Always The One

She tilted her head. “Really?”

“Yes,” he lied.

While she continued to read him, he led her in the direction of the beach. “Yes, I’ve always been in love with her. And yes, I’ll continue to love her. But by her silence, Hannah’s made it clear she doesn’t feel the same way. I’ve tried to find her. Failed.” He ran a shaky hand over his closely cropped hair. “Maybe Dylan is right. It’s time to move on.”

A bright sheen brightened his mother’s eyes in the bonfire light. “I know how much this hurts.”

It did. Every day. But it didn’t change reality.

He swallowed hard. Forced himself to believe the words he was about to say. “I’m ready. Probably should have been years ago.”

“You never gave up hope.”

“Sometimes hope isn’t enough.”

At those words, his mother tightly hugged him. Then she stepped back and wiped her cheeks. “I’m happy about your decision. And that you’ll be here for the wedding.”

“I have vacation time coming. And believe it or not, I’m happy you found James.” He lifted his chin in the direction of her fiancé. “Go enjoy your night.”

“You promise you’ll be okay?”

“Promise.”

She frowned. “I worry about you. You talk a good game…”

“Go.”

At his directive, she made her way back to James, the smile from earlier returning to her lips.

He glanced around the crowd, catching glimpses of his brothers and their girlfriends. He was the odd man out here. He’d head back to DC early, get some paperwork done and take off on his unwelcome vacation. It was going to be a long six weeks, but what choice did he have? Sit around his apartment and mope? The idea of a solo trip didn’t appeal, but he realized that maybe he was better off alone in the long run. In life.

On that sobering thought, Derrick made his way to the water’s edge to escape the pervading good cheer. The surf rolled in at a steady pace as he approached. The scent of burning wood and wet sand should have relaxed him, but as he stared out over the dark horizon, his mind traveled elsewhere.

Usually he kept himself so busy at work that he didn’t have time to dwell on the past. The pace in DC was hectic, and in his position as a special agent with the Federal Bureau of Investigation, he took every case he could. But coming here to Florida brought back memories he’d tried to block over the years. Even as they faded to black-and-white.

He and Hannah had come up with the idea to get married while they were at the beach, shortly after high school graduation. Hannah had been talking about college and how she didn’t want them to be separated and before he knew it, they’d hatched a plan. It had been a night much like this, filled with promise and joy, but they’d been alone instead of in a crowd like the folks gathered here to celebrate with his mother. Seemed like it had always been him and Hannah against the world. He’d liked it that way. Didn’t need anyone else and neither did she.

Excitement had gleamed in her eyes. She’d thrown herself into his arms for a kiss that sealed the deal. Two months until their birthdays and then they’d make things official.

Until fate decided otherwise.

He let out a sigh as he heard someone approach. He looked over his shoulder and spotted Dylan walking his way.

“You going to be able to make it back in time for Mom’s wedding?” his brother asked.

“Looks like I’ll have to now.”

“Because you cheated.”

He canted his head. “Like that’s a shocker.”

Dylan chuckled. “You can get time off?”

“Turns out I’ve accrued a month and a half worth of vacation time my superior is hounding me to take. He hates paperwork and wants me to lighten his load by going, in his words, anywhere.”

“Have you made plans?”

“I was thinking about hitting the road.” Dante had restored and modified a classic ’67 Challenger for Derrick. The same car that was a piece of junk when he’d arrived in Hannah’s driveway the day he’d discovered her gone…

He’d jumped out of the car. Run up the brick path to the front door and rung the bell. Could barely keep still from the excitement coursing through him. After a few minutes of silence, he’d pressed the button again. And again. He’d moved to the large picture window and cupped his hands around his eyes to peer into the dark recesses of the house before stepping from the porch to walk around the house. No one out back. Stumped, he noticed the next-door neighbor watering her flowers.

“Hey, Mrs. Gaines. Have you seen Hannah around?”

The older woman frowned. “Heard noises last night. Couldn’t sleep, so I looked out the window to see who was making the ruckus. The family got in the car and took off.”

