The Secret Heiress. Terri Reed
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the information she’d learned of her birth mother’s death and try to talk her into leaving—hiding somewhere until the police found the person who had tried to kill her. He let go of her hand, took her by the shoulders and steered her toward the door.
She went willingly but as they reached the threshold she stopped abruptly. “He’s in danger.”
“It could be the ravings of a dying man,” Don insisted in a low voice.
Caroline wiped at her tears. “We have to find out for sure.”
“No, we should leave now before the storm gets any worse.”
Proud and beautiful, she held his gaze, her chin at a defiant angle, her shoulders squared. “Gorgeous” wouldn’t be swayed. “I’m not leaving until I know what’s going on. If someone is hurting him then it’s up to us to stop it.”
Determined. Stubborn. And courageous. A potent mix that could get her killed. Respect for this gutsy lady grew even as he prepared to counter any argument. “If a crime is being committed, it’s up to the police to stop it. You’re not any safer here than he is. Remember, someone tried to kill you. That person could be in this house.”
“Of course I’m safe. I have you.”
Her confidence in his abilities sent pleasure curling through his system. He hoped he lived up to her expectations.
Her gaze shifted back toward her grandfather. “He needs protection. If what he claims is true, then he must be a victim of the same person who has been attacking me.” The plea in her eyes tugged at Don. “Please, we have to help him.”
Don lifted a hand to capture one last stray tear that fell from her lovely amber eyes. “You have such a tender and stubborn heart.”
A smile touched her lips and pleasure lit up her eyes. “Does that mean we’ll stay? You’ll protect both of us?”
Did he have a choice? Yes. But he couldn’t walk away and leave her here alone. He had a job to do. He’d see it through to the end. “We can talk to his doctor and find out what’s going on with his health.”
“That’s a start.” She walked back toward her grandfather. “How do we contact Dr. Reese?”
“Ask Horace or Mary,” Elijah said, his raspy voice sounding weak.
Don started forward. “Mary?”
“Mary is Horace’s wife.”
A sharp burst of thunder rattled the window. On its heels followed a loud explosion that shuddered through the house. The sound filled the room, close and intense. What little light the lamp provided winked out throwing the room into blackness. Caroline let out a startled squawk echoed by another female shriek farther away in the house. Somewhere outside, dogs barked.
Acting on training and instinct, Don pulled Caroline to the floor and covered her with his body. For a split second, he was catapulted back in time to Afghanistan. His unit had been pinned down under enemy fire in Kandahar. Screams of dying soldiers surrounded him. The dust of mortar shells demolishing the walls of the building where they’d taken refuge filled his nostrils. He could still feel the grit on his skin, in his eyes. Feel the despair building in his chest. The unspoken prayer on his tongue…
“Don?”
Shaking off the memory with a shudder, he eased off Caroline. “You okay?”
“Yes.”
Senses on high alert, Don evaluated the threat level. Whatever had exploded had been outside. No one else had entered the room and there hadn’t been any subsequent explosions or gunshots. For the moment they were safe. He got his feet beneath him and helped Caroline up.
“Mr. Maddox?”
“Still here,” he said with a wry note in his voice.
“What was that?” She clutched his arm as they rose to their feet.
“Not sure.” Quickly orienting himself to the dark, he led her to the window and drew back the curtain. Outside, the answer was clear. A huge oak tree a couple yards from the house had been split in two by lightning. Half of the tree’s charred remains had landed across the power lines. Sparks danced from the exposed wires torn from their fasteners. The other half of the tree landed in the driveway, effectively blocking the rental car.
Caution traipsed up his spine. What were the chances that lightning would strike that tree causing it to fall in exactly that way? He wanted to inspect the trunk. But that would have to wait until he had Caroline in a secure location.
“I guess the option of leaving before the storm gets worse is off the table,” Caroline murmured.
“We can borrow a car.”
She made a scoffing noise. “No.”
“Roger that.” Of course she wouldn’t give in that easily.
Horace appeared in the doorway carrying a lit candle. The glow pushed the shadows to the corners. “Mr. Maddox?”
“We’re okay here,” Elijah answered from the bed. “The others?”
“Everyone is accounted for, sir.” He moved all the way into the room to offer Don a pewter candleholder with a thick unlit candle in the center. “Just until the backup generator kicks in.”
Don took the holder, tipping it so the wick could touch the lit one in Horace’s hand. “Is the power out in the whole house?”
Horace nodded. “Yes. Phone lines down, too. Mrs. Maddox would like to meet you downstairs.” From the research, Don knew that must be Abigail Maddox, the wife of Caroline’s uncle Samuel.
“I don’t think we should leave Mr. Maddox,” Caroline said.
From the bed, Elijah said, “Go on, child. I’m tired and need to rest. Mary will be along shortly to keep me company.”
“Nothing can be done at the moment,” Don stated in a low voice.
“We’ll return shortly,” Caroline assured her grandfather.
Elijah nodded, but his gaze narrowed to Don. “Keep her safe.”
“Of course,” Don replied.
They followed Horace downstairs. When they hit the entryway, quick footsteps coming down the hall heralded the arrival of a stylish woman in her early forties wearing tailored black slacks, a pink cashmere sweater and pearls. Her light blond hair was coiffed in an elegant updo. She carried a lit hurricane lamp that added a bright glow to Don’s candle.
The woman came to a stop in front of Caroline. “You look just like Isabella,” she said in clipped modulated tones, her eyes assessing.
Hearing of her likeness to Isabella from this woman was different than hearing it from Elijah. There was no sentiment in Abigail’s matter-of-fact tone. Just a statement of fact that left Caroline feeling hollow. Elijah had clearly loved his daughter, but there was no indication of warmth or affection coming from her sister-in-law.
“This is Caroline Tully and I’m Don Cavanaugh. Her fiancé,” Don said after a tense heartbeat. “And you are?”
“Abigail Maddox.” Gesturing to the teens coming down the stairs, she said, “My children, Landon and Lilly. Fraternal twins.”
Finding her voice, Caroline said, “Nice to meet you.”
“Children, please go out and retrieve…your cousin and her fiancé’s travel cases and bring them in,” Abigail said.
Caroline’s stomach clenched. Cousins. She’d always wanted cousins. Neither of her adopted parents had siblings. But surely they shouldn’t be sent out into the storm. Lightning had just struck.
The twins’ eyebrows dipped in tandem.
“That’s Horace’s job, Mother,”