Loving Tenderness (15 page)

Andrew’s head jerked backward, startled by her analogy. He’d never compared his earthly father’s forgiveness with the heavenly Father’s. “It seems different.”

“But it’s not. Your father loved you despite what you did. So does the Lord. You’ve reminded me of that over and over. By refusing your father’s trust fund, you’re re
jecting his forgiveness. If we don’t accept God’s gift, we’re refusing salvation.”

Hannah’s words blew him away. He gazed at her, amazed at how she’d grown in faith since she’d begun attending worship and reading the Bible. Today her comparison impacted him.

“I’ve never looked at it that way, Hannah. Thank you for reminding me.”

She sent him a full smile, the first he’d seen in days. “So what about this trust fund?” she asked.

“I want to give it to you.”

Her smile vanished. “Give it to me? You’re kidding.”

“I’m not. You can use it for the baby. I want to marry you, Hannah, but if you won’t accept my proposal, then I want to give you the next best thing.”

“And that is…”

“The trust fund. Money so you can buy a house and pay the hospital bills.”

She lowered her head and grew silent.

Her attitude puzzled him. He knew so little about women. “What’s wrong?”

She inched her head upward, and her look disturbed him. “The next best thing isn’t money, Andrew.”

Confusion rolled over him. “Then what is it?”

She rose and shook her head. “One day you’ll understand. I can’t explain it to you.”

“But—”

“Andrew!” JJ’s voice pierced the tension, and he darted into the room and threw himself on Andrew. “We lost the contest.”

“I heard. Sorry, pal, but maybe you’ll win next year.” He tousled the boy’s hair, hoping to make him smile.

“But I wanted to go to the corn maze.” His eyes
shifted toward Hannah. “Mom said I can’t.” He flung himself from Andrew’s arms to the sofa.

Andrew had never seen the boy behave this way. “You won’t get anything by pouting, JJ.”

His lip shrunk back a tad. “But—”

Andrew rested his hand on the child’s shoulder. “When you want something, you have to ask nicely and compromise.”

“What’s that?”

“Compromise? That means you give something to get something.”

The child’s face wrinkled. “But what can I give?”

“I don’t know. Something you should do for your mom as a thank you.”

JJ glanced at Hannah, then back to Andrew. “What?”

“Like picking up your toys,” Hannah said, “or saying thank you instead of whining, eating vegetables when they’re on your plate, keeping your room neat.”

“I can put my toys away.” JJ leaped from the sofa and grabbed an armload of toys, then vanished down the hall. Before Andrew could comment, the boy dashed back into the room and gathered up the rest of the mess.

Hannah stared at the hallway while Andrew listened to the sounds emanating from JJ’s room.

“I know he just turned five,” she said, “and he’s gotten rambunctious since he started school.”

“You probably told him when he was five he’d be a big boy. He’ll calm down once he adjusts. He’s excited.” He stood and crossed the floor to stand beside her. “What do you say? Tomorrow’s Saturday. Can we take him in the afternoon? He’s trying to behave. Listen to him in there.”

“You’re spoiling him.” Though she tried to sound firm, he heard the happiness in her voice.

“Never hurts to be spoiled. I’m trying to spoil you but you won’t let me.”

“I’m realistic,” she said, resting her hand on his shoulder and gazing into his eyes. “Thank you,” she said, standing on tiptoe so her lips could reach his.

He drew her closer and relished the scent of her fragrance. His fingers sought her wispy curls, and the silky threads caressed his palm while his mouth caressed her lips.

When he released her, he gave a nod toward JJ’s room. “If the room looks good, what do you say?”

A wry grin crept over her. “Okay. This time.”

Saturday afternoon, JJ bounded down the stairs and skipped along the sidewalk to Andrew’s sedan. Despite JJ’s cheer, no matter where they went, Andrew found himself scanning the area like a searchlight.

With everyone safely in the car, he followed the directions in the flyer he’d picked up at the school autumn fair and headed toward the farming community. JJ chattered from the back seat, leaving Andrew no time to convince Hannah to take the trust fund. She hadn’t given him a yes or no, but her look said no.

Outside of town, the highway narrowed and, on each side of the road, fields spread to the horizon, now-barren ruts waiting for spring planting. In the distance, acres of yellowed corn stalks towered above the car, and soon a sign came into view off the shoulder advertising Shawn Farms Corn Maze. JJ’s excitement mounted as the farm grew closer.

