Gayle Wilson - Wednesday's Child

“Is that all she’s staying?” Lorena looked up from the act of slipping a slice of tomato onto the ham. “Seems like it would take longer than that to work out the arrangements.”

“Actually, I don’t know how long she’ll be in town. We didn’t discuss it in detail. And she may decide she wants something more modern after tonight.”

“Maybe I can convince her to stay,” Lorena said, fitting the second piece of bread on top. “I think hot tea, don’t you? I’ve got some chamomile. That should help her sleep.”

“Judging by her eyes—” Jeb began and then stopped.

He’d been about to say that she would be tired enough to sleep without any of his aunt’s herbal remedies. When he remembered what Susan Chandler had been through today, he thought she might appreciate something to help remove the images that must be in her mind.

“What about her eyes?”

“Like I said. She looked exhausted. More emotionally than anything else, maybe, but…I think she’d like that tea.”

His great-aunt reached over and turned the gas on beneath the kettle that always sat in the exact same place on the back of the stove. “Did you show her where the extra quilts are? There’s supposed to be a cold snap, either tomorrow or Sunday.”

“Why don’t you wait until you find out whether she’ll be staying that long before you go worrying about extra cover. She’ll be fine tonight.”

“Maybe I should spoon up some of that peach cobbler.”

“You don’t even know if she’s eaten, Lorena. Why don’t you ask her about dessert before you carry it up?”

The kettle began to whistle, putting an end to his attempt to rein in his great-aunt’s innate hospitality. There was some part of him that welcomed the idea that Susan Chandler’s stay in the house would end after tonight. Another part admitted a degree of interest in her plans that went beyond casual curiosity. She was an extremely attractive woman. Woman being the operative word. At thirty-five, Jeb wasn’t interested in someone who thought JFK referred only to an airport.

Susan Chandler was probably a few years younger than he. Late twenties, early thirties, maybe. Her fair skin showed little signs of aging, but with that dark auburn hair, she would have had no choice but to stay out of the sun.

Physically, she wasn’t the type he was normally attracted to, both taller and thinner than he preferred. Even as that negative assessment formed, he rejected it.

Given his profession, he’d never been interested in long-term relationships. He had judged women he became involved with on their willingness to accept that. As well as on their physical attributes, he admitted. Something he wasn’t particularly proud of. Not considering his present situation.

Despite Susan Chandler’s ability to mask her initial feeling of pity, he’d been aware of it. And the look in her eyes wasn’t one he wanted to see in a woman he was attracted to.

“There now,” Lorena said, stepping back to admire the tray she’d prepared. “What do you think?”

“I think she’s damn lucky Wayne Adams sent her here.”

“Don’t you curse, Jubal Bedford,” Lorena scolded, although it was obvious the compliment pleased her. “Remember, you’re an officer and a gentleman.”

So far, he thought. So far.

“IT’S A BED-AND-BREAKFAST on the outskirts of Linton,” Susan said into her cell phone. “There isn’t a motel around here, but this will do for the time being.”

“Are you sure you don’t want Dave to come down?” her sister asked. “You know he’s more than willing.”

“Dave’s place is there with you, taking care of my very precious nephew.”

After years of trying, including more expensive in vitro attempts than they could afford, Charlotte had finally conceived. Although the pregnancy had been difficult, she was only a couple of weeks away from delivery now. And no one, including her doctor, believed she would go that long.

“I just hate to think of you doing all that by yourself.”

“I’m fine. Just tired. A little overwhelmed with the thought of the possibilities.”

Although she and Charlotte had already discussed the fact that Emma had not been in the car when it was found, Susan hadn’t shared the information about the open door. She had decided there was no point in doing that until the sheriff had had time to confirm whether it had been open when the crane had pulled the SUV from the river.

“And you really think Emma might still be in that town?”

“All I know is that for some reason Richard was here. I need to know what he was doing in such an out-of-the-way area. That’s one thing I need to find out. And maybe then…” She hesitated. “Maybe if someone here remembers seeing him, then—”

“They might have seen Emma, too,” Charlotte said softly.

“She has to be somewhere. God knows I’ve already asked everyone any of us ever knew and gotten nowhere.”

“Well, you keep us informed, you hear? If you don’t call me every day, I swear I’m going to send Dave down there whether you like it or not. And you take care of yourself.”

“I will. You, too. Take care of you and my sweet Davey.”

“He’s fine. We’re both going to be fine. I can feel it,” Charlotte said with a laugh. “Everybody’s so uptight about all this, and I swear, Suz, I’m gonna breeze right through this delivery and pop this baby out quicker than anyone ever has before. Maybe I don’t get them or carry them worth a damn, but I’m gonna be spectacular at birthing them.”

At the joy and confidence in her sister’s voice, tears welled in Susan’s eyes. “I know you will. I’m counting on you, sweetie. We all are.”

“You call me, you hear?”

“I will. Don’t worry.”

“Any news, good or bad, I want to know. Don’t you two try to protect me. I need to know everything.”

“No, I won’t,” Susan promised, “but…” She hesitated again, wondering if this was something she could share, even with someone she was so close to.

“Suz? You still there?”

“You know how you said you knew the delivery would go well?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s the way I feel, Charlotte. She’s here. I know it. I couldn’t tell you how I know that to save my life, but I do.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the line before her sister’s voice, filled with love and concern, came across it. “Honey, don’t you let this break your heart. You can’t. Not again. You just take care of you. Try not to get your hopes up too much. There’s always the possibility…”

Her sister’s warning faded, but the unspoken message was clear. Just because Richard’s body had been found didn’t mean Emma was here. Or even that she was still alive. Most people would argue that the discovery of her father’s body would indicate exactly the opposite.

“I know, but…I have to try.”

“I know. Just remember that all kinds of things could have happened. Seven years is a very long time.”

An eternity in the life of a child. In Emma’s case, the only part of it that she would remember. Whatever had happened during those first fourteen months would have been long forgotten. All the scraps of memory Susan had cherished would mean nothing to her daughter.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Susan said, unwilling to let her sister’s warning interfere with her surety. “Sleep tight.”

“Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

They must have said the same silly rhyme thousands of nights, lying side by side in their twin beds. Tonight, with so much riding on the events of the next few days—for both of them—the familiar words were comforting, providing the same web of love and protection Charlotte and David would give their son from the instant of his birth. The kind that unless Susan found her, she could never be sure that Emma had ever known at all.