All Is Bright Page 6

  The odor of gasoline burned her throat and eyes, and she swung her head frantically from side to side looking for something to help her get away from this madman. Her nail clippers! They were in the tiny right pocket of her dress, and she didn’t know if she could reach them or not, but she pulled her left arm around as far as she could and managed to slide her fingers into the fabric.

  The small metallic piece slid away from her, and she sucked in a breath through her nose. The sting of gas in her eyes made them water, but she concentrated and tried to reach just a little farther with her fingers.

  Just a little more.

  He threw the empty bottle to the gazebo floor where it bounced, then rolled toward her. “Once you’re out of the way, Delilah, Vanessa will see how right we are for each other, especially with that idiot Gage out of the way. I’ve got it all planned out.”

  Her eyes widened at his mention of Gage. Vanessa had said she tried to call Gage and hadn’t been able to reach him.

  He must have seen her shock because he smiled. “I cut his brake lines.”

  The giggle that escaped him raised the hair on the back of her neck, and she struggled to reach the nail clippers again. The nail on her middle finger just barely touched it, and she wiggled on the gazebo floor to push the tiny tool a little higher in her pocket. She managed to pin it between her thumb and index finger.

  A tiny flame flared in the darkness. He stared at it with a bemused expression, waving a lighter back and forth. “Fire is cleansing. It will clear out all traces of your prejudice against me and will wipe the slate clean. I can start fresh with Vanessa. Everyone deserves a second chance, don’t you think?”

  She nodded as she managed to get the clippers open, then nipped at the duct tape. If only she could talk to Keith. Despair settled in her limbs. She would be too late. He was going to start the fire any second, and the sea breeze would fan the flames quickly.

  Her throat burned with the stench of the gasoline as the knowledge of her impending death settled in her chest. Maybe the end would come quickly, and she would wake up in heaven with no memory of what she had to pass through to get there. Maybe there would be enough smoke that she’d asphyxiate before the fire engulfed her.

  He turned to stare at her one last time, then knelt and put the flame to the gasoline. A huge whoosh knocked him back on his heels and into a pool of gasoline. In seconds the flames circled his jeans and scampered up his shirt.

  Screaming, he rushed through the door and began to roll in the grass. The open door beckoned her as her last possible chance of escape. She tried to stumble to her feet, but her bound feet made it impossible. She’d have to crawl through the flames to escape, and she couldn’t do that without setting fire to her clothes.

  She worked the nail clippers against the tape again, then flexed her arms. The tape gave a little, and she set the edges of the metal against another area of tape.

  Thick, acrid smoke rolled from the flames licking eagerly at the wooden floor, and she gulped in fresh air from a crack between boards in the floor, then saw a bottle of water that had rolled under the bench. If she could get free, maybe she could drench herself in water, then run through the flames.

  She worked at the tape again, and the tight bands at her wrist loosened again. Setting her jaw, she put all her strength into releasing her wrists. Her upper arms and shoulders screamed with the effort, but she ignored the pain.

  Almost there.

  Then her arms were free. She sat up and ripped the tape from her ankles. The smoke was thicker up here with her head three feet above the floor. She choked on the smoke, then reached over and grabbed the water bottle. It was half full. She twisted off the cap, then looked at the fire again.

  There was no way she could get through those flames with this little bit of water.

  She thought she heard someone shout her name, but it was hard to hear over the roaring of the flames as the floorboards began to burn furiously. Something banged by her head, and she turned to see Tom peering through the screen to her right as the smoke rolled around his head.

  “Tom, I’m here!” She staggered to her feet, but the heat was intense, and the smoke was so bad tears instantly filled her eyes and obscured her vision even more.

  She staggered toward where she’d seen Tom, but pounding footsteps came from the doorway. A bulky figure leaped through the flames and landed in the center of the gazebo. Tom rolled to a stop, then leaped to his feet and grabbed her arm. Without a word he picked her up, then howling at the top of his lungs, he ran at the screen.