Andrew maneuvered his way through the busy parking lot as people returned to their cars or headed for the admission booth. Pumpkins grew on vines along the
path; and near the entrance, a large area was heaped with pumpkins for sale. Indian corn and gourds hung in an exhibit with name placards like: speckled swan, calabash, black amber, and fiesta. Children gathered around them inspecting the display.

At the booth, Andrew paid the admission, and the clerk handed him a map. “Follow the maze—we have seventeen acres here—and at these points,” she indicated a mark on the paper, “you’ll find the answer to these questions. If you answer all the questions, you’ll receive a free pumpkin and a discount coupon for dinner.”

“Dinner,” JJ said, rubbing his tummy.

Hannah gave him a playful poke, and Andrew pointed the way to the entrance.

“Did she say seventeen acres?” Hannah asked lagging behind him.

He’d forgotten the extra weight she carried. “Yes, but look.” He showed her on the map. “There’s an escape route.”

Hannah looked at the paper and chuckled. “It’s called Chicken Alley.”

“Cluck, cluck,” JJ said, flapping his arms.

Enjoying the warmth of the Indian-summer day, Andrew guided them into the maze, making wrong turns and running into dead ends, though they followed the guide sheet.

“Here’s a clue,” Hannah said, pointing to the placard that answered one of the questions. They studied the question list and penciled in the answer.

“This way,” Andrew said, but when he turned around JJ had vanished.

“JJ!” Hannah shouted at the same time he’d noticed.
She spun around, peering into the heavy rows of towering corn stalks. “JJ!”

Andrew felt his pulse kick up a notch, and he darted to the next corner and looked around the heavy barrier of stalks. Another family headed his way, but when he asked, they hadn’t seen a lone child.

Andrew controlled his panic and cupped his hands around his mouth. “JJ, either you come out now or we’re heading home.”

A rustling sound came from the stalks, and JJ appeared with a disappointed look on his face. “I was hiding. You were supposed to find me.”

“Don’t ever do that again, young man,” Hannah said, grasping his arm. “It’s not funny.”

JJ’s plaintive look aimed at Andrew.

“Your mother’s not fooling, pal. No hiding. If you get lost in here, we’d never find you.”

The boy hung his head and kicked at the fallen cobs lying on the ground.

“Let’s go.” Andrew beckoned him, and he followed along, soon forgetting they’d reprimanded him.

After nearly an hour had passed and they’d answered only nine of the twenty questions, Andrew eyed Chicken Alley on the map and suggested they make their escape. Hearing JJ’s disappointed protests, he relented and they kept going.

A few minutes passed with more wrong turns until finally Andrew saw another answer. “Here’s the next one,” he said. Hannah pulled out the pencil, eyed the placard, and jotted down the answer, but when they turned back, JJ hadn’t followed.

“Not again,” Hannah said, frustration ringing in her voice. “JJ, this is it. We’re leaving.”

Nothing.

Andrew knelt and peered through the stalks where the branches were sparser, but he saw no sign of JJ. “Let’s go back,” he said, hurrying down the row and around the corner.

The aisle was empty.

He spun around and headed in the other direction. “JJ!”

“JJ!” Hannah’s call reverberated through the stalks from the next row. “Do you see him?” she cried.

“No,” he said, then spotted a couple turning the corner ahead of him. “Have you seen a five-year-old boy in that direction?”

The couple shook their heads. “It’s easy to lose them in here,” the father said, shooing his two little ones ahead of them.

“You’ll find him,” the woman said as they passed.

“JJ!” Andrew bellowed.

No response again.

Hannah rushed to him, her face filled with panic. “This isn’t like him. He knew I meant business.”

“He’s here,” Andrew said, calming her, yet realizing his own fear. They darted up the next aisle, keeping track of which way they had turned. An opening to Chicken Alley was ahead, and Andrew prayed he’d find JJ there.

“JJ!” they yelled in unison. “JJ!”

Andrew halted to listen, but all he heard was his pulse throbbing in his temple.

“JJ!” Hannah screamed.

A bird fluttered from the corn stalks.

“JJ!”

Andrew listened again and heard nothing.

