Bringing Maddie Home(30)
Author: Janice Kay Johnson

“You okay?” he asked.

She barely glanced at him. “Sure. I’m just feeling a little anti-family right now. With the exception of Felix, of course. But he says he likes Uncle Duane, so I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know how close he is to your mother, except that he told me once he did move to Angel Butte because she was here. He said she was the only family he had.”

“I assume he isn’t married or you’d have invited his wife, too?”

“Never has been, as far as I know. I suppose he could have been before I knew him. He’s got to be mid-fifties. Pretty much a loner. I think he’s got a lady friend over in Portland. He gets over there regularly.”

The doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” he said, kissed her cheek and left her in the kitchen.

Felix was on the doorstep, Duane just pulling in. Felix and Colin waited while he parked his car next to Nell’s small red one and crossed the yard.

“Felix,” Duane said as the two shook hands. “Bet you’re glad to see your sister.”

“Yeah, having her back is pretty amazing.” It was obvious her brother meant what he was saying.

“You two don’t look much alike,” Colin observed.

Felix shrugged. “Never did. She got her looks from Mom, I got mine from Dad.” He cocked his head and studied Duane as the two divested themselves of outerwear. “Come to think of it, you don’t look much like Mom, do you?”

“Same deal as you two, I imagine. Then there’s the fact that your mother colors her hair….”

Felix elbowed him. “You mean, she’s kept her hair, don’t you?”

They all laughed.

Nell came from the kitchen to meet them, her gaze on Duane although she first hugged her brother. Duane held out his arms and, after an almost infinitesimal hesitation, she let him hug her. Her reluctance wasn’t obvious, but Colin saw it. No wonder, he thought—hugs probably weren’t plentiful in her childhood.

She crossed her arms in front of herself when she stepped back. “You’re Mom’s brother.”

“That’s right.” Duane seemed shocked. “You really don’t remember me.”

“I’m afraid not. There’s…a great deal I still don’t remember.”

Colin wished she hadn’t put that still in there, with its implication that her memory was coming back.

“Damn,” Duane said, shaking his head. “Colin told me, but I guess I didn’t believe it.” He searched her face. “He said you remembered Helen and Marc.”

“Only flashes. But I must have spent a lot more time with them than I did with you.”

His expression darkened. “I knew your mother was hard on you. I tried to give you some extra attention to try to make up for it. You and I were good friends. I thought seeing me might bring that back.”

Nell shook her head, something panicky in the tight movement. “I’m afraid not.”

Colin stepped closer to her, laid a hand on her back. “Do we need to work on dinner?” he asked, keeping his voice relaxed, easy.

Her eyes flashed to his, grateful, he thought. “Oh, no! The rice is probably boiling over. Excuse me for a minute.”

She fled. He offered drinks and ended up getting beers for all four of them. He paused in the kitchen. “You okay?” he asked her quietly.

“Yes,” she said. “Just…” She didn’t finish. He waited a moment but she didn’t continue.

As the evening progressed, he worked damn hard to keep Felix and Duane from noticing how withdrawn Nell was becoming. Something was going on in her head, but he had no idea what. She didn’t blank out the way she had a couple times, which was his only consolation.

At first he thought Felix was oblivious, the way he kept teasing her, trying to make her laugh, but then Colin began to wonder if her brother wasn’t trying as hard as he was to keep conversation ongoing and light.

Duane, in contrast, kept trying to dig out memories that weren’t there—or were burrowed deep and unwilling to lift their heads.

Half a dozen times, he started questions with, “Do you remember when…?”

“I’m sorry,” Nell kept having to say.

Understandably enough, Duane wanted to know about her life since she’d disappeared, too, and she answered some questions and was politely vague about others.

“What part of Seattle? Oh, like most renters I move every so often. Rent goes up, I shop around.”

