Back on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #4)

Back on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #4) Page 46
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Back on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #4) Page 46

Susan turned to Alix, her expression unreadable.

“It isn’t just street kids, either. It’s everyone. I couldn’t have chosen a woman with a kinder heart. She cares about people and they see that and love her back.” He paused. “I see the way kids gravitate toward her. She doesn’t judge them, she listens with love and understanding and tells them there’s a better way.”

Once more Susan’s eyes locked with Alix’s.

“Jordan, would you bring me the plate?” his father called out from his position at the barbecue. “These ribs are done to perfection.”

“Sure thing!” Jordan disappeared into the kitchen.

Susan hung her head. “I feel like such a fool, Alix.”

“Why?” she asked. After his little speech about forgiveness, Alix couldn’t possibly be angry. It hurt, what his mother had said, and it would take a while for that pain to go away; nevertheless, this was an important relationship to both her and Jordan. “You love your son and you want the best wife for him. I can’t be upset about that.”

“It’s just…Oh, I feel so foolish. Jordan’s right. You’re going to make him a wonderful wife, and you’re going to be a good pastor’s wife, too.”

She shrugged. “I plan to try.”

“Please,” Susan whispered and her voice cracked as tears filled her eyes. “Don’t hate me.”

Alix took the other woman’s hand. “I don’t.”

“I’ve given you every reason to dislike me and despite that you’ve been nothing but kind. I’m so sorry. Can we put this behind us?”

“Isn’t that what the Lord’s Prayer is all about?” Alix asked. “Asking God to forgive us our trespasses as we forgive others’?”

Susan smiled through her tears. “I’ve been married to Larry for thirty-eight years and been a pastor’s wife all that time, yet it seems I have much to learn from you.” She stood, and came around the table.

Alix met her halfway and they held each other fiercely.

This was a new beginning—the beginning Alix had been hoping for.

CHAPTER 34

Colette Blake

Colette couldn’t sleep. It might as well be noon instead of three o’clock in the middle of a moonless night.

Every time she closed her eyes, all Colette could think about was Christian. The scenarios that ran through her tortured mind were so terrifying, she had to force herself not to scream or cry. Every day without news intensified her fear that Christian would never be found. China was a huge country and no one seemed to have any idea where Christian might be. No one was saying anything, at any rate.

Elizabeth had asked Colette to stay with her until this was resolved, one way or another. But how much longer should they continue to hold out hope?

Elliott Dempsey had landed in Beijing and phoned to tell them he’d spoken to the U.S. embassy. He’d hired an investigative team and was awaiting word. He phoned at least once a day with an update. So far every lead had come to an abrupt dead end. Christian had never arrived in Zhongshan—but this was information Colette already had. His trail began and ended in Beijing.

Climbing silently out of bed, Colette crept down the stairs. A glass of milk might help relax her enough to sleep.

When she came into the kitchen, Colette was surprised to find Elizabeth sitting at the table, dressed in a long robe. Her white hair hung down around her shoulders.

Elizabeth gave her a tired smile. “You couldn’t sleep, either?” she asked.

Colette shook her head. “I came down for a glass of milk.”

“I did, too, but it hasn’t done me any good,” the old woman said. “I doubt it’ll help you, either.”

“Give it time.” It wasn’t like Elizabeth to be so negative.

“Time! I’ve been sitting here for an hour and I don’t feel the slightest bit tired yet.”

“You haven’t slept in days.”

Elizabeth grimaced. “Neither have you.”

That was true. Ever since she’d gotten word, Colette hadn’t been able to rest for more than an hour or two. She couldn’t release the tension—and the fear—that held her in its grip.

“Sit down,” Elizabeth said. “We should talk.”

Colette poured the milk, then sat at the wooden table, wondering what Elizabeth could possibly say that hadn’t already been said a hundred times.

“Christian and I spoke the night before he left,” the old woman began. “I wasn’t going to tell you, but I think now…now that it’s been nearly ten days without word…Well, I’ve decided you have a right to know.” She paused and Colette waited for her to go on, hardly daring to breathe.

“He came to me after I tried to play matchmaker.” She revealed a hint of a smile and motioned with her hands, as if to say that entire scheme had been a failure. “I’m no good at subterfuge.”

“It was sweet of you to try.”

Elizabeth’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s a compliment compared to what Christian had to say on the subject.”

“I can imagine.” As long as she’d worked for him, Christian had never refrained from expressing his feelings.

