“He also wouldn’t control my life the way you are, Mom,” Morgan reminded her without suppressing the sarcasm in her tone.
A dull pain stabbed at her chest. If her father hadn’t died of a heart attack five years ago, her life would have turned out much different, that much was certain. He’d never tried to control her, or tell her how to live her life the way her mother had done. He’d always been a buffer between his wife and daughter, and since his death, Melissa Bartlett had become even more relentless.
“Someone has to see to it that you act responsibly, Morgan,” her mother went on. “Remember what happened two years ago, when you decided to run off to Montana. I’m still trying to fix the mess you got yourself into then, and you’re fighting me tooth and nail.”
Morgan expelled a deep breath of air. “There’s nothing to fix, Mom. I didn’t run off. I went on vacation with a friend.”
“And you came home pregnant.” Her mother didn’t miss a beat.
“And you were more than happy about that, weren’t you, after you found out who Logan’s father is,” Morgan retorted just as quickly.
She couldn’t maintain her calm demeanor any longer. Her heart began to pound in anger, and her pulse throbbed at her temples. With each word, her voice rose. “I’ve told you a million times. Bryce and I are over. He was a mistake, and I’m not about to make an even bigger one by marrying him.”
“If you won’t think about your embarrassment to me, consider what it will mean to Logan if he doesn’t have a father,” her mother hissed. “Bryce is wealthy and influential. Think about your son’s future.”
“I am thinking about his future,” Morgan almost whispered.
Her cheek tingled, and she let go of the steering wheel for a split second to touch it. She might have been able to tolerate Bryce for the sake of their child, but when he’d hit her one evening after he’d come home from the office in a bad mood, he’d crossed the line. She’d moved as fast as her eight-month pregnant body could move, and had grabbed her essentials and left his townhouse with the promise that she wouldn’t return.
To this day, she regretted that she’d simply walked away rather than call the police. The idea of leaving her son in his care, subject to his volatile temper, didn’t sit well with her, but she didn’t have much choice if Bryce pressed the issue of joint custody.
“Morgan.” Her mother’s shrill voice cut into her thoughts. “If you don’t come home this instant, or tell me where you are, I’m going to send John to look for you. He’ll have no problem finding you.”
Morgan glanced at her phone, a jolt of adrenaline rushing through her. There was no doubt her mother’s private investigator could find her in a heartbeat. She laughed to hide her sudden apprehension.
“What are you going to have him do, Mom? Arrest me? Drag me home in handcuffs?” She inhaled a deep breath before continuing. “I’m an adult, Mom. I’ve legally been an adult for five years, if you need reminding. I don’t need your permission to stay out late or go to a friend’s house for a sleepover anymore.”
There was an audible huff on the other end of the line. “If that’s how you want to play, Morgan, fine.” Her mother’s voice had turned frigid. “You leave me no choice. Tomorrow morning I’m calling my lawyer. All of your funds will be frozen until you regain your senses and come home.”
Morgan cursed under her breath. Without her trust fund, she couldn’t continue to support the cause she’d involved herself with while in Montana. Other than Logan, it was the one thing that truly gave her a sense of purpose.
“You can’t do that. That money belongs to me. Dad put that in trust for me.”
Her mother laughed coldly. “I have the legal right to hold your trust money until you are twenty-five. That’s still a few years away.”
Damn her!
All her life, her mother had found a way to manipulate and control her. Morgan had had no say about where she went to college or what she would study, the guys she dated, or the friends she hung out with. She’d always found ways around her mother’s controlling behavior, though. This time would be no different.
Beside the liberal arts degree her mother insisted she receive, Morgan had enrolled in some cooking classes at the local community college without her mother’s knowledge. She’d always enjoyed cooking, but that was menial labor in her mother’s eyes.
When Melissa Bartlett had insisted she accompany her to Europe two summers ago, Morgan had boarded a plane with Ashley instead, a friend she’d met in one of those cooking classes. Ashley had invited her to come to Montana for a month-long adventure on a dude ranch run by a distant relative. Morgan had instantly fallen in love with Montana’s vastness, and open spaces.
