubbing elbows with local contractors who not only were willing to put him into the trenches with their regular crews but to give him a chance as a foreman.

He’d worried there would be questions at his sudden name change from Vincent to Jonathan Hanks, even though Shane and Orla O’Doherty weren’t filling out his employment records, but he’d purposefully not given them his last name back in Vegas, and the O’Dohertys accepted his explanation that Vincent was his middle name with only an interested comment.

Every second Parker could spare from work or taking care of Madison, he was visiting sites or studying construction plans. There were some notable differences in constructing a building that was larger than he’d ever built before, and there were dozens of new city codes to learn, but the differences were not as many or as important as he’d expected. More vital to his new employers were his organizational skills and the feel he had for the project.

He was going to make it. He would have to forego sleep and work himself nearly to death in these first years, but he would give Madison the life she deserved. Of course that didn’t mean everything was how he wanted it. He didn’t even try to pretend that this life could make him completely happy. Despite his satisfaction at work, the growing emptiness inside him wasn’t one he could easily overlook.

As he walked to where he’d parked the company truck the contractor had offered for his use while overseeing the job, his phone rang. He wasn’t surprised to hear Orla O’Doherty on the other end.

“I’m calling about dinner on Friday,” she said in her slight Irish lilt. “You are still planning on it, aren’t you?”

He climbed into the truck and started the engine. The weather was bitterly cold in the streets now that dark had fallen. “Yes, of course. And looking forward to it very much. Thank you.”

He and Madison had been invited to the O’Doherty’s expensive downtown apartment already twice since their arrival in Chicago, including Thanksgiving dinner last week. So far the dinners made up his only socializing outside work, and he planned to keep it that way.

“Just the two of you, then? When’s your girl coming? Soon, I hope. I’d think she’d want to spend the upcoming Christmas holidays with you. Your little Jess could use her company, and I daresay you could use the support too.”

She had no idea how true that was. “I hate to say it,” he finally told her after an awkward silence, “but I don’t know that she’s coming after all.”

Mrs. O’Doherty clicked her tongue. “Well, it’s hard to woo a woman properly when you’re so far apart. You should go back to California to get her. Or tell her you’re moving on. Maybe that’ll spark a fire under her. At any rate, you can’t go on this way. If she doesn’t want you, I know a lot of ladies who will.”

“I’ll talk to her,” he promised quickly. Having Orla set him up with women was the last thing he needed or wanted.

Twenty minutes later, Parker left the truck on the street near a row of apartment buildings and walked to the private residence where he left Madison each day with a middle-aged woman who also watched five other children of varying ages. Madison loved going there, and especially playing with the children, and the woman didn’t seem to care in the least when she realized Jess was really a Jessica. She had already knitted Madison a pink sweater that he let her wear only to the day care.

He thanked the sitter and extended a hand to Madison. “Come on, sweetheart. Time to go home. Zip up your coat. It just started snowing again.”

She was the last to be picked up tonight, so she didn’t delay in grabbing her coat and backpack. It had snowed most of the ten days they’d been in Chicago, and he’d taken to carrying an umbrella to protect Madison from the wet weather. He used it now, holding it over both of them as they went out into the cold night.

Parker thought about Orla O’Doherty’s comments as they walked back to the truck. He wanted to contact both his mother and Caitlin, but while he was sure of his mother’s response, Caitlin was a complete wild card. What made him think she’d want him now? And if he felt guilt for ripping his mother from her comfortable life, how could he even begin to expect that Caitlin would leave her prestigious job as an attorney to accommodate his life on the run?

He supposed he could put off his decision regarding Caitlin for months, hoping for a miracle. But those were months where she might go on to build a life with some pretty-boy attorney and forget the fire between them. The more he thought about it, the more he decided that Orla was right. He needed to act. Or let go.

Maybe letting go was best for all of them. Utah already seemed like a distant dream, something no longer a part of him. Except at night he sometimes thought about his family’s little valley in Mt. Pleasant and the stars shining brightly above in the sky. Would his mother sell the land? Selling would probably be a good decision since he had no idea how long he’d be in hiding, but he hoped she wouldn’t. For some reason, his dreams of the valley always included Caitlin, and in those dreams it was always summer, definitely not snowing.

Logic said he should wait longer before making any decisions. He still hadn’t figured out a safe way to contact his mother, much less Caitlin. He worried that the burner phone he’d given his mother might have been compromised by the police after his second disappearance, so he didn’t dare contact her on it. There were only a few days left on the service, and his mother would be past anxious by now, especially after celebrating her first solitary Thanksgiving. That knowledge weighed heavily on him, but somehow leaving things the way he had with Caitlin was worse—almost as bad as it would have been leaving Madison.

He had to know where they stood.

Even if it risked everything he’d worked for? She could just as easily turn him in to the police as fall into his arms. She was an attorney, after all, part of the legal system, and he’d given her little reason to trust him.

“Daddy?” Madison tugged on his hand. He always made sure to hold her tightly, since the traffic in this part of the city was thick in the evenings, even with the snow. Around them people walked briskly to their destinations, faces hidden and bodies rounded by layers to stave off the frigid air.

“What, sweetheart?”

“Can we have macaroni and cheese tonight?”

That would be a test of his limited cooking skills, as he hadn’t yet bought any boxes of mac and cheese. “We can try. We have macaroni, and we can grate some cheese. It might not taste the same.”

“That’s okay. I love cheese.”

“I know you do.”

They had reached the truck, and he opened the door and lifted her up into the air with a swoop that made her giggle. Emotion caught in his throat at how incredibly precious she was. Leaving might have split him in two, but he had to be careful never to forget or downplay the fact that Madison had been in danger every moment she’d stayed with Dakota.

Ten minutes later, as they rode up in the elevator in their apartment building, an idea occurred to him. An idea so intriguing that Caitlin might not be able to pass it up. At least not if she still held any feelings for him. And if he could be with her for a few moments, he knew he could convince her to believe in him. Maybe.

“Can I open the door with the key?”

“Sure, sweetheart.”

If he was really careful, it might work. Madison finally managed to open the door, and he went inside the furnished apartment to the drawer in the kitchen where he kept the new tablet that Madison mostly used to play learning games on the Internet.

“Daddy, what about the macaroni?”

“This will only take a minute. Why don’t you get out the cheese?”

The trick would be making sure nothing was traceable, not even to the debit card obtained with his new identity. But maybe, just maybe, he had enough luck, or karma, or whatever they were calling it these days, to make his idea work. The rest would be up to Caitlin.