Silver Thaw

by Catherine Anderson

  “Why not?”

  “I detest the stuff. Who wants to eat something that once had a gooey, bloody baby under it?”

  Amanda laughed until her sides ached.

  * * *

  School resumed on Monday, but the decision had already been made that Amanda and Chloe should remain at home. Amanda hated missing work, but the small amount she made in wages wasn’t worth taking any unnecessary chances. She called Mystic Creek Elementary, asked to be put through to the cafeteria, and, after Delores answered, requested a leave of absence.

  “Not having you here will put me in a pinch,” the head cook said, “but take all the time you need, Amanda. Nobody in town is sure what that monster did to you, but you and that child need to stay away from here until he’s caught. I’ll get a temp in to cover for you until this is over.”

  Amanda paced inside Jeb’s office, squeezing the portable phone so hard that her knuckles ached. “I really appreciate this, Delores. I’ll keep in touch. If you get in a bind, I’ll show up no matter what. I promise.”

  “No, don’t call here again. There’s caller ID on the phone lines. I don’t want every staff member in this building to know where you’re hiding out.”

  It hadn’t occurred to Amanda that her call to the school would show under Jeb’s name. Whoever had answered the phone and spoken to Amanda now knew where she and Chloe were. She’d just compromised their safety.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jeb sat at the kitchen table drawing pictures with Chloe. The little girl’s cheek was close to his, and her breath came between slightly parted, upturned lips. She was enraptured with his efforts, even though Jeb thought his drawing of a horse looked more like a dinosaur. It was humbling when a six-year-old totally eclipsed his artistic endeavors. There was no mistaking what she was drawing. He could almost hear Bozo bark.

  “Yours is really good,” he said, and was rewarded by a smile from beneath Chloe’s glowing eyes. The child had evidently had little praise from men, and she reacted like a flower bud accustoming itself to the warmth of the sun.

  “So is yours,” she said loyally. “But its nose is kind of funny-looking.”

  The nose wasn’t the only funny-looking part. Jeb was frowning in feigned disapproval of his drawing when he heard Amanda’s light step on the slate floor. Glancing up, he took one look at her face and immediately set down his pencil.

  “Excuse me for a minute, princess,” he said to the child. “I need to talk to your mommy in private.”

  Chloe barely glanced up from her drawing, which depicted Bozo and Frosty snuggling together on the floor beside her chair.

  Jeb grasped Amanda’s elbow and led her to the living room. Her arm was rigid and her face was blanched. Once they were safely beyond Chloe’s earshot, he said, “What’s wrong?”

  “I gave away where we’re staying. I didn’t mean to! I’m just not used to all the phones having caller ID.”

  Jeb winced. He wanted to say, “Oh, shit.” Instead he looped an arm around her taut shoulders. “You called the school on my landline,” he guessed aloud.

  “I didn’t think. I should have been smart enough to use your cell.”

  Bending low, Jeb pressed his forehead against hers. Her scent surrounded him, a heady combination of shampoo and woman. He wished he might hold her for hours. “It has nothing to do with how smart you are, Mandy. I knew you meant to call in and ask for a leave of absence, but I never considered the damned caller ID thing, either. As for using my cell phone, same thing. My number and possibly my name would have shown up on the school’s line.”

  She went limp against him. “Delores said not to call there again until I’m sure it’s safe. Someone else had to put me through to her, and whoever it was might blab.”

  “Did you give your name to the other person?”

  “I think I just asked to be put through to the cafeteria.”

  Jeb tightened his arms around her. “There’s no reason to panic, then. To whoever first answered the call, you were just a female voice on the line, and I know Delores will keep your whereabouts secret.”

  “How will we get Chloe’s homework?” she asked. “If you go in to get it, everyone will know where she’s staying.”

  Thinking fast, Jeb said, “First off, I’m calling Ben to come over and stay with you. Then I’m going into town to get you a cell phone, which I won’t put under your name or mine. Second, I’m stopping by the sheriff’s department. Barney can have another deputy pick up Chloe’s work from the school. Then Barney can get it from him and drop it off here.”

