Chapter Three #2
She stared at the shadow of her SUV, its hood gleaming in the dark.
They could crawl into the back and curl up among the piles of luggage.
Everything she owned was there. Everything Bennett hadn’t stolen, everything she could afford to keep.
All of the remnants of her former life, packed into neat bundles.
Vanessa lifted her chin in determination. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, and staying near the cabin appealed to her sense of fairness. Why should she leave the premises instead of Paul Murphy? He hadn’t paid a dime, as far as she knew. He just worked here. She had every right to park overnight.
Decision made, she opened the hatch of the SUV, set Emily down, and contemplated the cramped space.
“What are you doing, Mommy?”
“Making room,” she said, moving her suitcase to the front passenger seat. “We’re going to car-camp overnight.”
“Why?”
“Because there’s a stranger inside our cabin and he won’t leave.”
“Why does he look like that?”
“Like what?”
Emily screwed her face into a scowl. “Like he sucked on a lemon.”
“Maybe he did.”
Her daughter retrieved her doll from the grass and stuck two fingers in her mouth.
Vanessa had been trying to cure her of the finger-sucking habit, with no luck.
She pushed a box of books to the floor, along with her medical bag and Emily’s booster seat.
After she’d cleared a narrow space, she used her yoga mat and some fluffy beach towels for padding.
Then she tossed a couple of blankets on top.
Vanessa surveyed her work with satisfaction.
When life gave you lemons, you made lemonade.
She let Emily crawl into the back seat with Penelope.
The little girl seemed unfazed by the arrangement, or too sleepy to start another ruckus.
Vanessa was about to join her when she spotted Paul emerging from the cabin.
He retrieved something from his truck. After tinkering around for a minute, he locked the vehicle and put the keys in his pocket.
She noted that he’d donned shoes for this errand.
He glanced her direction, his brow furrowed. After a short pause, he stepped forward. “Are you having car trouble?”
“No,” Vanessa said.
He squinted in the dark. “Man trouble?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and saw his eyes dip to follow the motion. “None of your business.”
“You’re in my front yard.”
“This isn’t your yard. It’s a parking space.”
A muscle in his jaw flexed. “If you want to park overnight, there’s a campground less than a mile away.”
“Thanks for the tip,” she said. “But I’m okay right here.”
He weighed her words without any visible reaction. “You don’t strike me as the kind of woman who sleeps in her vehicle.”
Vanessa peered into the back seat, where Emily was snuggled up with her doll. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know you’re not from Colorado.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your vehicle has Colorado plates,” he said. “It’s a recent purchase, judging by the sale sticker on the front window. Maybe you traded in a flashier, more expensive model. I’m guessing you left a man behind, probably that girl’s daddy.”
She tapped her fingertips on her upper arms. “Are you done?”
His gaze didn’t follow the motion. “Your accent has faded a little, but I reckon you’re from South Texas.”
She bristled at his use of the word reckon, which sounded mocking.
She was proud of her heritage and she didn’t like his intuitive assessment of her situation.
Instead of admitting that all of his guesses were correct, she looked him up and down.
The cowboy hat on the countertop was a basic cattleman style, popular with working men throughout the region.
But his own speech indicated a city upbringing, the words clipped and conformed to the point of being indistinguishable from the rest of the country.
Vanessa turned her body away from the vehicle so Emily couldn’t overhear. “Let’s talk about you.”
He gave a stiff shrug. “Go for it.”
“You’re clearly an outsider, despite the backwoods truck. Even without the flat accent and lack of hospitality, I can spot a down-on-his-luck city boy a mile away. Why are you here? Did you lose your job at the refinery?”
His lips quirked at the dig, as if he found it amusing.
“You’re past thirty, already divorced or never married, just some hard-knocks roughneck from Dallas or Houston. How did you get injured?”
The last question hit a nerve, judging by his steely expression. He smelled like medicine and he had the aura of a person in pain. She was good at guessing games too, and she felt a surge of satisfaction at identifying a weakness in him.
“Is someone looking for you?” he asked.
“No one’s looking for me.”
He appeared skeptical of her answer, but he didn’t press for more information.
With a polite nod, he turned on his heel and walked away.
Vanessa stared after him in irritation. For some reason, his abrupt departure offended her.
She hadn’t wanted their sparring session to end like this. She hadn’t wanted it to end at all.
Damn it.
On impulse, she raised her hand and flipped the bird at his back.
He glanced over his shoulder at that exact moment and caught her in the act.
Instead of taking offense, he laughed. As he ascended the steps to the cabin, she noted the play of muscles in his back, and the surprising grace of his large body.
She dropped her arm, flushing.
“What does that mean, Mommy?”
Vanessa turned her attention to Emily, who’d attempted to imitate the rude gesture. She didn’t have the manual dexterity for the task. “It means a bad word. It’s not nice.”
“You say bad words.”
“Yes.”
“Are you nice?”
Instead of answering, Vanessa climbed into the back seat.
She was too tired for parenting paradoxes.
She covered them both with Emily’s favorite blanket, a dark blue flannel adorned with stars.
The little girl yawned and snuggled against her.
Vanessa’s heart swelled with love for her daughter, who was truly the light of her life.
She couldn’t regret her marriage to Bennett, disastrous as it had been, because Emily gave her so much joy and contentment.
She gave Vanessa a reason to get up every morning.
Vanessa placed a kiss on her daughter’s sweet little head and tried to calm her mind.
She was accustomed to less than eight hours of rest, and she doubted she could relax enough to sleep in the vehicle.
It felt good to lie down, however. It felt good to be back in Lost Lake, where she could start over.
She anticipated a swarm of insects, or some other nuisance, to disturb her slumber.
Instead, the ambiance was pleasant. The air was warm, with a light breeze that drifted through the open windows.
The yoga mat beneath her back was high-quality and supportive.
Her thoughts remained troubled, despite the relative comfort and peaceful setting.
The divorce from Bennett had left her strapped for cash.
Although she’d been sensible with her money, his debts had drowned them both.
She couldn’t afford another summer rental in this area, and it was too late in the season to find a decent alternative.
If she didn’t get the cabin, they’d have to rough it at the campground, or go to some run-down hotel in a different city.
Jackson would probably grill her about her finances until she admitted she was broke.
Then he’d suggest that she come home and make amends with their father.
Vanessa sighed, closing her eyes. Ideas floated around in her mind like fireflies.
She entertained a vague fantasy of taking Paul captive, shackling his wrists and removing him from her cabin.
Then, half dreaming, she imagined doing other things with him.
Pleasurable things she hadn’t done in far too long.
At last exhaustion overtook her, and she slept.