He decided to try one more time without the touching, more willing to waste a few more minutes trying to wake her than he was willing to risk her getting ahold of him again. “Miss, you’re home now,” he told her, leaning in just a bit so that his voice carried through the narrow opening of the window.
Like home was a magic word, she stirred, the movement pushing back the hem of her jacket, exposing the Kimber .45 riding her hip. He’d caught sight of it when she’d first climbed into the bed of his truck. Factoring in the olive drab cargos and plain black shirt along with the heavy-soled hiking boots and mannish haircut, he figured her for another Montana Militia wannabe.
That’d changed back in Moyie Springs.
He sat back in his seat, making sure his hands were in plain view, watching her from the relative safety of the rearview. Reaching into the long pocket of her cargos, she produce a wad of cash as fat as his fist. He watched her peel off the promised five plus a few more—nearly double what she’d promised him. Reaching through the window, she tapped him on the shoulder with the offered bills.
He turned slightly, reaching over his shoulder to take the offered cash, a nervous grin on his face. “I thank you kindly—” he gave the stack of bills that connected them a tug but she didn’t let go, forcing him to meet her gaze.
“Did you give me a ride?” she said quietly, snagging him with a pair of hazel eyes that didn’t seem to belong in the face that carried them.
He thought about the gun strapped to her hip and the fact that he believed with one-hundred percent certainty she knew how to use it. “No ma’am. Picked up a drifter just over the border but I dropped him at the Nugget so he could catch on with one the logging camps ‘round here. Don’t believe he mentioned which one.”
She finally gave him a smile, just a ghost of one really—gone in an instant as it coasted across her face. She abruptly released the money into his hand, the jerk of it sending a twinge spiraling up his wrist.
“Drive safe,” she said, shouldering her backpack before swinging a leg over the side of his truck to climb out. He listened to the sound of her boots crunching in the soft gravel of the shoulder, watching as she walked away.
Disappearing into the trees, like she’d never been.
91
Kootenai Canyon, Montana
She’d been gone for forty-two days and they’d settled into a comfortable rhythm without her. He made breakfast every morning before Miss Ettie took the kids upstairs. It was fall and much to their disappointment, that meant homeschool was back in session.
Lunch was usually spent in the field, mending fences or driving their small herd of cattle into the lower pastures for the coming winter. Dunn was a fast learner and even more importantly, game. He seemed as determined to stave off the boredom of isolation as he was.
Dinner was a quiet affair, the evening usually ending with him and Dunn doing dishes before he headed out to the barn to listen to the HAM radio spit static until he was ready to burn the whole place the ground. He wasn’t sure when he’d come to the conclusion that she wasn’t coming back. He only knew that it hurt. He imagined that Phillip Song had made good on his threat to offer her a way home and she’d taken it. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to take the ring she’d put on his finger off. He was pretty sure that would hurt worse than her actual leaving.
“Give me two,” Dunn said, peeling a pair of cards from his hand before tossing them onto the tiny table between them. Michael dealt him the cards and watched while he tucked them into his hand, eyes narrowed, mouth quirked just a bit at the corner. They’d played enough cards for him to know it meant Dunn didn’t have shit.
“We gonna ride out to 5J tomorrow, round up the last couple head?” Dunn said while rearranging his cards. Another indicator his hand was busted.
Surprisingly, he and Dunn hadn’t killed each other yet. All things considered, he figured that was a good thing. Neither one of them broached the subject of how Dunn had managed to remove his chip since the day he turned up in his kitchen. He didn’t seem like in a great hurry to share, beyond making sure he knew there would be a price to be paid for the how-to. For his part, Michael wasn’t in any hurry to know how he did it.
Without Sabrina, it didn’t really matter.
“Yeah,” he said, waiting for his opponent to fold. “We’ve got a couple of first-year heifers out there. I don’t want them—”
Across from him, Dunn went stiff a split second before Avasa picked up her head, a quiet growl rumbling in her chest. “Company,” Dunn said, gaze aimed over his shoulder, cards spilled, face up, across the table.
Michael turned to see a figure standing on the bridge, watching them. It was dusk, the sun just beginning to slip behind the surrounding cliffs. All he caught in the gathering dark were a pair of cargos. Ball cap pulled low over. Gun bulge under the jacket.
“Friend of yours?” Dunn said behind him, tone casual and calm.
“No,” he said, even though his heart stopped and stuttered in his chest. “Go get—”
The dog shot off the porch like a bullet. Head low, legs moving so fast they became a blur, streaking across the yellowing grass. She let out a bark and the figure dropped the backpack in response a moment before it hunkered down to receive the dog with open arms.
They went down together, Avasa’s front paws planted firmly, pinning their visitor to the bridge beneath them, her tail whipping so hard and fast her back end swung with it, nearly knocking her over with every pass.
“Well, the dog seems to be friendly with whoever it is,” Dunn said behind him, the words delivered over the soft scraping of his chair along the floorboards of the porch. A few second later, Michael heard the screen door bang shut behind him.
