All in One Place (27 page)

A
n hour later I was flipping through a magazine in the emergency ward of the hospital, ignoring the crying baby beside me and
the funky smell emanating from the muttering man across from me, trying to stifle my own hospital memories and my thoughts.

All my plans to leave would have to be put on hold until I got Amelia settled. And what would that entail? How was I going
to get Madison back from Rod?

I threw the magazine down in anger, remembering how Jack had defended that rat. How could he?

Restlessness clawed at me, pulling me to my feet. Why was this taking so long? The doctor said they'd be done quick. This
wasn't quick. This was long. This was
Titanic
long.

I caught a glimpse of the time. Close to midnight. The pumpkin hour.

Now that I had made up my mind to leave Harland, I wanted to be gone. I wanted to be down the road, away from people who asked
too many questions. People whom I had already told too much. People with whom I had become too connected. Too fond.

I couldn't stop my mind from flitting back to Cor De Windt. How good it felt to be hugged like a daughter. Remembering that
hug made me jump to memories of Jack, who hadn't hugged me like a daughter at all.

You need to get going. Get gone. Remember the plan. The longer you stay, the better chance Eric has of finding you.

Desperation clutched at me. I couldn't leave until I helped Amelia get Madison back. I'd promised her, and I knew I needed
to do this. Needed to reunite mother and child. Needed to close the circle. To atone for my own sins.

The doors to the main entrance whooshed open, letting in a draft of cool evening air. I shivered and turned.

And came face-to-face with Jack, Rod right behind him.

Rod's jacket was buttoned askew, his eyes were bloodshot, and I could see the beginnings of a beard. He looked like ten miles
of bad road. He looked exactly like the kind of guy who could hurt someone badly.

“Where's Amelia?” Rod asked, his eyes piercing me.

My angry gaze ticked from Rod to Jack. “How did you know?”

“My dad saw Amelia talking to you. He told me.”

“Well, it didn't take you long to go running to your buddy.” I spat out the words, my anger burning hot and hard.

“I didn't. He found me.” Jack's eyes grazed over mine, then past me to the emergency department.

“Is Amelia okay?” Rod asked, all solicitous and caring.

He had to be kidding me. “And you care because…”

“Terra…” Jack warned.

“Amelia is lying on a bed in there, getting who knows how many stitches in her arm because of you, and you dare act as if
this wasn't your fault?” My anger gained strength, my words lashed out at him. People were watching us, but I didn't care.
All my attention was focused on this man who had hurt my friend.

“Terra, please listen,” Jack said, reaching out to me.

I spun away, afraid that if he touched me I would lose my momentum. Just like I always did with Eric when he tried to make
me look unreasonable.

“That poor girl has been living in fear of this guy. He hurts her—and now he has the nerve to show up here acting like he
cares?” I turned to Rod, my anger building. “And where is Madison? Where is Amelia's little girl?”

“She's safe,” Jack said quietly. “Please, you have to understand.”

I turned to face him, lashing out at him as well. “No. You have to understand. Amelia is doing the best she can. She needs
help, not condemnation…” I stopped myself in time. I'd already been down this road before. With Jack. The scenery wasn't worth
the trip. I took a deep breath. Men didn't listen to hysterical women.

“Rod's been sick with worry about Amelia,” Jack said. “He's been taking care of Madison all day and night. He's been phoning
anyone who knows anything about her, including you.”

“And somehow he found time to hurt her, too.”

“What are you talking about?” Rod cried out. “What do you mean, ‘hurt her’?”

Jack held up his hand to quiet his friend, then turned to me. “Amelia left Madison with a babysitter this morning and said
she was going to be home at suppertime. She didn't show up. Rod hasn't seen her all day.”

I thought of the message on Helen's answering machine. I thought of the alcohol I sniffed on Amelia's breath. I was no nurse,
but I could see that Amelia's wound wasn't very old. In spite of my anger, my mind flashed back to the first place I had been
with Amelia. And the second. The bar each time.

And Rod, who was supposed to have been in a drunken rage, according to Amelia, looked, in spite of his bloodshot eyes, fairly
sober.

As the information settled, my mind cast back to other things Amelia had done and not done. Taking Madison into that sleazy
bar that first day we met. I thought of the skim milk in her grocery cart, the dirty diaper and how she didn't know how to
use a thermometer.

I shook my head as if to rid myself of the disloyal thoughts. Amelia was in the same situation I had been. I'd had no one
to believe me or help me either.

I couldn't be wrong. I'd been here before. I'd lived Amelia's life.

Remember how Eric could be so charming. So sweet. So manipulative.

But Eric had not been the only man in my life. If I was ever going to free myself from his memory, I had to use my discretion
and not judge every man I met based on my experiences with one man.

“Please, did she say how she got cut? Did she tell you anything?” Rod asked again.

I wavered at the distress in his voice, remembering Jack's concern over Amelia.

“She said that you did it.”

Rod bit his lip and shook his head. Jack laid his hand on Rod's shoulder as if sympathizing with him.

“I have never hurt her or Madison,” Rod said. “Ever. Amelia… she has a few problems. So does Madison.”

“She said that you want Madison taken away from her.”

“I can't take care of Madison,” Rod said quietly, looking past me to the emergency ward where Amelia was still getting stitched
up. “She has problems that I don't know how to deal with. And I know that Amelia hasn't taken proper care of her. But I can't
be around all the time. I'm gone too much.”

I felt as if my world was shifting as I tried to reconcile what he was saying with my first impressions of him. Impressions
that had been reinforced by Amelia.

I knew she was a little loopy. I knew she had her problems. And Rod sounded sincere. Could I believe him?

Rod sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I don't care what you think of me, Terra. But I do care about Madison. And
Amelia.”

I rubbed my forehead with my fingertips, trying to figure out what to do.

