Daniel, I am now.”
He pulled her to her feet and then held her tight, pressing her face against his chest as he stared at the two cars engulfed in flames.
“If you hadn’t stopped me, we would have—”
“Don’t say it,” Mary begged, and put her hand to his lips. Then she moved from his arms to the car, opened the back door and lifted her screaming daughter from the seat. “It’s all right, punkin…it’s all right,” Mary crooned. “Mommy’s got you now. You’re going to be just fine.”
Daniel watched the two most important women in his life walk back in the house, then got in his car and pulled it back up the drive, away from the flames. Already, he could hear more approaching sirens. The neighbors must have called the police. It was just as well. He’d been too shaken too think past his own family’s safety.
With one last regretful glance at the cars and for the demise of both drivers, he hurried back into his home and found Mary in the rocker, singing softly to their daughter as she drifted off to sleep.
Without talking, he went into the kitchen, stood at the sink and stared down into the bloody water for a moment, then pulled the stopper. As the water began to drain away, he saw the knife at the bottom of the sink that had cut Mary’s hand. Cursing softly, he laid it on the counter, refilled the sink with clean water and soap, and did the dishes. He could still hear Mary singing, but Hope was no longer crying. At least she was happy because now he felt like crying. He’d come so close to killing both himself and Hope.
Bracing himself against the top of the washing machine, he closed his eyes and dropped his head.
“Thank you, Lord,” he muttered, then took the clean clothes out of the washer and dropped them into the dryer before grabbing the broom and sweeping the kitchen floor.
A short while later, he had finished with the morning chores. He went into the living room to check on Mary and found Hope asleep in the bassinet and Mary asleep on the sofa. Pain wrapped itself around his heart and squeezed. Not much, but just enough to remind him of what he’d almost lost. Then he picked Hope up from the bassinet and carried her into the nursery down the hall, covered her up with her favorite blanket and closed the door. She would sleep for at least an hour, maybe more.
He went back to the living room, gazed down at his wife’s thin, pale face and then at the blood seeping from beneath the bandages on her finger and sighed. She probably needed stitches, but what was done, was done. He got a small towel and wrapped it around Mary’s hand, then covered her with an afghan. She needed to sleep worse than she needed stitches, and he needed to think.
Chapter 2
Mary woke with a start, then sat up in fright. Hope’s old bassinet was in the living room, her finger was throbbing, and it was almost noon. She wouldn’t stop to let herself even wonder where that bassinet had come from or why her finger was wrapped up in a bandage and towel. The last thing she remembered was walking into an antique shop. How she’d gotten home was beyond her and why she was on the sofa instead of in her bedroom was beside the point. She had overslept and her boss at the dress shop was bound to fire her.
Thinking she would immediately call in to the store, she bolted to her feet, frantically searching for the phone, but it wasn’t in its usual place. Then she saw the stroller by the front door and Daniel’s jacket on the back of a chair and went weak with relief.
The dream.
She was still having the dream, and as long as she slept, Daniel and Hope were still alive.
She looked in the nursery. The baby wasn’t there, but when she walked back in the hall and heard the soft rumble of Daniel’s laughter and a high-pitched baby squeal, it made her smile. Following the sounds to the small patio beyond the kitchen, she found Daniel in a chaise lounge under their shade tree, holding Hope against his chest. She was on her back, her arms and legs beating the air as she gazed upward into the treetop.
She combed her fingers through Daniel’s thick, dark hair, relishing the feel of it against her palm, and then leaned down and kissed the side of his cheek.
“You shouldn’t have let me sleep so long.”
He looked up and smiled. “Why not? You needed it, honey. Besides, where else would I rather be than with my girls?”
Mary conscience tugged. If only she believed that he meant it.
“Really, Daniel? Do you really mean that? In spite of…I mean, things haven’t been…”
“Come sit by me.”
She hesitated, then when he moved his feet to give her room, she sat. She glanced at Daniel and then focused her attention on Hope, laughing at the baby’s antics, unaware that Daniel was watching her and not their child.
Except for being thinner and paler, and a little the worse for a constant lack of sleep, she was the same pretty woman she’d always been. Hair the color of caramel taffy framed a small, slender face. Sometimes he thought her eyes were blue. Sometimes they almost looked green. But he could always see the tenderness of her spirit looking out at him from within. Only now, Daniel was trying to understand where her uncertainty had come from. Before they’d married, he’d never seen her down or second-guessing herself. Now she seemed to do nothing else.
“Mary?”
She looked up and the expression on his face was a bit frightening.
“What?” she asked, and then caught herself holding her breath as she awaited his response.
“What’s happening between us?”
Her shoulders slumped. “Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” he said gently.
“You’re right. It’s me. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m so mean and hateful.” Her chin trembled. “I don’t mean to be.”
“You aren’t mean or hateful,” he said. “And it’s not you. It’s something else, isn’t it?”
Tell him. Tell him how much Phyllis hates me.
“I don’t know what you mean.” She was saved from having to talk further as the phone began to ring. “I’ll get it,” she said, and ran for the back door, leaving Daniel with a heavy heart and unanswered questions.
A few moments later she peeked out the back door.
“It’s Phyllis. She wants to talk to you.”
Daniel looked at Mary. That sick, nervous expression was back on her face.
“Tell Mom I’ll call her back later, okay?”
Mary nodded and then went back into the living room and picked up the receiver.
“Phyllis, he’s outside with Hope. He said he’ll call you later.”
“You’re lying. You didn’t even tell him, did you?”
Mary’s stomach knotted. “Of course I’m not lying. He said he’d call you back.”
“I
