by Angela Smith
Winona could understand and even admire that. Her own mother had spent her life trying to protect her and Chayton. Maybe she had grown up in an orphanage. Maybe she had missed the parts of life that most people would consider made her whole. But her mother, once she’d found her, had made it up to her. Winona had experienced enough motherly love to last a lifetime.
If Lillian wanted to protect her daughter, who was she to stop her?
Jake watched her. She saw him out of the corner of her eye but didn’t look at him. She was so close to home. One more hour, and Jake could go his own way. Their time spent together could mean nothing to him for all she cared.
He would go back to his life, and she’d go back to hers.
She continued to drive, outside the city, into the country, into another town, without speaking. She glanced at the gas to make sure it was all good, and continued to drive in silence as they passed a sign that said Tanyon was only another fifteen miles.
“I’m sorry, Winona,” Jake finally said, reaching for her leg. She flinched away, as much as possible considering she was driving. Down the hill, into the first stretches of town, past his bed and breakfast, past Air Dog, past anything that once mattered to her.
She pulled into the condo. Grabbed her bags from the backseat. He opened her door and came to her, but she held up her hand to cut him off and kept walking.
“Go home, Jake. Go back to your life. Follow Lillian. Whatever it is you feel you need to do. I can’t help you anymore.”
Chapter Eighteen
That evening, Winona borrowed Chayton’s Jeep, loaded a bale of hay and her bow and arrow, and drove up the mountain to camp. She felt guilty about leaving Snowbound with Reagan another night, but she needed to do this.
The sun lowered, branching out of the mountain in one last hurrah. She continued to drive over the bumps and crevices of dirt until she found a camp spot far away from town or lights or humanity.
Once she found her spot, she texted Chayton to identify where she was, turned off her phone, and set up camp. Stacking the hay bale, she set up her archery station.
It’d been months since she’d shot her bow and arrow, years since she’d camped overnight alone. In the past, once she concluded a case she’d escape for a night to muse over what happened and assess her next goals. She’d go home the next day with renewed vigor and objectives.
She wasn’t sure that would happen tonight.
Dusk tipped the sky in orange and pink, shadowing her archery station but allowing just enough light for Winona to see her target. She pulled back on her bow and held it as she eyed her mark. Her muscles quivered as she gauged the distance. The wind rustled through the trees. Releasing the arrow, it zipped through the air and thunked into the bale of hay.
Bull’s-eye.
Her whole life had been a bull’s-eye to her accomplishments. She’d hit one and move to the next, barely giving herself time to think. Too much thinking resulted in disenchantment. She’d made it her life mission to find her brother, hoping to find a part of herself. As much as she loved Chayton and his family, she hadn’t found that missing part of herself until she’d met Jake.
She was in love with him.
She pulled back another arrow and let it zing through the air, figuring she should probably at least talk to him and see how he was holding up. He’d no doubt head home or even back to Amy tomorrow, if he didn’t tonight. His truck had been parked at the bed and breakfast when she’d driven by earlier, but that didn’t mean he planned to stay. He probably planned to pack and leave.
She should apologize to him. Maybe what he said was wrong, but she hadn’t helped the situation. Maybe he’d been right about not understanding, and maybe he hadn’t meant any of it. She understood. He lashed out his fears and vulnerabilities, attaching them to another person. Maybe even a person he cared about. She’d do the same thing—had done the same thing in the worst of moments.
She had been an orphanage at Amy’s age, but she’d learned a lot from it and had grown up better from her experience. Finally adopted at thirteen, she only discovered a few months later that Tamra was her real mother. By then, she had already fallen in love with her mother, and they had become best friends. Her mom had given her and Chayton away to protect them. Chayton had gone to his true father, but Winona’s father had died. Her mom had saved her once, adopted her, and saved her again.
When she’d been looking for Chayton and her mother wouldn’t tell her any clues, she’d said unforgivable things. Then her mom was diagnosed with cancer and Winona hadn’t wanted to hurt her with the truth that she was searching for a brother who didn’t want to be found. She’d started searching harder once Mom had been diagnosed, and though they had repaired any wounds words might have injured, guilt would always consume her.
Winona was relieved Mom had met Chayton before her death and that she’d died happy. But Winona hadn’t been able to save her. She hadn’t been able to save Kayla, and she hadn’t been able to save Jake. Amy—she wasn’t sure Amy needed saving, but Jake would never be the same. If Winona hadn’t found Chayton, she’d still be searching.
She lowered her bow, dropped it to the ground, and fell to her knees. Her chest ached and the tears she’d needed to cry since forever burned behind her eyes. Still, she couldn’t cry. It was like a tear reservoir was building, faster and faster, burning her nose and swamping her mind with thoughts she couldn’t muster. She swallowed, gasping.
She had seen Jake cry. Consoled him while he cried. And she was still unable to cry with him. Unable to cry for him.
Growing up, she’d suffered tremendous grief and hadn’t had her mother’s arms to console her. She’d learned to tamp down her tears until she finally had no use for them. By the time she was thirteen and her mother returned she wasn’t familiar with consolation. Her mother had taught her best she could, but Winona had learned early on that consolation wasn’t a necessity.
