“He’s got to be here!” Randi’s terror-filled shriek rose above the collective voices of the people calling out to the little boy as they broke apart to search around.

  John’s attention shot back and forth across the area. Adrenaline dictated that he move, but he wasn’t sure where to go. People were everywhere. Running frantically. He checked behind a wall Phyllis had just looked behind, trying to ignore the fear he’d seen in her eyes.

  Billy had to be there. Little boys had a tendency to be curious and to let their curiosity get the better of them.

  Phyllis searched behind some bushes and John knelt down in the dirt, inspecting every inch of ground beneath them. It took him several seconds to figure out that the pounding he heard in his ears was his own heartbeat.

  “When I was a kid not much older than Billy, I wandered off from my mother in the mall,” he said to Phyllis, moving with her to the shrubbery that continued around the building. “I’d seen a midget and thought he was an elf.”

  She didn’t say a word, just nodded jerkily and kept looking, pushing aside the brush, calling Billy’s name. John wasn’t sure she even felt the ugly scratch that had left a small line of beaded blood on her forearm.

  “I managed to get so lost I ended up hiding under a rack of women’s dresses. I was sobbing like crazy an hour later when the store manager finally found me.”

  “Billy!” Phyllis called, sending John a half smile at the same time.

  “Billy must have seen his own midget,” he said, feeling stupid and scared and hating both emotions.

  “Yeah,” Phyllis said. She squeezed his hand, an unusual action from someone who didn’t really know him all that well. “Don’t worry, John, we’ll find him.”

  He wanted to tell her he wasn’t worried.

  But what he knew—what he feared Phyllis had recognized in him—was that life was just like this. Its cruelty struck without notice and changed lives irrevocably. The knowledge damn near debilitated him.

  HALF AN HOUR LATER, the solemn group stood together in a tight circle, Randi, Zack and Sheriff Richards in the center. It was still light outside, but wouldn’t be for long.

  “The police are arranging a search,” Greg said. “Any of you who can stay to help, raise your hands so I can give them an accurate head count.”

  Every hand in the circle rose.

  “I’ll watch the other kids.” Bonnie Nielson’s voice came from somewhere in the sea of people.

  “I’ll help her,” Becca Parsons replied.

  The Sheriff looked at Ellen Moore Hanaran, the reason they’d originally gathered together that day. “Will you stay here, too?” he asked. “We don’t want to take any chances with the rest of our troops.”

  Ellen nodded, while John silently applauded the sheriff. Ellen, still emotionally shaky as a result of her rape the year before, had had a hard day.

  “Let’s get this show on the road,” John mumbled under his breath, impatience tightening his stomach.

  “I’m with you,” Will Parsons, Billy’s uncle and namesake, replied beside him.

  Neither man mentioned the possibility that no matter how soon they began their search, it might already be too late for two-and-a-half-year-old Billy. John hoped to God his friends would be spared that unbearable heartache.

  CAROLINE WATCHED as another set of headlights turned the corner, coming slowly closer. Please be him. She repeated the mantra slowly, again and again, as she had for every other vehicle that had driven down John Strickland’s street in the past half hour. No one seemed to notice the woman sitting in the little old pickup parked at the curb. But then, it was dark. They probably couldn’t see her, thought the truck was empty.

  Would John think that, too?

  The car passed, and her heart settled heavily. If he didn’t come soon, she wouldn’t have the nerve to stay. And then she’d probably be up all night, trying to convince herself that all was well.

  Billy had been found. She’d been sitting right there with Mrs. Howard in the kitchen at the boardinghouse when the call came from her friend, Mrs. Williams, who’d heard from another friend that a second call had come from Phoenix and the boy was safe.

  John’s Cadillac was two houses down before she noticed him. Climbing out of her truck, Caroline figured he must’ve seen her, because he didn’t lower the garage door after pulling inside. Instead, he came out to meet her halfway up the driveway. He’d removed his tie. The first two buttons of his cream-colored dress shirt were undone. He was still wearing the brown tweed sport coat that matched his wrinkled brown slacks.

  Not that she was noticing. It was just a long walk up the driveway.

  “You heard?” he asked, meeting up with her.

  “Yeah.” She searched his eyes, not sure what she was looking for, but somehow believing she might find it there.

  John, running a hand through his hair, seemed exhausted. “What a night.”

  “What happened? All I heard was that he’s safe.”

  He shook his head. “No one knows for sure,” he said. “One minute he was there. Then he was gone. An hour later, he was back again. Phoenix police say he must’ve just wandered off, so that’s the official explanation.”

  “For an hour?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And managed, at two years old, to find his way back?”

  “They figure he was right there, in the vicinity, all the time.”

  “Like he crawled under a bush or something?” She supposed it was possible. In his younger years, Jesse had certainly pulled a stunt or two. The infamous haystack episode, for instance. Little boys did things like that.

  “I guess. Though we looked under every bush in the area.”

  She frowned, glad for the cover of night as self-consciousness came over her. She, Caroline Prater, unmarried and pregnant for the second time in her life, dressed in jeans that were faded because they were ten years old and not because they were fashionable, had invaded the personal space of a man who made more money in a year than she’d see in a lifetime.

