Chapter Twelve

Elise bolted upright in her bed, straining to hear what the sound was that had disturbed her sleep.

She was normally quite a heavy sleeper, so it had to be something—

She broke off her train of half-asleep thought as she heard the sound again… almost a distant whimpering, or crying.

And… laughter?

Was a television left on somewhere? Was someone still awake in the hosue?

Silently, she slid from her bed and tugged a thin bathrobe over her typical bedtime attire – a worn man’s shirt that hung to her knees and past her wrists, making her feel encased, safe. She quietly opened and then closed her bedroom door, scuttling down the hall to Betsy’s room to check on her. Perhaps she had heard her cry out from a dream – best to check on her and make sure the little girl was asleep.

When she opened the door to Betsy’s room, a flood of moonlight shone in on the sweet little room – illuminating the fact that Betsy’s bed was completely empty, through rumpled.

Elise hastily checked the adjacent bathroom, and then sprinted downstairs, circling the entire first floor in pursuit of her charge. Betsy wasn’t getting a midnight snack, she wasn’t on the computer, she wasn’t watching television…

So where was she?

She heard the noise again, an anguished cry, like that of an animal being hurt, and whirled around to face the lake, desperately peering out of the porch doors to see if she could see anything, as that was where the noise seemed to have come from. It took her eyes several seconds to adjust to the glare of the moonlight, but then she gasped in horror.

She could just make out a figure thrashing in the frigid waters of Lake Superior, a tiny figure, a Betsy sized figure splashing in the waves…

Without thinking, Elise opened her mouth and screamed. “Tucker! Tucker, help! Oh my god!”

She ran to the door and tugged on her “beach shoes”, a pair of cheap plastic shoes in a hot pink colour, then threw open the door and raced across the lawn, not even looking to see if Tucker had heard her or was coming to her aid.

She just knew she had to reach Betsy, had to keep her eyes on her, no matter what.

Before she reached the berm of the beach, however, Tucker was at her heels, a blur at her side, racing alongside her then leaping down the berm to the beach level.

The both charged in tandem directly into the lake where a completely waterlogged Betsy was barely keeping her head above water. Tucker and Elise each grabbed an arm and dragged the freezing cold child from the churning water. Betsy was so silent, Elise was afraid she might be in shock, but then Betsy began to cry and cry, even as her small body was wracked with shivers and tremors from the cold.

“Inside,” Tucker barked the order, picking up Betsy and holding her to him, carrying her sopping wet body against his bare chest. Elise dimly noted that he didn’t even have on shoes, just a pair of low slung dark sweatpants and nothing else. He must be freezing as well…

The wind whipped through Elise’s cotton shirt and bathrobe, making her shiver down to her bones, and she wasted no time trailing in Tucker’s wake back to the house. Tucker kicked open the door to the house and marched inside, Elise taking a moment to shut the door against the cold and kick off her worthless beach shoes.

Betsy was crying in earnest now, clinging to Tucker’s neck as though she would never let go. Gently, he laid her on the couch, but she protested at the separation from his warmth, so he sat down as well, curling her small, wet body against his, tucking her against him.

Despite the horror of the moment, Elise’s heart melted as she saw the tenderness with which Tucker handled his darling niece, a side of him he rarely showed anyone. She had heard him just earlier today on the telephone, growling at some business associate, making Elise wonder if he had a touch of Jekyll and Hide – the sweet, tender side he showed to Betsy, and this man eater side he had in business.

She wondered which was the real Tucker.

But right now he was like a wolf, protecting one of his pups, even as his eyes darted from side to side, trying to make sense of the situation.

Elise stood frozen in front of them – literally and figuratively – for several seconds before shaking herself to action. “I’ll get blankets and get some water boiling for tea. We’ve got to warm her up, quickly.”

“Should we go to the hospital?” Tucker asked, his voice tinged with panic.

“Betsy, poppet,” Elise asked gently, brushing Betsy’s damp hair from her forehead, “how long were you in the water? I know it was really cold, but do you remember how long…”

Betsy shook her head. “Not, not too long, just…” She shivered again and Tucker protectively cupped her head with his hand, pressing her to his chest. His eyes met Elise’s, and she could see the fear and confusion in his eyes. She gave him a small smile of consolation and confidence.

