Nathan's Vow (16 page)

She knew Nathan was capable of that
kind of love.  But did he believe he was?

Gillian reached the address on the
slip of paper beside her and stepped into chaos.  It was always like this--cars
parked every which way, people milling about, reporters with cameras held at
bay on the front lawn.  Gillian stood on the edge of a group of technicians
setting up by a mobile van and listened.

"Damn shame they didn't find
her before dark."

"Yeah.  It might be too late. 
You know how these things go.  What if she's not lost?  What if someone took
her?"

As unobtrusively as possible,
Gillian slipped in and out among the bystanders and went around to the back of
the house.  She knocked and immediately someone answered.  The man was tall,
about thirty-five, good looking with a well-defined jaw, black hair, and
piercing brown eyes.

He gave her a swift appraisal. 
"Gillian Moore?"

"Yes.  Mr. Donovan?"

He opened the screen door for her. 
"Jake.  First names seem more appropriate in a situation like this."

When she stepped inside, he shook
her hand.  His grip was warm and firm.  Something about him was sturdy, and she
knew she had an ally if she needed one.

Gillian met the parents and learned
the lost child's name was Amy.  They showed her a picture of the blond
four-year-old with a smile that could bring sunshine to anyone's day.  As
Gillian studied the picture, she instantly felt cold.  Especially her cheek. 
She sensed darkness, brush, dampness, and saw four boulders stacked on top of
each other.  They looked unsteady, but Gillian had the feeling they'd stood
that way for decades.

"Get me something of Amy's.  A
shirt, sweater..."

As soon as she held the small
yellow sweater, her hands tingled with warmth, and she whispered, "She's
okay.  Tired and cold, but okay.  Jake, I need someone familiar with the area
to go with me."

"I know the canyons."

"Should we notify one of the
police search parties?"

"No.  I have a satellite
phone.  If we find her, I'll call it in."

"I work better when someone's
not breathing down my neck."

Jake smiled and grabbed a jacket
hanging over the back of a kitchen chair.  "Is that a warning?"

She shook her head.  "People
get anxious in situations like this.  I need the freedom to make
mistakes."

He nodded.  "Then let's get to
it."

Amy's parents begged Gillian to let
them go along.  But she advised them to wait at the house in case the search
parties found Amy first.

Jake and Gillian slipped out the
back door.  She'd worn jeans and a sweatshirt of Nathan's he'd loaned her,
knowing night in the canyons would be cool.  Besides flashlights, each of them
carried a blanket.  They didn't talk.  It was as if Jake knew instinctively
that Gillian needed to concentrate.  They crossed a street that led to wooded
areas and hills.  Gillian took one of the paths worn in the brush.  After about
a quarter of a mile at a fork in the path, she stopped and breathed and
listened.  She didn't hear the other search parties.

"They already combed this
area," Jake said matter-of-factly.

"In the dusk," she
murmured.  "They missed her."

"I don't like the sound of
that.  Is she hurt?"

"I don't think so.  I don't
get that sense.  But she is lying on the ground."

"Where to?"

"An area where there are
boulders, lots of boulders, and brush."

"Up to the left."

She nodded.  "That's what I'm
getting.  I wanted to make sure."

After they trekked another quarter
of a mile, they came to a level clearing.  Gillian held the sweater, stared
into the moonlit, and let vibrations flow.  "Four boulders, Jake.  Stacked
like a tower.  She's behind them, curled into a ball in the brush."

"This way.  I know the
spot."

Gillian heard the anticipation in
his voice, the hope, and an element of surprise that maybe she could really
find this child.  After a short distance, the shadow of the boulders fell
across sparse brush.  She hugged the small sweater to her, feeling Nathan's
sweatshirt against her skin.  The thought of him and his daughters wasn't a
distraction.  Lead by an inner radar, she strode toward the boulders with
confidence.

Circling them, she found a small
cavelike aperture.  Flashing her light inside, she saw Amy, curled against the
dropping temperature, her thumb in her mouth.  Gillian handed Jake the
flashlight and dropped down on the ground with the blanket.  When she held the
little girl in her arms, Amy's arms went around her neck.  And as Amy asked
sleepily, "Mommy?" tears came to Gillian's eyes.