  “But if he was right there, why wouldn’t he have answered when everyone was calling him?”

  “I don’t know.”

  John stood there, watching her, saying nothing. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry for her to leave. Or to go inside.

  “I guess I could’ve phoned,” she said, glancing down at her boots. “I just didn’t want to leave a message on your machine and I had no way of knowing when you’d be back and I needed to get out of that little room….”

  “Caroline.” He waited until she looked up at him. “It’s okay. You don’t know anyone in town yet. And you’re going through a lot of changes right now. You’re welcome to come over here anytime.”

  Was he humoring her? Or worse, feeling sorry for her? Because if he was…

  “Would you like to come in? I could use a drink and I try my best not to indulge alone.”

  She didn’t know what she should do. But she knew what she didn’t want to do. Go back home to sit in that lonely little room, with only her computer for company.

  “Okay,” she said, following him slowly up the driveway. “But just for a minute.”

  He took her through the neatest garage she’d ever seen and into his kitchen, indicating a seat at the table. She perched on a stool at the breakfast bar instead. It felt less like settling in.

  While John poured her a glass of filtered iced water and popped the top on a can of beer, Caroline tried not to stare around her like a kid in a candy shop. She’d never been in a kitchen like this, couldn’t imagine cooking in one. He had double ovens, for heaven’s sake! And the stove top—there were no burners, just a glass surface. The shiny beige-and-black-speckled counter was a cookie-maker’s dream.

  “What’s this made of?” she asked, enjoying the smooth coolness beneath her fingers.

  “Granite.”

  “It’s wonderful.”

  “Yeah. It’s scratch-resistant, so no need for cutting boards, but you have to treat it every year or so.”

  Treat it? The kitchen counter? Treating the leather on your saddle she could understand, but the kitchen counter? She had no idea what one would treat it with. But she didn’t ask.

  She’d look it up on the Internet before she went to bed.

  “I made the doctor’s appointment.” It was her excuse for coming over.

  “Oh.” His beer can indented slightly beneath his grip. “When?”

  “Monday at three if that’s okay with you. I can change it if—”

  “It’s fine.”

  She meant to take a sip of her water. A small sip. And gulped so much she started to choke. After he’d patted her back and waited for her coughing fit to stop, John sat down on the stool beside her, facing her, his knees spread to accommodate hers. But he didn’t touch her. Caroline didn’t think she could have stayed if he had.

  “Relax,” he said, his voice soft, more from exhaustion, she thought, than anything else. “I don’t bite.”

  “I know.”

  “I don’t blame you or think badly of you, you know.”

  She tried to meet his gaze. Managed for a second, but then glanced at the cupboards behind him. “I know.”

  “How soon will it be before we find out if it’s a boy or a girl?”

  Warm emotion flooded Caroline. A boy or a girl. Her son. Or daughter. A new baby to cuddle and love and care for. John took another sip of beer.

  His baby. Fear and uncertainty replaced the serenity she’d known for a second or two. This wasn’t just her baby, to raise as she saw fit. She had to share the cuddling, the loving and decision-making with a virtual stranger. Even down to choosing a name.

  She couldn’t afford to get sentimental. At least when she wasn’t alone.

  “Not for a few months yet,” she finally answered his question.

  She was going to do her damnedest not to get embarrassed, either. Or allow any feelings of intimacy. Their connection was biological. It wasn’t emotional. Or legal.

  “I had something else to discuss with you,” she said, proud of herself for speaking up when she’d feared she’d chicken out.

  “What’s that?” His tone was warm, easy. His eyes kind.

  “About the doctor…”

  His head lowered. “I need to be involved, Caroline.”

  She nodded quickly. “I understand. I’m not about to suggest otherwise, only that…perhaps…there’s a better way to do this.”

  “What do you mean?” His stare was hard. His determination was for his baby’s sake; she knew that.

  She ran her tongue over her lips, swallowed and took a deep breath. “Well, since your involvement isn’t physical…”

  He frowned.

  “…at this point,” she added. “So you could handle your part of the…uh…transaction…over the phone.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t like it.” He hadn’t taken enough time to give the idea any thought. “I’m that child’s father and, as such, I should be present.”

  “You will be,” Caroline said softly, years of living with Randy guiding her words. “I plan to tell her all about you on Monday, explain that you’re taking full responsibility and will be actively involved every step of the way. Other than the physical exams, of course.” He’d already agreed to that, but she had to make it perfectly clear. “I can have her call you after every visit, tell you whatever you would’ve heard if you were there, or I can arrange to have you call her. Your choice.”

  John studied her. He didn’t seem convinced. But he wasn’t shaking his head, either.

  “You won’t be able to keep me a secret if you’re sitting with me in an obstetrician’s office.” She almost whispered the words, afraid her voice would reflect how badly the statement hurt her. Not because he was rejecting her, but simply because she was being rejected.

  “I’m not trying to keep—”

  Caroline looked him straight in the eye. “Yes, you are, and it’s okay, John. I understand.” She had it all figured out. “This is a small town. You’re relatively new here, and yet these people all know you. They’ve accepted you. You aren’t sure how they’ll react.”