  “But then the other deputy will make the connection and guess where we are!”

  “The deputies already know where you are,” Jeb replied. “And trust me, they’ll tell no one. They’re used to dealing with creeps, and they know about the charges you filed against Mark.”

  No sooner had he spoken than Jeb wished he could call back his last words. Having all her dirty laundry aired in public had to be humiliating for Amanda. She probably wondered how she would ever be able to hold her head high in this town again.

  She withdrew from his embrace and straightened her spine. “That’s good. After seeing those charges, they’ll do everything within their power to protect my daughter.”

  There it was again, her tendency to put Chloe first. To hell with her own feelings. “You’re really something—you know that? Chloe is lucky to have you as her mother.”

  “She wasn’t always lucky, but now, yes, she’s finally gotten halfway lucky.”

  As Jeb watched her walk back toward the kitchen, he wondered how long it would take before she stopped blaming herself for things that had been beyond her control. He wished he knew how to wash away her bad memories. But that wasn’t possible and never would be.

  * * *

  “This phone is a nightmare,” Amanda complained after getting Chloe into bed that night. She touched the screen and rolled her eyes. “Where on earth did you come up with the name Onrietta Parker? Is Onrietta even a name?”

  Jeb, sitting beside her at the table to show her how to operate the Apple device, felt unsettled by the question. Though Ben had come to stay with Amanda and Chloe while he was in town, Jeb had still been worried and distracted when he reached the Verizon store. “I pulled the name out of my hat as they set up the phone. I, um . . .” He tugged on his ear. “Don’t get mad. Okay? I had to come up with something fast, so I named you after a chicken.”

  “A what?” She gave him a startled look.

  “A chicken,” he repeated. “I’ve been naming my hens for Chloe, and that one stuck in my brain. Actually, the chicken is named Ornrietta because she pecks the other hens, but I left out the ornery part.”

  Jeb saw her lips twitch. “Well, I guess I can be thankful you left that bit out.” She gave him a quizzical look. “A chicken? It suits me, I guess. I’m the biggest chicken you’ll ever meet.”

  “I never meant—”

  “I know you didn’t. I’m joking. Want to hear me cluck?”

  He grinned. He enjoyed seeing her spunky side. “I think you’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever known,” he told her, “and I’m not joking.”

  As if he hadn’t spoken, she resumed her study of the device. Jeb guessed she disliked receiving compliments almost as much as she did accepting help.

  “And Parker? What hat did you pull that from?”

  “It’s my mother’s maiden name.”

  Amanda nodded. Then she gave Jeb a sideways look, the twinkle in her eyes telling him he was off the hook. “I don’t suppose the name matters. The important thing is that the phone can’t be traced back to me.”

  “If the name bothers you, I can go online and change it.”

  She shook her head. “No. In retrospect I just wish you’d left the ornery part in. I could use a good dose of it, I think.”

  Jeb agreed. He
’d often wished that she’d had a baseball bat handy when Mark Banning came after her with his fists and boots.

  “Does it cost a lot to make phone calls under your plan?”

  He detected a hopeful note in her voice and suspected that she wanted to call her mother. “I pay a monthly fee for unlimited calling and texting. You can use your new phone as often and for as long as you like. It won’t add to my bill.”

  That was the truth. Jeb had signed up for a family plan that morning, purchased the device for a hefty chunk of change, and from now on, the additional phone service would cost him more money each month. But her usage wouldn’t add to the tab. Now I’m lying by omission. He wouldn’t allow himself to feel bad about that. She’d needed a cell under a different identity, and he’d gotten her one.

  “How much do these things cost?” she asked. “I need to pay you back.”

  “I was due for an upgrade.” Another lie of omission. He had been due for an upgrade, but he hadn’t used it to get the phone.

  She searched his gaze. “Even so, I need to offset the cost.”

