by Laura Scott
Until now.
She walked into the small kitchenette and opened the drawers until she found a few candles and matches. She placed the candles around the room, the dancing flames helping to chase away the darkness.
When she walked over to the wood burning stove, she was pleased to see that Ian had gotten a small fire started from the wood that was stacked on the floor beside it. Maybe it was only her imagination, but it seemed like the interior of the cabin was already warming up from the fire.
Ian glanced up at her. “It will take me a while to get this going. Why don’t you bring Ben inside? I’ll get the rest of your stuff as soon as I’m finished.”
She nodded. After all, Ben was her top priority. Before going back outside, she went into the smaller of the two bedrooms, grateful to see that the mattresses were still intact and hadn’t been attacked by rodents.
They’d be fine using the sleeping bags for tonight, since she knew she’d have to sleep in the living room to keep the fire going anyway. Feeling certain they were safe here, she eagerly headed back outside to get her son.
After freeing him from the booster seat, she picked him up in her arms. Ben was large for his age, and she staggered a bit as she headed inside the cabin. Ian met her at the doorway and gently pried her son away, easily handling his weight.
“Hang on, I need to gab the sleeping bag.” When she returned a few minutes later, her heart melted when she saw that Ian was holding Ben on his lap in front of the fire.
“We’re at the cabin?” Ben asked, rubbing his eyes.
“Yes, we’re here. You’re going to use your sleeping bag tonight. Won’t that be fun?”
Her son nodded and yawned. Ian stood and carried Ben into the bedroom, waiting for her to arrange the sleeping bag before lowering her son to the mattress.
She sat beside him, making sure he was tucked in.
“Mom? Dad’s not going to find us, is he?” Ben asked.
Her heart clenched in her chest and tears pricked at her eyes as she leaned down to press a reassuring kiss on his forehead. “No, he’s not going to find us. Go to sleep, okay?”
“Okay. Good night.” Her son closed his eyes and curled up onto his side.
When she straightened, she found Ian’s intense gaze boring into hers and knew with a sinking feeling that he wasn’t going to leave until he knew the truth.
Chapter Two
Ian tried not to let his anger show on his face even though he knew he should have trusted his instincts right from the start. Of course there was nothing innocent about why Sarah had decided to drive through a blizzard to come back to Crystal Lake after ten years. She and her son were hiding from her ex.
He followed Sarah back to the living room, putting a few more logs into the wood burning stove before closing and latching it shut. When he was calm, he turned to face her. “Okay, Sarah. What’s going on?”
Sarah’s cheeks were flushed, but she tilted her chin stubbornly. “Nothing is going on, Ian. I came here because I needed a break. The cabin belongs to my grandparents and they don’t mind me being here. I didn’t lie about being divorced and in case you were wondering, I was granted sole custody of Ben.”
The thought had crossed his mind that she’d run off with her son, not that he would have blamed her. The thought of Ben being afraid of his own father made him seethe with fury.
He kept his tone as non-threatening as possible. “I’m glad to hear that, but I am a police officer. You can trust me.”
For a moment she looked as if she might tell him, but then shook her head. “There’s nothing to tell.”
Who was she trying to fool? She’d never been good at lying, a fact that had gotten them in trouble more than once that summer when they’d occasionally stayed out past her curfew. “Fine, I’ll figure out what happened on my own. What’s your ex-husband’s name?”
She hesitated before she responded. “David. But I’m sure he’s more interested in getting his life back than worrying about us.” The way Sarah avoided his gaze made him believe she was glossing over the details, big time.
He knew very well there was more to this story and it was frustrating that she wouldn’t tell him the truth. But before he could ask anything more, his radio went off.
“Unit twelve, we have a report regarding a two vehicle crash on the interstate on-ramp from highway double Z. What’s your twenty?”
Ian grimaced, knowing he was the closest deputy. He pushed the button on the side of his radio to respond. “I’m about five miles away. I’ll get there as soon as possible.”
“Ten-four.”
He didn’t want to leave Sarah and Ben in the cabin alone, but he wasn’t going to shirk his duty either. Especially not when he was still on probation after the fiasco with Jesse. “I have to take this call, but write down my phone number. I want you to call me if you need anything.”
“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” she protested, crossing her arms across her chest.
He suppressed a sigh and dug into his breast pocket for his small notebook. He ripped a page out and quickly scribbled his phone number across the paper before thrusting it into her hand. “Take it, and I’ll stop by after my shift is over to check on you.”
“There’s no need; I don’t want to be a bother.”
“You’re not a bother,” he said, even though that wasn’t entirely true. He was very bothered by the thought that she was on the run from her ex-husband. And he was bothered by her refusal to let him help. But since he didn’t have time to stand there and argue with her, he turned and left the cabin, making sure the door was locked behind him. There were two keys on the ring in the planter so he kept one in his pocket so he could return early the next morning to chop more firewood.
The wind hadn’t let up, forcing him to spend a good five minutes brushing the snow off his car before he turned around and headed back toward the road. Several times his tires spun crazily, and he was relieved when he made it back to the highway without getting stuck.