  Delilah clung to his neck, and as his shoulder busted through the screen, she kicked at it with her feet. They struck the ground together, but even though Tom’s bulk took the brunt of the fall, the air whooshed out of Delilah’s lungs. They rolled over and over on the cold grass before coming to a rest. She was atop him with her head cradled on his chest.

  Flames licked up the sides of the gazebo, and as they both sat up, she was dimly aware of other figures rushing toward them, of Libby calling her name.

  Tom pulled her close and kissed her temple. “Thank God, thank God,” he whispered.

  NINE

  DELILAH’S MUSCLES PROTESTED WITH EVERY MOVE, BUT SHE was too glad to be alive to care. Christmas eve was her favorite day of the season. The Christmas tree twinkled with white lights, and their reflected glory shimmered off the silver ornaments. Everyone was gathered around the tree and laughing as they exchanged one present each until tomorrow.

  Relishing the firmness of Tom’s shoulder against her own, she intended to enjoy every moment of a day she didn’t think she’d see. He looked impossibly handsome with his button-down red oxford shirt tucked into slim-fitting jeans.

  Little Noah had been baby Jesus in the Christmas play at the church, and afterward they’d gathered here at Tidewater Inn. The baby had fallen asleep after getting his Captain Calamari toy, and Alec carried him off to bed, then returned to enjoy eggnog and popcorn with the rest of the group. Libby’s Aunt Pearl, Alec’s nephew Zach, Vanessa, and her younger half brother, Brent, lounged around the room with their snacks and crumpled paper strewn around the room. Even Gage was here. He’d discovered the damage to his brake line before he’d had an accident.

  Delilah had been shy about giving Tom the book she bought him, but it was now or never. She slid off the sofa and rooted around under the enormous tree until her fingers closed on it. She hid a wince as her burned fingers scraped across the wrapping paper.

  A few aches and pains were nothing compared to what Keith was enduring. He was in ICU in Richmond with second and third-degree burns. A guard was outside his door, but it was unlikely he would live long enough to be prosecuted.

  Shyness enveloped her as she sat back down on the sofa. “I have something for you.” Was she being presumptuous? He hadn’t given her a gift. Maybe she was reading more into their budding relationship than he felt.

  Or maybe he is waiting on me to show some effort too.

  His fingers closed over the package, wrapped in Superman Christmas wrap. “I can’t wait to see what you picked.” He lifted a brow at the sight of the paper. “Superman?”

  “I’d be dead if not for my own personal Superman.” She didn’t care if he thought she was corny to say something like that. She’d gone to bed thanking God he’d sent a man who cared enough about her to risk a fiery inferno to save her.

  Had she chosen a book he’d like? She knew his heart, that he cared about helping others no matter what the cost. Biting her lip, she waited for him to tear the paper off the book and turn it over and reveal the title: George Washington’s Secret Six: The Spy Ring That Saved the American Revolution.

  His grin beamed. “I’ve been wanting to read this.” He dug out his phone and showed her the note with a list of books he wanted to read. The top book was the one in his hand. “How did you know?”

  Did she dare to reveal her thoughts? Staring at the emotion
in his eyes, she decided if he could risk burns, how could she stay silent? “I know you love history, and I wanted you to read about others who were as brave as you. You’re the kind of man who would risk anything for God and country, just like these men. You work quietly in the background to do all you can to hold back the forces of darkness, just like Washington’s men.”

  His face went a little pink. “I wish I had a funny comeback right about now, but I’m speechless.” Car lights swept through the window from outside, and he reached over to take her hand. He turned it over and touched the blisters on her fingers. “I think that’s the arrival of your Christmas present. It might make you forget about these. At least I hope so.”

  So that’s why he hadn’t given her a present yet. “You had it delivered?” She stayed put as he got up to answer the door. Maybe he’d ordered it late. Heavens, he’d been so caught up in keeping her safe, when had he had the time to shop?

  “You’ll see.” He went to the door and stepped outside.