She frowned. Unfortunately, Montana was also where she’d met Bryce. He’d been on a business trip with some real estate developers, and after a few evenings out, and too much to drink, he’d wormed his way into her bed. She hadn’t listened to the warning bells that had chimed louder in her head the more time she spent with him. She’d even agreed to move in with him after they both returned to L.A. At the time, she’d seen it as a way to get out from under her mother’s controlling nose, but Bryce had turned out to be no better than her mother.
“Morgan, you have until nine o’clock tomorrow morning to come home, or I’m having your account frozen.”
Morgan yanked the phone away from the side of her head. She’d had enough of her mother for today. It wasn’t the first time she’d resorted to threats to get her way. She held the phone out in front of her, forcefully touched her finger to the red digital display button that said “End”, then tossed it onto the passenger seat.
When she glanced up again, her heart nearly jumped from her throat. Two eyes illuminated in her headlights, then the shadow of a small animal scurried across the street. Her right foot slammed down on the brake, and she wrenched the steering wheel to the left, driving off the road and onto the gravel side. The car skidded to a halt, stopping just short of the edge of the ditch that no doubt served as a water channel during winter.
Morgan expelled a relieved breath of air. Her entire body trembled, nevertheless. Gripping the steering wheel with both hands, she leaned forward and touched her forehead to the leather. She inhaled deeply several times.
“You didn’t hit the animal,” she whispered to calm her frazzled nerves. A bird had flown into her windshield several years ago. The thought that she might have killed it still made her sick to her stomach.
Morgan raised her head. She ran a shaky hand through her hair, brushing strands out of her face. She shifted the car into park, and eased her foot off the brake. It probably wasn’t a good idea to remain here along the side of the road, but she needed a moment to regain her composure. The conversation with her mother still made her insides seethe.
She looked up and out the window. Night had descended on the desert. Everything beyond the beams of light streaming from the car’s headlights was drowned in blackness. She leaned forward and tilted her head upward to get a better view of the night sky. All those stars were breathtaking. She was almost tempted to turn off the lights and sit here for a while, but she had to get to Ashley’s place. This little mishap was delaying her even more.
Morgan nearly jumped out of her seat when her phone vibrated on the leather next to her. One hand flew to her chest; the other pressed the horn on the steering wheel. She quickly yanked it away.
“If I make it through this night without suffering a heart attack, I’ll be thanking my lucky stars,” she muttered, her heart beating painfully up into her throat.
A quick glance at the phone, and her jaw muscles tightened. The display read “Mom”. Suddenly, the screen went dark. Morgan smiled. The battery had finally died.
Her smile quickly faded. The charger was at Ashley’s place. She shouldn’t have left without a fully charged phone, but she hadn’t anticipated being gone so long, or that she’d be on the phone with her mother.
Morgan breathed deeply. She sat and waite
d for her heart rate to return to normal, and unscrewed the cap from the water bottle that sat in the center console cup holder. She held the bottle to her lips, looking out into the darkness. Her gaze followed the beams of her headlights, then froze. She choked on the water she’d just swallowed.
Coughing, and pounding her chest with one hand, she nearly spilled the bottle in her haste to set it back in the holder. She gripped the steering wheel, leaned forward, and squinted out into the ditch, scanning where the light faded into darkness. Had she imagined it? Something had moved out there, low to the ground, something bigger than a rabbit.
Get out of here, Morgan. Common sense pounded in her brain.
She stared again, looking for any more movement.
Don’t be silly. It’s probably just a coyote.
Her nerves were so frazzled, every little thing made her jumpy right now.
“What if it’s a stray dog?” she asked out loud. “And he’s lost?” She couldn’t leave a dog out here in the desert to fend for itself. Hinkley was still a good twenty miles away. Heartless people dumped unwanted animals on back roads like this all the time.
