Wonders Never Cease (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 19

  “Ma’am, you can’t park here,” he started, fully prepared to lecture the driver. Then he recognized the woman sobbing in the driver’s seat. Jill’s friend. The one from the health club.

  The woman suddenly leaped from the car and raced around to where he was standing.

  “Officer…Jacobs,” she said through her snuffling sobs. Her eyes and nose were both red and wet. Dressed in faded jeans and an oversize flannel shirt, she looked very human. “Thank God you’re here. What providence! Maybe one of Jill’s silly gods—the God of Baby-sitting or something—is smiling on me. Will you help me?”

  “How?”

  She grabbed his hand—the one without a leash—and pressed a black plastic key bob in it. “Keep an eye on things. Just for five minutes. Please. I have to see Jill. I was at my mother-in-law’s in Fairfield when Nils called. I just got back into town, and I have to see Jill. Do you understand?”

  Ben did. Completely.

  “Five minutes?”

  She nodded but was already racing away. She almost tripped when she turned to call out, “The baby’s bottle is in the bag behind the seat.”

  Ben looked at Czar. “Did she say bottle?”

  Czar barked.

  Fearing the worst, Ben took a step closer to the sport-utility vehicle and looked inside. Two toddlers—the same pair he’d seen that day at the pool—let out excited squeals and held out their arms. They wiggled and squirmed against their car-seat straps.

  Dressed in long-sleeved black sweatshirts emblazoned with some neon-colored television-cartoon heroes, the pair was Macy’s-ad perfect, right down to their miniature blue jeans with snaps in the crotch and stubby tennis shoes.

  Ben opened the rear passenger door. He felt drawn to the little boy with hazel eyes and reddish-blond hair. “Jill’s baby,” he said, not meaning to say the words aloud.

  “Dah,” the child said, looking hopeful.

  Something painful pressed against his windpipe. He stood there frozen until Czar leaped up and started licking the child’s startled face.

  “Czar,” Ben barked, fumbling with the leash.

  The little boy let out a cry of pure glee. His brother reached for the dog, jabbering with obvious joy.

  Ben had expected them to be scared and screaming, but the pair seemed entranced with the fearsome beast. Almost as if they were welcoming an old friend.

  Ben took a deep breath to ease some of the anxiety building in his chest. This isn’t too bad. I can do this. “Good boy, Czar. Keep them occupied until their mother gets back and everything will be just fi…”

  Before the word was out of his mouth, a cry pierced the air. Its decibel level made him put his hands to his ears. Czar whined and dropped to the ground. The children in the car seats looked at each other and started crying, too.

  Heart racing, Ben leaned into the car to locate the source of the anguish. He found it in a third car seat.

  A white-and-pink bundle. Snowy cap of blond curls. Tiny fists swinging at empty air. Cherub cheeks bright red. Perfect little mouth open so far, Ben could see her tonsils quiver.

  Trying not to panic, Ben fumbled with the harness mechanism and picked her up. She was light as a feather pillow and just as soft. He backed out of the vehicle, protecting the baby with his body. Muttering low, inane words, he bounced her in his arms, feeling like a bully.

  “It’s okay, baby. Your mommy will be right back.”

  The child continued to wail.

  Czar made a snorting sound, and Ben glanced down to see his dog tugging on the strap of a brightly colored diaper bag. “The bottle. Good thinking, boy.”

  Ben turned around and sat down on the running board. It was a tight squeeze, but he managed. Carefully balancing the baby in one arm, he groped for the plastic bottle. Seconds later, the horrible siren was replaced by a contented sucking sound.

  Ben let out a long, deep sigh. “Good Lord, that was brutal.”

  “But you did it,” a voice said.

  Ben looked up to see Jill’s mother standing in front of him. She smiled and held out her arms. Ben could have gone into them himself for comfort, but he gave her the baby, instead.

  She stepped back and gently bounced the child in a soft, soothing motion. “You’re very good with children,” Mattie said. “Is that innate or do you have a brood?”

  “A niece and a nephew. I’ve never been married.”

  “Your dog likes those children, doesn’t she?”

  Ben looked down. Czar had squeezed behind him and was sitting directly in front of the little boys, keeping them entertained with a game of licking fingers.