  She heard footsteps up the steps and across the porch, more than one set. Craning her neck, she tried to see through the window, but it was too dark to make out much other than it appeared to be a family, probably the late arrivals she’d been warned about. He’d be disappointed it wasn’t his delivery. Sighing, she rose to attend to her duties.

  Libby rose as well and motioned to her to sit back down. “I’ve got this. The doctor said you aren’t to do anything for at least a week, and I mean to make sure you obey him.”

  Delilah sank back onto the sofa and took a sip of her eggnog. Two little girls entered the room first. She guessed them to be about two years apart, maybe six and eight. A pretty woman in her late thirties with dark-brown hair entered next, and she smiled as she looked around the room.

  Her gaze settled on Delilah and stayed there. “I would have recognized you anywhere. The family resemblance can’t be missed.”

  Delilah smiled back in spite of her confusion. The woman obviously had her mixed up with someone else. She had no family left.

  Tom and another man entered right behind the woman. The guy was about forty with dark hair trimmed close to his head in a military cut. He had the erect bearing of a Marine, and something about him caught her attention. He looked like someone she knew, but she couldn’t quite place who.

  He took a step forward. “Delilah.”

  His intent gaze disconcerted her, and she rose with her hands clutched together. “Do I know you?” Something about him reminded her of her father, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

  Tom shoved his hands in his pockets. “Delilah, this is Adam.”

  Adam who? Delilah frowned and stared harder at the man. Then Tom’s words took root. Her Adam? “A-Adam? You’re not my brother.”

  “You look just like Mom.” His voice was hoarse, and he took another step closer. “I thought you were dead, Delilah. They told me you died too.”

  She took it all in, the curve of his jaw, the cleft in his chin that was like Dad’s, the dimple in the left cheek. “Adam.” She barely got the word out.

  He opened his arms and she went into them. The cologne, Tommy Hilfiger, was the same one he’d worn when he left home. Twenty years had passed, but they all vanished in a moment.

  She pressed her face against his shirt and let the tears fall. “Adam, oh Adam.”

  His hug was fierce, and she could feel the tremble in his arm. A sob escaped him, and she heard him gulp back any more sounds. Lifting her head, she saw him swallow hard, then send an appealing glance toward the woman.

  Delilah turned her attention to her new sister-in-law. And nieces. The girls were her nieces. She saw the resemblance now. They looked like miniature versions of Delilah herself when she was that small.

  She had family, nieces, a new sister. And Adam. She buried her face back in his chest.

  “T-This is my wife, Hannah. And our girls, Clara and Eloise.”

  Delilah lifted her head again but she couldn’t speak, couldn’t force a single syllable past her tight throat. Tears blurred her vision, and she looked at Tom, who was beaming brighter than any Christmas light.

  “You did this?” she managed to choke out.

  He shrugged. “Merry Christmas.”

  She wanted to sweep them all into a hug and hear every single thing that had gone on in her brother’s life. Leaving the shelter of his arms, she knelt to talk to her new nieces. Family. What a precious word. Tom had changed her life in so many ways. She glanced back at him and saw his tender gaze filled with so much promise. She was ready to take the next step.

  EPILOGUE

  Three Years Later

  THE COTTAGE TOM HAD BOUGHT DELILAH WAS JUST DOWN the road from Tidewater Inn, so she’d been able to continue her job. From the kitchen window at the inn, she could see the slashes of color from her rose garden while she prepared meals for the guests. With the window open on this late-September day, she could smell the scent of the sea and hear the waves rolling to shore.

  She touched the swell of her belly and smiled. She wouldn’t be able to work much longer. The baby was due anytime, and Libby only let her cook dinner now. The new girl they’d hired was working out well, and knowing that relieved a lot of Delilah’s stress.

  Her back ached a bit and she rubbed it.

  “You doing okay, honey?” Tom touched her on the shoulder.

  She turned and smiled at him. “I didn’t hear you come in. I’m fine, just a little backache. Dinner is in the oven and I’m ready to go home.”