“He told me it was better for both of you if he stayed away.” Elizabeth scowled in disapproval. “I argued with him but it got me nowhere. Men! I never met one with a lick of sense. Even Charles…” Sighing, she lifted her shoulders in a resigned shrug. “Never mind, this is about Christian and not Charles, although they’re more alike than I realized.”

She sighed again. “Christian also said there were things he couldn’t discuss. Why he’d say that to me, I have no idea. I tried to get him to talk but he refused. He said it was safer if I didn’t know.” Elizabeth seemed perturbed at his reticence. “He did tell me something significant, though. Perhaps he had a premonition that he wouldn’t return, but…”

“Tell me!” Colette pleaded.

“It should come as no surprise. My nephew loves you.”

Colette brought her hand to her throat. “He actually told you that?”

Elizabeth snorted. “Do you think I’m making it up?”

“No, but…” Tears filled her eyes.

“He’s in some kind of trouble,” his great-aunt said thoughtfully. “He wouldn’t tell me, no matter how hard I pressed.”

Colette lowered her head. “I know what it is.”

Elizabeth stared at her, incredulous. “You know and you haven’t said anything to me?”

“It’s something you won’t want to hear.”

“You’d best tell me right this minute, young woman.”

And so Colette did, describing what she’d found on his computer and her own reaction to it. She told Elizabeth about everything, including the anonymous letter she’d written to the INS, her suspicions about where he was now and why.

The old woman didn’t ask a single question until Colette had finished. “You don’t seriously believe my nephew’s involved in human trafficking?” she said, incredulous.

“I…I’m not sure what to believe.”

“My dear girl. Christian would no more sink to that level than I would. If you had a single active brain cell, you’d know that.” Then, more sympathetically, she asked, “Have you been carrying this burden all these months?”

“I know what I saw,” she said defensively.

“Or what you thought you saw,” the old woman countered.

“He didn’t deny it.”

This gave Elizabeth pause, but only for a moment. “I refuse to believe it.”

The baby moved, reminding Colette how much she had at stake. “The only thing we can do is ask Christian himself—once he’s back,” she said, unwilling to accept that he wouldn’t return. Hope was all they had to live on, and for now it was enough to see her through another day.

They were silent for a long time after that.

“I have contacts in the government,” Elizabeth eventually said. “I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“But—”

“You should never have kept this information to yourself, Colette.”

“But…”

“Had I known, I could have acted sooner.”

“Who will you ask?”

She straightened. “Charles and I were good friends with the parents of our state senator.”

“A…senator?”

“He’ll get me the information I need. I wish you’d had the common sense to tell me all this before now,” she complained again.

“Me, too, but I didn’t want to distress you.”

“Never mind.” Elizabeth patted her hand. “At least you’ve told me. I’ll deal with it, and we’ll find out the truth, no matter how uncomfortable it is.”

“Thank you,” Colette said. “And you might’ve said something about what Christian told you.”

Elizabeth had the grace to smile. “Yes, my dear, I suppose I should have.” She gazed at Colette with somber eyes. “Let me tell you this. You hold his heart in the palm of your hand.”

Colette felt a warmth that spread through her whole body. “And he has mine. All I hope is that he knows it.”

Christian’s great-aunt relaxed in her chair. “He visited me late that night—the night before he left. It was well past the time I generally retire, but I’d been reading. I’d just headed up to bed when he came unexpectedly to the house. I spoke to him about his manners, but I let him in.” She shook her head in some amusement. “Men, especially the younger ones, have no sense of propriety.”

Christian’s visit had occurred the same night she’d gone to him. The night he’d kissed her.

“We had tea in the library,” Elizabeth said, “and it was the best visit I’ve had with him in years. It reminded me of when he was a boy….” Her voice grew soft with affection.

Colette closed her eyes, picturing Christian with his aunt in this room she’d come to love, with its marble fireplace and row upon row of books. She could so easily see him there, leaning forward intently as he spoke.

“He told me about your…night together,” Elizabeth continued, eyebrows raised. “Naturally, I didn’t let on that I knew all about it—and its consequences.”

“Thank you,” was all Colette could say.

“It wasn’t just for your sake, my dear girl. My nephew was making his grand confession. He was in a wretched state, certain that his impulsiveness had ruined everything. I wasn’t about to admit that you’d already shared your secret with me.”

“I’m…glad.”

“He told me, as you had, that you’d worked for him for five years and that he’d never looked upon you as anything more than a valued assistant—until after your husband’s death. He was also sure you’d seen him only as your employer. Until then…”

“I had.”

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