He didn’t want to put his brother in the untenable position of having to choose between doing his job or supporting Dalton’s decision to break the law by hiding Janette.
He’d talk to Zack, tell him who he thought was responsible for both the fire tonight and the gunfire, but he wouldn’t tell Zack where Janette was hidden away. He wouldn’t give her over to Zack, who might find himself with no alternative than to turn her over to Sinclair.
He cast a quick glance at the woman in the passenger seat. She bounced Sammy in her arms and asked no more questions about where they were going or what they were going to do.
She trusted him.
After two snowbound days together, she trusted that he was taking her someplace where she’d be safe. It shocked him, awed him, and if he were to admit the truth to himself, it scared him more than just a little bit. She was placing not only her life, but also the life of her little boy directly in his hands.
He clenched the steering wheel tightly. He hadn’t signed on for this, had simply offered a woman and her baby shelter from the storm. A tiny spark of anger filled him. He didn’t want this responsibility. Since the debacle with Mary he’d consciously backed away from being involved with anyone, even his family. He didn’t want anyone depending on him, needing him.
He didn’t want the responsibility, but now that he had it, he couldn’t turn his back. Janette had been trapped by the storm, and now he was trapped by her circumstances.
* * *
Janette thought she might be in a mild state of shock. She couldn’t process the fire, the gunshots and now a drive down narrow, slick roads with darkness all around.
She should be terrified, but she wasn’t. She was beyond terror and instead felt only a weary resignation, a stunning knowledge that she was no longer in control of her own life.
She glanced at Dalton. In the faint illumination from the dashboard his handsome features looked grim and more than a little bit dangerous. She could only imagine what was going through his mind right now.
Because of his kindness to a stranger, his home had been set on fire, he’d been shot at and he was now making a dash over the snow-slick roads to a safe place.
“I’m so sorry I got you involved in all this,” she said. “All I wanted to do was leave town.”
His knuckles turned white on the steering wheel as she felt the back end of the truck slide out. She caught her breath, then relaxed as he skillfully steered into the skid and straightened out the truck.
“I know,” he replied. “We’ll talk when we get where we’re going.”
That comment effectively staunched any other conversation she might have wanted to have. She cuddled Sammy closer against her and stared out the passenger window, where no lights from houses broke the darkness of the night.
He seemed to have a plan and she was grateful, because she had none. She couldn’t return to his apartment because it was obvious Sinclair knew she was there. She felt terrible that she’d now placed Dalton in a horrible position. If he didn’t turn her over to the sheriff, then he was breaking the law and could face even uglier repercussions of his own.
She’d like to be able to tell him just to drop her off somewhere, that she’d figure things out on her own. But that wasn’t an option either. She couldn’t go back to Sandstone and she couldn’t get out of Cotter Creek. She was in a horrible state of limbo, with Brandon Sinclair like a hound dog sniffing her scent.
She sat straighter in the seat as Dalton turned off the main road and through an iron gate. He doused his headlights as they approached a large ranch-style home.
“That’s my dad’s place,” he said as they drove past the sprawling one-story house. “It would be better if nobody knows you’re here on the property.”
That explained him dousing the truck lights. They entered a pasture area and he threw the gears into four-wheel drive as they hit the thicker snow where no plows had been.
They passed another house where lights shone from several windows. “That’s my brother Tanner and his wife’s place,” Dalton said.
Still they didn’t stop. Once they’d passed the second house Dalton turned the truck headlights back on. There were other tracks in the snow. In one area it looked as if several trucks or cars had made figure eights.
An area of thick woods was on their right, mostly evergreen trees, which she assumed provided windbreaks. Eventually Dalton turned through a small break in the trees and pulled to a halt in front of a small cabin. Trees completely surrounded it, tall evergreens that made it impossible to see the place unless you were right on top of it.
“Who lives here?” she asked, nerves jumping in her stomach.
“For now, you do,” he said as he shut off the engine. “At one time or another, I think all of my brothers have lived here for short periods, but for the last couple of months it’s been empty. You should be safe here.”
She should have been safe on the road between her home and the community college. She should have been safe in Dalton’s apartment. She couldn’t afford to take her safety for granted anymore.
“Come on, let’s get you inside and settled,” he said as he opened his truck door.
Janette got out of the truck and stared at the cabin. There was nothing welcoming about it. Illuminated only by the faint cast of the moon filtering through the trees, it looked dark and cold and forbidding.
She tightened her grip on Sammy as she followed Dalton up the stairs to the front door. He used a key to unlock it, then pushed it open, flipped on a switch that lit a small table lamp and ushered her inside.
The sense of welcome that had been absent from the exterior was present inside. Plump throw pillows covered a dark-green sofa, and a rocking chair sat next to the fireplace. The wood floor gleamed with richness except where it was covered by braided rugs.
“It’s nothing fancy,” Dalton said as he wheeled the dial of the thermostat on the wall. “There’s a bedroom and bath and a small kitchen.” He turned to face her. “We’re deep enough in the woods that no one should see the lights, but I won’t light a fire. I don’t want smoke from the chimney to draw any curious people.”
He motioned her to follow him into the small kitchen, where he opened cabinets to show her a stockpile of canned goods. “There’s enough here to hold you for a night or two.”
“You’re not staying?” She tried to keep the fear out of her voice but didn’t quite succeed.
“I’ve got to get back to town and check on George and talk to my brother.”
“What are you going to tell him?” She studied his features, wondering if he’d decide to give her up, that this was all trouble he hadn’t bargained to take on and he was finished with her and her mess.
He swiped a hand through his thick dark hair and leaned against the wall, his expression unreadable. “I don’t know for sure. I’m still sorting out things in my head. But I promise you I won’t tell him you’re here.”
He shoved off from the wall. “Things are pretty dusty in here, but there’s fresh bedding in one of the dresser drawers in the bedroom, and it won’t take long for the furnace to warm things up.”
“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” she replied, although she wasn’t sure of anything. She wanted to tell him not to leave her, that she needed him to hold her, to wrap her in his strong arms and make her feel safe.
She