In The Arms of a Stranger

by Kristen Robinette

  “You’re right.” Lieutenant Allen craned his neck, and it was obvious he wanted to oversee the progress.

  She held out her arms for the baby. “Give him to me. You might be needed outside.”

  “Thanks.” Ben looked relieved and brought her his little charge, along with the bottle. “We’re clearing as far north as Ashton’s Gap, and I need to accompany the crews. I promised the chief I’d check on his grandfather.”

  Dana settled the baby into her arms, amazed as always at the feeling of completeness when she held him. She tipped the bottle in his direction, making eye contact as she offered him the formula. He grinned one gummy-grin and latched on to the bottle like a hungry pup.

  “How’d you do that?” Ben gaped.

  “I honestly don’t know.” She smiled at the young lieutenant. Maybe things were turning around for her. Maybe she could do this, be Daniel’s mother. She pressed her lips together and amended the thought.

  For now. Maybe she could get this right for now.

  Dana recognized that she’d gained a sort of insider clearance with Lieutenant Allen and decided to test it with a little prodding. “You said that you were going to check on Luke’s grandfather?”

  “Yeah,” Allen responded without hesitation. “Luke and his grandfather are close, cut from the same cloth.”

  She never took her eyes from the baby. “Is this his paternal grandfather?” she asked, hoping the question sounded nonchalant.

  “No way.” He paused, obviously weighing the wisdom of continuing the conversation. “We’re talking about his maternal grandfather. Luke’s mother died a long while back.” He frowned. “Did he tell you that?”

  She smiled, nodding. “Yes, he did. It’s a shame he wasn’t closer to his stepmother.” She looked at the baby. “Every child deserves a mother figure in their lives.”

  “True. But not everybody is a natural-born parent. Some ought not even try.”

  Dana thought of the baby’s mother, of the nauseating smell of liquor and death at the accident scene. She nuzzled the side of Daniel’s neck, replacing the disturbing memory with the sweet smell of baby powder and warm skin. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  “Well, Miss Camille is one of the ones who shouldn’t bother,” Ben added.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  Ben Allen scratched his head. “Sometimes you gotta know where someone’s been to understand why they’re the way they are. Like a lot of folks around here, she started out with nothing. Sometimes that makes a person hold on to what they’ve got a little too tight. You know?”

  No doubt Lieutenant Allen meant material possessions, but… Dana looked at Daniel. Was that what she was doing? Holding on too tight, so tight that someone might get hurt? Her thoughts flashed back to Michael. Is that what she’d done to him—held on at all costs?

  Ben looked uncomfortable with the pause in conversation, shifting from foot to foot. Even Sam hopped up and left the room as if he wanted no part in the conversation. “So did the chief talk much about his father and stepmother while y’all were stuck up here?”

  She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, hoping Ben wouldn’t notice. There was no need to stretch the truth. Luke’s comments had been cryptic but well to the point. “Yes, he did.” Dana shrugged and hoped the gesture looked lighthearted. “No television.”

  “The chief’s a good man,” Allen said with determination, as if he were arguing the point with an invisible adversary. “He’d do just about anything for anyone in this town.”

  “He’s not the only one that made a rescue.” She smiled. “Thank you for all you’ve done for us.”

  “You’re welcome.” Ben Allen blushed. “Listen, I gotta get the crews headed up the mountain. I hope I’ll see you again, say a proper goodbye before you leave town.”

  “I hope so, too.”

  “Chief, I didn’t hear you come in—” Ben’s voice echoed through the cabin.

  She turned to find Luke standing in the doorway, Sam by his side. Dana was surprised that neither she nor Lieutenant Allen had heard him enter the cabin. But the normally quiet room had been filled with conversation. Guilt washed over her. Conversation about him.

  “Hey…” She stood, carrying Daniel, and closed the gap between them. One look into his eyes, and reality beat down on her like a cold, hard rain. Something was wrong. “Did you make it to the accident site?”