That couldn’t be right. “In the middle of the night?”

“There were some official-looking men telling them to hurry. Hannah and her mother were crying but they were pushed in the car and left.”

Gone? Just like that?

“But…”

The neighbor shrugged. “Can’t tell you any more than that.”

Derrick jerked when his brother spoke.

“I asked where you’re headed.”

He shook off the memories, including how his actions, and his father’s, in retrospect probably set events in motion. Maybe if it had been a normal breakup—still not a great scenario—he would have had closure. But his nature, to find answers, kept him hooked.

“No destination in mind. Just get in the car and drive.”

“Need a wingman? For part of the trip?”

“Nah. I’m good.” He gazed over the water. “You’re right, Dylan. It’s time to let go. Maybe on this trip I can finally get rid of baggage from the past.”

Dylan clamped his shoulder. “It’s a good idea.”

Derrick thought so, even if his heart cracked a little bit deeper.

MONDAY MORNING HE was back in his office, finishing the last of his stack of paperwork. His superior, Ron Collins, popped into Derrick’s office.

“I thought you were leaving today.”

“I am. Just wanted to clear my desk before taking off.”

“You do have plans, right?” Ron asked, hope in his eyes.

Derrick laughed. “Yes. I’ll be gone until next month. My mother is getting married in February and after that, I’m all yours again.”

“Look, I know I sound like a broken record, but it was either remind you about your accrued vacation time or you lose it.”

“It’s fine. I needed the push.”

Ron nodded at the computer screen. “You tied up the museum case?”

“Yep.” He rifled through the papers on his desk to find the printed report. “Here you go.”

“Nice job.”

“Thanks.”

“And Derrick?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Enjoy your time off.”

Derrick allowed a small smile. “Will do.”

Once he’d finished the last report, he gathered his mail from the corner of his desk. He tossed a few envelopes aside until he came upon a bulky 3 x 5 package. His name was scrawled across the front in a flowery script. Definitely not official. The return address came from Nevada. He didn’t recall knowing anyone from there. Curious, he ripped the package open and peered inside. No paper. He tipped it upside down and out tumbled a small red gem, about the size to fit an expensive women’s ring. When the late morning sunlight from his office window reflected off the gem, his breath caught in his throat.

He took a pen from the holder and pushed the cut stone closer. Leaned down to inspect it better. A flash of memory jolted him and he sat back in the chair—multiple stones scattered on Hannah’s father’s desk. Hannah asking him not to tell anyone what he saw.

Could this be a signal from Hannah?

He grabbed the envelope and scanned the return address again. Dark Clay, Nevada.

He swiveled in his chair and typed the name into the computer. Found the location about twenty miles outside Carson City near Lake Tahoe.

His heart started pumping wildly. Finally. After all these years. A connection. Was this Hannah’s way of contacting him? And why now?

Did it matter?

No.

He picked up his phone and booked the next available flight to Reno-Tahoe International.

SOMEONE WAS WATCHING Hannah Rawlings. Or, Anna Rawley, as she was currently known. She was sure of it.

She’d been on the run long enough to recognize when the little hairs on the back of her neck were warning her, not acting up because of the biting wind. She walked around the playground of Ponderosa Day School, avoiding patches of ice as she pulled her wool coat more snugly around her. It had rained just after the morning bell and since then the temperature had dipped close to freezing. The sun barely peeked out from the cloud cover. Shivering, she watched her students, but her eyes flitted around the schoolyard. Nothing out of the ordinary for a Tuesday. But still, she couldn’t shake the strange feeling.

“Miss Rawley, Tommy threw snow at me.”

She glanced down to find William staring up at her. She controlled her exasperation. What was it with boys, always tussling and one-upping each other? She crouched down to his level, her heart squeezing at his mournful expression.

Teaching ten-year-old children required a patience level and skill she never thought she’d need.

“What happened?”

“You know the pile of snow in the corner? Chuck was kicking it with his boots and then Tommy scooped it up and made snowballs.”

“I thought you boys were playing a game?”

