The Missing

Taige over the past twelve years, Jillian Morgan never smiled in them. Not even once. Of course, Jillian hadn’t had many reasons to smile during those visions. In truth, no reason.

    There was no logic to life, Taige knew. There was no logical way Taige could have dreamed about this girl before she even existed. No way she could have spent so many years searching for a girl who hadn’t needed Taige until less than a month ago. Logic had no place in this mess because, as improbable as it all was, it was real. It had all happened.

    Cullen glanced at Taige, and she forced a smile. “Go on. I’m fine.” God knows, he’d spent so much time at Taige’s side over the past few weeks, and that pretty little girl must have missed him something awful. He climbed out of the car and caught up with Jillian just as she reached the driveway. Taige watched as Cullen threw Jillian up into the air and then caught her close in a hug. Tears misted her eyes as she saw the two of them together.

    Jillian smiled down at her dad and brought her hands up, cupping his face between them and then leaning down to kiss him. There were no words between them, but there was a love so deep, so strong that Taige guessed the father and daughter really didn’t need words.

    Then Jilly turned her head and looked into the truck. Her eyes landed on Taige’s face, and her smile faded away.

    A fist wrapped around Taige’s heart. The poor baby. She’d gone through ten different kinds of hell, and seeing Taige was going to remind her of that. This wasn’t going to work. Yeah, she needed somebody with her for a few days because she wasn’t sure she could walk from a bed to a toilet without help, but she’d call Dez. Dez would come and probably be grateful for a break.

    Jillian squirmed in Cullen’s arms, and he put the girl down. Taige figured Jillian wanted to go inside, get away from her and all the memories that Taige’s presence had to bring back. But instead, she walked up and climbed through Cullen’s open door, onto the leather seat, until she could crouch on the console like a little cat. “You still look sick,” Jillian said with the brutal, frank honesty of a child.

    Forcing herself to smile, Taige said, “I’ll be fine.” An awkward silence started to spread between them, and desperate to keep that from happening, Taige asked softly, “How are you doing?”

    Jillian grinned. “I’m great. We got a beach. A real beach. And it’s ours .” She cocked her head, and the fat, inky curls fell over one thin shoulder. “You like the beach?”

    “I love the beach. I live on the beach, too.” Her gaze slid to the huge, sprawling house, and she added wryly, “But I doubt it’s as big as your beach is.”

    “Can you swim?”

    “Like a fish.”

    “Can you teach me?”

    Taige glanced at Cullen as he approached, staring at Jillian and Taige with intense eyes. Her heart pounded in her throat as she forced the words out. “We’ll have to see.” She was a little floored that Jillian even wanted to speak with her.

    That thought had barely formed in her head when Jillian leaned a little closer and whispered, “Of course I wanna talk to you. You’re my friend.” She smiled sweetly and reached up, laid a hand on Taige’s face. “I’d miss not talking to you.”

    Now Taige couldn’t speak. She couldn’t force the words, and it took several tries and a couple of deep breaths before she managed it. “You remember talking to me?”

    Jillian rolled her eyes, and for a minute she looked exactly like what she should be: a child just hovering on the stage of prepubescence, convinced she knew every bit as much as any adult ever could. “Of course I remember talking to you.” Then she glanced back at her dad. “I think you’re going to have to make her get out of the car. She’s scared.”

    With that, she pulled back and took off running back up the driveway.

    Hardly able to speak around the knot in her throat, Taige murmured, “She shouldn’t have to see me, Cullen. It can’t be good for her.”

    He didn’t respond at first as he circled the truck and opened the door for her. He slid a hand under her legs, helping her shift her lower body around, and then he cupped his hands on her hips. But instead of helping her slide to the ground, he stood there, holding her just like that as he said, “You’re wrong.” He glanced at the house and murmured, “Jillian’s a serious kid. She always has been. She almost