anymore, but it’s there; I can’t get it out of my head.
I know I ought to think about pleasing myself for a change, but even that idea is distressing, because I don’t know what I want. I’ve spent too many years denying my desires. I want my son, but I have no idea where my search for him will lead me, nor what it will cost—not in dollars, but the emotional drain.
And to complicate matters even further, there’s Phillip. Without meaning to, he’s turned my life upside down and thrown my mind into the worst sort of turmoil and confusion. Even as I value his help and friendship, I find myself longing for more from him—yearning for him to see me as a woman, to cherish and caress me and make me feel loved And at the same time, the idea of a romantic relationship strikes terror in my heart. In the very same breath I want to pull him close and push him away. How can I give my love to another man after what Rick Lancer did to me? How can I trust him? Or myself?
Even though I’m filled with doubts, I can’t let Phillip see my misgivings, or he’d never let me drive to Middleton alone. When he comes to say goodbye this afternoon, I must put on a brave, smiling face and pretend that I have every confidence in the world.
Dear God, help me to put my confidence in You!
“I still don’t like you going,” Phillip told Victoria shortly after four o’clock as he carried her suitcases out to her car. “It’s just too risky.”
Victoria followed with her pillow, makeup case and a sack of crackers and cheese. “Really, Phillip, you’re thinking like a detective now. What risk is there in spending a few weeks with an elderly couple who just happen to be my son’s grandparents?” Now if only she felt as brave as she sounded! She prayed Phillip wouldn’t see through her bravado; if he guessed how frightened she was, he’d never let her go.
“It’s not that simple and you know it,” he told her, his dark umber eyes shadowed as he looked at her.
Victoria felt warmed by his concern. If only he were going with her! She had known him for such a short time and already she felt lost without him. “I’ll be fine, Phillip, believe me,” she assured him. And if he believed that, she was a better actress than she thought. “I’ll keep in touch, I promise. And if I find out anything at all, I’ll let you know.”
He pulled her into his arms. “I—lI can’t let you go.”
Softly she said, “You can’t stop me, Phillip.”
His brows furrowed. “I wish I could go with you.”
“You can’t. You have your work. I’m sure you have lots of other clients needing your help.”
“You’re the only client on my mind right now.” He pushed her hair back gently from her face and moved his knuckles slowly over her cheekbone. He lowered his face to hers and she had the impression that he wanted to kiss her goodbye, but instead he brushed his lips against her forehead and released her. “Be careful, you hear?”
She managed a tremulous smile. “I will.”
He squeezed her hand tightly as she slipped into the driver’s seat. “Call me when you get there.”
“It’ll be late,” she warned.
“That’s all right I’m a night owl at heart.”
As she waved a last goodbye and pulled out of the driveway, she felt a disconcerting reluctance to go. She dreaded the long drive down the coast alone, but even more so she hated leaving Phillip.
“I can’t let myself feel this way,” she chided herself as she turned onto the freeway heading south. “My involvement with Phillip was supposed to remain strictly professional. All right, who am I kidding? We’ve become friends, but that’s all it’s going to be. Neither Phillip nor I are ready for an emotional entanglement. It’s the last thing either of us wants.”
She sounded so certain, so positive. Why then wasn’t her heart listening?
The drive down the coast was longer than Victoria remembered. It had seemed so short last Saturday riding with Phillip. They had been so engrossed in conversation that the miles had flown by. Now the miles dragged with a dull, grudging sameness.
The closer Victoria got to Middleton, the more her son weighed on her mind. Would she be able to solve the mystery of Joshua? Would she find him? And what would she find? Dear God, please let me find my boy, and please let him be all right Let him be alive! Give me a chance to see him, and know him, and love him!
When at last Victoria pulled into the Hewlett driveway on Blackberry Street, her head throbbed and her back ached. Was it the long drive or the anticipation of her stay with the Hewletts? In the heavy, fog-shrouded darkness, the rambling old house looked more ominous than ever. Victoria shuddered. If Phillip were with me, I wouldn’t be afraid, she thought, and immediately cast the idea aside. Forget Phillip, she scolded silently.
As she climbed out of the car, she arched her shoulders, then strode purposefully up the walk to the porch. Lights were on inside, so someone was home. She knocked soundly, her heart pounding. It was ridiculous to feel so nervous. There was nothing to fear. She had come to find the answers about her son Nothing else mattered now.
After a minute the door opened and a tall, angular man in glasses and a striped work shirt stared down at her. He was bald except for a patch of gray-black hair on each side of his head His long, thin, hangdog face merged unceremoniously with his neck. “Miss Clarkin?” he muttered.
“Carlin,” she corrected.
“In your letter you said you was arriving today. I didn’t expect you meant after dark.”
“It was a longer drive than I remembered.” She looked past him into the living room. “May I come in?”
He stepped back slowly and nodded, but his small, dark eyes remained fastened on her through his thick lenses. “Make yourself at home.” His voice was monotone.
“You must be—” she began.
“Sam Hewlett.” He looked over at the heavyset woman in the kitchen doorway. “You already met Maude.”
Victoria nodded and forced a smile. “It’s good to see you again, Mrs. Hewlett”
“You missed dinner,” snapped the woman. “It’s at six sharp. I can’t keep things sitting, getting cold.”
“I picked up a bite on my way,” Victoria told her. “I’m really very tired. I’d just like to bring my things in and go to my room.”
Maude’s expression softened. “It’s too late for dinner, but I got some herb tea brewing. It’s called Almond Pleasure. Smells real good, don’t it?”
Victoria smiled relentingly. “It smells wonderful.”
Maude gestured to Sam. “You go help her bring in her stuff. I’ll pour the tea and set out some glazed doughnuts.”
With Sam’s help, Victoria quickly transferred her belongings from her compact car to the old-fashioned bedroom that would be hers. Now, sitting across from the Hewletts in their cozy, Early American kitchen, Victoria wondered why she had felt so nervous. Although the Hewletts were rather gruff, unschooled people, they seemed like decent, unpretentious folk. Perhaps it had been nothing more than Victoria’s overactive imagination that had aroused her suspicions about them in the first place.
“You want another doughnut, Miss Carlin?” asked Maude.
“No, thank you,” said Victoria. “But I will have more tea. It’s delicious.”
“It’s just tea bags I get at the grocery. They got all kinds of fancy stuff these days.”
Sam sat back and rubbed his large hand over the fine network of bluish veins in his forehead. The pouches under his eyes puffed slightly as he worked his mouth into a curious grin. “You an authoress, Miss Clarkin? The wife says