He nodded, his blue eyes solemn behind glasses. “We were. It was my turn with the ball, but Tommy took it from me and then started throwing snow at me.”

As usual, Tommy made his own rules.

“I’ll talk to him.”

William’s face lit up. “You’re the best.” He turned and ran back to a group of boys.

“Hardly,” she muttered under her breath. Not when she wondered every day why she was getting dressed to go to school and teach a class full of rambunctious fourth graders. Not exactly her grand plan, but then, nothing had turned out the way she’d dreamed.

But once she arrived, the kids reminded her why she loved being around them. Their optimism and energy filled her with a sense of hope she hung on to daily.

Rising, she stuffed her gloved hands in her coat pockets and watched the boys work out their problems just before the bell rang. The students hurried to line up. Taking one last look around the schoolyard, Hannah searched for the source of her uneasiness. No adults hung around the fence. The cars in the parking lot belonged to teachers or support staff. Even the cars along the street were a normal part of the landscape.

Okay, so she was overreacting. Wouldn’t be the first time.

The next couple of hours dragged on as Hannah finished her day. The black slacks and white sweater she’d dressed in that morning did little to keep her warm. Despite the heated classroom, she couldn’t seem to stop shivering. She was exhausted by the time the kids had been released and she was free to leave. As she took her keys in her right hand, she remembered her earlier prickliness and clutched the pocket-size container of pepper spray attached to the ring. With the other hand she gripped her leather tote bag, ready to head home to check on her mother and then relax with a strong cup of tea. She made her goodbyes to her colleagues and walked to the parking lot.

A frigid late-afternoon wind whistled around her. Pine trees swayed, the needles rustling, cones dropping to the icy ground with a thud. Clouds hadn’t left the sky since she’d been outside earlier. Patches of crusty snow lingered along the curb from the storm a few days earlier. She shrugged deeper into her coat, wishing she’d remembered a hat. In the five years she’d lived here, she’d never gotten used to winter in Nevada.

Her car came into view. Hannah scanned the lot, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Silly, really. No one had bothered her in a long time. Still, the years of drills were seared into her muscle memory, most of them unnecessary. Heaving out a laugh, she reined in her imagination.

In her haste to cross the lot, her boots slid on an ice patch but she righted herself before wiping out. Carefully navigating her steps, she finally made it to her car. Relieved, she pressed the button to unlock the door. Her hand had just settled on the silver handle when she heard rapid footsteps on the asphalt behind her. She tensed. Continued to open the door.

Almost there.

She tossed the tote inside just as she heard, “Hannah.”

Shock enveloped her. No one had called her that name in over fifteen years.

A presence drew up beside her. Panicked now, she turned, lifted the canister in her hand and aimed at the deepest blue eyes she’d ever seen…a color she’d never forgotten.

CHAPTER TWO

DERRICK RECOILED AS Hannah’s hand rose, a small pepper spray canister in her grasp. She wasn’t really going to… Flinging his hands in the air, he ducked, then slipped on the ice, his feet skidding out from under him, arms flailing as he dropped with a loud whoosh.

Thankfully the fall kept him from the full force of the spray, but the dose that did reach his eyes made him cringe. He sucked in a sharp breath at the combination of burning eyes and skin on fire. His right hip took the brunt of contact with the solid ground, but he managed to roll and scramble upright again. Through the stinging tears, he saw Hannah, eyes wide, mouth open.

“Derrick?” she whispered.

He rapidly blinked his stinging eyes, flushing the pepper spray as best he could, and tried to ignore the jolt of pain radiating through his body.

His vision may be blurry, but he saw enough to know Hannah was still as achingly beautiful as he remembered. Her usually curly auburn hair was pulled back into a tight knot, her hazel eyes still as luminous as ever as they stared back at him. In disbelief, if he had to gauge her reaction. Her skin was like ivory, but he couldn’t miss the dark circles under her eyes. She was tall. Willowy.

He couldn’t stop the racing of his heart as he stood mere inches from her.

“Oh my gosh. I thought…” She stepped closer. “Are you okay?”

“I will be once I can see again.”