  He nodded, casting his eyes downward away from hers. “We can’t move the vehicle or the body yet, but I’ve asked for backup. We’ll settle things soon.”

  Settle things? Luke’s choice of words struck her as odd. She held the baby a little tighter, and both their gazes fell on Daniel. “I’m so glad he’s too young to understand.”

  Something in Luke’s eyes grew hard. “Me, too.”

  Dana frowned, sensing there was more that he wasn’t telling her. But now wasn’t the time to prod. She’d done enough of that for one day. Besides, Luke would tell her what she needed to know when the time was right, she assured herself. Maybe when they were alone. But the vague feeling that something was wrong lingered.

  “Lieutenant Allen, I need you to take Miss Langston to town.”

  Miss Langston? The words sounded ridiculous on Luke’s lips.

  He dug a key from his jacket pocket and passed it to Ben. “She and the baby can stay at my place until we can make other arrangements. I’ll take Sam with me.”

  “Yes, sir.” Ben all but saluted. They’d been caught gossiping like two spiders in a web. No doubt Lieutenant Allen would spend more time than she would making up for the transgression.

  Luke’s expression softened, and he reached out to rub the top of Daniel’s head, ruffling the dark fuzz. The baby responded with a grin, punching the air with his fist in an attempt to reach Luke.

  He straightened, the official demeanor back as quickly as it had disappeared. “Stay with them, Lieutenant,” he ordered, his steely gaze boring into Ben’s. “I’m going with the crews to retrieve my Jeep.” He looked at his watch. “I shouldn’t be more than thirty minutes behind you. You’re not to leave until I get back. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Will the crews tow my car in also?” Dana asked.

  Luke averted his eyes. “That may take a little longer.”

  She frowned, puzzled. “I’d like to at least get my things from it—my luggage, my purse…”

  “We’ll get to it. As I said, though, it may take some time.”

  Dana nodded, a niggling anger rising to tighten her shoulders. She understood he was acting in official capacity, but the last few days had been difficult. And personal, where Luke was concerned. She wanted her own clothes, makeup, and craved a shower.

  And a little tenderness on Luke’s part wouldn’t hurt, either.

  “Let me give you my car keys,” she said. Dana walked to the table where the diaper bag lay and fished them out, returning to where Luke stood. She cocked her head, trying to determine the odd set of his features. “Take these in case you have an opportunity.”

  He accepted the keys, fisting them in his palm. “All right, then,” Luke commented. “I’ll meet you at the house.” He turned and left, Sam by his side.

  Dana felt hollow, disappointed that Luke wasn’t driving her to town. He wanted her at his place “until other arrangements could be made,” and the invitation had been anything but personal. She reminded herself that he was on duty, but inside she felt as if someone had doused her with cold water.

  She stood in the middle of the room, clinging to Daniel like a life raft.

  “I’ll gather your things for you,” Ben Allen offered. “If you’ll tell me what all you’ll be taking with you.”

  “Let’s see…” She glanced around her, relieved to have the distraction. “All the baby’s supplies.” Dana gestured toward the kitchen counter, which was littered with formula and bottles. “You can put them in the diaper bag. Oh—and if you’ll hit the eject button on that tape player
,” she gestured in the direction of the dilapidated equipment, “there’s a cassette inside. I’ll take that, too.”

  He frowned. “That’s a cassette player?”

  “From the Jurassic era, yes.”

  Ben knelt and retrieved the tape, turning it over in his hands. “Lullabies?”

  “We found it in the diaper bag. It came in more handy than you can imagine.”

  Ben grinned. “I understand. I have six nieces and nephews.” He dropped the cassette in the diaper bag and loaded it down with the other supplies. He glanced around them. “Anything else?”

  Dana looked around her. There were empty cans of fruit and vegetables still sitting atop the kitchen counter, along with a few unopened ones. It was amazing that the few canned goods and the contents of the diaper bag had been the focus of their very existence. Now that the roads were cleared, the world had opened back up. A tinge of sadness hit her.

  It had opened up and closed down at the same time.