Duane asked for another beer, and then another. His bafflement and hurt were plain, giving away enough to make Colin feel sorry for him. As long as he’d known Duane, the man still kept his private life just that. Colin had guessed he didn’t have much of a life off the job. He hunted and fished with some buddies his age, neither activity interesting Colin. Colin had been to his house and seen how bare it was. For twelve years, Duane had mourned Maddie, but now she was here and he meant less than nothing to her. Yeah, that wouldn’t feel good.

Dinner was excellent, as were the tarts topped with cream Colin thought he recognized. Especially when she set a plate in front of Felix and murmured something in his ear that made him laugh.

His own was cherry, but when he glanced across the table as Felix took a bite, he recognized peach and hid a grin.

“I hope you like blueberry,” she said politely to Duane. “If not, I’d be glad to switch. Mine’s apple. I confess I bought these. I went for a variety.”

“Either’s fine,” Duane assured her. “Dinner was a treat. I’m ashamed at how rarely I make a real meal for myself. Your mother is a heck of a cook, too, you know.”

“I’d kind of forgotten.” A frown crinkled Nell’s forehead. “She was out at the lodge the other day,” she offered. “She said they’re refurbishing some cabins, and Dad leaves things like that in her hands. I wonder if she gets bored?”

Felix and Duane began to speculate on what Helen actually did most of the time to fill her days, their ideas growing wilder by the minute. Colin would have expected Nell to be laughing, but her smile looked forced. They were still at it when she excused herself to refill coffee cups, then to clear away dessert plates, declining offers of help. Colin began to wish their guests would notice that their welcome had worn out.

He’d barely finished the thought when Felix drained his cup and stood, stretching. “Time for me to get going.” He flashed a smile at his sister. “Happens I have a date.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Anyone I know?”

He grinned. “Yep. Sometimes things look different when you come home. People, too.”

She rolled her eyes. “I can’t decide whether to be disapproving or not.”

“Not.” He kissed her cheek. “We’re just having fun.” Colin was pretty sure he was the only one who heard the addendum. “Lots of fun.”

Their byplay went right by Duane, but he pushed himself to his feet, as well. “I’d better be off, too.” He frowned at Colin. “You’re not going to hold my niece hostage so she cleans the kitchen, are you?”

Colin laughed. “No, but we have some things to talk about.”

“You mean, while I’m slaving over the dirty dishes?” she retorted pertly.

The two of them walked Felix and Duane to the front door. Duane was beginning to look a little suspicious, but, to Colin’s relief, chose not to ask questions about where she was sleeping. At least, not in front of her.

On the doorstep, he faced her. “I can’t tell you what it means to me to have you home, Maddie.” He sounded choked up. “I want you to know, anything you need…” He labored to a stop, finishing with a harrumphing sound.

Nell gave him a small, polite smile that failed to disguise her discomfiture. “That’s kind of you. You’ve been more welcoming than Mom and Dad.”

“Having you stay away on purpose, that may be hard for them to swallow.”

“It…wasn’t exactly like that,” she said, stilted.

“Either way.” He looked as if he wanted to envelop her in a hug again, but recognized from her tightly held posture that she would be happier if he didn’t. “Good night,” he said, nodding at Colin. “Call me tomorrow if you can tell me what’s happening.”

Colin had dodged him yesterday afternoon.

“I’m…in a holding pattern. It’ll probably be Monday before I know what comes next.”

“Good enough.”

Felix kissed Nell on the cheek, and the men departed together, talking until they separated to get in their vehicles.

Colin closed the door and took Nell in his arms. She made a little sound, wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned as if she needed him to hold her up. He rubbed his cheek against her head and reveled in the feel of her body, fitted against his. As tough as this homecoming had been, she had rarely seemed as fragile as she did right now.

She finally sighed and straightened. “That was really hard. I don’t think I handled it very well.”

“You weren’t comfortable with Duane.” He hadn’t seen her so stiff with anyone, not even her parents.

“No.” Uncertainty filled her eyes. “I don’t know why. At first I was really freaked-out.”

“Like when you tried to remember Beck?”