“Terra, please believe him.” Jack's quiet voice slipped over my roiling thoughts. Jack was a good man. I knew that. I felt
that. And it mattered to him that I believed Rod.

I held Jack's gaze, wishing I could trust my own judgment, realizing that I didn't need to. All I needed to do was trust Jack,
who had given me no reason to distrust him or anything he said. In his line of work, he'd seen more domestic situations than
I had. Had a larger base of knowledge.

Just trust Jack.

“I do,” I whispered. “I believe him.”

“Thanks,” Jack said, brushing my arm with the back of his hand. A casual touch, but a gentle connection.

“I'm going to talk to a doctor. See if I can talk to her.” Rod gave Jack a curt nod, then without another look at me, left
me and Jack alone.

I turned to watch Rod walking toward the nurses' station, still unsure what to do.

“I should wait to bring Amelia home,” I said, reluctant to pass on what I saw as my responsibility.

“Rod will do that. No matter what you think of him, he's a good man.”

“I believe he is because you say he is,” I said quietly.

Jack brushed a strand of hair away from my face, a gesture that grazed my heart. “Are you okay? You seem tired.”

“It's late, and it's been a long, hard day.”

“Do you need a ride home?”

“I drove my car here.” I couldn't do anything more for Amelia tonight, so it was time to go.

“Let me at least walk you to it.” He put his hand at the small of my back, gently escorting me to the doors. As they swung
open, a man stumbled in, followed by two more supporting a man who sagged between them.

“Hey, Jack. What's goin' on here, huh?” the first man called out, breaking away from the group.

Jack drew in a slow breath, as if gathering patience. “What do you want, Ralph?” His cop voice was back, and I was glad I
wasn't the recipient of that low-level growl.

Ralph wavered a moment, the stench of alcohol washing over us. He pointed at me, his finger weaving and bobbing. “You friends
with her?” He swayed, trying to focus his bleary eyes on me. “That why you told me to drop the charges? 'Cause she's a friend?”

“I told you to drop the charges because there was a strong possibility you would lose the court case and a bunch of money.”
Jack didn't raise his voice, but I could hear the steel as he spoke.

As my tired mind tried to wrap itself around what Ralph and Jack were saying, Ralph poked his finger toward me. “That girl
is trouble, ya know?”

Jack intercepted Ralph's hand without any change in his expression.

“She and that frien' of hers,” Ralph continued, keeping his hand down this time, “that Amelia chick. She was nothing but big
trouble tonight.”

I was desperately trying to catch up.

Jack had convinced Ralph to drop the charges?

Ralph and Amelia had been in the same place tonight?

Was that where Amelia had gotten hurt?

“I'm sure I'll find out once I get back to work tomorrow,” Jack said, placing his arm on my shoulder. “For now, you'd better
get your friend some help, and then you'd better get sobered up so I don't have to charge you with a Drunk and Disorderly.”

Jack gently eased me toward the door, not giving Ralph as much as a second glance.

Once we were outside, I turned, holding my hands up as conversations caught up with me and settled in my woozy brain. “Do
you really think Amelia was with Ralph? Tonight? Do you think that's where she got hurt?”

Jack shrugged. “I can't draw any conclusions based on what a half-corked idiot says.”

My mind skittered over previous events, comments, and my own perceptions, trying to put this all together. “Amelia took me
to the Pump and Grill. That's where I met up with Ralph in the first place.”

“Yeah.”

“So she probably knows him.”

“Probably.”

“So Rod was right.”

Jack just nodded.

“And this Ralph thing. Did you convince him to drop the charges?”

“I was doing him a favor.” Jack rocked back on his heels, tucking his hands in the back pockets of his pants, humoring me.

“And doing me a favor.”

Jack angled me a wry smile. “I had a few ulterior motives, yeah.”

“Why?”

Jack sighed, put his hand on my shoulder again, and steered me toward the parking lot. “It's no big deal. He was going to
lose badly, and it would have been a waste of time and money for you, too.”

“For my wallet's sake I'm glad you did.” I didn't look at him as I moved things to what I saw was an inevitable conclusion.
“And I have my money back, which means I'm free to go.”

Jack's step slowed; his hand tightened. “Go? When?”

I tried for a casual shrug, and when he dropped his hand, I felt as if I had lost something important.

Keep with the plan.

“I don't know. Soon.”

“You had no intention of staying around?”

His voice had gotten hard, more gruff than usual. I thought of what Leslie had said and, for a moment, felt guilty.

How was I supposed to know this would matter to him
?

I should have. We had gone on a date and it was fun. Jack didn't seem like a casual dater. Even more important—he'd kissed
me. Three times. I didn't think Jack was a casual kisser either.

I kept my eyes on my car, my ticket to freedom, parked halfway down the parking lot as I stumbled through this conversation.
“That was the plan.”

“You had a plan? I thought you lived for the moment.”

“Well, sometimes.”

“So, make a new moment.” He stopped and gently turned me toward him. “Make a new plan.”

I weighed the wisdom of what he was saying as I felt the heat of his hands on my shoulders.

Hands that were strong and gentle at the same time.

Then I made the mistake of looking at him—at how the evening light glinted off the whiskers shadowing his chin, at the slight
wave in his hair. His eyes held a secret that I wanted to discover.

And then, for the fourth time, he kissed me. Just a light brush of cool lips over mine, then a harder brush as I melted toward
him.

This wasn't fair. He wasn't playing fair.

“I guess… I don't have to leave right away,” I said, trying to find my breath. “I could stay awhile… you know…” I let the sentence
drift off, hoping he would fill in the blanks—if not verbally, then mentally.

“I know. I think that would be good,” he said quietly, his voice a rumble under my hands, which had, somehow, ended up resting
on his chest.