  So where had all her optimism for the future gone? She bit back tears. It probably lay in the same ditch as Luke’s affection, a casualty of the real world.

  “I’ll just grab my clothes from the bedroom.” Dana turned her back on Ben before he could see the flash of emotion on her face. She found her shirt and jeans draped over the foot of the bed and folded them over her free arm. She was ready to go. Just like that, she was leaving three of the most important days of her life behind.

  Dana clutched Daniel as she stepped outside, a bit disoriented by the sun and the sudden freedom. Slushy snow and ice gave way beneath her feet as she picked her way carefully to the police cruiser. She slid the car seat into the back of Lieutenant Allen’s vehicle and eased the baby inside, adjusting the straps snugly over his chest. She buckled herself in next to him and glanced back at the cabin. It looked like an old friend, and Dana forced herself to look at the road ahead of them—the road that would take them to Luke’s home.

  The drive was short, and Ben cheerfully filled the time with conversation about Sweetwater. Dana was amazed that the rugged, remote mountains seemed to run right up to the city limits, giving way to the small metropolis that was Luke’s very existence.

  Sweetwater really was the center of his world, his focus. The thought struck her as at once understandable and profoundly sad.

  Though the roads in downtown Sweetwater had been cleared of ice and snow, the town was devoid of activity. Shops were closed and the parking spaces that lined the business district were empty. The effect was the same as an empty shopping mall or school. The energy lingered but the life was missing. Dana shivered, suddenly feeling an old familiar trickle of fear work its way down her spine.

  Silly, she admonished. She and Daniel were safe, weren’t they?

  “Luke said that Paul Gonzalez is in custody.” She watched Ben Allen’s profile for reaction. There was none. “He’s in jail, right?”

  “He was taken into custody but I’m not certain what the status is. He definitely violated the terms of his bond but what happens next depends on the judge. And how convincing Gonzalez is with excuses.”

  Dana forced down a wave of fear. She knew firsthand how convincing Gonzalez could be.

  Ben took a side street and turned again onto a two-lane road. The county road wound around the base of a mountain that looked like the backdrop for a Christmas card. The branches of the trees glistened silver-brown in the midday sun, while snow still clung to the forest floor in a breathtaking pattern. Was it her overactive imagination or could she actually sense Luke’s presence, his connection to this town?

  “We’re near Luke’s place,” Ben said up as if she’d spoken her thoughts aloud. “It shouldn’t be more than five minutes or so.”

  The remainder of the trip passed in silence, but Dana knew the minute they rounded a curve and faced a pristine log cabin that they had arrived. Two paint horses grazed in the pasture that flanked the house, busily nudging aside the snow to find the fine blades of budding spring grass beneath. A huge oak tree staked its claim to the yard surrounding the cabin, as if its presence held back the imposing tree line of the mountain that loomed behind it. Dana was entranced by the beauty, the permanence of the place.

  “We’re here,” Ben announced.

  Dana swallowed hard. “It’s beautiful.”

  What was wrong with her? It was as if this ill-fated trip had boiled down the emotions she’d experienced over the past year, distilling them until they were explosive. But why did the sight of Luke’s home make her want to cry? She realized then that she’d come to think of Luke as a temporary fixture, without the capacity to put down roots. But just the opposite was true. His roots, however tragic, ran so deep that he’d never be able to disentangle himself.

  They pulled to a stop in a circular driveway, and Dana imagined that Sam normally greeted visitors at the drive. She smiled, looking forward to seeing her canine buddy again. She unbuckled the baby, and Ben assisted them out of the back seat. The air was amazingly warm, and she actually felt the tingle of sunshine on her face as she looked around. It was humbling that nature could operate in such extremes, altering lives and futures at whim.

  “Miss Langston?”

  She shook off her wandering thoughts and followed the lieutenant up a brick walkway to the entrance. She reminded herself to breathe as he unlocked the door and gestured for her to enter.

