“Colorado seems like a good place to be a kid. Mountains. Lots of sunshine.” She glanced at the sky. “Usually, right?”
“More than three hundred days of sunshine a year,” he said. “Just not today. Do you want anything to eat before we take off?” he asked.
She again looked at the sky. “Hannah and I had something earlier,” she said, sounding nervous. “But if you need to eat...”
“I’m fine,” he said. “This time, you lead and I’ll follow you.”
“Sort of like before,” she said wryly. “Except I didn’t know you were there.”
He liked that she was a little scrappy. “Right. Easier now that I don’t have to stay so far behind you.” He closed his door and rolled his window down a couple inches.
She walked to the Mustang, buckled Hannah into her car seat, then got behind the wheel.
“Do you have a phone in case I need to call you?” he asked before she pulled her door shut.
“Just blink your lights and honk your horn. I’ll pull over.”
If she had a phone, she wasn’t copping to it. And her method wasn’t ideal on mountain roads where the shoulder was oftentimes narrow, but it was unlikely that he was going to have to contact her. “Okay. I’ll see you at the cabin.”
* * *
I’ll see you at the cabin. She was headed back.
It would be a safe place for Hannah. Out of the storm, out of the public eye.
But was it as safe for her? She doubted that. Rico had already beat her at the game once by seeing her reverse her direction and then deciding to follow her. However, him catching up to her and letting her know that the cop wasn’t interested in her car had been a godsend. Otherwise, who knows how long she’d have wandered the streets with Hannah, afraid to go back for her car.
She knew she’d been frightened before. After all, one couldn’t get to the ripe old age of thirty-three and not have had the pants scared off of them at some point. But rounding that corner and seeing that cop looking into her car had been terrifying. Then minutes later, seeing Rico casually leaning next to his car, her only thought had been to run.
She’d cut through yards and alleys, but he’d trumped her again.
She’d wanted to tell him to go to hell but when she’d seen the cop car coming toward them, she’d had to take the chance. Had intended to get in his vehicle, apologize and be done with him. But then he’d offered her refuge at the cabin. I help people. That’s what he’d said.
And how had she repaid that kindness? By continuing to lie to him. By twisting the real life story of one of her patients about being wanted for narcotics theft and telling him that Hannah’s parents were in Asia.
Both whoppers.
But he’d seemed to accept the explanation. Hadn’t even asked too many clarifying questions. And now, as she negotiated the mountain curves, she had plenty of time to stew on that. Was he not naturally curious, or did he easily just accept things at face value? Or was he playing her in some way?
Hannah had fallen asleep again about ten minutes into the drive. She’d wanted to hold on to her new snow pants and after showing Ja-Ja, she now had them wadded up in a makeshift pillow.
Laura felt pretty damn stupid for not having paid more attention to the weather. It was no excuse that in Tennessee, they never really had to worry about big snowstorms. She wasn’t in Tennessee anymore.
Wouldn’t likely be back for a long time. Maybe never. That was sad but not her biggest loss.
She felt the deep ache in her chest that had been there since she’d made her decision, since she’d scooped up Hannah and they’d ran. She was never going to be able to practice as a physical therapist again. To do that, she’d have to use her real name, her real license, and even if she was halfway across the country, the risk was too great.
It had taken her so many years to earn her degree, to find just the right job. And now that was over. She’d thought she was leaving it temporarily when she’d gotten the job at the daycare. Had never dreamed it would end this way.
But maybe, just maybe, even if she couldn’t use her license, she could still provide some private care, maybe for someone who’d been in an accident or had a stroke. For someone who might be more concerned about her ability to help them versus her credentials.
She would work it out. She had to.
She would find a place for them to live, a place where Hannah could go to school, and a place where she could earn a living to support the two of them.
There was no other choice.
It started to snow when she was still twenty minutes from the cabin. Big fluffy flakes. She almost called out to Hannah, to wake up and see the snow. But then realized that the little girl would have plenty of opportunity if Rico was right. It was going to snow for hours, maybe even a full day.
She couldn’t, quite frankly, imagine.
By the time she pulled into the driveway of the cabin, the ground was already covered. She was grateful that they had made the drive in the daylight. A couple times, her back end had slipped just a little on the roads and if that had happened at night, it would have scared her to death.
“Hey, sweetheart,” she said. “Time to wake up.”
The little girl stretched in her seat, opened her eyes. And a big smile lit her face. “Laura, look at the snow,” she said. “Can I play in it?”
“Of course,” Laura said. Behind her, Rico was turning into the lane. He’d kept a safe distance behind her, not hurrying her but not allowing cars between them. She was confident that his SUV had handled better than the Mustang.
He beeped his horn at her and she looked in her rearview mirror. He motioned for her to pull into the detached garage that sat fifty yards away from the house. The big overhead door was already going up. She pulled in and he pulled in next to her.
“Hannah, I’m going to carry you inside so your shoes don’t get wet. Once we get your new snow stuff on, including your boots, you can go outside and play.” She’d learned a great deal about small children in the nine weeks that she’d been working at the daycare. After a nap and usually a small snack, they were raring to go again, and if you didn’t give them something to do, it didn’t usually go well. There’d be pushing and shoving and a few tears. Here, because there weren’t any other kids, there’d probably just be a meltdown.
And Rico might decide that he’d made one big mistake in offering up his home to them.
Speaking of Rico, he was waiting outside the garage, leaning on his crutches, watching her. He had snowflakes in his dark hair and with his mirrored sunglasses, jeans and boots, he looked rugged and very male. But she needed to stop ogling and start doing the heavy lifting.
“I’ll get the sacks,” she said. “That was our deal, that I’d do the things that you shouldn’t be doing. And be careful with your crutches in this snow. If you fall, it won’t be good.”
He opened his mouth, then shut it. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll just wait for Lucky.” The dog was already out, draining his bladder on the roots of a tree in the middle of the yard.
“Let me put Hannah inside first,” she said. “Then I’ll be back for the sacks.”
They all got inside. Laura put Hannah on the couch. “I’m going outside to get the rest of the groceries. Just stay here, right here, where I can see you through the window. When I get back, we’ll put away the groceries and then get you dressed to play outside.”
“I’ll watch her,” Rico said.
She