The telephone rang just as they finished breakfast a little more than half an hour later. Emily smiled and stood. “I’ll get it. I’m sure it’s one of our cousins, wishing us Merry Christmas.”
But a moment later, wearing a curious expression, Emily lowered the kitchen extension phone and motioned for Lucas. “It’s for you. She, um, didn’t identify herself.”
Lucas knew who it was even before he heard her voice.
“Lucas? It’s Rachel. I’m sorry to interrupt you so early on Christmas morning, but I need to talk to you.”
He heard the strain in her voice and he knew immediately that something was very wrong. “What is it?”
“Can you meet me?”
“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “When?”
“Give me half an hour.”
He didn’t have to ask where she wanted to meet. “I’ll be there.”
LUCAS WAS WAITING inside the rock house when Rachel walked in. He’d spread a thick cotton quilt over the dirty floor, so they could sit comfortably on the cold stone. He was pouring steaming coffee from an insulated container into a mug as she walked in.
He placed the mug into her hands and pressed her downward, urging her to sit cross-legged on the quilt. “Sit down and drink this. Take your time.”
He was watching her as if he was afraid she would collapse at any moment. Either he’d heard something in her voice when she’d called, or she looked even worse than she’d thought after her nearly sleepless night.
Rachel took the coffee and sank to the quilt, feeling her knees weaken now that she was actually here with Lucas. The brew was hot and strong, and she sipped it slowly, letting the warmth spread through her.
Lucas sat in front of her, without looking away from her face. “Take all the time you need. There’s no other place I have to be.”
She tried to smile. “I’m really not going to collapse, Lucas.”
“Something has upset you.”
“Yes. But I’m fine. I just want to talk to you about it.”
“What is it? Did someone say something to disturb you?”
For just a moment, he was the young Lucas she remembered, fire in his eyes, willing to fight to defend her.
She laid a hand on his knee and shook her head. “No one said anything. It’s something I found last night in a box of my brother’s belongings.”
Lucas went still. “What did you find?”
She’d brought a macramé shoulder bag to free her hands so she could climb the gate. She opened it and pulled out the crumpled manila envelope. “This.”
Lucas accepted the envelope from her. “What is it?”
“Open it.”
She kept her gaze on his face as he tilted the envelope to retrieve the contents. His eyes narrowed when the filthy wallet fell into his hand. He opened it slowly.
“Where did you say you found this?” His voice was strained as he stared at Al Jennings’s driver’s license.
“It was with Roger’s things—in a box with the stuff from his desk. Mother packed everything without looking through it, so I doubt that she saw this.”
Lucas flipped carefully through the contents of the wallet—the license, credit cards, insurance cards, faded photographs of Roger and Rachel. There were several bills stuffed into the money pocket—two hundreds, a twenty and a ten.
“It’s covered in dirt,” Rachel commented, though she knew Lucas had noticed that for himself.
“Yes.”