She longed to cry, but hated to cry because once she started, she might not be able to stop.
The last thing she wanted, needed, was to love Jake. Especially now, when her life was getting back on track. So instead of apologizing, she’d stay here and lick her wounds. It would be easier if she didn’t have to face him again before he left for good.
Twilight crept into the mountains. Fog spread its fingers like poison. She curled atop a blanket on the ground and finally, the tears exploded. She sobbed long and hard as any lingering warmth disappeared with the sun. She shivered with every intention of riding out the tears, and the darkness that the tears brought. She had to. In order to triumph over her demons, she couldn’t tuck tail and run home.
She continued to cry as night shrouded the majesty of the mountains, instead masking them into monsters. The moon emerged. Bright and full and promising. Stars flickered to life, slowly blinking and waking to drown out the gloom. Crickets chirped. A wolf howled in the distance, threatening the moon’s tranquility. She tempered her fear, her ears straining to hear the other sounds close by.
She didn’t fear the dark. The dark wasn’t her demon. It was the darkness of her mind that haunted her. The guilt and fears and insecurities. The inability to feel she deserved happiness.
She’d won and lost cases in her investigator days. She’d helped to solve many and brought families back together. Sure, one child had died out of the many she saved, but one child was too many. And what about the families destroyed because she caught a spouse in a heated affair? Lives ruined because she caught someone cheating an insurance company? Maybe what she’d done was the right thing, but it didn’t give her hope for a bright future. Not after experiencing other people’s despair.
As a child growing up in an orphanage, she often found shadowy spots to huddle and hide. Especially when visitors or new children came. She didn’t want to be adopted or fostered into a home because then her real parents wouldn’t be able to find her. She had her share of friends, but she could never relate to any of them. Her skin color was a little different
. Her hair a shade off from everyone else’s. The orphanage was full of children of different color and backgrounds, but she was part Native American trying to hide in a commercialized world. Her mom had made sure to avoid any Native American orphanages for fear her husband would find Winona.
Winona hadn’t understood what made her different until she met her mother and they’d moved to the reservation. Her mom tried to give her a normal life, but she’d always looked over her shoulder in fear her husband would find her and her child. He never did. Winona learned he’d never tried.
She’d grown up feeling uncertain of who and what she was, and though she’d acknowledged that part of her life, she feared she’d always wonder.
She’d finally learned to accept herself, for the most part. She hadn’t grown bitter, but she’d never loved. Never given her heart to anyone.
Until Jake.
Her sobbing quieted and she sat upright. She wrapped her arms around her knees and drew them in to her chest, huddling under the moon. Wisps of clouds curled through the air, but not enough to drown out the stars. Her tears slowed until they were gummy on her cheeks. She wiped them away, sniffled, and watched the stars, blinking and twinkling and reminding her she was a part of something huge. Even if all she did the rest of eternity was help Chayton with Air Dog or help Marybeth with her new plans for the animal shelter after Jake’s donation, she wanted what she did to matter.
Winona stiffened as she heard a car engine. Distant lights approached, wedging and bouncing through the trees. Her pulse tightened as she grabbed her shotgun and stood. In this darkness, anything could happen. A crazed lunatic could find her, rape her, kill her. Throw her over the mountain where her body wouldn’t be found for years.
They’d have a fight on their hands.
She moved to the Jeep, huddling as she waited to see if the truck would stop or slow near her camp. Her .380 was tucked into her jeans if the shotgun didn’t scare anyone away, but she’d rather not risk a confrontation.
When she recognized Jake’s truck, she relaxed her grip and lowered the shotgun. Her pulse accelerated, the beat drowning out other night noises.
He opened the door, but left the truck running. “Winona?”
“Yes.” She wasn’t sure whether to be scared or relieved.
He cut the engine and closed the door. His footsteps crunched the leaves as he approached. All she saw was his shadow.
“Chayton told me I could find you here. You didn’t answer your phone.”
“I shut it off.” She returned to the blanket, trying to appear graceful as she fought the need to collapse. She felt weakened by tears and grief and anger and stress and the need for him to want her as much as she wanted him.
He sat beside her.
She’d wanted to be alone. She wanted to contemplate her life and face her fears and discover an epiphany.
None of that would happen, because she’d already had her epiphany. She was in love with Jake. She’d never loved another like she loved Jake, and she wasn’t going to do anything about it but let him leave. Maybe she’d regret it later, but she had to be realistic about their situation. They came from different worlds, and they both had a life to return to. Him more than her, considering she’d picked up her entire life to move here. But she wasn’t ready to pick it up and leave again, even if he did ask.
But she would. She would pick it up and leave, and that was one thing that kept her silent.
They sat in silence for a long time, listening to the night drones. He didn’t touch her, didn’t look at her.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said, the softness of his words slipping into night’s womb.
She might let him leave, but she wouldn’t hold grudges or make him feel bad. Turning her face to his, she palmed his cheek and lifted a finger to skate across his brow bone. “Don’t worry about it.”
“What I said was wrong.” His gaze, highlighted by the moon and the night sky, dipped to her mouth and returned to her eyes. “I was so angry. So afraid. And I lashed out at you when it’s not your fault. I never meant to hurt you.”