H
annah grasped Andrew’s arms, overcome with terror. She lowered her face into her hands, tears surging into her eyes. “I can’t take this anymore, Andrew.”

Andrew drew her into his arms. “We’ll find him, Hannah. I know you’re frightened, but it has to be something simple. He got distracted and wandered off.”

She wanted to believe him, but something inside her sent a warning signal. A mother’s instinct, maybe, but he couldn’t convince her not to worry.

“We’ll check Chicken Alley. According to the map, it’s right here on the other side of this row,” Andrew said, “and then we’ll head back the way we came. He’s probably waiting for us.”

She gazed at the stalks soaring above her head and wondered how JJ felt wandering around in them lost. Seventeen acres would be overwhelming for a five-year-old.

Andrew nudged her toward the escape route as another family appeared from the opposite direction.

“We’ve lost my son,” Hannah said. “He’s five. Did you see him?”

The woman shrugged. “We didn’t see a lost child.” She grinned at the man beside her. “But a short time ago, we watched a man carrying a boy about that age along Chicken Alley. We were just talking about it.”

“A man?” Panic heightened as Hannah feared her worst dream had come true.

“We laughed,” the man said. “The kid was kicking and squirming like he didn’t want to leave.”

Hannah gasped.

“We figured the parents had had enough corn stalks for one day,” the man said. “We’re beginning to feel the same way.”

“Do you have a photograph of JJ, Hannah?” Andrew asked, motioning to her shoulder bag.

Her hands trembled as she pulled out her wallet and the picture she carried inside it. She handed the snapshot to the couple.

“It’s hard to tell,” the woman said.

“He has a broken left arm,” Hannah said. “You would notice that.”

The man shook his head. “We saw him from the back, but he did have dark hair, kind of curly like yours.”

The woman touched her husband’s arm. “The man was medium height and stocky. He wore a plaid shirt, if that helps.”

Hannah’s heart fell. “Jack. It was Jack.”

Andrew wrapped his arm around her waist. “Don’t jump to conclusions, Hannah, please.”

“It might not be your son,” the woman said, handing her back the photo. “We’re really sorry.”

“Thanks,” Andrew said.

Hannah nodded, unable to speak. Her voice had lodged in her throat and saying the name would only re
lease her pent-up horror. Jack. His voice rang through her head.
JJ’s my son, too. I have rights to see him.
But worse, she remembered asking him what he wanted from her. His answer charged through her mind.
Whatever I can get.
Did he really want JJ that badly?

“Let’s go to the admissions booth,” Andrew said, taking her hand. “Maybe someone found him…or they’ll help us look.”

He drew her forward into Chicken Alley, and she hurried the best she could to keep step beside him.

When they neared the booth, JJ wasn’t there, and nausea crawled up Hannah’s throat. The clerk seemed busy handing out a prize to one of the customers, but Andrew didn’t wait his turn.

“We’re looking for a lost five-year-old,” Andrew said, leaning around the other man at the booth. “A boy.”

Hannah delved into her pocket and pulled out the photograph. “He looks like this.”

The customer tilted the photo in his direction. “I saw that kid a few minutes ago with a man. They were heading out, but the boy obviously didn’t want to go.”

“Jack’s kidnapped him,” Hannah said, her voice out of control.

“Kidnapped?” The clerk’s voice raised as her eyes glazed with disbelief. “We’ve never had a problem here, and we’ve been running this event for eight years.”

“It’s the boy’s father,” Andrew said, “but we need to call the police. There’s a protection order against him.”

“Maybe I was wrong,” the customer said. “Does your boy have a broken arm?”

Tears welled in Hannah’s eyes, hearing the confirmation. “Yes. His left arm.”

The man only nodded and stepped back.

The woman in the booth gasped and shoved the cell phone toward Andrew. “Do you want to call?”

“No. Please. I have a phone, but just make the call.”

Their conversation sounded distant to Hannah. The sound muffled with the hum in her ears and the thump of her heart. Her legs weakened, and she clung to Andrew’s arm.

“We’ll sit over there until the police come,” Andrew said. He supported her to a straw bale where she eased herself down.

Andrew sat beside her. “He wouldn’t hurt JJ, Hannah. He’s the boy’s father.”

She covered her face in her hands, feeling faint, and gasped for air. “He’ll do anything to get back at me. He wants money. Maybe he thinks he can get money from me to get JJ back, but he should know I don’t have any.”