She was glad she'd agreed to go
back to Nathan's.  She wanted to be with him and his daughters.  Now and
always.

Chapter
Nine

The information Nathan had fed into
the computer spewed from the laser printer.  As always, work was the solution
for insomnia.  He couldn't sleep, knowing Gillian was out in the canyons
somewhere.  Mindful of the hum of the printer, he thought back over the time
since he'd met her.  Then he examined his reactions over the past
week--gratitude to Gillian for finding Dana and Maddie, his daughters'
acceptance of Gillian in their lives, his desire for her that he couldn't seem
to banish, his jealousy on the plane, his overreaction to Linc's advice, his
need to have Gillian near him as often as possible.

None of it made sense except the
gratitude.  The rest--the emotions, the needs--were facets of himself he didn't
know.  He'd never felt jealousy with Leona.  He'd never wanted to be around her
twenty-four hours a day.  No, it didn't make sense.

Commotion outside interrupted
Nathan's analysis.  He'd been listening for Gillian's car since he'd gotten up
at one and settled in his office.  Glancing at the clock, he saw it was
one-thirty.  So what was all the noise?

He went to the window and spied at
least five sets of headlights.  "What the--?"

Hurrying to the front door, he
didn't bother to button the shirt he'd thrown on with his jeans.  As he pulled
the door open, Gillian ran up the steps, looking exhausted and upset. 

"I'm sorry, Nathan.  I didn't
realize they were following me until I turned into the hills.  I don't know how
to get rid of them."

Before he could open the screen
door to let Gillian inside, two men and a woman with microphones jammed the
steps.  The woman called, "We know your name's Gillian Moore and you led
the searchers straight to Amy.  We'll get the story from someone.  It might as
well be your version."

Another said, "I have
connections at the P.D.  Either you tell us or my source will."

"What does Jake Donovan have
to do with it?  Are you working with him?" a third reporter practically
yelled.

Bright, glaring lights shone on
both of them.  Nathan came outside and stood in front of Gillian, protecting
her from the barrage.  "This is private property, and you're
trespassing."

"Whose property is it?"
the woman asked, not taking his warning seriously.

"Turn off the lights and
cameras and I'll talk to you."

"Nathan, you don't have to do
this," Gillian said at his side.  "I don't want them to wake up Dana
and Maddie, so I'll do whatever it takes--"

Gillian had said from the beginning
that her gift caused a three-ring circus, and now he believed her.  He held up
his hand to the reporters as the lights went off.  "Give me a minute with
Ms. Moore."  When one of the lights went back on, Nathan said angrily,
"If you don't give us a few minutes, you won't get anything from either of
us."

Someone turned the light off, and
the reporters backed away for the time being.

Nathan draped his arm around
Gillian's shoulders, aware of how she fit into his body, aware of her hair
brushing his bare chest and arousing him even in this chaotic situation.  He
turned her toward the porch, his head bent close to hers, as he concentrated on
her words rather than her scent and the feel of her beside him.  "Tell me
what happened."

She did, as briefly as possible.

"You're wonderful.  You know
that?"

She tipped her head up and gave him
a weak smile.  "No.  This is just something I can do that other people
can't."  She glanced over his shoulder.  "Now, how do we get rid of
them?"

He tweaked her nose.  "How do
you feel about giving a press conference tomorrow?"

"A press conference?  Nathan,
I'm not a celebrity.  And if I give a press conference, I'll lose my privacy
altogether."

Nathan tilted his head toward the
reporters.  "I'm afraid you've lost it by finding Amy.  At least at a
press conference you can control the circus.  I'm sure Linc will help us and Jake
will support you.  Maybe the little girl's parents would answer some
questions.  It would take some of the focus away from you if that's what you
want."

"Of course that's what I
want.  I hate this."  She sighed.  "But maybe it's time not only to
face reporters but my future, too.  Okay.  Let's tell them."

Nathan squeezed her shoulder. 
"Go inside and get ready for bed.  I'll take care of everything."  He
saw she wanted to argue with him, she wanted to stand on her own, but she was
simply too tired.

