The Hidden Heir
Page 8
Then again, it was a man’s attention that had started this whole nightmare.
That was just wrong. She chastised herself for thinking such a thing. If she hadn’t met Desmond, she wouldn’t have Jamie.
Jamie. She plopped onto her bottom near her patient. She’d named her son Avery when he was born. Running away had required a change in more than scenery. She had become Nola and he’d become Jamie. He wasn’t even aware he’d ever had any other name.
All the lies and the deception, that was the saddest part of all. Her son’s entire life was based upon a pyramid of untruths. She couldn’t help wondering if he would hold that against her one day.
Her gaze rested on Devers again. And if what he said about Desmond’s health was true, their freedom might very well be close at hand. It wasn’t right that she let herself feel that way. Desmond was human, after all. She shouldn’t wish for his demise.
But she did.
She hated him for what he’d done to her and their child. He cared about no one but himself. She could not bring herself to believe that he would ever, in a million years, care about his son. This whole child support and estate thing was likely nothing more than an elaborate trick to lure her into a trap.
She had to get out of here. Warn her mother and then disappear.
A weariness she’d never felt before settled over her. She was tired. Tired of running. No matter how many times she’d done it before, this time felt different. Maybe she was different.
Whatever the case, she had no other option. Staying was out of the question.
All she had to do was figure out what she would do with him.
A dog howled in the direction of the shack.
A new kind of fear shivered up her spine.
More howling. At least two dogs.
She shook Devers. He groaned. “Wake up, Devers,” she urged.
He struggled up onto his elbows and forced his eyes open. “What’s wrong?”
“Dogs.” As if to punctuate the one word howling echoed through the trees. “They’ve got dogs now.”
“Water.”
She frowned. “What?” She was thirsty, too, but this was no time to think about a drink.
“We need water.” Swaying a little, he managed to achieve a respectable sitting position. “They can’t pick up our scent in water.”
“Oh, I get it. Like walking through a stream.”
“That would do it.” He scrubbed his hair back, careful of his injury. “You know where there’s a handy stream around here?”
She laughed giddily, panic nipping at her heels. “As a matter of fact I do.”
After helping Devers to his feet, she held on to his hand and moved as quickly as she felt she could with him in tow. Maybe she was just lucky, or maybe God was looking out for them, but the stream they needed wasn’t far from their current location.
When she’d found it the first time, she remembered thinking how it might come in handy some time. She’d gone back to it each time she came this way just to make sure she recalled the route to take. The stream meandered through the woods for about a mile then spilled into a narrow snaking river.
She just hoped that the long hot July days hadn’t dried the stream to a trickle.
Maybe their luck would hold out.
KEITH LEANED against a tree to catch his breath.
Damn, he hadn’t felt this weak in…he couldn’t remember ever feeling this useless. He could walk, but running was out of the question. His head didn’t ache quite so bad as a few hours ago. And the dizziness had eased up a bit. The nausea, well, that was a different story.
He closed his eyes and fought back a wave of nausea. Apparently the guy had been trying to kill him versus knocking him unconscious.
When his gut had calmed, he opened his eyes once more and watched the woman survey the road beyond the tree line. It wasn’t quite dark yet, but wading through that stream and then crossing the river had given them an edge on their pursuers.
According to his reluctant guide, they had arrived at a highway she knew well. She was now watching for a car that she might wave down for a ride.
The one thing he couldn’t do was let her get out of his sight. In his current condition, he didn’t want to find himself trying to run her down.
Bracing for the pain, he pushed off the tree and took the half-dozen or so steps that separated them. His shoes were still soggy but his trouser legs were pretty much dry.
“Anything yet?”
She didn’t look at him, just shook her head. “Don’t worry, though. Someone will come along.”
He wondered if her frequent upheavals had enabled her to maintain such an optimistic attitude in the face of dour conditions. To date, he hadn’t seen anything get her down. Not even a handful of drug thugs.
“Here we go.” She nodded toward the headlights in the distance.
“Wait long enough to be sure it’s not a pickup truck,” he suggested, not wanting to run into the thugs again. He was unarmed and pretty much helpless.
“It’s a car,” she said after a moment’s consideration.
When she was about to step clear of the trees, he grabbed her by the arm and held her back. “Maybe I should stick with you.”
She rolled her eyes. “I won’t leave you, Devers.”
He tried to read her eyes only she wasn’t allowing that. But he had to confess, she hadn’t left him yet and she’d had ample opportunity. “All right.”
Ashley Orrick slipped out of the woods and rushed toward the pavement, waving madly.
All he needed was a phone. One call to Ben and he’d have everything he needed within a few hours. First he had to get to civilization.
Incredibly, the car stopped. Keith refrained from the urge to shake his head. He couldn’t believe people still did that. A hitchhiker could turn out to be a serial killer. As could the kind of driver who would pick up a hitchhiker, he countered. The thought had him easing farther into the open.
