Chapter Nine
Levi
“Tell me everything that happened,” I say, pushing the accelerator as hard as I dare while keeping a sharp eye out for the highway patrol. “Are you sure you never saw that guy before today?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Tell me what he said to you, exactly.”
Dallas exhales in a tired sigh. It’s been a long, tough day for her, and I just want her to feel rested and safe. So far, I haven’t been helping much, but that will change as soon as I get her and Mason safely to my cabin. The baby mewls a little as Dallas changes position to sit upright. “At the farmer’s market, before you got there, he said something like ‘Oh, isn’t he cute.’ Just small talk. I don’t remember his exact words, until he called me ‘pretty mama.’ It gave me the creeps; I thought he was hitting on me. I brushed him off, and that’s when he asked if I was a local, that he didn’t mean anything by calling me pretty mama, and could I tell him where to buy tools. Axes, ropes. And bullets.”
“Right. Then what?”
“I told him to try the Outfitters, like I said. Then he left.”
“But he didn’t leave. He hung around, watching you from a distance,” I say.
“Yeah. But maybe he was watching us. Or you…” Dallas suggests.
The thought sparks a burn in my belly, because I’m thinking along the same lines. But there was nothing to connect me with Dallas before I turned up to meet her. “What happened after you left me at the park?” I prompt.
“I was running late for our appointment, so I crossed back through the market. He must have seen me then and followed us from there.”
“And you said he was waiting for you outside the doctor’s?”
“I was getting ready to put Mason in the car seat, when he came up from behind. He said, ‘going somewhere, pretty mama?’ Then, ‘you and junior are gonna take a little ride with me,’ and something like, ‘he’s precious cargo.’”
“He was after the baby,” I say, thinking out loud.
“Why? For ransom? My family isn’t rich; they’re not celebrities or wealthy business owners like yours was.” She sighs again and clucks her tongue. “Maybe he’s just a pervert with a thing for single mothers.”
An alarm bell goes off in my head. Not rich like yours. Fuck. Is it possible this asshole is linked to the bank robbers? Or is one of them? If they got away, there’s only one reason why they’d still be anywhere near this area. To avenge their dead buddy. Maybe one of them remembered Dallas’s face, just happened to recognize her at the farmer’s market. Pure coincidence. Then saw her and me and Mason together like a happy little family.
It seems impossible they could make that connection, and more unlikely still they would know my background. No one witnessed me popping the guy, and in any case, I look completely different now. But the fact remains they still tried to abduct her. She and Mason are clearly at risk, and the farther away I can get all of us, the better.
“Could be just a crazy stalker,” I reply. “But I don’t think so. There has to be more to it than that. If he tried twice, he might try again. And he might not be alone the next time.”
Long moments of silence make me wonder if they’ve both fallen asleep. They’ve earned it for sure. “How much farther are we going?” Dallas asks suddenly.
“Almost there,” I say, having already turned onto the narrow cut-line dirt road that leads into the hills west of Lake Pleasant. I realize we haven’t eaten in a while. “Are you hungry? I don’t have much up at the cabin, but I’m sure I can fix you something.”
“I could eat just about anything right now. Mason’s okay. He’s asleep. I have food for him, but I…guess I wasn’t thinking about my own stomach in the last few hours.”
“That’s understandable,” I chuckle. Food was the last thing on my mind too, back at the motel. “We did get a little sidetracked.”
“Oh, is that what you call it? Sidetracked?”
“I believe you started it.”
“Hmm…I didn’t hear you protesting.”
I can hear the grin in her voice, a glimmer of the old Dallas, of the way we used to be. Can we ever get back to that with all that’s happened? With all the time that’s passed? I slow my speed as we reach the hidden lane that winds up to the cabin. My truck practically knows its own way home by now. My little abode appears pale and abandoned in the bright beam of my headlights. “Here we are,” I say, pulling into my usual place behind the small structure and cutting the engine.
“Charming,” Dallas says, a definite hint of sarcasm in her voice. “This is where you’ve been living? It looks more like a shed than a cabin.”
“It really looks bigger on the inside.”
She snickers. “You sound like a realtor. ‘For sale, cozy hidden gem.’”
“It’s the hidden part that’s the charm. C’mon. Let’s get you both inside.”
I grab her bags and lead Dallas, with a sleeping Mason in her arms, around to the front porch. My lock system consists of a keyed padlock borrowed from the toolbox in my truck. We step inside, the red glow from my wood stove casting the only light. I know where every item, every stick of furniture, every rug, every spoon and fork is placed, but she does not.
“Let me get the lamp first,” I say. In the dark, I reach for the antique kerosene lamp in the center of the table and light it, revealing the interior of the cabin in its low gleam.
“Holy shit,” Dallas whispers. “It’s like something out of Little House on the Prairie.”