“I understand. It’s okay.”
He leaned forward and kissed her. Soft and hesitant turned to passion and hunger as he urged her backward, to lie on the blanket.
This time he made love to her like he needed her, like he never wanted to let her go. And he didn’t, all night long.
• • •
Twilight woke them. They huddled under a blanket, overcoming the chilly morning in each other’s arms. They made inconsequential talk, avoiding serious subjects.
Bruised clouds clogged the sky, hanging low. She had a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view and could tell it was raining around them. Winona knew they’d have to get off the mountain soon if they didn’t want to get caught in the rain the mountains desperately needed.
She rose to retrieve iced coffee from her pack and a breakfast bar, and decided to check her phone for news and messages.
A few dozen text messages awaited her. And just as many voice mails. Surely Jake hadn’t sent all this. Thumbing through them, she found only one from Jake. The rest were from Garret. Sounding desperate.
“Shit,” she said, wondering what called for the emergency. They all knew she had gone to the mountains. Was the weather worse than she thought?
She dialed his number, but it didn’t have enough bars to go through. She sent him a text and within minutes, her phone beeped with a reply. Get to my house now.
Be there soon, she texted in response. Everything okay?
“What’s the matter?” Jake asked as he rose and wrapped himself in a blanket.
“Not sure. But we’d better get dressed and get to Garret’s.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. He texted to get to his house immediately.”
Winona feared Jake would fall apart in front of her. His whole body slumped. His face turned ashen, his brows knotted in fear. “Is it Amy?”
“He never said that. He’s probably just worried about the rain or something.”
Her phone buzzed again, asking if Jake was with her. She replied as she and Jake packed up the site.
Jake opened the door of his truck, starting it. “Get in. We’ll take my truck.”
“I can’t leave Chayton’s Jeep here. He’d kill me. Besides,” she continued, “You’re in no condition to drive.”
His scoff turned hateful. “This again? You don’t think I can handle myself and my truck?” He revved the engine. “Then I guess you’d better keep up.”
• • •
Rain poured as they made it off the mountain, and it looked like it had rained in town all night and the rain hadn’t reached the mountains. The roads were wet and slick. In his rush, Jake hydroplaned and had to keep it slow so as not to wreck. Winona was seconds behind when he pulled into Garret’s driveway.
Jake cut the engine but remained sitting, staring. The house loomed, its doors and windows like the teeth of death, waiting to shut him in. Whatever happened between those walls, whatever news Garret had to share, might change his life forever. Jake expected the worst.
The rain was now only a drizzle. Garret stormed out of the house and waited under the porch canopy for Jake to get out of the truck. His expression sent shivers of fear to Jake’s bones. Something was wrong. Something had to be wrong. If something had happened to Amy, he would throttle Lillian.
He knew he should have turned back yesterday. He didn’t blame Winona. She did what she thought was right, and it had been right. If he’d turned back, he and Lillian would only have argued until something terrible happened. Jake didn’t have rights. The police could escort him away and lock him behind bars where he’d never be able to help Amy.
He stepped out the door, humidity pasting his skin with sweat. He lumbered to the porch, Winona on his heels.
“I’ve been looking for you both all night,” Garret said.
“You knew where I was. Jake managed to find me.”
“Jake might have
known where to find you, but I damn sure didn’t. And Chayton took Naomi out of town for date night and wouldn’t answer his phone either.”
“What is it?” Jake asked, his shoulders hunching, his mind preparing for the worst.
“Get inside, out of the rain.” Garret’s voice anchored Jake’s heart in a landfill of angst.
Claws of death dragged him inside the house, the only way he could have made it inside without stumbling. They all stepped through the door, and Garret locked it behind them.
Turning from the door, Garret steeled his gaze on Jake and didn’t waste any time. “It’s Lillian. She’s claiming Jake never brought Amy home.”
“What?” Unbelievable. Unexpected. “How—”
“Amy is missing again. Lillian claims you kidnapped her.”
White heat flashed behind his eyes. His internal body temperature dropped while his skin boiled in indignation. His mind raced with what this meant.
“Cops came here to question me. They’re looking for you. I’ve put a call into my friends and am waiting to hear from them. If we don’t do something soon, you’ll be put behind bars. At least until they can’t hold you anymore.”
“They can’t possibly believe her,” Winona defended. “I was with him. I’m a witness.”
“He could still be arrested or at least held for questioning.”
Winona wrung her hands as she paced. “That’s exactly her plan. She wants Jake out of the picture so he can’t do anything to find Amy.”
“She’s underestimated his friends.”
Reagan approached with coffee and breakfast rolls. Jake passed on the rolls but took a cup of coffee. One drink made his mouth taste like sweaty sneakers, waxing his stomach in slime. He set the cup on a table and didn’t touch it again.
“I’ve been up all night on the phone with some of my contacts with the FBI. I got my former cyber-crimes unit to look into things. We think we found something in Lillian’s email. She sent a message to someone that said she’s ready, and then another email where she wasn’t the sender or receiver, but she did receive a copy. We’re still trying to trace the email address.”