Morgan squinted again, then her eyes widened. The silhouette of someone lying in the dirt came into focus.
“Oh, God,” she gasped. Was it a dead body? No, it had moved just a moment ago.
Without thinking, she fumbled through the glove compartment, feeling for the wrench she kept there.
Call 9-1-1
She reached for her phone, but stopped. “You can’t call 9-1-1. The battery died.”
Morgan shook her head. She could drive away, and call the police from Ashley’s house. Before her brain formed any more rational thoughts, she opened the car door, and stepped out. Her legs were about as sturdy as cotton candy.
“Hello?” she called, her voice eerily loud in the quiet of the desert. Only crickets chirped in the darkness. Beads of perspiration formed on her forehead. It had probably cooled to eighty degrees at this point after a sweltering day.
Gripping the wrench tightly in her right hand, Morgan moved toward the body. A low groan, almost like a growl, reached her ear. The closer she moved, the more details came into focus. A man lay sprawled out on the ground, face down in the dirt. His left arm moved slightly upward, and his head lifted almost imperceptibly. A cowboy hat lay next to his broad torso.
Throwing caution to the wind, Morgan rushed up to the man. If he’d been out here since before the sun went down, he’d die of dehydration very quickly. She knelt beside him, the harsh gravel of the desert sand biting into her bare knees.
“Can you hear me?” She bent down and whispered close to his face. The smell of sweat, leather, and something coppery filled her nose. His hair appeared to be dark, probably almost black.
The man groaned again. Morgan touched his face, then quickly drew her hand back. Although she couldn’t see much, the stickiness on her fingers could only be blood. Had someone beaten this man, and dumped him here to die?
The man rasped again, and Morgan leaned in closer.
“Cora.”
“You need a doctor,” Morgan said softly. “Can you move? I can drive you.”
“No . . . doctor,” he wheezed. With another painful moan, he braced his hands against the ground, and pushed his upper body off the dirt.
Morgan stood, bent forward, and wrapped her hands around his right arm to help him try and rise. The feel of solid biceps through his shirt was unexpected.
She tugged on his arm, but it was clear that she could never budge this man by herself. He looked to be of average height and weight, but he was solid.
“I know you’re in a lot of pain, but if you can try and get up, I’ll help you out of this gully and to my car,” she encouraged.
“No . . . doctor,” he rasped again, more forcefully.
“No doctor,” Morgan repeated. Was this man a criminal? That’s the only reason she could come up with why he wouldn’t want medical help. He was obviously pretty beat up.
What are you going to do with him, Morgan?
There was only one thing she could do. Bring him to Ashley’s place. Her friend would understand. Maybe. What choice did she have? She was already really late getting back. She looked toward the road. While she’d enjoyed the solitude earlier, now would be a good time for another car to come along.
“Is there somewhere I can take you?” she asked. “I’m afraid my cell phone died. I can’t call anyone.”
Way to go, Morgan. Let him know you’re in the middle of nowhere without the means to call for help. He could be a serial killer, for all she knew.
“No,” was all he said.
He finally managed to stand on his feet. Wobbling slightly, he took a step forward.
Morgan snatched his hat up off the ground, then curled her arm around his waist to help him catch his balance. The man straightened, and clutched at his stomach. He leaned heavily against her. Morgan gritted her teeth and braced her feet in the dirt for fear of falling over from his weight. He was taller than she’d first thought, her head reaching just past his chin. The man’s rank odor overpowered her, and she cleared her throat. No doubt the white tank top she wore would be beyond cleaning after this.
“My car is just a dozen or so yards up ahead. You can make it. I’ve got a little water.”
The mention of water seemed to have spurred him forward. Slowly, he moved one unsteady foot in front of the other. He stumbled once going up the slight incline of the drainage ditch, but thankfully caught himself with a hand on the ground before falling completely.
“Almost there,” Morgan cheered him on. She adjusted her arm around his waist, even though it was a futile exercise. If he fell, she wouldn’t have the strength to prevent it.