  “He,” Ben corrected. “And, yes, Czar has always been very good with children. He adores my sister’s kids.”

  Ben squinted against the bright sunlight. Strangely, here in the bright light, Mattie looked less like a glamorous cruise director and more like a grandmother.

  “Have you noticed how much the one twin looks like Jill?”

  Mattie nodded. “I commented on it the last time I visited. Jill laughed it off, but I know my daughter, and I know she longs for a baby of her own. Why else would she have stayed with Peter for so long?”

  Czar made an odd sound. Ben petted his ear.

  “But Peter played her for a fool. He let her believe they’d have a family, but he’d actually had a vasectomy years earlier. Poor Jilly was so upset. She’d put her own career on hold to help Peter in the corporate world, only to have her dearest dream smashed by an egoist.”

  Ben felt his gut tense.

  “If he’d lie about something like that, makes you wonder what else he’d lie about, doesn’t it?”

  Before Ben could ask her to elaborate, Mattie said, “Here comes Penny.”

  Penny trudged to the car—her face as fragile as a broken windshield. Ben understood completely. He rose and went to her, letting her muffle her sobs in the fabric of his shirt. He glanced behind him to make sure the twins were okay. His gaze met Czar’s. Although it had to be a trick of the sunlight, Ben could have sworn he saw tears in his dog’s eyes. Dogs can’t cry.

  Once Penny was in control of her emotions, she stepped back, mopping her face with her hands. “I can’t believe this is happening. I kept expecting Jill to open her eyes and say, ‘Just kidding, guys.’”

  “Nightmares are so much nicer than real life, you can open your eyes and be done with them,” Mattie said. The child in her arms appeared to be sound asleep.

  Penny turned to Ben. “Sorry about that. I’m not usually a hysterical wreck. And believe it or not, I’m not in the habit of dumping my kids on a complete stranger.”

  Ben shrugged. “Blame it on the Baby-sitting God.”

  Penny tried to smile, but her lips quivered. “I’ve got to go home where I can fall apart in private. Thanks, Mattie. I told Nils I’d take the eight-o’clock shift. The kids will be in bed by then.”

  Mattie handed her the sleeping child. “Excellent. Maybe Nils will be able to get some sleep.”

  Impulsively, Ben said, “I could take over at ten.”

  Mattie and Penny exchanged a look he couldn’t read. She gave him a smile very much like her daughter’s. “That would be excellent.”

  Ben gave Czar the hand signal to heel. Czar cocked his head curiously. That nasty twinge in Ben’s gut returned. He picked up Czar’s lead and gently tugged. “I’ll see you ladies later, then.”

  JILL ITCHED. And twitched. She was learning the hard way how unpleasant it was to have hives, with no way to scratch.

  Why did I let him talk me into pizza? With anchovies?

  Who knew Jill’s allergies would migrate with her to a new body? She’d been so eager to please Ben and show him she had an appetite—for anything other than canned dog food—she’d gobbled up every bite. Tiny fish bodies and all.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Ben asked, his voice hushed as they walked through the corridor of the slumbering hospital. “Do you have fleas?”

  No. Jill growled. But I could use some help h
ere, Mr. Ten Digits.

  Ben seemed oblivious to her distress. A post-dinner call to his sister had left him distant and introspective. Jill wondered how much of that had to do with his father’s health. Apparently Ben’s father was going to need surgery in the near future, and Joely wanted Ben to put in an appearance.

  Ben’s, “Not in this lifetime” had seemed pretty adamant.

  They paused outside Jill’s door. Ben’s hand seemed to shake slightly as he laid it on the metal lever.

  Well? Jill silently asked.

  To her surprise, he dropped her leash and turned away. His deck shoes made a muffled squeak against the tile as he headed down the hall.

  Even if Jill weren’t a dog, she wouldn’t have had any trouble finding him. Ben was standing at the window of the nursery like a kid at a candy store. The dim light from behind the glass showed the depth of his sorrow. Ben, what’s wrong?