  “Are you going to be impossibly stubborn about this?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  Jeb burst out laughing. “Am I supposed to act surprised?”

  * * *

  After the iPhone lesson, Jeb handed Amanda the revolver that he’d recently started hiding atop the kitchen cabinet. The piece looked gigantic in her slender hands. He expected her to act as if it were a bomb about to detonate, but instead she grasped the handle with a firm grip. Keeping the barrel directed downward at the outside wall, she sighted in on an imaginary target. Jeb noted her stance and how she held the butt.

  “You’ve been around weapons?” he asked

  “All kinds.” She disengaged the cylinder and twirled it with a fingertip to make certain it was fully loaded. “My dad was a hunter and had a huge collection of guns. When I was in my teens, we had gun-cleaning night once a week. We took a weapon apart, cleaned it, and reassembled it, timing each other. I could do this one in five minutes flat. Well, it might take me a bit longer now. It’s been a while since I practiced.”

  “Are you a decent shot?”

  Jeb saw the proud lift of her chin and guessed her answer. “Way better than decent.”

  * * *

  Now that Jeb had learned Amanda knew how to handle firearms, he apparently felt better about leaving her and Chloe alone in the house for a few minutes, because he began measuring the downstairs windows. He explained as he took notes on his phone that he intended to go out to his shop to cut some lengths of square trim.

  “Call me paranoid,” he said over his shoulder, “but as safe as I believe we are with this high-tech security system, I see no harm in taking some old-fashioned precautions. Wood in the window slides stops the panes from opening. In order to get in, you’d have to shatter the glass, and the sound would set off the glass-breakage detectors.”

  Amanda couldn’t help but admire his physique as he bent and shifted to study the measuring tape time and again. He worked with a fluid economy of movement for so large a man. His wash-worn flannel work shirt clung to his skin, revealing a play of muscle in his back, shoulders, and arms every time he changed position. Watching him gave her a strange, tingling sensation low in her stomach. She’d once been attracted to Mark, but never with the intensity that she now felt toward Jeb. Even his scent, distinctly masculine, filled her with yearning.

  “I appreciate your taking such good care of us.”

  He flashed the dazzling grin that always warmed her. “For my ladies, I cover all the bases.”

  His ladies? Amanda felt as if she were standing on a rickety raft in the middle of a lake with boards breaking away beneath her feet. She remembered Jeb saying that life was a dance. But for her, moving with the rhythm presented a challenge that she wasn’t certain she could take on. She’d fallen into the metaphorical lake all too often.

  He donned his jacket and then stepped over to the kitchen security panel near the back door. “I’ll be gone only a few minutes, but just to be safe, reset the alarm after I go out. Okay?”

  Keeping the system on all the time had already become a habit. “No worries. I’ll watch the monitor. When you get back, I’ll let you in.”

  He bent to kiss her just below her ear. Until now, Amanda hadn’t realized how sensitive that spot was, or how the tickle of his breath against the side of her neck would tantalize her. “When I get back, will you help me dream up some passcodes for my computer and network? I put in some temporary ones, but they aren’t as strong as Gowdy thinks we need. He wants letters, numbers, and symbols. I haven’t had time to sit down and do it.”

  Trying to collect her composure, she said, “Sure. We’ll think of some humdingers.”

  Amanda locked the door after he exited onto the back porch. Then she returned to the panel to reset the system. But when she selected Stay, the screen flashed Fault!

  She frowned, wondering what that meant. Toward the bottom of the menu, she saw a choice that read, View Faults. When she pressed the button, an alert popped up, saying that the front door was open. What the heck? She knew good and well that it was closed and locked. She turned to check that zone on the monitor, only to see that the kitchen screen had gone blank.

  A jolt of fear shot up her spine. For an instant, she stood frozen in place. Then she ran toward the door to call Jeb back. No, no, no. The gun. She needed to get the gun! She changed directions so fast that she nearly tripped over her own feet. Once at the cabinet, she went up onto her tiptoes to grab the Magnum.