Finally, giving him a nod, she went
inside, but stood  behind the screen door.  He knew she'd wait there until he
handled the reporters, until she was sure she didn't need to speak with them
herself.  Gillian Moore was one independent lady, and he admired her for it.

#

In the morning the click of the
bedroom door awakened Gillian.  She opened her eyes and ran her hand through
her hair as Nathan came in carrying a tray.  He looked better than the
scrambled eggs, bacon and toast on the breakfast plate.  His white polo shirt
was open at the neck, revealing his chest hair.  The navy shorts hugged his
hips and flat stomach.  She hardly remembered his good night last night, or
rather earlier this morning.  But she couldn't forget the brief touch of his
lips on her forehead before she'd closed the bedroom door.

"What time is it?"

"Ten."

She pushed herself up on her
elbows.  "Nathan, my goodness.  Why didn't you wake me?  I have to call
Jake--"

"I called him.  Linc is
setting everything up. Jake will be here for the press conference.  So will
Amy's father.  I also told Harriet you wouldn't be in and you'd get in touch
with her to let her know what's going on.  I didn't know how much you'd want me
to tell her."  Setting the tray on her lap, he sat beside her hip, his
thigh brushing hers under the sheet.

She tried to ignore the sensation
of being so close, so intimate.  "I'll probably tell her everything at
this point.  If it's going to be on the news....  What about Dana and Maddie? 
I hate to involve them in all this commotion."

"They'll be fine.  I'll tell
Dana she can play in her room or watch from the staircase.  I'll hold onto
Maddie.  All you're going to do is give a statement and answer a few
questions."

"You make it sound so
simple."

He grinned.  "It is.  Now
drink your juice and eat your breakfast."

"With you watching?" she
teased.

He snitched one of the four slices
of bacon and took a bite while his eyes lingered on her mouth, the pulse at her
throat, and finally on the yellow T-shirt she'd worn to bed.  "I like watching
you."

She felt her cheeks get hot.  If
the girls weren't in the house, it would be so easy to turn back the sheet,
invite him in....

He must have guessed the direction
of her thoughts because he leaned across the tray and gave her a slow,
lingering kiss that woke every cell that hadn't already awakened just from the
sight of him.

When the coffee cup on the tray
rattled, he broke the kiss and stood.  "I'd better get back downstairs
before Maddie smears jelly over everything besides the toast."  His words
were raspy as if toast and jelly were the last thing on his mind.

The taste of bacon from his lips
and tongue made her hunger for much more than breakfast.  "Thank you,
Nathan.  I can't remember the last time I had breakfast in bed.  And last night
with the reporters--"

He dismissed her thank-you with a
frown.  "I owe you.  Anything I can do to help, I'll do."

He owed her?  Is that how he saw
this?  As a payback?  She suddenly lost her appetite.  "You don't owe me
anything.  I told you before that I use my gift because I have it, not to get
payment of any kind."

"Bringing you breakfast
wasn't
payment."  His voice held irritation, and his jaw set stubbornly.

"Then what was it?" she
pressed.

"Something I felt like doing
because I thought you'd appreciate it."

"I do."

"Good."  He went to the
door and stopped.  "We should go over your statement to the press.  I'll
see you downstairs after you're dressed."

Gillian nodded.  "I won't be
long."

He closed the door with a thud.

She laid her head against the
pillow and felt like crying.  Nathan wasn't about to admit to any feelings,
even if he had them.  Sighing, she picked up her juice and took a few sips. 
All of a sudden, she shivered.  A picture popped into her head, the same
picture she'd gotten in France--Nathan embracing Leona.

What did it mean?

#

Nathan's living room looked more
like a movie set than a place to relax.  But that could be expected with
microphones and lights and cameras.  He winked at Dana, who waved from the
staircase, and hitched Maddie higher in his arms as she watched the cameraman
in fascination.  Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Gillian rubbing her
palms on her jeans, then making sure the collar of her red blouse lay in a
proper V at her throat.

Jake placed one of his large hands
on her shoulder.  "Relax.  You did something good, Gillian.  Just give
them the facts."