Reunion by Sharon Sala Page A

away. Trembling from the rush of adrenaline that had surged through his system, he dropped to his knees, rocking to and fro beneath the shelter of the trees, unmindful of the water dripping onto his face or the soggy ground beneath him.
    Minutes passed. Calm settled slowly as he sat back on his heels, grateful the agony was over.
    A familiar whine came out of the darkness, and he remembered the dog. He turned. When he saw the man on the ground, he fell backward in fright.
    It was a stranger! He wasn’t supposed to talk to strangers. He began grabbing for his roses and scrambling to his feet, desperate to get away. But to his relief, the stranger seemed to pose no threat.
    Curious now, he leaned forward, giving the stranger’s arm a tentative poke.
    “Help me?”
    The stranger didn’t move—didn’t speak.
    “Asleep,” he announced, satisfied with his assumption. Then, with the gentlest of touches, he patted the stranger’s head, just as he’d patted the dog only moments earlier.
    The dog was still there, lying motionless beside the stranger.
    “Come,” he said softly, but the dog scooted backward, just out of his reach.
    He sighed. The dog wanted to stay. He stood up, and when he did, the little dog whined again, only softer. As he looked back, once more staring intently at the stranger on the ground, an impulse struck him. Pulling one of the roses from his bouquet, he laid it on the stranger’s chest.
    “There now,” he said softly, and moved into the shadows as a steady drizzle began to fall.
     
    Something filtered into the quiet of Laura’s sleep. She awoke with a jerk. Momentarily confused by unfamiliar surroundings, it took her a few seconds to remember where she was. When she did, she groaned beneath her breath and shoved a shaky hand through her hair. Moments later, Gabriel’s face flashed through her mind.
    Without questioning her instincts, she knew something was wrong. She jumped from her bed, threw on her nightgown and ran to the door. The hallway was shadowed and quiet. A night-light burned at the head of the stairs, lighting the way up or down. She stood without moving, hearing nothing that would give cause for alarm, and staring into the shadows until her eyes began to burn.
    Just when she thought she’d imagined it all, she heard a sound at the far end of the hall. She stepped out into the hallway and tilted her head, listening.
    Someone was crying!
    But not huge gulping sobs, just a quiet despair. Her first thought was that it was Gabriel, but the longer she listened, the more convinced she became that it was a woman she heard. She walked a little farther down the hall. The sound prevailed, seeping into the pores of her skin and winding itself around her heart until it was part of her pulse.
    Staggered by the intensity of what she was experiencing, she stopped. She couldn’t put it into words, but there was something about the sound that made her stop in her tracks. It wasn’t so much the fact that someone was crying that bothered her. It was the fact that there was no one up here to be making that sound.
    She spun around and started back down the hall, increasing her speed until she was all but running as she reached the door to her room. She dashed inside, closing the door firmly behind her and then telling herself afterward that it was all a mistake. But the thought of going back to bed made her jumpy. Rubbing at the goose bumps on her arms, she moved toward the windows, instead.
    From the second story, the lawns below looked black. As she peered out into the darkness, she realized it was raining. The flagstone patio glistened beneath the security lights, and she could hear runoff from the roof moving through the downspout near her windows. She leaned forward, resting her forehead on the cool panes of glass and blinking, trying to relieve the dry, burning sensation in her eyes. Her mind ran free, sorting through all that she had learned of Gabriel Connor.
    He’d been more than polite.