As he headed toward the interstate, it appeared that a snow plow had been through recently, since there was a strip down the middle of the road that wasn’t snow covered. He glanced at the time, realizing that it was later than he’d thought, a little past one in the morning.
Six more hours to go until the end of his shift. At least fighting through the storm would help the time go by faster.
Because no matter what Sarah had said, he was determined to go back to check on them.
Maybe she was safe at her grandparent’s cabin for now, since he doubted that her ex-husband would be able to find the place in the storm. But the snowy weather wouldn’t last forever.
And Ian feared it wouldn’t take much for David Franklin to find Sarah and Ben.
Despite the late hour, Sarah wasn’t the least bit sleepy. She only had a six pack of water and needed to save that for drinking so she searched for several large pots and pans in the kitchen and took them outside to fill them with snow. Then she set them on the table to melt so they’d have wash water in the morning. She blew out the candles, knowing she’d need to save them for the next few days until she could figure out if there was a way to get electrical service hooked up.
The musty smell inside the cabin made her sneeze, and she wished that she could open the windows to air the place out. Since that wasn’t an option she snuggled down in her sleeping bag, grateful that she’d washed it a few weeks ago. The day she’d learned about David’s parole hearing, in fact.
After all, her mother’s illness had taught her to always be prepared for the worst.
She closed her eyes, trying to forget the memories that came rushing back. Memories of the carefree summer she’d spent with Ian. The sobering shock at finding out about her mother’s cancer. Her father’s subsequent heart attack.
David’s slow and insidious betrayal.
After taking several deep breaths, she prayed, seeking peace. She’d sought refuge in church after David’s arrest, pleased to discover that faith
could fill the holes in her heart and soul in a way she’d never expected.
She only wished she’d found the strength of faith sooner. Before she’d met David. Before her parents had died within six months of each other.
Sarah gave herself a mental shake. Enough with the regrets already. She and Ben were fine. David wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near her and he didn’t know the location of the cabin. And if by some strange chance he did show up, she’d have him arrested.
Just the thought of David finding them made her shiver with fear, despite the cozy warmth radiating from the wood burning stove. She silently recited the prayers she knew by memory, finally relaxing enough to fall asleep.
A loud bang woke her up and she shot upright on the sofa, looking around in panic. Her gaze stumbled across Ian kneeling next to a pile of fallen logs.
“Sorry,” Ian said, as he stacked the logs back up and then slowly rose to his feet. She realized he must have dropped the wood, which explained the loud noise.
She jammed a hand through her tangled hair. “I’m perfectly capable of bringing in the firewood,” she muttered.
Ian lifted a brow, looking far more handsome in the early morning light than she remembered. Or maybe she hadn’t looked at him closely enough last night. It took her a minute to realize he’d changed out of his uniform, wearing soft denim jeans and a flannel work shirt beneath his jacket.
“Yes, I’m sure you are, but since I’m here, why not let me take care of it? You probably didn’t get much rest. And by the way, the storm is over. The snow stopped about an hour ago.”
She was exhausted, but refused to let Ian Kramer bulldoze her. When he left the cabin again, she crawled out of the sleeping bag and pulled a heavy navy blue Chicago sweatshirt over her T-shirt. She slipped her feet into her running shoes and then walked over to the table. The pots she’d filled with snow were now more than half full of water, so she carried the largest one over to set it on top of the wood burning stove to get warm. Then she used water bottles to fill the tea kettle.
Digging through one of the boxes she’d packed before leaving home, she found several packets of instant oatmeal and two apples. Maybe not exactly a gourmet breakfast, but enough that they wouldn’t go hungry.
Ian returned with another armload of wood. He took the time to stack the logs into neat piles.
“Was anyone hurt?” she asked, breaking the silence.
He glanced up in surprise, and then shook his head when he realized what she was asking. “No, thankfully the drivers of the cars were both driving slow enough that there were no injuries.”
“I’m glad,” she murmured, going through the kitchen drawers to find spoons. “We’re having oatmeal for breakfast if you’re hungry.”
Her pulse jumped when his teeth flashed in a wide smile. “Sounds great.”
She stared at him for a long minute, struck by just how different Ian was from David. How could she have believed herself to be in love with a man who used his tongue like a whip? Constantly cutting her down was one thing, but she couldn’t bear it when David began to treat Ben the same way.
And then things had gone from bad to worse.
“Mom? I hav’ta go to the bathroom.”
She turned to find Ben standing there, rubbing his eyes and looking adorably sleep-rumpled. Her heart swelled with love and relief when she realized her son seemed more like his normal self after a good night’s sleep.
“Me too,” she confided. “But we’re going to have to use the outhouse, remember? The snow is deep so put on your coat and your boots, okay?”
“Not too deep. I shoveled a path when I first got here,” Ian said.
She was grateful she didn’t have to do the work, but at the same time, she didn’t like feeling helpless. “Thanks, but I could have done that too. I grew up in Chicago; I know how to deal with snow. And I know what it’s like to rough it up here.”
“Not in the winter,” he pointed out.