As soon as Dunn was alone, he moved. Down the porch steps and across the lawn, gaining speed with each step until he was running. Stopping short, Michael stood at the lip of the bridge, hands dug into the front pockets of his jeans, watching Avasa greet her mistress.
The commotion with the dog knocked her hat off her head to reveal a dyed head of hair, almost as short as his. She was thin again, making him wonder where’d she’d been. What happened to her. He wanted to ask but he didn’t. There was plenty of time for that, now that she was home.
Seeing his boots, Sabrina nudged Avasa to the side, whispering a short command that held the dog, quivering but still. She ran a hand over her flank, still whispering, the dull glint of her wedding band catching the dying sun with each pass. He stepped closer, until he was standing over the pair of them.
“You hungry?” His voice sounded rough, like his throat was lined in sandpaper and he cleared it. “Miss Ettie made a chicken gumbo and I think there’s a few—”
“I just dragged myself to hell and gone...” Sabrina stood slowly, eyes narrowed. “and all you have to offer me is leftover gumbo.”
“It’s good gumbo.”
“I’m sure it is,” she said. “But I don’t want it.”
“What do you want, Sabrina?” The words sounded heavier. What he was asking her had nothing to do with food.
“I want pancakes.”
“Pancakes, huh?” He pulled a hand free, stooping to fetch her hat. She caught his smile as he bent and it bolstered her. Gave her hope.
“Yup.” She nodded, taking the hat he offered her and tossing it over her shoulder. “And I want them every day, for the rest of your life.”
“Every day—for the rest of my life” He reached for her, pulling her into his arms, still grinning like an idiot. “I think I can help you with that.”
“Promise?” she said, slipping a hand along the back of his neck, pulling him closer.
“Promise,” Michael whispered, right before he kissed her.
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WAITING IN DARKNESS, A PREQUEL
Mine...
The riveting prequel to CARVED IN DARKNESS, the first novel in the Sabrina Vaughn series.
As the bastard daughter of the town whore and the local police chief, 16-year-old Melissa Walker has few bright spots in her life. Her brother and sister. Her grandmother. Her boyfriend. To her, nothing else matters. She can't let anything else matter―but in the space of a heartbeat, Melissa's carefully balanced life spins out of control, plunging her into a nightmare only she can see.
Leave him, or I’ll finish what I started...
On the run, Melissa finally manages to settle into a life of quiet anonymity and, with the help of a new friend―the first she's ever had―she begins to put her life back together.
She's forgotten who she is. Who she belongs to...
But he's out there waiting for her... in darkness.
Click here to order Waiting in Darkness
Turn the page to read a sample —>
WAITING IN DARKNESS: Chapter 1
Jessup, Texas
April ~ 1998
“Melissa Jean, I swear that kid’s gonna a stare a hole right through your ass,” Terry muttered under her breath as she took a blueberry pie from the glass display case on the lunch counter. “I don’t know how you stand it.” She cut a generous wedge to place on a plate for the trucker at table six.
Throwing a cautious glance over her shoulder, Melissa’s eyes flitted over Jed Carson. He was staring at her again. Hiding her discomfort behind a polite smile, she forced herself not to look away when his gaze traveled upward to meet her own.
He didn’t smile back.
Turning, she focused her attention on the task of filling the huge commercial-sized coffee maker with water. “As long as he stays on his side of the counter and pays his bill before he leaves, he can stare all he wants,” she said. Truth was, she wished he’d leave. Not just the diner. She wished he’d leave Jessup for good and never come back.
“He ain’t going anywhere.” Terri shot another glare his way. “How many times have you re-filled his coffee cup, girl?”
Ten. She’d counted. Every time she did he used the opportunity to try and talk to her. Ask her about her grandmother. Her mom. Her brother and sister. Like he cared about any of them at all. Like he cared about her. He didn’t care about her. He wanted to sleep with her. Even at sixteen, she knew the difference. “I don’t know,” she said. “One time or fifty, doesn’t matter.”
“Which makes him no different from the rest of the losers around here,” Tommy said from the service window, a plate in his hand. “Your boyfriend’s order is up,” he said, nudging it toward her with that asshole smirk of his that made her want to slap the eyeballs right out of his head.
“He’s not my boyfriend.” She hissed back, shooting him a glare.
“Does he know that?” Tommy countered dryly, turning toward the flat grill to work over a couple of eggs and a slab of bacon for the trucker at table six.
She snatched the plate off the counter. “I hate you sometimes.”
“Good,” he shot back without looking at her. His tone was hard, like he meant it and she immediately wanted to apologize. Instead, she turned and walked down the length of the counter to where Jed’d parked himself and delivered his food.
