Longwalker's Child

Gray gave the receptionist a quick summary of what had taken place. After a brief wait on hold, a man answered and identified himself as the doctor.

“Tell me exactly what happened,” Prescott ordered, concern in his voice.

“One minute we were talking and the next she was out like a light.” Gray rotated the bottle in his hand to verify the name when the doctor asked about medication. “Yes, the open bottle was next to the sink, but I have no idea if she took a tablet.”

“This is the first episode Lauren has had in quite some time,” Prescott said, and then hesitated as if considering the best course of action. “She’ll sleep for several hours. When she wakes up she’ll be weak, and the pain will likely come again. Just keep her comfortable and have her call me as soon as she’s up and around again. I can come by tonight if she needs me.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, what’s wrong with her?” Gray ventured, and then quickly added, “I haven’t known her very long.”

There was a long pause before Prescott responded. “She has cluster headaches,” he finally explained. “They’re similar to migraines, but the cluster effect makes them more intense. She doesn’t have them often anymore, but when they strike they’re debilitating. It’s not as bad as it sounds, Mr…. what did you say your name was?”

“Longwalker. Gray Longwalker.”

“Mr. Longwalker, Lauren’s headaches appear to be mainly related to stress. As long as she stays clear of any major stress she doesn’t have any problems. I have no idea of your relationship with Lauren, but I sincerely hope you won’t let this incident color your opinion of her. Lauren’s a terrific young woman. Obviously, though, there’s something stressful going on in her life right now.”

Gray assured the doctor he would have Lauren call him. He pushed the off button and placed the cordless receiver back in its cradle. He swallowed hard as he considered Dr. Prescott’s words.

Stress.

He had done this to Lauren Whitmore. Gray shook off the regret and forced away the guilt. The woman had chosen to come between him and his child. She had, in effect, brought this particular stress upon herself, he rationalized, but it didn’t relieve the guilt nagging at him.

When Gray returned to the bedroom, Sarah sat in the exact same place he had left her, still stroking Lauren’s cheek. Gray eased down on the edge of the bed feeling sorely out of place in the role of caretaker to anyone but himself.

“Is my mommy gonna be okay?” She looked up at Gray with a worried gaze that squeezed his heart.

“Yes.” He smiled and awkwardly patted her shoulder. “She’ll sleep for a while, but the doctor says she’s going to be fine.” He quashed the renewed rush of guilt that crowded his chest.

“Good.” Sarah frowned then, her whole face puckered in the process. “I don’t want my new mommy to go to Heaven like my old mommy did.”

Gray swallowed back the emotion that pushed up into his throat. He’d never in his life been an emotional man. He didn’t quite understand his reaction. Maybe he was tired from the trip and all the anger he had felt at life these past two days.

“Don’t worry, Sarah. She’ll be fine.”

“You promise?” She stared up at him, tears brimming.

“I promise,” he said, his voice strained, almost harsh.

Gray had wished for many things since he had learned of his child’s existence, not the least of which was the blackest curse he knew to fall upon the person’s head responsible for trying to keep his child from him.

Right now, though, he prayed with his entire being that Lauren Whitmore would be okay.

For Sarah’s sake.

LAUREN DRIFTED somewhere between asleep and awake well before her eyes would obey the command to open. Wherever she was, darkness surrounded her. No glimmer of light shone through her closed lids. She could hear something…the sound vaguely familiar.

She tried to reach out, to feel and maybe identify her surroundings despite the darkness, but her arms were so heavy that she couldn’t move. Her head hurt.

The sound was louder now.

Water.

Water was filling the car. Lauren was trapped. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe…

Fear crowded her throat and robbed her of rational thought. She struggled against the seat belt, but couldn’t quite free herself. The water continued to rise around her.

Air…she needed air.

Hold your breath, Lauren, hold your breath. Kevin… She reached for him…

Lauren sat straight up in bed, gasping for air.

A dream. It was only a dream, she realized. The accident was a long time ago. It was over now. She was safe.

Weak as a kitten she cradled her head in her hands and willed the lingering remnants of pain to retreat. She massaged her forehead and then pressed the tips of her fingers against her temples in an effort to keep the raging beast at bay.

Slowly, very slowly, the perception of time and place returned.

She was home. And she was okay.

Just a headache and a nightmare. It had been a long time since she’d had either. Not since Sharon’s death.

She should get up and check on Sarah….

The memory of what had taken place just prior to her blackout slammed into Lauren’s head. She threw back the coverlet, dropped her feet to the floor and forced herself to stand. A wave of nausea washed over her when she took a step, but she ignored it and forced another step and then another after that.

She had to find Sarah.

Lauren had no idea how long she had been out. Longwalker could have taken Sarah anywhere by now. She swallowed back the metallic taste of fear. Goose bumps skittered across her skin as adrenaline surged through her body, giving her the strength she needed to stagger across the room.

Once in the dark hall, her hopes plummeted. The house was entirely too quiet and dark.

No playing-child noises. No television sounds. Nothing.

Lauren moved down the hall, her heart racing, urging her to hurry. She tried to breathe more slowly, but failed. Her hold on composure thin at best, she kept one shaky hand against the wall for balance.

God…Sarah has to be here. She just has to be here.

Lauren blinked back the tears threatening and tried to recall the details of Longwalker’s truck. The police would need that information. She frowned with the effort of concentration. Her head felt like a bomb that had already exploded once and was prepared to do so again.

Think, Lauren, think. Black, she knew it had been black and new looking. But that’s all she remembered.

She should never have opened the door. Never have allowed him inside. Why hadn’t she called the sheriff?

Now he had Sarah.

Oh, God. How would she ever find her? If Gray Longwalker disappeared again, she’d never find Sarah.

The night’s full moon had pitched the dimly lit living room into long shadows. The television taunted her with its black screen. Panic rushed anew through Lauren then.