RaeAnne Thayne - Coming Home For Christmas

Instead, she simply nodded.

“Lucky you,” the woman said with a grin. “I’m Lindsey Lowell, and this is my little girl, Aubrey.”

“Hi, Aubrey. Hi, Lindsey. I’m...Sonia Davis.”

She caught a little on the name that had been given to her seven years ago. Even after a few hours, she was already back to being Elizabeth in her head.

“Hi,” Aubrey said. “I’m this many.”

She held up two fingers and Elizabeth smiled. “That’s big. What are you playing?”

“Balloons. I share.” The girl held out the phone for Elizabeth.

“Um. Thanks.” She wasn’t quite sure what to say or do.

“I show you.” Without waiting for permission, Aubrey climbed from her mother’s lap to Elizabeth’s, demonstrating how to pop the balloons on the phone app.

“Aubrey. Honey. Come back.”

“No. It’s fine,” Elizabeth said. She didn’t have the chance to interact with an adorable little girl very often. If nothing else, it would give the pregnant mom a break for a moment.

A few moments later, she was engrossed in the girl, who delighted in showing her how to blow the balloons up bigger and make them float across the screen, then how to pop them rather violently with a finger.

It was actually calming in a zen sort of way, a little like playing with Bubble Wrap.

“Pretty,” Aubrey exclaimed, clapping her hands when Elizabeth inflated a purple balloon until it filled the whole screen. The girl pointed her chubby little index finger at the phone and popped it with a relish that made Elizabeth smile.

She was so busy playing with the girl, she didn’t notice Luke return until she suddenly sensed his presence. She looked up in time to see something dark flash across his expression.

She had rarely played with their own children like this. She had wanted to, had ached to be the mother they needed, but the dark emptiness had been overwhelming.

We would all be better off without you.

The memory of those words coming from his mouth was as crystal clear as if he had said them moments earlier.

How funny that she still had many gaps in her memory but that one was so distinct. She could see the pain in his eyes, hear the frustration in his voice as he said them.

She had goaded him into it during one of her terrible days, had begged him over and over again to admit it.

He hadn’t wanted to but she had finally worn him down. Fine. You want me to say it? Right now it’s true. We would all be better off without you.

She hadn’t been able to be the wife he needed during those four years or a mother for their children.

There had been good days during that time; she was certain of it. Before she got pregnant with Bridger, she had tried so hard to be a good mother to Cassie, but she knew the bad times had far outnumbered the good.

“Our room is ready,” he said gruffly.

She didn’t want to go with him. She wanted to stay here in this lobby, surrounded by noise and chaos and children.

“Goodbye, Lindsey. It was...nice to meet you. Safe travels to you and...good luck with your little one.”

“Thank you. Goodbye, Sonia.”

Luke’s mouth tightened at the name. He looked at the woman and the bags surrounding her. “Do you need help carrying your things to your room?”

“No. We didn’t bring much and my husband can carry what we have. Thank you, though.”

Elizabeth rose and followed Luke across the lobby to an elevator in an alcove next to the fireplace.

“You’re back to Sonia again?” he asked after pushing the button for their floor.

She didn’t like feeling defensive. She hadn’t chosen to use a different name. Circumstances had been thrust upon her without her knowledge or consent. “It’s been my name for seven years. Elizabeth... She seems like a different person.”

He didn’t say anything more as he led the way to the third floor and down the hall to their room.

He unlocked the door and held it open for her. It was a comfortable space, far more so than she had feared they would end up sharing. The furniture looked new, two queen beds made out of honey-colored pine and covered in lodge-look comforters. There was even space for a small sitting area with a sofa and easy chair.

As far as hotel rooms went, this one was fairly large. Still, unless it was the size of a ballroom, any place would still be too small for her to be comfortable spending several hours alone with Luke in it.

He set their luggage down. “Do you need something to eat or will the sandwiches we bought earlier do? The front desk clerk said they have vending machines and there’s a restaurant still open next door.”

“I’m not hungry,” she answered. “But if I need something, a sandwich is fine.”

He stood for a moment, big and rangy and obviously as unenthusiastic as she was about being trapped in this hotel room together.

“I left my phone in the truck. I’m going to grab it and maybe make a few calls down in the lobby. I’ll try to stay out of your way.”

Before she could answer, he turned around and headed out of the hotel room, leaving her alone once more.

He closed the door outside the hotel room, aware he had just blatantly lied to his wife. His phone wasn’t in the truck; it was in his pocket. He had used the phone only as an excuse so he wouldn’t have to sit in that hotel room with Elizabeth either in silence or in stilted, awkward conversation.

He wanted to spend as little time as possible with her. It was bad enough that he had been trapped with her for the last four hours. He needed a little distance to get his head back on straight.

He headed down to the lobby, which was still chaotic but not quite as frenzied as it had been when they arrived. While he was tempted to go to the restaurant next door and see if they had a bar attached, he knew that wouldn’t solve anything.

He didn’t drink much, his answer to growing up with an abusive alcoholic for a father. Sometimes he longed for the oblivion, but he feared what would happen once he started down that road.

Instead, he managed to find a relatively quiet corner and sat for a minute checking his email and messages. Nothing was urgent, only a few scheduling conflicts with subcontractors on a couple of the houses he was building in Shelter Springs. He could deal with them after he returned to town.

That done, he finally checked the time and saw it was 8:00 p.m., not too late to talk to the kids.

His sister had called him three times that day and he had sent each to voice mail, not up to the battle he knew would ensue, but she needed to know he wouldn’t be back that night.

Megan answered on the second ring. “Luke. It is about time you called. I’ve been worried sick! What is going on? Where are you?”

“Stuck in central Oregon. We ran into a storm and won’t be back until morning.”

“We?”

He sighed. “Elizabeth. I told you I was coming to get her.”

“Wrong. You told me nothing. Less than nothing. I’ve had just about enough of men and their cryptic explanations today.”

That must mean Elliot Bailey was still busy with his latest undercover investigation for the FBI. He’d been gone three weeks and Megan wasn’t happy about the situation, especially when they were supposed to marry in less than a month.

“You can’t just drop the kids off and announce you’re going after Elizabeth, then walk out the door before I can ask any questions,” she said.

He hadn’t been fair to his sister. He had known that as soon as he drove away. His only excuse had been that he’d reacted out of anger and frustration after Cade Emmett called him early that morning, what seemed a lifetime and hundreds of miles ago. The Haven Point police chief called to warn him the new county district attorney, a temporary appointment until the next election, was preparing to file charges against him in the disappearance and presumed murder of his wife.