  He looked down. “Either way, I’m screwed,” he said, his voice a harsh whisper. “If she never wakes up, I’ve lost the chance of a lifetime. If she opens her eyes tomorrow, I’m just putting off the inevitable.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “We both know I’m not marriage material, right? I’ll always be my father’s son.”

  Jill ached to hold him, to comfort him. The best she could do was lick his hand. And I’m my mother’s daughter. But, Ben, didn’t you see her face today? If she and Dad can rebuild their love after all the bitterness and disappointments they’ve shared over the years, then anything is possible. Please don’t give up.

  Ben dropped to a squat. He scratched Jill’s tender, itchy back as if he could divine her hives. She groaned with bliss. “Poor guy. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own problems, I’ve ignored you, haven’t I? But you still love me. I wish I understood why.”

  Because you’re you, Ben. Because you give more than you know and you care more than anyone I’ve ever known. And if I could speak, I’d tell you that every day until you believed it.

  Jill licked his face. She tasted his salty tears.

  Ben took a deep breath. “Come on, boy. Let’s go see Jill.”

  Ten minutes later, Ben and Jill were alone with her body. Penny had given Ben a weepy hug then dashed away. A nurse had checked in on her rounds. After slipping an Andrea Bocelli CD into the player, Ben pulled a chair beside the bed and sat down.

  Jill’s heart was racing as she wiggled between his knees and the bed. Maybe I can reach Czar. Maybe if I try hard enough…

  She put her head on the mattress—just inches from where her body’s lifeless hand was resting in Ben’s palm.

  Ben’s voice was soft. “Jill, it’s Ben. Can you hear me?”

  Jill inched closer. She wanted to touch her body but was afraid. What if I can’t get back? What if Czar’s spirit has moved on and I’m stuck in this body forever?

  “I’m so incredibly sorry this happened, sweetheart,” Ben said, leaning over to rest his chin near her ear.

  Without Czar’s keen hearing, Jill might not have been able to hear his solemn promise. “Jill, if you can hear me, I want you to know that I love you. I wasn’t sure I knew what love is—believe me, I didn’t grow up in a house where people used the word. But I know it now. I know, because my life hasn’t been the same since I met you, and it’ll be an empty shell if you leave me.”

  Jill leaned in closer. Oh, Ben…

  “Come back to me, Jill. Please.”

  Jill closed her eyes and focused on reaching Czar. Czar, my friend, are you here?

  She didn’t hear an answer, only Ben’s steady breathing. She pressed closer. Ben’s shins provided a rock of support. His left hand rested on her back—a touchstone of comfort. Even if she never got her old body back, Jill knew she’d live out Czar’s remaining years in the cradle of Ben’s affection.

  She wished that was enough, but it wasn’t. She was greedy. She wanted it all. She wanted to hold Ben, love him and laugh with him. She couldn’t wait to watch him feed their child a bottle. She longed to rejoice with her parents in their newly revived happiness. And she needed to tell Penny how much her friendship meant to her.

  Filled with needs too great to express, hope too large to contain, Jill closed her eyes and tried again. Czar, come to me, boy.

  At the corners of her consciousness, a white light appeared. A soothing glow of warmth and compassion. As Jill’s heart opened up, so did the portal to another dimension. Essences—spirits—hovered on the perimeter. Some, Jill recognized. Her grandmothers—gone so many years. And then there was Czar.

  He greeted her with the joy of a puppy but the dignity of a warrior. They didn’t speak. No words could possibly convey the depth of knowledge they’d shared.

  They touched, but only for a second—or was it an eternity? Then he was gone.

  Distantly, she heard someone call her name.

  “Jill? Jill, stay with me, sweetheart. I’m going for help.”

  No, she longed to cry, don’t leave me. But the words wouldn’t come. Her throat was too dry and sore. Ben…

  Her body responded to her panic. Her fingers grasped for something—anything grounded, real. When she felt the tangible grip of Ben’s hand—rock-solid warmth pulling her safely back to shore, she held tight. She didn’t let go. She’d never let go again.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “MOM. DAD. Leave.”

  Jill kept her tone light but serious. After a week of coddling and hovering, she knew she’d go insane if the well-meaning pair didn’t follow through with their original plans and rejoin their around-the-world adventure group.

