Apple Blossom Bride. Lois Richer

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      “It’s an awfully long drive to make alone, Ash.”

      “It’s the only way. I can’t fly. Last time was horrible.”

      Piper sighed. “I was hoping you were getting over those panic attacks.”

      “Some days I think I am. Then something happens and it starts all over again.”

      “That’s an even better reason to come to the Bay. You know you’re safe here.”

      Not quite true, but Ashley wasn’t going to get into it. She promised to call Piper every night she was on the road, then hung up. Because her ankle ached she sank onto the sofa she’d bought with her first paycheck, the one Kent hated so much—the one she loved because to her the pale-blue suede said home. She gazed at her watercolor of Serenity Bay.

      Would she be safe there?

      She was older now, had learned how to take precautions. Therapy had helped her deal with the panic attacks. But most importantly, he wasn’t there anymore. She’d been back to the Bay several times and never once had she seen the man who’d grabbed her that spring afternoon so long ago.

      Thinking about him made her anxious, so Ashley closed her eyes and let daydreams of happier times take over—until the familiar nightmare cut in. Then she rose and changed into her nightgown. From the vial in her purse she took out one of the sedatives that would guarantee a deep, dreamless sleep and swallowed it.

      Snuggled into bed, she refocused on Serenity Bay and the good times she’d once found on its shores.

      Michael Masters gazed at the cherubic face of his sleeping daughter. Tatiana was so small, yet she held his heart in that grubby little fist.

      He touched a fingertip to the cloud of hair as dark as his own, felt the silken texture of one fat curl wrap against his skin. He’d never imagined he would experience weak knees and palpitations all because of one four-year-old girl.

      Lest he disturb her afternoon nap, he tiptoed from the room, monitor in hand. If she made a squeak he’d be back in here in three seconds. But he hoped she’d nap for an hour, long enough that he could get some work done.

      His studio, if you could call it that, was at the back of the house, far from her room. It was an addition roughly thrown together, a place to work in his spare time.

      Spare time. Ha! A joke. There was never any spare time, not since Tati had whirled into his life.

      Michael stepped inside the room, breathed in. Pine, spruce, cedar—they mingled together into a woodsy blend that made his fingertips itch to get to work. Once he’d checked the volume on the monitor, he set it on his work table, picked up the oak piece he’d begun two weeks ago and grabbed a chisel. In his mind he visualized what he wanted to create, then set about releasing the face from the wood, bit by hardened bit.

      He was almost finished the left side when it dawned on him that he’d heard nothing from Tatiana’s room. He glanced at his watch, blinked.

      Two hours? Tati had never slept that long in all the time she’d been with him, no matter how he tired her out.

      He set down his chisel, touched the wood with one scarred thumb, then placed the carving on the table, too. As he made his way quietly through the house he chastised himself for not being a better father. Maybe Serenity Bay wasn’t the best place for his daughter to grow up. Sure, his mom was here and she’d gladly offered all the mothering one small grandchild could want, but Serenity Bay was the back of nowhere. There was no ballet school or children’s theater here. Maybe Tati was missing out on something.

      He pushed open the door of her room, ready to tease her awake.

      His heart dropped like a stone.

      The bed was empty.

      He scanned the room, noticed her shoes were missing, as well as her doll. The window was pushed up, curtains fluttering in the warm autumn air. Surely she hadn’t gone outside by herself?

      Oh, Lord, keep her safe.

      He raced through the house, then outside around the back to the window of her room. Tiny footprints had rearranged the flowers he’d so painstakingly planted last spring, but Michael didn’t care about that.

      “Tati?”

      His heart hit overdrive as he pushed through the woods, found her hair band on the other side of the bridge. Thanks to a dry summer the creek down here wasn’t much more than a trickle, but farther up… He raced along the trail until he came to the old stone church he worshipped in every Sunday.

      Where was she?

      He stood for a moment, eyes narrowed, assessing the view. Finally his heart gave a bump of relief when he spotted the familiar dark curls beneath the apple tree. She had her doll with her, the one her mother had given her. A red wagon, the one Tati dragged everywhere she went, was turned upside down, forming a stool for her bottom.

      Anxious not to scare her, he fought to control his breathing as he listened to her discussion with the beautiful bride doll she never let out of her sight.

      “You mustn’t run away again, Princess,” she said in soft admonishing tones. “Daddy doesn’t like it and Mommy can’t follow you. I know the other children come here sometimes and you want to play with them, but you have to ask me first.”

      His words exactly. So she knew she was in the wrong.

      “Tati?” He stepped closer, crouched down beside her. “What are you doing here?”

      “Playing. Princess and I like to catch the leaves. You know, Daddy, for our book.” She pointed to a stack of curled up reddish leaves spread out at her feet.

      He remembered the big books she’d stacked on the floor. Ah. Presumably there were leaves between the pages. He’d have to take them off the shelf and put them back before she discovered he’d moved them.

      At the moment there were more important concerns.

      “Yes, your book is nice. But Tati, you know very well that you are not allowed to come here by yourself.”

      “I wasn’t alone, Daddy. Princess was with me.” She blinked that guileless expression that punched him right in the gut. “You didn’t say Princess couldn’t come, Daddy.”

      “I didn’t say you could come. I said you had to ask me before you went anywhere. You didn’t ask. That’s disobeying.” Michael struggled to keep himself from weakening when those big brown eyes met his. Staying firm with her was the hardest part of being a father. “I was worried about you when I saw that you weren’t in bed, Tatiana.”

      “I wasn’t tired anymore and a bird was calling. I’m sorry, Daddy.”

      “I know you are. But that isn’t the point.” He brushed the curls off her forehead, tipped her head up so he could look into her eyes. “It’s dangerous to go through the woods yourself, especially in the fall. Sometimes there are animals around. That’s why I said you have to ask me.”

      “Okay, СКАЧАТЬ