  Home. Who would have thought she would have a real home with a loving husband and a baby on the way? God was so good. He’d been good before he gave her such an awesome gift as Tom, but every day she was thankful for his gifts.

  A sudden cramp hit her in the back, harder this time, and she nearly cried out as her legs gave out under her.

  “Delilah?”

  Before she could reassure him, Tom had swept her up in his arms and was carrying her out of the kitchen.

  “It’s nothing, Tom. Just a cramp.” But as he reached the parlor, she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. “I-I might be wrong. I think maybe I’m in labor.”

  Panic flared in his brown eyes, and he laid her gently on the sofa. Thankfully, the parlor was empty of guests, who were all out enjoying the lovely fall day. “I think you’d better get me home before everyone comes back.”

  Tom shook his head. “I don’t think there’s time. Libby!”

  Libby’s footsteps sounded on the hardwood floors, and she burst into the room. “Is it the baby?”

  “I think so. Would you call Amy? Where should I put Delilah? She can’t deliver in here.”

  “A guest suite just down the hall is empty. You won’t have to get her upstairs.” Libby pulled out her cell phone and continued to direct Tom.

  Delilah wanted to tell them first babies always gave plenty of warning, then another sharp cramp hit her and she couldn’t bite back a tiny whimper. Come to think of it, her back had been bothering her since this morning.

  Tom scooped her up again and rushed down the hall after Libby. Libby unlocked the door to the Tidewater Suite, their most expensive accommodations. Its seafoam-blue walls and calming white linens reached out to embrace her.

  She shook her head and tried to protest. “I don’t want to mess up anything in here.”

  “Amy left supplies and instructions. I’ve got this covered.” Libby stripped off the quilt and blankets, then pulled back the sheets. “Hang on.” She returned a few moments later with water-proof pads she spread onto the sheets. “Get her into bed, Tom. I’ve got a delivery nightgown we can get her into if you start getting her undressed.”

  “I can take care of myself. Tom, put me down.” Much to her surprise, he grinned and eased her to her feet. Before another cramp could hit, she yanked off her shirt and sat on the edge of the bed to try to get out of her yoga pants, the most comfortable
attire for this late in her pregnancy.

  Libby returned with a light-blue cotton nightgown. “Amy is on her way. Fifteen minutes. This is a short one so it will be easy to maneuver during delivery, and you’ll be able to nurse in it.”

  In a jiffy Tom and Libby had her clothed with the nightgown and resting in bed. Just in time, too, because another sharp cramp gripped her back. Tears came to her eyes, and she bit back another groan. She refused to be a screamer.

  Tom sat beside her on the bed and rubbed her lower back. “Remember how to breathe, honey.”

  Of course. This was labor, not some random back pain. She nodded. She was ready for this.

  She and Tom hadn’t wanted to know what gender their baby was, so this little one would be a complete surprise. Her pulse raced. She would soon hold her baby in her arms. Tom’s baby. Our baby.

  By the time Amy arrived, the pains had changed and were encasing Delilah’s entire midsection. Amy had been a nurse midwife for many years and had delivered little Noah as well as many of the island babies in the past two years. Her brisk, competent manner put Delilah at ease, and she did everything she was told to do.

  Two hours later, a tiny red-faced bundle slid into Tom’s arms. Tears tracked down his face as he cradled their tiny child in his arms. “Delilah, it’s a girl. She’s beautiful, just like her mama.” He carried her to the head of the bed to place her in Delilah’s arms.

  A thatch of dark hair topped the red and wrinkled face. The baby screwed up her face and squawked with gusto. Delilah touched her petal-soft skin. “What should we call her, Tom?”

  They’d waited to pick out a name until they’d met their little one. Delilah knew the name she wanted, but Tom had waited a long time for this moment, and it was his fortieth birthday.

  Tom cradled her tiny head in his big hand and smiled. “Hello, Molly.”

  “ ‘Star of the sea.’ Perfect.” And she was. Delilah had so wanted to name her daughter after her mother, and Tom had granted her wish.