“But I do, Hannah. Do you think he knows that?”

Jack’s words shot through her memory.
You have room for that new boyfriend though, huh? The rich guy.
“He knows about you. He called you a rich guy, but I don’t know if he would ask for ransom.”

Andrew wrapped his arm around her. “Money means nothing to me. I’ll do anything for JJ’s safety. Anything.”

Hannah’s hands trembled uncontrollably as she tried to insert the key in the outside lock. “Here,” she said to Andrew, handing it to him.

He took the key from her and opened the door, then followed her up the stairs. At the top, he opened the apartment door.

She’d avoided stopping to tell Claire in the shop. Why make her panic? She’d tell her later. Hannah’s prayers rose that the police would catch Jack today. He
didn’t have time to change cars, and he’d gotten away only a few minutes before they noticed JJ missing.

Then she remembered how much time they’d wasted searching for JJ in the cornstalks and waiting for the police. Jack could head toward U.S. 31 and be in Indiana or Illinois in less than two hours.

“I’m petrified,” Hannah said. “I can’t imagine what he’ll do. I want to think he won’t hurt JJ, but I don’t trust Jack anymore. He’ll do anything to get back at me.”

“I told you, Hannah, I’ll do anything in my power to get JJ back. I love the kid.”

She looked into his fear-filled eyes. “I know you do.”

She dropped her handbag on the kitchen counter and drew in a lengthy breath. “I feel as if I could sleep for a week, but I know I won’t sleep at all.”

“I’m not leaving you alone tonight. Let’s see if you can stay with Jenni or—”

“I’m not leaving here. Jack or the police may call.”

“Then we’ll get someone to stay with you. Maybe Claire. I’ll go down just before closing and tell her what happened.”

Hannah nodded. “I doubt if Jack’ll show up here, but I pray he calls.” She gestured toward the phone, and as she did, her gaze fell on the answering machine and the steady blink signaling a message. Her pulse charged as she motioned to the red flashing light.

Andrew moved closer and pressed the button. “You have one message. Message one: October twenty-second, 2:37 p.m.”

Andrew drew Hannah into his arms.

“This is Jack, Hannah,” his hoarse voice rasped through the line. “Are you happy to hear my voice?” He let out a cackle as JJ’s cry punctured the line.

Hannah gasped.

Jack’s voice became muffled, but Hannah could make out his telling JJ to shut up. “Okay, listen. If you wanna see the boy again…” His voice distorted as static crackled through the line.

“I can’t hear you,” Hannah screamed.

Andrew eased her head onto his shoulder, his breathing heavy and irregular.

“That’s the deal, Hannah. It’s in your pretty little soft hands. Me, you, JJ and that new baby can make a home together if you call off the cops. If not, JJ and I will fend for ourselves, and you’ll never see him again.” He chuckled again. “You think about it, Hannah. If you want to see our son, you’ll…” His voice faded with the bad connection, then rose in a spurt of laughter.

Then Hannah heard a click, cutting off his disturbing cackle, and she clung to Andrew, not knowing what to do or which way to turn. “I don’t know what he said. I couldn’t hear him.”

“You know what he wants, Hannah.” Desperation filled his voice.

She shook her head. “I want my son back, but I can’t live that way any—”

“We’ll call the police. They’ll come up with a plan.”

Hannah sank into a nearby chair while Andrew called the police station and relayed what had happened. When he finished, he turned on the kettle and urged her into the living room.

“I’ll fix you some tea. You need to rest,” he said as he eased her onto the sofa.

She leaned her head against the cushion, tears rolling down her cheeks in wracking sobs. Nothing would keep her from finding JJ. Visions rose in her mind of JJ’s
fright and Jack’s violence. She’d never thought that she could murder anyone, but today the thought had entered her mind.

“Forgive me, Lord,” she whispered aloud. “Give me strength and courage to bear this horrible situation. Be with JJ. Dearest Lord, keep him safe. Thank you for Andrew. What would I do without him?”

“Sorry,” Andrew said walking toward her, carrying two mugs. “I didn’t hear what you said.”

“I was praying.”

He handed her a mug, then bent down to kiss the top of her head. “I’ve been praying all afternoon. The Lord will protect him, Hannah. He has to.”