She narrowed her gaze, tempted to tell him to get lost and leave her alone, but Ben was hopping from one foot to the other so she quickly helped her son get his coat and boots on before grabbing her own winter things.
“Wow, look at all this snow!” Ben exclaimed when they walked out onto the porch. A good twelve inches had fallen, fresh snow covering the bare tree branches in a way that was breathtakingly beautiful. The sun wasn’t quite up yet, but the sky was clear, giving her hope that the blizzard was gone for good.
“Maybe we can build a snowman after breakfast,” she suggested with a smile.
“Okay,” Ben agreed eagerly.
She took his hand and led him down the path Ian had shoveled to the outhouse. The smell wasn’t as bad as she remembered, probably because of the cold and fresh snowfall. She gave Ben the roll of toilet paper, letting him go inside first.
When she emerged a few minutes later, taking a minute to use the hand sanitizer from her coat pocket, she couldn’t help but smile when she found Ian showing Ben how to pack a snowball. For a moment she savored the image, wishing for something she couldn’t have.
Ian glanced up and captured her gaze and for a long second her throat was so tight she couldn’t breathe. What was wrong with her? Her emotions were a chaotic mess. One minute she was grateful to Ian for his kind help and support, but then in the next she resented the way he was trying to take over her life.
She forced herself to take a deep breath. Logically, she knew Ian wasn’t really trying to take over anything, but she was afraid to let go of the hard-won control that she’d managed to find after David’s arrest.
A snowball hit her in the stomach, and her mouth dropped open in surprise when Ben began to giggle.
“I got you, Mom! I got you.”
She laughed and brushed off the snow. “Yes, you did.”
Ian scooped up some snow and lobbed it at her, and she let out a yelp as it found its mark. She began to make a snowball of her own, intending to get back at Ian, when Ben beat her to it.
“I got you too, mister!” her son crowed.
“That’s Mr. Ian to you,” Ian said as he scooped up more snow. But she was step ahead of him, her snowball hitting him high in his chest.
“Hey, it’s not fair to gang up on me,” Ian protested, although the wide grin on his face wasn’t the least bit intimidating.
The snowballs flew back and forth, missing their intended targets about half the time. Sarah tried to dodge a snowball from Ian and ended up falling backward into a huge snow drift.
“Are you all right?” he asked, hurrying over. The concern in his expression made her want to cry.
“I’m fine,” she insisted as he helped her up. Ian’s hands were on her shoulders as he searched her expression. His green eyes were intense, sending a fission of sizzling awareness down her spine. For several seconds, it was all she could do not to throw herself into his arms.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had fun with a man. Probably ten years, since the summer she’d spent here in Crystal Lake with Ian. Ironic that he’d given that gift back to her today.
Another snowball hit Ian in the back. He grinned and glanced over to where Ben was giggling as he scraped together more snow.
“That’s enough, Ben,” she called out.
When another snowball flew by, missing them by a wide berth, Ian shook his head. “Uncle! We’re crying uncle.”
“Uncle who?” Ben asked in confusion.
Ian chuckled. “That means me and your mom have had enough,” he explained. “No more snowballs.”
“Ever?” Ben asked, a forlorn expression on his face.
“For now,” she clarified, pulling away from Ian’s grasp to approach her son. Putting distance between her and Ian didn’t help, since she could still feel the warm imprint of his hands through her winter jacket. “How about we get some breakfast?”
“Yes!” Ben exclaimed. “I’m starving.”
Ian didn’t say anything, so she glanced back to find him staring at her intent
ly. “You’re welcome to join us for oatmeal,” she offered.
A hint of a smile crossed his features. “Sounds good. I think I have enough firewood chopped for now anyway.”
Belatedly she realized there was an entire stack of new wood on the south end of the cabin porch, in addition to the logs he’d already brought inside. And no matter how much she wanted to be independent, she was grateful she hadn’t been forced to chop all that wood by herself. “Well then, breakfast is the least we can do.”
Inside the cabin she helped Ben take off his winter gear, making sure to put the scarf, hat and mittens near the wood burning stove to dry. After taking off her own things, she checked the temperature of the water in the tea kettle on the stove.
The water wasn’t boiling, but she decided steaming hot would have to do.
Using the hot water that was in the pan, she quickly washed the dishes they would need for breakfast. Ben came into the kitchen to sit at the table, waiting patiently for her to finish.
Ian followed more slowly, as if unsure of his welcome. “Almost ready,” she promised. “I just need to cut up the apples.”
“Okay,” Ian said.
She filled three bowls with dried oatmeal and then poured the hot water from the tea kettle over the oats and then stirred them. Then she topped the bowls with green apple slices. Ian surprised her by coming over to help carry them to the table.
After taking a seat across from Ian, she glanced over at Ben. “We have to pray first, remember?”
Her son nodded and folded his small hands together. She bowed her head. “Dear Lord, thank You for providing this food for us to eat and for the shelter of this cabin. We ask for Your strength and guidance as we follow the path You have chosen for us. We ask this in the name of Christ the Lord, Amen.”