“Let’s see what we can do here first,” Elise said calmly. “A hot drink and a blanket to start. No sense taking her back outside and into a cold car if we don’t need to. If you can get a fire going…” she nodded to the nearby fireplace, then bustled down the hall to Tucker’s master suite, the only bedroom on the first floor, hoping to find a closet of blankets to raid.

She barely noted the enormous wood bed, the masculine furniture or the amazing view of Tucker’s bedroom (the one room she hadn’t yet entered), instead focusing on the log cabin quilt made of repeated shades of blues and greens on the bed, tugging it off and dragging it’s enormous weight back to the couch, wrapping Betsy and Tucker in its warmth with nary a protest from either one of them.

A few minutes later, she came from the kitchen with a steaming mug. “Betsy, how about a hot chocolate?”

The little girl had lost some of the deathly white pallor she had had when they had first dragged her from the freezing waters, and she even gave a small smile of thanks when she reached out for the mug. Elise noted the crackling of several logs in the fireplace, the heat beginning to lick out and warm the space, as well as providing a bit of light.

“I’ve got a kettle on, so we’ll have tea ready in a minute,” Elise said over Betsy’s head to Tucker. She shivered involuntarily, and Tucker noticed immediately.

“God, you’re freezing, Elise” he said, shifting and standing up from the couch, leaving Betsy tucked cozily in a corner, still sipping her hot drink. “Here, sit, I’ll do the tea.” He took her arm and tried to tug her to the waiting couch.

“I’m… I’m fine,” Elise said, feeling a sudden flare of heat from being in such close proximity to his bare chest, his bedhead and his scorching voice, gone quiet as people naturally do when the hour is late. “I’ll warm up with the tea, I’m sure.”

Tucker tried to keep his eyes trained on her face, but found them straying, noting her bare legs beneath a thread worn man’s dress shirt and a thin robe that was billowing open, the belt obviously having come undone in the confusion. She had kicked off her shoes somewhere, and her hair covered one eye in a beguiling fashion, even as she shook it out of the way.

Despite the near death experience of minutes before, desire flared in his belly as he watched her, her effortless, nay, unknown sexiness appealing to him.

Elise Blake was sexy, even in a crisis.

“Sit,” he said, his voice brooking no argument. “Stay. I’ll get the tea,” he ordered, and despite herself, she sat, bundling under the quilt with Betsy and pulling the little girl against his chest, taking the already empty mug from Betsy’s hands and setting it on the nearby table.

“My darling, are you alright?” Elise asked softly, stroking Betsy’s hair, feeling as close to maternal and overprotective as she could ever recall feeling.

“I’m okay,” Betsy said gratefully. “Thanks for rescuing me.”

“Anytime,” Elise murmured. “Do you remember what happened?”

Betsy seemed to turn inward then, almost unwilling to answer Elise. “I’m… I’m not sure.”

“Do you remember going outside?”

Betsy dragged her eyes from Elise’s, unwilling to meet her gaze. “I…”

“Here we go,” Tucker said, carefully bringing two mugs into the room and setting them down. “How are you, sweetheart?” he asked Betsy. “Are you ready to climb back into bed? Are you feeling warmer?”

Betsy nodded. “I’m warmer. And I’m tired,” she added, making Elise chuckle.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Tucker said, extending a hand to Betsy and pulling her up from the couch.

Elise made a move to stand. “I can do that, you don’t have to…”

Tucker motioned for her to stay put, then took Betsy’s small hand in his and walked her to the stairs, already murmuring a bedtime story to the girl. “There once was a princess…”

“Does every bedtime story start that way? Is there a rule somewhere?” Elise heard Betsy ask as they walked up the stairs, making her laugh.

At least it was still the same old Betsy, the lake not having robbed them of her delightfulness.

But it could have gone the other way so easily…

Elise sipped her tea, thankful that she had seen Betsy in the waves, and wondering how on earth the little girl had gone from tucked into bed to fighting for her life in Lake Superior. It’s a wonder she hadn’t drowned or frozen to death.

Elise shivered again involuntarily; grateful she had been jolted awake by a distance noise in the night.

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