“I don’t know.” Her frustration was obvious. “It felt like that, but…I really don’t know. Part of it is meeting someone who has all these expectations of me, but who feels like a total stranger to me. I could tell I was really hurting his feelings.”

“I noticed. I’d warned him, but I guess he assumed once you saw him all those beautiful memories would come swooping back.”

“Wouldn’t you think I’d have some?” she exclaimed, tension vibrating through her body again.

“Hey.” He tugged her close again, kissing her forehead, her nose, the corner of her mouth. “I keep saying this—”

“It’ll come back.” She made an awful face at him. “But I also distinctly remember you telling me that the day of the assault might not.”

Was she associating her uncle Duane with that day? His alarms pinged. Damn it, Duane had implied she’d spent a lot of time with him, something Colin hadn’t known. Duane fit the pattern in some ways—never married, apparently not dating women his age unless you counted the possibly mythical woman in Portland. Colin felt sick at even so vague a suspicion.

“I’ve changed my mind,” he told Nell. With a nudge, he started her toward the kitchen. “It’s not gone, it’s buried. I think Beck had something to do with that night, and you know it. You’re resisting the memory because it’s so painful, but it’s there.”

Her expression was bleak when she met his eyes. “Even if it is, I need to remember.”

He wanted to reassure her by saying, There’s no hurry, but it would have been a lie. He felt a sense of urgency that wouldn’t let go. The assault on Maddie that long-ago night wasn’t as simple as they’d believed at the time. It sure as hell hadn’t been chance—a predator seeing a teenage girl alone on a dark path. No, it was all about Maddie. Maddie’s boyfriend, too, and in some way her family. Her intense fear all these years of returning home meant something. The pieces weren’t fitting together yet, but they would. The churning in his belly increased at the idea of Duane as one of those puzzle pieces.

Damn it, no! He’d worked closely with the man for twelve years. Colin knew how much Duane cared about the people they sought to protect.

But he found he couldn’t dismiss the possibility that Duane had sexually molested Nell, however much he wanted to.

“Pushing doesn’t seem to work,” he pointed out. “All it does is give you a headache. Maybe what you need is a long soak in the tub.”

A tiny smile rewarded him. “Actually, that sounds lovely. And I did cook.”

He swatted her lightly on the butt. “Go. I’ll take care of the kitchen. And I promise not to start the dishwasher until you’re out of the bath.”

“I don’t suppose you have bath salts? Or some bubble bath…?”

He slanted a look at her. She was giggling as she went down the hall.

His mouth quirked as he watched her go, but Colin’s mood wasn’t any lighter.

* * *

NELL STRUGGLED OUT of sleep, crying out as she surfaced. Hands were on her, and she thrashed wildly.

“Maddie!” Somebody was shaking her. “Damn it, Maddie, wake up!”

She kept fighting, some of the nightmare hanging on. I won’t, I won’t.

I won’t do what? she asked herself in bewilderment, halfway between states.

“Maddie.”

She opened her eyes to darkness. Heard herself breathing in gasps that rasped like skin over gravel. For a moment she had no idea where she was or whose hands were on her.

“Maddie,” he repeated, patient, gentle now that she’d quit fighting.

“Colin. Oh, God. Colin.” She threw herself at him, felt his arms close securely around her. Either his chest was wet or her face was.

She was crying. In her sleep?

“It was a nightmare. That’s all, love, a nightmare. You’re safe here with me. I promise.” He was moving slightly, as if trying to rock her.

She wasn’t close enough. She wriggled and scrambled until she was lying on top of him and she felt him from where her toes curled against his shins to the heart slamming beneath her to his breath moving her hair.

He kept talking; she hardly made out words. Crooning. It had to be five minutes before her frantic need to climb inside him eased. Her muscles gradually went slack, leaving her utterly drained.

“Are you all right?” he murmured, and she nodded, although she wasn’t sure she was.

Somehow she knew the nightmare had been a familiar one. This was the first time ever she hadn’t been alone when she woke from it, though.