“I was sure someone was watching me.”

“Guilty as charged,” he mumbled.

She reached into her car and returned with tissues. Stuffed them in his hand. “If I had known…”

Derrick gently dabbed at his eyes. “How could you?”

“True, but I…” She leaned over, peering into his face. “It doesn’t look too bad.”

It wasn’t. He’d been sprayed full-on in training and knew he’d survive this attack. Still, the burning sensation was not receding.

“I scared you. It was my fault.”

“Should we go inside so you can flush the spray out?”

He blinked again, his vision clearing. “I’ll be fine.”

She looked doubtful, but instead asked, “Derrick. It’s really you?”

“In the flesh.” He balled up the tissue and stuck it in his pocket.

Her eyebrows angled together, the shock of seeing him finally hitting home. “How…how did you find me?”

“I got your street address from the package you sent. No one answered at your house, but a neighbor walking his dog told me where you work when I mentioned that I was an old friend.”

She reared back. “That’s impossible.”

“You sent the gem so I’d find you.”

“Derrick, I never sent you anything.” She paused, clearly confused.

“Then who?”

“I don’t know.” She reached out to grab the open car door. “Right now, I’m needed at home.”

He placed his hand on her arm to stop her. She sucked in a breath and jerked away. “I’m not sure what’s going on,” he told her, “but I’m not leaving until I do.”

“Fine. We can have this conversation at my place.”

“I’ll follow you.”

She nodded, then ducked into her sedan. He strode back to his rental car, thankful the limited amount of pepper spray hadn’t incapacitated him enough to keep him from driving. Firing up the engine, he saw Hannah pull onto the street. He eased out of his spot, baffled and a lot disappointed.

No excited pronouncements of You found me. I’ve missed you for so long. Finally, we can be together. I never stopped loving you.

Instead he got, I never sent you anything.

Then how did that explain the stone delivered to his office? Her return address on the envelope? She was truly shocked to see him. Not surprising since it had been seventeen years since they’d known each other. Still, what had he expected? Angelic music from above and scattered rose petals leading a path to his one true love? That she’d run into his arms as if no time had passed at all? Not happening, apparently, but he’d hoped she’d at least be as excited as he was by the reunion.

The nagging feeling that she hadn’t wanted him to find her struck again. Why? What had she been doing all these years? Despite her reluctance to speak with him, he wasn’t going anywhere until he had answers.

Ten minutes later they pulled up to a ranch-style house in a neighborhood that had seen better days. The faded tan paint needed a touch-up. The grass, if you could call the brown stuff peeking out from under patches of snow, that could use the expertise of a good gardener. Of course, it was winter and grass tended to be dormant, but somehow Derrick suspected the neglected appearance was more about a lack of time and priorities than the season.

A long leg exited the car and soon Hannah was purposefully striding up the path to the front door. He parked behind her and made tracks to follow before she shut him out. A wave of heat smacked him as he stepped inside the house, igniting his burning skin again.

At first glance, the living room was cozy. An overstuffed couch and matching armchair took up most of the space, along with a large-screen television and a few end tables. Hannah was busy taking off her coat, not meeting his gaze. He shrugged out of his jacket. Waited.

“The bathroom is down the hall. First door on the right.”

“Thanks.” He hurried to the sink, rinsing the lingering pepper spray from his face. The skin around his glassy eyes was red, but splashing the water removed any residual effects. He dried his face with a towel and went back to the living room.

Hannah had the bay window curtain pulled back and was staring outside. When she heard him, she twirled around.

“Better?”

He nodded.

Crossing the room, she brushed by him to look down the dim hallway, the scent of vanilla enveloping him as she passed. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, she turned and repeated in a quiet tone, “How did you find me?”

“The red stone, Hannah. You sent it to me.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t send you anything. I don’t even know where you live.”

“It was sent to my workplace.”

She held out her hands and lifted her shoulders. “I don’t know that, either. I know nothing about your life.”

Ouch.

“It was one of the four gemstones your father had in his possession.”