“Yeah, well. I call it home.” I didn’t expect the place to have a wow factor, and it’s only out of necessity, but I feel a sudden twinge of embarrassment at her words. I chalk it up to exhaustion on her part. Funny how you get used to things. I really had grown to love my little shack in the woods, despite its humbleness. “Hardly the Waldorf, I know.”
“Sorry. No insult intended. I guess I expected…oh forget it,” she sighs. “I’m not exactly in a position to demand five-star accommodations.” Her eyes scan the confines of the room. “It’s really no worse than the Hungry Bear.”
“Except the Hungry Bear had plumbing,” I say, reaching out to stroke Mason’s head. “We’ll be safe here, that’s the main thing. There’s nothing more important to me than the two of you, I want you to know that.”
Dallas flashes a small smile. “I know.”
She looks so beautiful, standing there with our baby in her arms, her face aglow in the warm flickering light of the lamp. I wish I had more to offer her than just safety. She and Mason deserve so much more. I think back to when we had our whole future mapped out in front of us. I would take the helm of Strongbow Enterprises. Dallas would be my CFO. We’d travel the world, support humanitarian causes, build a legacy for our children.
The crazy situation we find ourselves in now clearly outlines the epic failure of that plan. But that doesn’t mean it had to be the only plan. We’ve found each other again. Surely that’s a start. “Here. Let me find a place to lay this little guy down, and I’ll get you something to eat.”
I have very little furniture in the place, and certainly nothing resembling a crib.
“Somewhere he can’t roll off,” Dallas adds.
Hmm. The best I can do is slide the old sagging armchair up against one wall, seat first, creating a more or less enclosed space. I look to her for approval.
She chuckles softly. “That’ll work.”
She lays him down on the padded but threadbare seat cushion and tucks his blankets in all around him. He reminds me of a poached egg, his little pink face encircled in a nest of white fabric.
“Maybe I can build him a crib,” I say, turning toward the kitchen. My few forays to town allow me to stock up on some things, but those trips have been infrequent. I look around for what I can offer in the way of dinner.
“You? Build something? I’ll admit you were good with your hands, but not in a carpentry capacity,” Dallas teases.
“You’d be surprised what you can learn when you have to.”
“I suppose.” I add more wood to the stove to get the room warmed up as she walks the small circle of the room’s living area, taking in the décor, or lack thereof. She stops in front of the fireplace and gently touches one of the photos on the mantel. “You and your folks,” she says quietly, then picks up the photo next to that one. One of her and me. She fingers it for a moment, then sets it down again.
I put together a plate of cheese, homemade bread, and chunks of venison sausage I’d traded a bottle of wine for with a local farmer—the kind of bartering that didn’t require cash, credit, or identification. Life is very simple out here in the woods, and looking at Dallas, being reminded of my former life, I realize how much its charm has taken root in me. Could she ever come to appreciate this kind of environment, this way of existing? Taking things day by day; feeling joy in silence and solitude? Expecting nothing but what nature and the occasional kindness of a like-minded neighbor provide?
“Hey. Sit down and have something,” I say gently as I walk up behind her. She turns to look at me, then down at the plate in my hand.
“Thanks.” She stacks a selection of items together like a tiny sandwich and takes a small bite. The fare is a bit chewy, and after a few cycles of her jaw she manages a swallow.
“What do you think?” I ask.
“It’s…it’s good,” she says but doesn’t attempt a second bite. She lifts her face to meet mine, her eyes shining behind a watery veil of tears. Her lips begin to tremble. “Oh, Levi…how did everything come to this?” she sobs. “You…me…this place…”
I set the plate down and take her in my arms. “Hey, now, it’s alright. Everything’s going to be okay. Don’t cry.” I’m not sure if it’s my meager menu, or the surroundings, or just the harrowing events of the day, likely all three, that have finally caught up to her, but her cries still carve a hole in my insides. Despite my determination to help her, even after all I’ve learned, all I’ve taught myself in becoming self-sufficient and living off the land, I feel completely helpless in the wake of her tears. “Shhh,” I soothe, holding her to my chest and stroking the back of her head, my fingers catching in her tangled locks. “You need some rest. Let me help you up to the loft. It’s not a five-star hotel bed, but it’s soft and warm.”
“I can’t leave Mason. I…I never told you what the doctor said. He warned me to make sure he gets his medicine, and not take him outdoors too much. He has an ear infection that could turn into something more serious, and I’m to watch for certain symptoms. Oh, Levi, I’m scared. What if he takes a turn for the worse? What if he needs the doctor again? We’re miles away, and it could snow any day…”
“Slow down,” I say. “None of that’s happened yet. You’re both safe here, and Mason has the two of us now to watch over him. If we need a doctor, we’ll get a doctor. My truck can make it through any snowstorm the mountains can throw at us.” I tilt her chin upwards to gaze into those troubled blue eyes that I wish with all my soul I could drain every worry from. “Trust in me, Dally. Trust in us.”
She blinks back her tears and gives a weak nod. “I do trust you, Levi. I’m just not sure I can trust myself. To be strong enough.”