  “I’m not afraid of their reactions.” His voice was strong, sure. “I am, however, a little sensitive about Lauren’s feelings. I broke off our engagement a week before the night I—we…”

  Lauren. The physical education teacher from Montford.

  “And you’re right,” he continued, not looking at Caroline. “I could tell her privately, try to explain, but…”

  He’d still slept with another woman almost immediately after telling Lauren that he wasn’t over his first wife.

  “Anyway, in a town this size, people talk. There’d be a lot of speculation about her, people wondering how she was taking things. I’d just like to give her some time to move on before this comes out.”

  It was as good an excuse as any for putting off the inevitable. As eager as John to avoid the unpleasant aftermath of small-town shock, Caroline was willing to accept his reasoning.

  If only she could ignore her fear that the more likely explanation was that he was ashamed of her—the country bumpkin who was carrying his child.

  “And you don’t think it’ll be all over town in an hour if you’re sitting in the waiting room of an obstetrician’s office?” she asked now, focusing on the issue at hand. “Even if you aren’t sitting with me?”

  He didn’t answer. Stared at the floor.

  “I’ll talk to the doctor, John,” Caroline reiterated. “I can have her call you the second I’m through.”

  Head still lowered, he peered up at her. “How about you both call me when you’re in the office. I’m sure she has a speakerphone. That way you can hear the questions I ask and the answers I receive.”

  Was it fair to hope the doctor didn’t have a speakerphone? “Okay.”

  “Okay.” He sipped his beer. Then again. And smiled at her.

  “Have you thought about what you’re going to tell them after the baby’s born and you have to publicly claim it?” Oh, God, she was tired. She hadn’t meant to let that slip.

  Or to feel such crushing disappointment when John shook his head. “I’m having trouble getting through each day as it is. I can’t think that far ahead.” He wouldn’t meet her eyes.

  He was ashamed of her.

  “You aren’t ready for their questions,” she guessed.

  If she was a lawyer or a scientist or even a schoolteacher, would this be so hard for him? She couldn’t ask. The answer—even unspoken—would hurt too much.

  “I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready,” he murmured. “Damn, this day was hard.” His weary sigh brought her head up.

  “Because of Billy.” Thinking of someone else always helped.

  “Yeah. It happened so fast. One minute he was there with all of us, perfectly safe, and the next…gone, right from under the noses of more than thirty people.”

  “I, uh, knew a—well…someone who lived right by me whose little boy dug a cave for himself in the haystack in the barn without telling anyone. Apparently he played there fairly regularly until the day he accidentally fell asleep inside and his mother had the entire town on the farm looking for him.”

  He grinned. “What happened?”

  “He woke up. Got the spanking of his life from a father who never quite understood him to begin with, and was forbidden from ever going near the haystack again.”

  John’s eyes on her felt warm, and that warmth soothed her more than it should. “Sounds like you knew them well.”

  Caroline hoped her laugh didn’t sound as nervous as it felt. “Everyone in Grainville knows everyone else well.”

  She should tell him about Jesse. It was going to come out soon enough anyway. The doctor would need to know this wasn’t her first pregnancy.

  She should’ve already told him.

  But as she sat there, staring at John’s knees, Caroline couldn’t find the words. She didn’t want John to think any less of her than he already did. One unexpected, unplanned and unmarried pregnancy was bad enough. But two?

  It was downright humiliating.

  “He’s my son.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “The little boy in the haystack was my son.”

  She heard his beer can touch the counter. “Was?”

  The compassion in his voice brought Caroline’s eyes up to his. “Is,” she corrected. “His name’s Jesse.”

  Eyes narrowed, John cocked his head as he studied her.

  “You have a son.”

  She nodded. Tried to swallow and couldn’t.

  “Where is he?”

  “At school.”

  “He goes to boarding school?” He couldn’t seem to hide his shock at that assumption. And she didn’t blame him. Not many boys from dirt-poor Kentucky farm folk ended up in boarding school. Jesse among them.

  She shook her head. “He’s at Harvard.” She couldn’t quite contain the proud little smile. “On a full scholarship.”

  “Harvard?” He frowned. “How old is he?”

  “Seventeen.”

  His brows rose. “He’s got his mama’s brains.”

  Caroline waited.

  He didn’t surprise her. “Seventeen and you’re what? Thirty-five?”

  Almost. In another few months. Caroline nodded.

  “You got pregnant when you were seventeen.” He sounded as though he’d solved a puzzle.

  “Sixteen, actually,” she admitted. “I had him when I was seventeen.” And just to save him a step. “An unplanned teenaged pregnancy.”

  And this was where true confessions ended. He didn’t need to know the rest. That the mother of his unborn child hadn’t even graduated from high school. But she’d earned her GED, which was the important thing.

  “Did you love the guy?”

  Carefully, Caroline took a sip of water. She hadn’t expected that question. “Very much.”

  “Did he stand by you?”

  Her heart felt sad as she looked over at a man who would never in a million years understand Randy. “He married me and spent the rest of his life providing for the three of us.”