  “Well, well, well,” a familiar male voice said from behind her. “Nice digs, sweetheart.”

  Amanda whirled, gripping the butt of the .357 with both hands. Mark stood at the opposite side of the kitchen table. He wore faded jeans and a red T-shirt topped by a black jacket. His stance was relaxed, his expression smug, and his lips were curved into the smile she’d learned to dread. It made him look almost angelic, and he always sported it right before he did something evil. How many times had she seen him flash it at Chloe right before he slugged or kicked her?

  Compared to Jeb, Mark looked insubstantial, but Amanda had felt the strength behind his fists too many times to be fooled. His cheeks were flushed as if he’d been running, and his dark hair was a tousled mess. It was his eyes that made her blood run cold. The blue irises glinted like glass in harsh sunlight, but you saw no emotion when you delved deep. It was like locking gazes with a lizard.

  “Your cowboy finally dropped his guard. I knew he would sooner or later. And I’ve been waiting. I’m a very patient man.”

  His smile deepened. This was Mark at his most treacherous—clever, self-assured, and certain he was invincible. The air between them felt oily, filming her nostrils each time she breathed. If malignance had a smell, this man exuded it from every pore. She could almost feel his brutal fingers closing over her throat, squeezing until her lungs burned for oxygen and her vision went black.

  Shoving away the images and gathering her courage, she cocked the weapon and sighted in on his forehead. “Get out of this house, Mark, or I’ll bury a bullet right between your eyes.” The calm resolve in her voice surprised even her. “Now. If you think I don’t have the guts, you’re dead wrong. Your reign of terror is over.”

  Still smiling, Mark brought up his right hand. In it, he held the revolver that he’d often pressed to her temple for nasty games of Russian roulette. “It appears we have a standoff. Play it smart, Amanda. Come with me without a fight, and I’ll leave Chloe alone. It’ll be just you and me, and we’ll settle this.”

  Amanda knew better than to fall for that. Mark would kill her, making it look like an accident, and then he’d get sole custody of their daughter. “Not on your life.”

  “Don’t be stupid. Your only hope is to shoot firs—”

  From out of nowhere, Bozo appeared, his massive,
mottled brown body going airborne. Mark had no time to react. In a fraction of a second, the dog collided so hard with the man that he went flying. Amanda lurched forward, terrified that Mark might shoot the mastiff, and true to form, he tried, even sprawled on his back and anchored by the animal’s weight. He swung the gun up, trying to level it at Bozo’s head.

  “No!” Amanda screamed. She aimed the .357, but she couldn’t get a clear shot. Bozo was in the way. “No!” she cried again.

  The mastiff lunged and sank his fangs into Mark’s wrist. Knocked off target, the gun barrel was now pointed at a wall, then at the ceiling. Mark emitted a ragged scream. The weapon went off, the report so loud that the repercussion pounded against Amanda’s eardrums. At the sound, Bozo’s fury increased, visibly vibrating through his huge body. He shook Mark’s arm. The pistol flew from his grasp and landed about three feet away.

  Bozo released Mark’s wrist and clamped his jaws over his throat. The snarls that rumbled from the animal’s massive chest bore no resemblance to his conversational growls, but they conveyed his meaning with absolute clarity. If Mark tried to move, Bozo would kill him.

  “Lie still!” Amanda cried as she ran toward the security panel. “If you even twitch, he’ll rip your throat out.”

  The instant Amanda pressed the panic button, the siren went off, the shrill sound bouncing off the walls. To her horror, she saw Chloe hurtling down the staircase. Before the child reached the kitchen, Amanda yelled, “Go to Mr. Jeb’s bedroom, Chloe. Remember the hiding place I showed you? Go!”

  Chloe wheeled, tripped, and sprawled on the floor. But she scrambled back to her feet in short order and bolted for the bedroom. Amanda stepped around the table to keep her weapon trained on her husband.

  Mark moaned. The sound incited the dog to bite down harder.