The driver apparently agreed to her request. Ashley looked back toward his location. As Keith was about to step out of the woods, she wrenched the front passenger door open and jumped in. The car roared off.
It took three seconds for his brain to catch up with his eyes.
He lunged out of the woods. Scrambled down and then up the ditch that separated the forest from the pavement. But he was too late to get the license plate number.
Fury burned through him. More at his own stupidity than at her resourcefulness.
He should have expected her to run. She’d gotten him out of danger and now she had to protect herself.
“Dammit!”
He started walking.
What choice did he have?
What was the likelihood that anyone would pick him up? He looked a mess, his head was bleeding.
Nada.
He hadn’t gotten far when he heard the sound of a car coming. It was going in the opposite direction from the one Ashley had taken, but, hey, beggars couldn’t be choosers. Right now he just needed a lift.
And a phone.
As the vehicle neared, astonishment washed over him, making him dizzy. This time, it had nothing to do with his head injury.
It was the same car Ashley had hopped into and taken off in.
The car stopped in front of him and Ashley leaned toward the driver and shouted past him. “Sorry, I guess I forgot about you.”
The driver looked skeptical but didn’t say anything.
She hitched her thumb toward the backseat. “Hop in. Larry’s going to give us a ride into town.”
Keith didn’t question her change of heart, he climbed into the back seat and Larry took off.
He watched Ashley as she chatted with their Good Samaritan about how their car had broken down so many miles back that she couldn’t even remember how long they’d been walking. Larry grunted a couple of times but didn’t say much. He seemed too enthralled with the lady’s voice.
Keith had to admit that the sound was very pleasant.
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Pretty lady, sweet voice.
What was the deal with her?
She’d been running for ten years. Had painstakingly kept her son hidden from his father. Why hadn’t she run when she had the chance? Chances, actually. She’d had several.
Hell, he’d been unconscious for most of the afternoon. It wasn’t as if she’d left him with those thugs. She’d gotten him to safety when he damned sure hadn’t been able to help himself.
He didn’t get it.
Exhaustion kept him from pondering the question any longer. Whatever the answer, he was glad she hadn’t run out on him.
As grateful as he was, her act of compassion changed absolutely nothing.
He had a job to do, and he intended to do it as long as he was still breathing.
By the time they reached Waynesville, it was dark.
Ashley thanked the driver profusely. Keith let her do the talking. She hadn’t stopped since the guy had picked them up. He couldn’t figure out if she was nervous or just trying to make the guy feel comfortable with two haggard strangers in his car.
“I need a shower,” she said as she reached under a rock near the steps for her hidden spare key. “But first I have to have some food and water.” She climbed the steps and crossed the porch.
Keith looked down at himself. He could use a shower as well, but finding clothes, well that would have to wait until he’d reached Ben.
Inside, she led the way to the kitchen, flipping on lights as she went. “Will your friends come looking for you since you didn’t report in today?”
He leaned against the doorjamb. He’d been doing a lot of leaning today. “Why do you ask?”
She grabbed a couple of bottles of water from the fridge and handed one to him. “I’m just trying to decide if I made a mistake when I had Larry go back to pick you up.”
Keith twisted the cap off his water and downed half of it before he stopped. It felt good sliding down his parched throat. Man, he hadn’t realized just how thirsty he was.
When he wiped his mouth with his hand, he asked, “Why did you come back?”
She’d finished off most of her water, as well. “I don’t know.” Her shoulders lifted, then fell. “Felt like the right thing to do.” She downed the last of her water. “Go ahead and find something to eat. I’ve gotta get in that shower.”
When she reached the door, he said, “Thanks for saving my ass back there.”
She looked back at him for several moments before she responded. “No problem. Just don’t make me regret it.”
Funny thing was, he already regretted what he knew he had to do.
ASHLEY STOOD under the hot spray of water and relished the sensation of warmth. It felt good gliding down her skin, washing away the day’s stress and grime.
She closed her eyes and washed her hair, letting her fingers knead her scalp a little while longer than necessary. She was so tired. But did she dare sleep?
Her top priority had to be giving Devers the slip. There was no reason to worry about him now. There was food, water and a phone here. He wouldn’t need any further assistance from her.
As the shampoo suds slid down her skin she mentally kicked herself for being a total idiot. She should have left him on the side of the road. He would have been fine. Someone else would have come along and even if they hadn’t stopped, they would probably have called the police to report an injured man wandering along the road.
No. She’d had to play the hero. Doing the whole neighborly thing. Now she’d lost her edge. And most assuredly her head start on whatever Desmond was up to.
She scrubbed at her hair, rinsing it clean. A dozen times in the past ten years, she’d picked up in the middle of a perfectly good life and walked away without looking back.
Why in the world had she looked back today?
And that was what she’d done. She’d stared out that rear window and saw him standing by the side of the road all alone and she hadn’t been able to put the image out of her head.
