“We got scholarships,” Emma said. “Irv stopped by the school and told the class who’d won scholarships. It was me and Darcy and Luke.”
“Scholarships?” Zach met Beth Ann’s eyes over the top of his daughter’s head. Every year the volunteer firemen gave scholarships to various camps and the graduating seniors for college.
“Yes. This year Emma and Darcy got the scholarships. You didn’t know?”
No, he didn’t know, and he was a fireman. When had the guys decided that his family would receive the charity this year?
“Isn’t it great, Dad?” Emma said, doing a happy twirl that came close to slopping the milk out of her glass.
“Well,” Zach started before he caught Beth Ann’s eye again where he read “leave it for now.” Fine. He’d leave it, but he was going to pay for this camp. “I don’t know what Lizzie and I are going to do without you guys around for a week.”
“You’ll manage,” Emma said. “I can’t believe I get to go this year!” She skipped out of the kitchen, happy as can be, leaving Zach and Beth Ann and a whole lot of tension in the air.
“I didn’t know the girls put in for scholarships.”
“Everyone in the 4-H club puts in for a scholarship,” Beth Ann said.
“There are kids who need the money more than Emma and Darcy.”
“Can you really afford to have both of them go this year?”
He could barely afford having Darcy go alone last year. The camp, which was near Boise and associated with the university there, ended up costing almost nine hundred dollars per kid for travel, a week’s worth of food and the instructors, who were always top-notch.
“I can figure something out.”
“Damn it, Zach. What’s more important here? Your pride or both girls getting to go to camp?”
“There’s got to be a way other than charity.”
“Scholarships are not charity. They’re awarded to deserving kids, regardless of need.”
“Bull. I’ve been in on enough selection meetings that I know exactly how they’re awarded.” Because pretty much every kid in the local 4-H club was deserving. Need was the number one factor used when the firemen selected their scholarship recipients.
Darcy came in through the back door just then, smiling widely. “You have a new bull calf, but the mama isn’t going to let anyone near it. Did Emma tell you about horse camp?”
“Yes, she did.”
“Isn’t it great?” Darcy asked as she pulled her backpack out from under Lizzie’s pink one. “Now I can use the hundred dollars I saved for something else!”
“Yeah,” Zach said, forcing a smile that he hoped looked halfway genuine. “It’s good to have a windfall like that. Where’s your little sister?”
“Lizzie thought she heard something in the barn.”
“Like...what?”
“Like her imagination,” Darcy said. “I couldn’t hear anything, but you know how she loves to find baby barn cats. She’ll be in pretty soon.” She hefted her backpack and headed out of the kitchen toward the living room.
“I know you hate this, Zach, but you’re thinking about this the wrong way,” Beth Ann said once Darcy was hopefully out of hearing range.
Zach chose not to answer, because no matter how he thought about it, it stung. Maybe it wouldn’t have stung so much if he could have afforded to send both girls and this was a happy surprise, but that wasn’t what it was. His fellow firemen were giving him charity in the one way he wouldn’t be able to say no.
“Now you can use that eighteen hundred dollars for something else,” Beth Ann pointed out, echoing Darcy.
“I guess,” Zach said. Hard to argue since that money would take a bite out of the medical bills. “Staying for dinner? We’re having another slow-cooker delight.”
“No. I think I’ll head home and hit the books.” She touched his upper arm, patting lightly. Zach met her eyes. Smiled a little.
“See you later,” he said.
* * *
TESS STAYED AWAKE until daybreak. She’d read and drawn and even conducted a late-night job search. She went over and over her conversation with Detective Hiller, told herself that he was right, but as soon as it was dark outside she found herself with all the lights on, listening for anything out of the ordinary. There was no storm that night, which may have been why she could hear so much more than she had the previous few nights. Rattling windows, creaking boards. The noises of an old house, but enough to keep her on edge.
This is normal. You’ve been assaulted. Of course you’re on edge.
Why was it so damned hard to put this all into perspective? It’d been three months since she’d been slashed and she’d expected once she got out of California and deep into the wilds of Nevada that the fear would fade faster than it was.
Maybe that was part of her problem. The fear wasn’t going to simply fade away after a trauma. She had to work at overcoming it and thus far all she’d been doing was reacting to it.
Finally, after the sun came up, she let the dogs out, then crawled back into bed, meaning only to close her eyes for ten or fifteen minutes before she let the dogs back in. She woke up with a start, realizing the dogs were still outside and that somehow she’d fallen asleep.
She grabbed the clock which was facing the wall and turned it around. One-thirty?
She’d slept for eight hours straight. A record. She didn’t know whether to be happy or disturbed. She’d been unconscious, oblivious to danger for eight long hours.
But nothing had happened.
Pushing the rumpled hair back from her face, she walked into the bathroom, grimaced when she saw the crease marks on her face from sleeping so hard.
Tess pushed aside the bathroom window curtains to see the dogs sleeping in the shade under the big elm tree in the backyard, the sunlight that filtered through the branches dappling their coats as they snoozed. They looked so peaceful. Everything seemed so...dare she say it, think it? Everything seemed so normal.
And then the phone rang, scaring the bejeezus out of her.
She scooped it up on the second ring, answered it after taking a deep breath so that her voice sounded normal.
“Ms. O’Neil? We have a cancellation this afternoon at four. Could you bring your dog in then?”
Could she? Tess pushed her hair back, leaving her hand on top of her head as she calculated. Almost two. She could be ready by two-thirty. An hour’s drive to Wesley...
“Ms. O’Neil?”
“Uh, yes. I can make it.”
“Great. We’ll see you and Mac at four.”
Half an hour later, she loaded the dogs into the backseat of her car. It was the first time she’d left Barlow Ridge since arriving. The first time she’d ventured out into the world at large to risk being recognized.
But somehow getting sleep, real sleep, not her usual pattern of sleeping for half an hour and then waking, made her feel better. Stronger. Able to tackle this mission.
Or maybe the logic of Detective Hiller’s assessment had finally sunk in to the point that she could work on believing it. She didn’t care which it was as long as she could start easing herself back into a more normal existence—or as normal as it could be living in the middle of nowhere under a false name.
The