  “But, Jillian,” Mattie argued after shooing Nils out of the kitchen, “you’ve only been out of the hospital four days. You’re going to need therapy to rebuild the strength in your left side. And I’m worried about your amnesia.”

  “Temporary amnesia,” Jill stressed. “Whitehurst said it was trauma-induced and probably not permanent.”

  Jill was tired of being treated like an invalid. Each day she showed more improvement. Dr. Whitehurst had taken to calling her SuperJill. If only he’d quit pestering me about my near-death memories. Those are too weird to share with anyone.

  Her headaches were becoming less frequent and each day she felt stronger. It bothered her that she couldn’t remember the events that put her into the hospital, but she hoped her doctor was right and that her memory would return.

  “Mom, I love you. You and Dad put your lives on hold for me. You nursed me back to health, but I’m almost a hundred percent now. I refuse to let you miss out on this once-in-a-lifetime trip.”

  Mattie finished wiping the kitchen counter that Jill had already wiped. Jill bit down on a smile. Her mother was still a perfectionist, but these days Jill didn’t take it personally.

  “Jill, we came so close to losing you. There’s not a trip on this planet worth more than you.”

  Jill walked across the sunny kitchen. She was glad that all memory of the actual attack had been erased from her mind, so she didn’t have any qualms about returning to her home. She snatched the sponge out of her mother’s hand. “Mom, it seems crazy that it took a coma to bring us all together, but at least we’ve learned from our mistakes. We won’t let it happen again.”

  Mattie cupped Jill’s jaw with her hand. “You are a treasure. There’s so much I wish I’d done differently, but you turned out perfect despite my flaws as a mother.”

  “Perfect?” Jill scoffed, but inside she blossomed under her mother’s praise. “Doesn’t that contradict Mattie’s Rule Number Eleven—Nobody is perfect—deal with it.”

  Mattie brushed aside a tear. “Are you sure that isn’t Number One?”

  They looked at each other and laughed. Then Mattie took a deep breath. “Nils,” she called. “Your daughter is kicking us out.”

  Jill walked into the adjoining family room. Everything appeared back to normal, her unique collection of Gods—ranging from a Mayan jaguar God, Frank’s least favorite, to a pair of intricate wood carvings from Bali—were dusted and on their respec
tive shelves of her display case. She moved to the easy chair by the glass door and sat down. Her stamina was returning—she could now climb the stairs to her bedroom with ease. The first few days, Ben had insisted on carrying her. Despite the pleasure it brought her to be in his arms, Jill didn’t like feeling helpless and dependent.

  Ben. Maybe once her parents were gone, Jill could get some answers about her relationship with him. He’d been the one holding her hand when she’d opened her eyes. She’d witnessed his joy and fear and something she couldn’t name. And he’d been a part of her life every day since that moment. Why? Were they a couple? Shouldn’t she remember something that important?

  Frustration—a side-effect of amnesia—brought a pulse of pain to her temple.

  She glanced up to see her parents conferring in the foyer. By concentrating, she could easily hear their whispered exchange. She didn’t understand her improved auditory acuity, but she liked it.

  “I think she means it,” Mattie said.

  Nils sighed. “I told you she was serious. We talked about it last night. She feels badly that we’ve already missed the first leg of the trip. Run upstairs and finish packing, dear. You are the pro, after all,” Nils said. “I want to talk to Ben before we leave.”

  Jill sank back in the chair and closed her eyes. I have things to discuss with him, too. Ever since Ben had said, “When we were in the hot tub,” Jill had been racking her brain trying to recall the circumstances of their encounter. Occasionally she’d get hazy images that might or might not be real. Moist clouds swirling around two figures. A passionate kiss that left her a little breathless just thinking about it. A furry weight suddenly landed in her lap. “Frank,” she exclaimed with pleasure. The cat had barely let Jill out of his sight since her return from the hospital. Ben had mentioned Frank’s odd attachment to Czar—something Jill couldn’t begin to explain.

  Jill heard her mother walk into the room to get something from the refrigerator.

  “Mom, why does everyone seem to assume that Ben and I are an item? Were we dating? Did we…had we…?” She felt herself blush. “I guess you’re the wrong person to ask, huh?”