Andrew sat beside her and rested his hand on her belly. She felt the baby shift and saw the awed wonder on Andrew’s face.

“That little one is stressed out, too.” He slipped his arm around her shoulders and drew her closer. “Hannah, I’ve been thinking. I know you resent the trust-fund idea, but since you don’t want it and neither do I, what do you think about offering a ransom for JJ. You said it yourself. Jack loves money. He’ll take the money and give us back JJ.”

Hannah’s chest tightened, hearing Andrew’s words.
Give us back JJ.
Andrew’s love for her son had become so evident, so unselfish. She placed a palm on each side of his face and gazed into his eyes. “Thank you for being so generous, but you know money won’t stop Jack. It would be gone in a flash, and he’d be back for more.”

His gaze lowered, and Hannah could almost hear him thinking. When he looked at her, he rested his hands against her cheeks as his lips moved to hers. His kiss radiated sweet longing, and she felt tears well in her
eyes. When dampness dripped to her fingers, she opened her eyes and saw Andrew’s tearful sorrow.

“Hannah, I love you more than words can say. I love JJ. I pray that when he’s back you’ll reconsider my proposal. I don’t want to live without you. You, JJ and even the little one who’s been kicking at my hand mean everything to me. Please don’t answer. Just remember what I’m saying.”

I love you more than words can say.
He loved her. The words rolled over her like a balm. She’d longed to hear him say it, and today in the midst of a nightmare her dream had been answered. She answered him with a lingering kiss, then stayed in his arms, waiting for the police to arrive.

“I didn’t think anything could top Jack’s abuse, Jenni,” Hannah said, “but today has been the worst one of my life.” Her thoughts slipped back to Andrew’s words. “Still I like to think God always has a purpose for everything that happens. I don’t blame the Lord for this. I know Satan roams the earth and sways people to do wrong, but something good has come of this horrible experience.”

A puzzled look spread across Jenni’s face. “Something good?” Her voice sounded skeptical.

Hannah nodded. “Today, Andrew told me he loves me.”

Jenni’s face brightened. “He did! I knew it.” She rose from her crouched position beside Hannah. “I knew he’d tell you eventually, because it’s so obvious he loves you. Sometimes men don’t realize how much women love to hear those three little words.”

“I thought my heart would burst when he said it, but the good feeling lasted only a second until JJ filled my
mind again.” Hannah ran her fingers over her temples to soothe the pressure. “Jenni, you’re right. I have to think clearly. Where would Jack go to hide JJ?” She rose, propping up her belly with her left hand.

“Can you call someone? What about his family?”

“I never really knew Jack’s family.” But Jenni had set Hannah’s mind in motion.

Jenni picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder. “Claire should be up here in a minute.” She eyed her watch. “It’s closing time so I’ll get going, but think about those things. Jack’s friends or coworkers, maybe someone will have an idea.”

Hannah nodded, facing how little she really knew about Jack. She’d rarely met his friends and had never had a real relationship with the few family members he had. “I’ll be fine, Jenni. Thanks.”

She walked Jenni to the door and watched her descend the stairs. When she stepped outside, Hannah turned and locked the door behind her.

Can you call someone?
Jenni’s words struck her. Hannah wandered to a kitchen chair, sorting out the possibilities. Someone had to know where Jack was. She pressed her fingers against her aching eyes, then moved them to her temples. She made small circles, trying to ease the thud of her pulse.

Someone knew. Someone. Jack’s friends? She didn’t know them. His family? She didn’t know them either, except his brother. His brother. Maybe.

Hannah rose and opened the kitchen drawer. Inside, she located her personal address book. Was Jack’s brother listed? She opened the ledger and turned to the
C
s. Sam Currey. Her pulse skipped when she saw the phone number.

She stepped to the wall phone, trembling as she pushed the number pads, and held her breath as it rang. Perspiration covered her palm, yet her hands felt cold. Third ring. Fourth ring. No answering machine. Sixth ring. Seventh ring. She pulled the phone from her ear and hung up.

Later. She’d try again later. She braced her belly and pressed her free hand against her aching back as she headed through the kitchen doorway.

In the living room, she stared out the front window, looking down on Washington. Traffic was light for a Saturday evening. Reflected in the street lights, a few leaves skittered across Washington Street on the breeze, but the downtown left little room for trees and grass.