He must come with her. Be with her.
She walked toward the carriage house. Her hair, tangled around her face, dripped into her eyes, but she walked unhurried.
No locks here, she thought at the wide doors. Who would dare trespass on Harper land?
She would.
The door creaked as she pulled it open. Even in the gloom, she could see the shine of the carriages. No dull wheels for the great master. Big, glossy carriages to carry him and his whore-wife, his mewling daughters, wherever they chose to go.
While the mother of his son, the creator of life, drove in a stolen wagon.
Oh, he would pay.
She stood in the open doorway, swaying as her mind rolled in circles, buzzing rings of rage and confusion and terrible love. She forgot where she was, what she was, why. Then the purpose looped around once more.
Could she risk a light? Dare she? She must, she must. She couldn’t see in the dark.
Not yet.
Though her fingers shook with cold as she lighted a lamp, she didn’t feel it. The heat still burned through her, and made her smile as she saw the hank of rope.
There now, that would do, that would do nicely.
She left the lamp burning, the door open as she walked back out into the rain.
WHEN HARPER TURNED, reached for her, she wasn’t there. He half woke, stretching his arm out farther, expecting to meet her skin.
“Hayley?”
He murmured her name, pushed onto his elbow. His first thought was that she’d gone in to Lily, but he heard nothing from the bedside monitor.
It took him a few seconds longer to realize what he did hear.
The rain was too loud. Pushing up quickly he saw the terrace doors were open. He rolled out, grabbing his jeans.
“Hayley!” He dragged on his jeans, bolted for the door. He saw nothing but the rain and the dark.
Rain pelted him, his heart constricted to an ice chip in his chest. On a panicked oath, he rushed back inside, and into Lily’s room.
The baby slept, peacefully. Her mother wasn’t there.
He strode back to the bedroom, grabbed the monitor, and, shoving it in his back pocket, went out to find her.
Calling for her, he bolted down the steps. The carriage house, he thought. He’d always believed Amelia had gone there. The night he’d seen her in the garden when he’d been a child, he’d been sure that’s where she’d been going.
Her gown had been wet and muddy, he remembered as he ran. As if she’d been in the rain.
He knew his way, even in the dark. There was no turn of the path that wasn’t familiar to him. He saw his front door hanging open, felt a trip of relief.
“Hayley!” He slapped on the light as he rushed in.
The floor was wet, and muddy footprints crossed the room, into the kitchen. He knew the house was empty even before he called for her again, before he ran through it, heart thundering, looking for her.
This time he grabbed the phone, speed-dialing as he ran back out.
“Mama, Hayley’s gone. She went outside. I can’t find her. She’s—oh Jesus, I see her. Third floor. She’s on the third floor terrace.”
He tossed the phone aside and kept running.
She didn’t turn when he shouted her name, but continued to cross the terrace like a wraith. His feet skidded on wet stone, and flowers were crushed as he leaped off the path into beds to cut to the stairs leading up.
Lungs burning, heart screaming, he bounded up.
He reached the third level as she flung open a door.
She hesitated when he called out to her, and slowly turned her head to face him. And smiled. “Death for life.”
“No.”
He made the last leap, grabbed her arm and jerked her inside out of the rain. “No,” he said again, and wrapped his arms around her. “Feel me. You know who I am. You know who you are. Feel me.”
He tightened his grip when she struggled. Held her close and warm even as her head whipped from side to side and her teeth snapped like a wild dog’s.
“I will have my son!”
“You have a daughter. You have Lily. Lily’s sleeping. Hayley, stay with us.”
And swept her up in his arms when her body sagged.
“I’m cold. Harper, I’m cold.”
“It’s all right. You’re all right.” He carried her across the wide ballroom with its ghostly dust sheets as rain lashed windows.
Before he reached the door, Mitch shoved it open. After one quick glance, Mitch let out a breath. “Your mother went to check on Lily. What happened?”
“Not now.” With Hayley shivering in his arms, Harper moved by Mitch. “We’ll deal with it later. She needs to get warm and dry. The rest will have to wait.”nineteen
HE HAD HER bundled in a blanket from neck to toe, and sat behind her on the bed drying her hair with a towel.
“I don’t remember getting up. I don’t remember going out.”
“Are you warm enough?”
“Yeah.” Except for the sheen of ice inside her bones. She wondered if any heat would ever reach that deep in her again. “I don’t know how long I was out there.”