“You think I could get a little…” Jed’s words died out as she set the double bacon and cheese with a side of fries in front of him and without a word, pulled a bottle of steak sauce from her apron pocket and set it down in front of his plate. “Well, look at me, forgettin’ I got the best damn waitress in Texas,” he said, smiling at her. She was sure that any other girl in town would’ve fainted dead away if Jed had looked at them the way he looked at her. With his sandy blonde hair and soft hazel eyes, he was easily the best looking boy in Jessup. He was captain of the varsity football team, Homecoming king and senior class president. All of this and for some reason he wanted her—and she wasn’t the slightest bit interested.
“A re-fill on the coffee’d be most appreciated, Melissa Jean,” Jed said, leaning toward her just a bit. He did it every time she poured and it’d taken her a while to figure out why. He was smelling her. She could hear his deep intake of breath near her ear when she bent her head to fill his cup.
Plastering that vague, polite smile on her face, she pretended not to notice. She also pretended not to notice the flask he slipped out of the pocket of his letterman’s jacket or that he added a healthy dose of whiskey to the brew. He had been drinking for the past hour, steadily moving toward drunk with every refill.
“You get off in an hour. Wanna do something?” Jed said, watching her over the rim of his cup. The burger and fries would go untouched. Just another excuse to talk to her.
“I can’t. Gotta get home.” Her answer was always the same. She never said yes to him but he seemed hurt and confused by her rejection every time.
“Why do you always say no to me, Melissa? What? I got an ear growin’ out the middle of my forehead or somethin’? ” Leaning back from the counter like a sullen child, Jed folded his arms across his chest and glared at her with an insolent pout, better suited for a boy of five rather than eighteen.
“No, what you’ve got is a girlfriend and she ain’t me. Where is Shelly anyway?” Throwing his girlfriend into the mix usually worked at getting him to back off but not tonight. The whiskey in his system made him stubborn and she knew from past experience, mean.
“I’m not with her cause she ain’t who I want to be with.” He shot her that winning smile again. “Come on; just let me give you a ride home, what’s the harm in that?”
Plenty. She formed another rejection in her mind, ready to temper it with one of her many excuses but before she could get it out, the bell above the diner door gave a tinkle and Wade Bauer strolled in.
“I knew I’d find you here,” he said, adding a friendly smile as he approached the counter. “Hey, Melissa, how’s things?”
“They’re fine,” she said, barely able to suppress the groan of relief that welled up in her throat. Jed and Wade were nearly inseparable. If anyone could get him up and out of her hair, it was him.
Throwing her a sympathetic smile behind Jed’s back, Wade sat on the edge of the neighboring stool and gave his friend’s a nudge with his foot. “Pay the girl and let’s go. We’re all hangin’ at Duffy’s house.”
“I’m busy,” Jed said, his eyes glued to her face.
Wade gave her a nervous glance. Sometimes she got the feeling that Jed’s fixation on her made him uncomfortable. He rubbed the back of his neck and tried again. “Come on, man. Shelly’s waitin’ on you. Been asking for you all night.”
Jed made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. “I bet she has.”
“So, let’s git before the rest of the guys drain the keg and your girl still has time to get busy before she’s gotta make curfew,” Wade said, clapping a hand on Jed’s shoulder to urge him along.
“I got an idea—how about you go fuck Shelley.” Jed shrugged Wade’s hand away and lifted his cup to his mouth, taking a long swallow before he spoke again. “Because I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
Wade cut her a look, quick and sharp. “Come on, man—”
“I said I ain’t leavin’—not without my peach pie,” Jed said, letting his gaze fall, heavy and full of meaning, on Melissa's face.
&nb
sp; His words burned red circles on her cheeks and she reached for the coffee pot again, looking for any excuse to move, to disguise the nervous flutter of her hands. “Coffee, Wade?” she said, avoiding Jed’s eyes which were boring holes into her face.
“No thanks—one cup of coffee and the four beers I drank on the way here are wasted,” he said, laughing as he reached across the counter and gave her thick auburn ponytail a playful tug. He was trying to keep things light but she could tell he was struggling. “Tell you what, hack off a piece of pie for the peach lover here, throw it in a doggy bag and I’ll drag his ass out of here for you.” His mouth grinned at her but his eyes told a different story entirely. He felt just as uncomfortable as she did.
Ignoring Wade, Jed continued to glare at her, his arms crossed stubbornly over his chest. “What about the half-breed back there? He like peach pie?”
Dread dropped into her gut like a stone. “Jed, please don’t—”
Suddenly he was shoving himself away from the counter and standing, the whiskey he’d been drinking and the sudden movement sending him swaying on his feet. “Hey, Tomahawk,” he shouted. “You like peach pie?”
Looking around nervously, Melissa noted that Terry was gone—probably stepped out back to smoke—and with the exception of a few over the road haulers, and the trucker at table six, the only other person in the diner was a man who was vaguely familiar, sitting at a booth in the back, near the waitress station. He watched the exchange openly, the paperback he had open in front of him completely forgotten, his eyes, dark and unreadable, zeroed in on her. Melissa felt a ripple of unease but it lasted only seconds before she looked away.
The Sabrina Vaughn series Set 2 Page 68