She closed her eyes and ran a hand over her face. “The collection that ruined our lives.” She lowered her hand. Stared hard at him. “Because of you.”

“I never got a chance to talk to you.” He took a step toward her. “You were gone.”

A harsh laugh escaped her lips. “You have no idea what you did.”

“Then tell me.”

“What, you show up here out of the blue years after my family had to give up everything and assume I’m going to chat you up like we’re long-lost friends?”

“We’re more than that.”

“We were. Not any longer.”

The sharp words aimed at his heart did their damage.

She waved a hand in his direction. “It doesn’t matter what happened. The bottom line is, you can’t be here.”

“Why not?”

“You don’t know?”

“No. Why do you think I’m standing here asking questions?”

She began to pace the length of the living room. “You have no idea why we left?”

“As far as everyone was concerned, your family just disappeared in the night. No one knew why.”

She stopped. “Even your father?”

Old wounds tore open at the mention of his dad. “If he did, he never said.”

“And you didn’t ask him before making this trip to find me?”

The lingering guilt and pain swamped him. “He died, Hannah.”

She stopped, her face softening. “I’m sorry.”

He nodded, swallowing around the obstruction in his throat. “I’ve been trying, without luck, to find you for years.”

“There’s a reason you had no luck.”

“Which is?”

“I didn’t want you to find me.”

The blunt force of the truth smacked him square in the chest. He’d been correct. She didn’t want him. Still, despite the searing pain, the part of him that couldn’t let go had to ask, “But why? What happened?”

She opened her mouth and he waited for his questions to be answered when a weak voice came from the hallway.

“Hannah, I hear someone with you. Is Jonathan there?”

Something dark rose at the mention of another man’s name, but Derrick controlled his emotions. He didn’t know anything about this Hannah and could not jump to conclusions. Not when he was finally in the same room with her.

Hannah sent him a now-you-did-it look and hurried to the entrance of the hallway. A woman joined her, her hair gray and her face lined as she shuffled into the room wearing a housecoat and slippers.

“Mom, you should have stayed in bed.”

“And miss the commotion?”

When Derrick realized this was Hannah’s mother, his jaw dropped. This woman was obviously ill and looked way older than Derrick thought she should be, a far cry from the feisty, petite dynamo who had opened up her house, especially her kitchen, to him when he was a kid.

He stepped forward. “Hi, Mrs. Rawlings. It’s Derrick Matthews.”

The older woman stilled. Squinted her eyes. Then a warm smile curved her lips. “My goodness. It is you.”

Hannah steered her mother to the armchair. “Sit, Mom.”

Once Mrs. Rawlings was seated, she gazed at Derrick for a long moment. “I never thought I’d see you again. You or anyone from our old life.” She grinned and pointed a shaky finger at him. “You always were full of surprises.”

“If anything, finding you and Hannah has been the major surprise.”

Mrs. Rawlings glanced at her daughter as Hannah wrapped a knitted afghan over her mother’s knees.

“Have you eaten today, Mom?”

A grimace crossed her mother’s face. “No.”

“Let me get you some tea and toast.”

“Please.”

Always one with gracious manners, Hannah asked Derrick, “Can I get you anything?”

Yes, he wanted to shout. The truth.

“I’m good.”

Hannah hesitated as if she didn’t want to leave them alone, then hustled to the kitchen.

After a tense moment, Mrs. Rawlings said, “I’m sure you’re startled by my appearance.”

He nodded.

“Cancer. Had my last treatment yesterday.”

He swallowed hard.

She offered a small grin. “But Hannah takes good care of me.”

“Where is Mr. Rawlings?”

The older woman blinked. “Gone.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Oh, not dead,” she rushed to say. “Just gone.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I believe it would be best if Hannah explained.”

A shrill whistle sounded from the other room. Seconds later Hannah returned with a steaming cup for her mother. She took it with shaky hands.

“Your mother was just telling me your father left.”

Hannah’s brow pinched. She shot her mother a glance, then faced him. “We…separated years ago.”

Separated? What did that mean?

“Go ahead,” Mrs. Rawlings instructed.