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Couldn't she forgive Cage for keeping his secret all these months? She had been prepared to keep hers for the remainder of her life. If Cage hadn't made love to her that night, if Hal hadn't died, she would have married her fiancé. And no matter how unhappy it had made her, she would have stuck it out. Before her relationship with Cage, she wouldn't have had the courage to seek her own happiness, but would have continued letting others do it for her.
Cage had taught her to make her own future. Wasn't that alone reason enough to love him?
Tomorrow she would think about it some more. Maybe she would call Cage, apologize for her intolerance tonight, and together they would sort it all out
Wearily she stripped off her clothes, pulled on a nightgown, and slipped into bed. But she couldn't sleep. She had slept most of the day, and the world seemed to be against her getting the peaceful rest she needed. Sirens screamed through the streets of town, and just when she had rubbed Cage from her mind enough to fall asleep, her telephone jangled loudly.
* * *
Chapter 13
«^»
Thinking it might be Cage, she weighed the wisdom of answering. Was she ready to talk to him yet? The phone was on its sixth ring before she gave in and reached for the receiver.
"Hello?"
"Miss Fletcher?"
It wasn't Cage and she felt a momentary pang of disappointment. "Yes."
"Is this the Jenny Fletcher who used to live with Reverend Hendren?"
"Yes. Who is this, please?"
"Deputy Sheriff Rawlins," the caller identified himself. "You wouldn't happen to know where we can locate the Hendrens, would you?"
"Have you checked the church and the parsonage?"
"Sure have."
"Then I'm sorry, I don't know where they are. Can I help you?"
"We really need to find them," the deputy said, conveying urgency. "Their son's been in an accident."
Jenny went cold. Nausea churned in her stomach. Yellow sunbursts exploded against a field of black when she closed her eyes. By an act of will she fought off fainting. "Their son?" she asked in a high, reedy voice.
"Yeah, Cage."
"But he was just… I just saw him."
"It happened a few minutes ago."
"Is he … was it … fatal?"
"I don't know yet, Miss Fletcher. The ambulance is rushing him to the hospital now. It's bad, all right. A train hit his car." Jenny stifled her outcry with a bloodless hand. A train! "That's why we need to find his next of kin."
Lord, what an awful official expression. "Next of kin," the phrase reserved in police jargon for those who have to be notified when someone they love dies in an accident away from home.
"Miss Fletcher?"
Several moments of silence had ticked by while Jenny tried to absorb the tragic enormity of this telephone call. "I don't know where Bob and Sarah are. But I'll be at the hospital in a few minutes. Good-bye. I have to hurry."
She hung up the phone before giving the deputy a chance to say anything more. Her knees buckled beneath her when she lunged off the bed. She stumbled to the closet, where she pulled out the first garment her hands fell on.
She had to get to Cage. Now. Hurry. She had to tell him she loved him before—
No, no. He wouldn't die. She wouldn't even think of his dying.