She’d ended up talking Larry into going back for him. She’d covered herself by telling him that she and Devers had had a fight and she’d planned to just leave him there to show him who was boss. But she hadn’t been able to follow through with it. Dear old Larry had fallen for her story all the way to her insistence that she and Devers would live happily ever after.
Yeah, right. Hadn’t she learned the hard way that there were no happily ever afters? No knights in shining armor. Fairy tales were just that…tales…fiction.
She couldn’t totally explain today’s lapse in judgment but she was back on track now. The first chance she got, she was out of here. Too much was at stake for her to behave this stupidly for no good reason.
In a hurry now, she quickly cleansed her body, then stepped out onto the fuzzy bathmat. She wrapped a towel around her hair and her body and headed to her room for fresh clothes.
In the hall outside the bathroom, she drew up short.
Keith Devers waited there for her.
“I had a sandwich. Made one for you, too.”
She blinked, tried to decide what to say, but it was difficult with him looking at her that way. His cheeks flamed ever so slightly and he turned away about the same time that she realized that she was standing there in nothing but a skimpy towel.
“A sandwich? Great. I’ll just get some clothes first.”
Could she sound any more lame?
She dashed to her bedroom and slipped on clean undies, jeans and a T-shirt. Before going out of her room, she quickly prepared a getaway bag with sneakers, socks, another change of clothes and one of the five toiletry kits she kept ready for takeoff. She hid the bag between her bed and the wall.
With her hair still in a towel, she left her room. Found Devers waiting for her in the hall.
“Don’t you want a shower?” He had to be feeling sticky and dirty all over just as she had.
“Yeah, that’d be great, but there’s a little problem.”
She tensed. “What kind of problem?”
He flared his hands as if he hated to bring up the subject. “I’m still having a problem with dizziness. I’m not sure I can trust myself in a slippery shower.”
Suspicion reared its ugly head. “What do you want me to do?” She should never have asked the question.
“If you could just make yourself handy. You know, be in the room while I shower. I’ll be quick,” he added hopefully.
What could she say? She’d asked for it.
With her back to the shower, she stood in the bathroom, her arms crossed over her chest. She was out of her mind. That was the only possible explanation.
If listening to him shed his clothes hadn’t been bad enough, now she had to hear him moan at the feel of the hot water sluicing over his skin. Of course she understood that it felt great after what they’d been through. His muscles were likely aching. His head probably still hurt. The heat from the water would relax him and make him feel immensely better.
The runaway thoughts had images forming in her head that she didn’t need to see, now or ever.
All the splashing, moaning and sighs of relief were just about more than she could take. Clearly there was no reason for her to be in the room. He had everything under control.
“Could you hand me that towel?”
The deep sound of his voice raked over her already raw nerves and she jumped.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. But I forgot my towel.”
She grabbed the towel from the stool and handed it back to him, careful to keep her eyes directly in front of her. Turning around was out of the question.
Closing her eyes, she struggled to block the rasp of terry cloth over skin.
“I feel much better now.”
“Good.” She reached for the door. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”
“Do you have a robe or something I could borrow?”
She couldn’t say what possessed her at that moment, but some errant female chromosome had her whirling around
to stare at him.
Miles and miles of tanned flesh stretched over well defined muscle, marred only by another of those skimpy towels she’d bought at the dollar store, greeted her.
He smiled wanly. “I’ll have to figure something out on the clothes.”
She definitely should have left him on the side of that road.
Now, no matter what she did, that incredible image would be forever burned onto her retinas.
Chapter Seven
Keith paced the living room of Ashley Orrick’s small home, pausing once every few minutes to peek out the window for the anticipated delivery. The messenger should be there any time now. He glanced at the digital read out on the television’s cable box: 11:15 p.m.
He verified again that the kitchen and rear door were secure before moving into the short hall to check her room. She’d gone to bed half an hour ago. He’d insisted she leave the door open. She didn’t like it, but she gave in when faced with his unyielding determination.
She hadn’t moved a muscle as far as he could tell. Still sleeping soundly.
At least she looked as if she was asleep. But he didn’t trust her so he assumed nothing.
He’d never met a more resourceful woman.
He leaned against the doorjamb, let the light that stretched into the hall from the living room fall softly across her face and watched the steady rise and fall of her chest. She’d kept a vehicle hidden in a remote location for a quick getaway in the event she was made. He wondered how many gas stations along how many routes she had scouted to ensure she could escape from a variety of locations. She appeared to know every tree and trail in those woods off the interstate.
Absolutely amazing.
He wouldn’t even hazard to guess how many other escape routes she had around the town she had called home for the past year.
It took a hell of a lot of motivation to go to those lengths to protect herself and the location of her child. That alone made him wonder about Desmond Van Valkenberg. Could he be the monster Ashley Orrick and her mother thought him to be?
Still, the man was dying. Whatever kind of boyfriend he’d been ten years ago, didn’t he deserve the opportunity to know his only child?