Debra Webb - Longwalker's Child

She closed her eyes and allowed the memories she would just as soon forget to flood her mind. She and Kevin were both ambitious and career oriented. They planned to marry and someday in the distant future they would have had children. They had been happy. Until the accident. And then he was gone. Lauren opened her eyes and clenched her jaw. It was bad enough that she lost the man she loved that dark, rainy night, but fate had also thrown her one final blow—the headaches. Life-altering headaches. Headaches that kept her from participating in life as she once had. That sent her scurrying away from the stress and noise of big-city living. That kept her working from a home office to reduce her stress even further. She’d even had to hire an assistant to help her do a job she had once accomplished by herself without thought.

Lauren sighed wearily and shuffled back to the hall. But she had survived, moved to Thatcher and made two very good friends, Rosemary and Sharon. Just over one year later, and at Sharon’s perpetual insistence, Lauren had started spending large chunks of time with Sarah. The knowledge that the little girl would very soon be completely alone in the world had worn away at Lauren’s resolve not to grow attached to her. Slowly but surely, the child had stolen Lauren’s heart. And now Sarah belonged to her in every sense of the word. Nothing, not even Gray Longwalker was going to change that. He would not take her away, Lauren would see to that if it was the last thing she ever did.

She took one final peek out the window before going to the kitchen. Don was a good attorney. If anyone could prevent Longwalker from breezing back into town and taking Sarah, Don could. Lauren had to trust that, otherwise she would have a heck of a time maintaining her sanity.

A pleasant aroma met Lauren when she entered the kitchen. The roast she had planned for dinner simmered in the oven. Lauren smiled and double-checked the temperature setting. She loved to cook, even if it was only for the two of them. When she had remodeled this old ranch house, Lauren had designed a large, gourmet-style kitchen. Though she rarely entertained guests, she had wanted this big, airy kitchen and she had gotten it, guests or no.

Well, there had been those few dinners with Buck. Lauren shook her head. How could she ever have believed that she would be happy with him? She couldn’t love him, she was too gun-shy to give her heart away again. Lauren threaded her fingers through her hair. Lack of confidence in herself in her new role as mother and plain old fear of the unknown had made her vulnerable to Buck’s relentless pursuit. After Sharon’s death, Lauren had somehow gotten it into her head that Sarah needed a father figure in her life. And, she admitted ruefully, she had been desperate to ensure she raised the little girl properly. After all, what did she know about raising children? She was an only child.

Thankfully, Lauren had realized in time that she didn’t need Buck or anyone else to help her love and care for Sarah. Lauren was plenty capable of doing so on her own. Buck hadn’t given up completely, though. He still called her from time to time. In fact, now that she thought about it, his efforts seemed to have increased lately.

Just what she needed, Lauren mused, another man disrupting her life. She shivered. Gray Longwalker looked man enough for two lifetimes. That strange awareness pricked Lauren at the thought of just how much man Longwalker was. So very tall, dark and…dangerous. And it wasn’t just his rumored reputation, either. There was something about him…something Lauren couldn’t quite label that made her uneasy, restless even.

She shook off the ridiculous feeling and turned her attention to the bread rising on the counter near the sink. She did not need anyone except Sarah to make her life complete. They were a family. And Lauren’s parents were thrilled about having a grandchild. Both college professors, they would be coming for a visit at spring break. Lauren smiled when she suddenly remembered Sarah’s glee at seeing snow in Chicago this past Christmas.

A wave of dizziness broadsided Lauren. She clutched the counter to steady herself, belatedly realizing she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. The dizziness passed, but the deep, heavy ache that settled on the right side of her head didn’t.

“Geez, you know better than this, Whitmore,” she grumbled. Lauren reached for the medication she kept by the sink. She hoped she hadn’t waited too late for the drug to be effective. Everything around her had spun out of control, the last thing she needed to do was let this monster rear its ugly head.

A loud knock at the front door startled Lauren. She jumped, and a few of the pills scattered across the counter. She hastily scooped up the runaway pills and dropped all but one back into the bottle.

She blew out a breath and willed herself to calm. She was letting her imagination run away with her. Lauren popped the single pill into her mouth and washed it down with the last sip of cold coffee left in her favorite mug. She grimaced at the bitter dregs, set the mug that said I Love You, Mommy down and headed into the hall to answer the door. Lord, there was nothing in the world that tasted worse than cold coffee.

She prayed it wasn’t Longwalker. Don had mentioned calling this evening, maybe he had decided to drop by instead. Lauren could use a little more of his reassuring to shore up her waning resolve. She had spent the entire afternoon pacing the floor and worrying about the situation.

“Pull yourself together, Lauren,” she chided aloud.

“Falling apart isn’t going to help.” Another knock echoed down the long hall.

“I’ll get it!” Sarah squealed.

“No!” Lauren shouted as she bolted for the door. She caught Sarah just before she opened it. “I’ll get the door. You go right back into the living room and play or watch cartoons.”

“Mom-mee,” Sarah whined. Her big eyes darkened with disappointment. As they had so few callers, the child loved answering the door when the occasion presented itself.

“Do as I say, young lady,” Lauren told her firmly. The little girl dropped her chin to her chest and trudged back into the living room. Not wanting Sarah to overhear any conversation regarding the present situation, Lauren closed the French doors behind her.

She chastised herself for being so hard on the child. They usually played games after school or watched Sarah’s favorite cartoons together, but today had been different, and Gray Longwalker was to blame. None of this was Sarah’s fault, yet the effects were already filtering down, changing Sarah’s routine. No matter how things turned out in the long run, Lauren knew that Sarah would be the one to suffer and not understand why.

The pounding came at the door again, louder this time, more insistent.

Lauren exhaled and braced herself for the worst. Surely Longwalker wouldn’t show up again today. Don had told him that all contact with her was to be made through him. But she knew deep in her heart that it was most likely him. Don wouldn’t pound on her door like that. Outside of calling the sheriff, who would be a good twenty minutes responding, she felt she had no choice but to answer the door. If it was Longwalker, she doubted he would simply go away if she didn’t answer.

The knock rattled the hinges this time. Lauren muttered an unladylike curse. What was she so worried about? Don was convinced that Longwalker couldn’t possibly really want Sarah. Once he’d had a chance to think the whole thing over, he’d surely realize that fighting over a child he didn’t even know would be far more trouble than he wanted. Once his indignation cooled, he would likely be on his way.

He was a drifter, what would he do with a child?

Feeling a boost in her confidence, Lauren pulled the door open and looked up into the very face she did not want to see. Gray Longwalker stared down at her with equal measures of wariness and impatience. She tried without success to blink away the black spots that suddenly floated before her eyes. A bolt of pain shot through her head, and she almost winced.