When they reached the car, she quickly opened the rear passenger door, and guided him toward it. He’d no doubt be more comfortable in the back, if he wanted to lie down. Luckily, she’d left Logan’s car seat at Ashley’s house.
The man hesitated, and looked at her. There wasn’t enough light to see his face clearly, but the little glimpse she caught startled her. One of his eyes looked to be swollen shut, and blood and dirt streaked his face.
“I won’t take you to the authorities,” she said gently, guessing at his hesitation to get in the car. “Whatever happened to you is none of my business. I’ll take you somewhere where you can get cleaned up and rest for the night, and tomorrow you can decide what you want to do.”
His dark gaze rested on her, an almost puzzled expression on his face. Morgan swallowed back the lump of apprehension in her throat. She would owe Ashley big time for bringing this man to her place. She couldn’t simply leave him out here, though. If Ashley wanted to, she could call the cops.
That’s one of your biggest flaws, Morgan. You’re too trusting. It’s what got you in the mess with Bryce.
Yes, but this time, she didn’t hear any warning bells chiming in her head.
Chapter Three
“I can’t believe you brought this guy with you.”
Ashley’s hand was on her hip, and she glared at Morgan from across the kitchen. Morgan bounced Logan at her waist, handing him a sippy cup of water.
“It’s time for bed, young man,” she said, smiling at her one-year-old son, and tousled his sandy blonde hair. “Thanks for getting him bathed and ready for bed, Ash. I’ll be back in a minute to take care of our stray.” She smiled at her friend in an attempt to make peace, then quickly left the small kitchen and headed down the hall.
After looking at pictures with Logan of farm animals in his favorite picture book, Morgan tucked her son in his bed with his cuddle blanket, and returned to the kitchen for a glass of ice tea.
“He hasn’t moved,” Ashley said, the disapproving look on her face gone, replaced with one of concern. “That guy’s pretty beat up. Are you sure we shouldn’t call an ambulance, or the police?” she whispered, craning her neck toward the living room. “Can you now please explain to me where and how you found him? And mor
e important, what on earth you were thinking when you picked him up?”
Morgan climbed onto one of the kitchen stools at the counter, and took a sip of her tea. The ice cubes swirled noisily around when she jiggled the glass in front of her, and she inhaled a long breath, contemplating the last hour. The guy had been fast asleep by the time she’d reached Ashley’s two-bedroom white-stuccoed house in Hinkley.
Her mother would have called this place a dilapidated shack. To Morgan, it was home for now, a place to escape her mother’s constant scrutiny and badgering. To get out of her mother’s house in Brentwood, Morgan had immediately accepted Ashley’s offer when she’d asked her to move in a week ago. This California desert town was the last place anyone would look for her.
When she’d tried to wake the guy to get him out of her car in Ashley’s driveway, he’d uttered the name Cora again, the same word she’d heard him say before. Was that his girlfriend, or wife? After some coaxing and prodding, she’d finally managed to maneuver him into the house and onto the living room couch, where he’d passed out again.
She’d immediately changed out of her dirt and blood-stained clothes, and before she’d had a chance to explain herself fully to Ashley, Logan had demanded her attention.
“I couldn’t think of anything else to do, Ashley,” Morgan said apologetically. “He said he didn’t want to go to a doctor, so all I could think of at the time was to bring him here.”
Morgan looked at her friend across the counter, and held her gaze. “I can’t explain it, he just doesn’t strike me as dangerous.” She shrugged.
Ashley smirked. “Maybe because he doesn’t look anything like Mr. Rich-and-Full-of-Himself?”
“Maybe. It would be interesting to see Bryce with a shiner like this guy’s got.” A smile erupted on Morgan’s face.
Ashley leaned forward, shot a hasty glance through the kitchen door that led to the living room, and whispered loudly, “I bet he looks pretty good under that swollen face and grime.” She giggled, then sat up straighter.
Diamond in the Dust (Second Chances Time Travel Romance Book 3) Page 2
