Three whole days, and now with a stranger in her house.
Evenings were long here in the summer, the sun not even hitting the horizon until after nine. But as it sank lower in the west, the dry air failed to hold the heat, and the early evening was starting to cool down by the time she emerged from the market with her two cotton bags of groceries. She drove back to the department store, and found Wade already outside on the curb. Apparently he’d bought more than one or two items, to judge by the number of bags, and she was glad she hadn’t let him walk. She suspected that if she had, he’d have made several trips because of bulky pillows and blankets as well as sheets and towels.
And he probably wouldn’t have said a thing about it. Gage had been seriously guilty of understatement when he said the guy didn’t talk much.
She waited while he put his purchases in the back next to her groceries, then he climbed up front beside her.
“Thanks,” he said again.
“You’re welcome.”
And not another sound from him. It was almost as if he were trying to be invisible in every way. Out of sight, out of hearing, out of mind.
If he’d been one of her students, she would have concluded that silence came from secrets, terrible secrets, because nothing about him indicated shyness. But he wasn’t a student, he was a grown man, and maybe the same metrics didn’t apply.
They reached the house and she pulled into the short driveway and parked. She never used the garage because it provided hiding places over which she had little control.
As soon as she put the car in Park, Wade climbed out. “I’ll get your groceries, too,” he said.
Part of her wanted to argue that she could manage, but she recognized it for what it was: a desire to exert some control, any control, over her life again. The man offered a simple courtesy, and maybe it was his way of expressing his gratitude for the ride. She knew better than to prevent people from offering such little acts of kindness, especially when they had just received one.
Ah, hell, she thought. She didn’t ordinarily swear, but this day was beginning to make her want to. Needing to take someone into her sanctuary to pay the bills was bad enough. But finding that the teacher in her still existed, lived and breathed even though it was now forbidden to her, actually hurt.
She felt surprised that it still hurt. After the last year she had thought she was incapable of feeling any lack except the lack of her husband. God, she missed Jim with an ache that would probably never quit.
Head down, she climbed the front porch steps, going through her key ring for the house key. She had keys from the store, keys for the car, a key for the garage...so many keys for such a narrow life.
Just as she twisted the key, she heard the phone ring. It was probably work, she thought, needing her to come in to cover for someone who was sick. Eager for those hours, she left the door open behind her for Wade, punched in the alarm code as fast as she could, and ran for the cordless set in the living room.
She picked it up, punched the talk button and said, “Hello?” Let it be more than a couple of hours. Make it a couple of days. God, she needed the hours.
A muffled voice said, “I know where you are.” Then nothing but a dial tone.
The phone dropped from her hands and her knees gave way.
They’d found her.
“What’s wrong?”
She looked up from the floor, at the huge man who had entered her life barely two hours ago. He stood in the doorway, his arms full of bags. She tried to breathe, but panic had locked her throat. Speech was impossible, and she couldn’t answer that question anyway. Not to a stranger.
Finally she managed to gasp in some air. The instant she recovered her breath, even that little bit, tears started to run. And then she wanted to run. To get in her car and drive as far as she could on what little money she had left, which wouldn’t be far at all in that damn Suburban.
And then she realized that if they’d found her, even stepping out her front door could cost her her life.
“Ma’am?”
The giant dropped the bags, and crossed the short distance between them. He squatted beside her. “Put your head down. All the way down.”
Somehow, with hands that seemed too gentle for someone she had already identified as threatening, he eased her down onto the floor, then lifted her legs onto the couch. Treating her for shock, she realized dimly as the wings of panic hammered at her.
“What happened?” he asked again.
The adrenaline had her panting. Who should she call? The Marshals? She knew what they’d do, and God help her, she didn’t want to do that again.
“The sheriff. I need to talk to Gage.”
At least he didn’t question her again. Instead he reached for the phone she had dropped and pressed it into her hand.
“Need me to leave?” he asked. “I’ll just go unload the car...”
He shouldn’t hear this, but around his dark eyes she saw something like genuine concern. Something that said he’d do whatever was best for her, regardless of what it might be.
Her throat tightened. So few people in her life who would care if she lived or died anymore. Even the Marshals would probably just consider her a statistic on their chart of successes and failures.
“I...” She hesitated, knowing she wasn’t supposed to share her true situation with anyone. Not anyone. But what did she have to say that he couldn’t hear? She didn’t have to mention anything about the witness protection program or her real identity because Gage already knew.
“It’s okay,” he said. “Just don’t get up yet. I’ll get the rest of the stuff from the car.”
Amazing. He rose and went back to unloading as if she hadn’t just done the weirdest thing in the world: collapse and then demand to call the sheriff.
Amazing.
But she realized she didn’t want her car left unattended and unlocked with bags in it. Bags in which someone could put something. And she didn’t want her front door open indefinitely, or the alarm off. Her life had become consumed by such concerns.
Muttering a nasty word she almost never used, she brought up Gage’s private cell phone on her auto dialer. He answered immediately.
“Cory Farland,” she said, aware that her voice trembled.
“Cory? Did something happen?”
“Gage I...I got a phone call. All the guy said was, ‘I know where you are.’”
Gage swore softly. “Okay,” he said. “Okay. Most likely it was just a prank. You know how kids are when they have time on their hands. Stupid phone calls are the least of it.”
“I know, but...”
“I know,” he said. “Trust me, I know. I’m not going to ignore it, okay? Stay inside. Don’t go out at all, and keep that alarm on. Do you have caller ID?”
“No, I can’t afford it.”
Another oath, muffled. “I’m going to remedy that as soon as possible. But Cory, try not to get too wound up. It’s probably a prank.”
Yeah. She knew kids. Probably a prank, like Prince Albert in the can. Yeah. A prank. “Okay.”
Gage