  The first thing that hit her was the heady scent of cedar, and an elusive, lingering aroma that was Luke’s. Memories of their lovemaking assaulted her. The warm, male scent of Luke had surrounded her as he’d entered her body, as his chest had raked against hers and his mouth found the arch of her neck. Dana flushed at the memory, then straightened abruptly, aware that Lieutenant Allen was watching her with an expression of concern.

  “I never expected a bachelor’s home to be so neat,” she said, covering her emotion with cheerful chatter.

  It was neat, she realized. There was little in the way of decorative touches, but the log home was large and classically beautiful, a vaulted great room dominating the center of the architecture. Dana looked around her, absorbing every detail as though it would help to unravel the mystery of the man. A heavy pine sofa and chairs, topped with cinnamon-colored cushions, were arranged around a stacked rock fireplace. Sunlight filtered through an expanse of oversize windows, absorbing the hue of the wood and filling the room with warmth.

  “Why don’t you get your bearings while I check in with the station?”

  “Okay.” She smiled at Ben, then turned her attention to Daniel, holding him out in front of her playfully. “What do you say, little man? Do you want to go for a stroll around the place?”

  Daniel grinned, and Dana studied his cherub’s face in the sunlight that cascaded through the windows. She’d peered at his chubby cheeks and bright eyes more often than she could count over the past few days, and his face had become familiar to her. Yet somehow he seemed different today, his features familiar to her in a way they hadn’t seemed before. She studied him for a moment more, and then shrugged off the thought. It was probably the change of scenery that made everything seem different.

  She settled Daniel against her shoulder and began to stroll absently through the house, feeling a little like an intruder and a lot curious. The kitchen was pretty but sparse, the only focus being an oversize coffeemaker. She noticed that the refrigerator was devoid of the usual bric-a-brac, family photos and memorabilia stuck beneath magnets. Dana felt a stab of pain that was all too familiar to her.

  She left the kitchen and drifted down a long hall that she suspected led to Luke’s bedroom. The first two bedrooms she encountered were obviously spare rooms. One contained a computer and desk, the other held twin beds. She grinned at the idea of a man Luke’s size draped over the small mattress.

  When Dana reached the end of the hall, she knew she’d found Luke’s bedroom. The furniture was larger, just like the man. The king-size bed was a tangle of navy comforter and white sheets, so far the only u
ntidy display. She was grateful for the disarray, to have found some connection with Luke. But a sense of loss pierced her stomach, along with a generous helping of memories. She averted her eyes, her gaze setting on a bedside phone.

  For the first time in days she felt the urge to hear her aunt’s and uncle’s voices. She sat on the edge of the bed and trailed her fingers over the handset. Her aunt would probably faint from maternal overload if Dana called and dumped thirty years worth of angst at her doorstep. Her aunt had a low threshold for all things maternal.

  Dana grinned, then marveled at her own reaction, the acceptance she felt.

  Maybe that was what the three of them needed, she realized. Maybe instead of withholding part of herself because her aunt and uncle didn’t fit the mold she’d cast for them, she should simply be herself, let their relationship be what it would be.

  A small movement caught her eye, and Dana looked up and into a bureau mirror. The image of a man standing behind her.

  “Lieutenant Allen…” She turned toward him, feeling as though she’d been caught snooping.

  “Do you need to call someone?” he asked.

  “No, not really.” Dana gestured toward the phone. “I was considering calling my aunt and uncle in Atlanta but it can wait.”

  “Most of the phone lines are down.” He shrugged. “Hazard number 1001 when you live in the mountains.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” She smiled, wondering why her nerves had yet to settle.

  Ben frowned. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologized. “I was thinking that I could watch the baby for you if you want to rest up. Take a nap, maybe.”

  Dana felt momentary panic at the idea of relinquishing Daniel to someone else’s care. But this was Ben Allen, certainly no one to fear.

  “That actually sounds nice,” she said. Ben stepped toward her. “Um…” She shifted the baby to her free shoulder, hugging him a little tighter. “Daniel seems a little tired, too. Maybe he’ll nap with me.”