In The Arms Of A Stranger. Kristen Robinette
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either. Luke pulled out his ID and passed it to her. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
Relief softened her features as she examined the ID and returned it. Her gaze returned to the baby. “There was an accident. The car went off the cliff…”
Luke summoned his patience when he saw a tear slide down her cheek. “Ma’am?” He gently touched her chin with his fingers and tipped her face upward. “I need to know what’s going on so that I can help.”
“I tried to help.” She pulled the baby against her chest when he began to fret. “Someone started shooting at me.”
“Why would someone shoot at you?”
The baby began crying and the woman tried to soothe him, glancing nervously at Luke and then at the door. He let out a piercing yell as she rocked him against her shoulder.
“You’ve got to get him quiet,” Luke growled, knowing the infant’s cries were like a beacon in the darkness, blowing any cover they had.
“I know.” She shifted him, patting his back frantically. “I think maybe he’s hungry. I’m really not sure.”
“I hope you have the answer in that diaper bag.” He paused, his gaze dropping to her chest. “Unless you need some privacy, in which case you’re right out of luck.”
“No.” The woman looked confused then angry as she pulled the diaper bag to her. “I think I saw some formula in here.”
Luke frowned. “You think? Why don’t you know?”
Dana Langston looked at him as though he’d lost his mind. “This is not my baby.”
She began frantically searching the diaper bag with her one free hand while Luke digested her words. “The baby was in the accident?”
“Yes.” She cupped her hand over the side of the baby’s face, as if shielding him from her next words. “His mother is dead.”
Luke cursed, his gaze scanning the confines of the cabin. He needed backup. Why hadn’t he gotten the damned two-way radio out of the Jeep?
He forced his next words to sound calm. “You’re telling me someone died in this accident?”
“A woman. I assume she was his mother. She was the only other one in the car.” Her voice took on a faraway tone, and he glanced up to find her staring at the baby as if she didn’t hear his cries, her expression fixed and her pupils dilated. “Her car went off the cliff. I climbed down and found them. I took the baby and then…”
“It’s okay.” He forced himself to speak the words softly and to postpone the other questions he wanted to fire at her. Luke laid his gun on the floor and jerked the diaper bag from her hands. Inside it was a cell phone. “You have a phone?”
“It doesn’t work,” she answered, patting the crying infant on the back.
“Figures,” he muttered, substituting the word for a stronger one that came to mind. He turned his attention back to the diaper bag. There were several miniature glass jars full of milky-looking fluid and a canister of powder. He turned the label to the light. Powdered Baby Formula. Fat good that did. He found a couple of bottle nipples in the bottom of the bag but no bottle. The baby’s cries became even more frantic and Luke dumped the contents onto the floor, growing a little frantic himself.
“Here—hold him. I’ll do it.”
As Luke looked up, Dana thrust the baby into his arms. He felt a surge of panic as the baby squirmed against his grip, arms and legs flailing. He instinctively pulled the infant against his chest, his gaze falling to his gun, judging how many seconds delay lay between him and his weapon. Any delay could cost them their lives.
“I’m glad one of us knows what they’re doing,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
Luke looked up to find a sad smile playing about Dana’s mouth. The expression snagged some emotion within him, and he had to force himself to follow her gaze. When he did, he found the baby had pulled his pinky finger to its mouth and was gumming it frantically. “Beginner’s luck,” he replied.
She lifted her hand. “Should I try?” Luke saw that she’d opened one of the small glass jars and capped it with a bottle nipple.
“Yes.” He thrust the baby toward her and she popped the bottle into the infant’s mouth before he could protest.
Luke watched as she covered the baby with the hem of her long jacket, and decided that she instinctively knew what to do. Unlike him. He retrieved his gun, relieved to hold something that he actually knew how to handle. He stood and covered the door, assessing the dark cabin, listening. He glanced down at Dana and the baby. The infant greedily consumed the bottle, but the woman’s eyes were glued to him.
“You don’t know who I am, do you?” she asked.
He frowned, examining her face. “No. Should I?”
“No—it’s just… I’ve gotten used to being recognized in Atlanta. I’m a television news anchor.”
“We don’t really get Atlanta reception up here.” He cocked his hip against the door frame, his eyes scanning the interior of the cabin that was visible from the hallway. “We get Greenville, South Carolina, if the weather’s good.”
Dana’s gaze flowed over Luke. He literally towered over her, especially from her position on the cabin’s floor. His shoulders filled the doorway, casting an impressive shadow into the hall. If he was a cop, and Dana had every reason to believe that he was who and what he said, she was a lucky woman. If he wasn’t—if he were playing some sort of twisted game—then she was…how had he put it?
Right out of luck.
But the choice to trust Luke Sutherlin had already been made. She’d made it the minute she saw him hold the infant. He’d obviously not known what to do. Yet he’d held the baby with tenderness. An old pain twisted inside her, but she forced herself to focus on the present.
“Have you heard of Paul Gonzales?”
“Yes.” She noticed a muscle twitched at the side of Luke’s jaw. “I don’t know much about the case but I know what he did.”
“I think that’s who’s out there.” Her voice sounded uncertain, even to her own ears. “That’s who was shooting at me.”
Luke whirled to face her, his blue eyes narrowed. For a moment she recoiled at the anger reflected there. “Why would you think that?”
Dana hesitated, thrown off guard by the question. Every news station, including her own, had hinted at her involvement in the Gonzalez case. The Atlanta papers had reported the story endlessly, at least until a fresher story had finally stolen the headlines. Maybe her guilt had led her to believe that her connection was more obvious to others than it really was.
Or maybe it was that this north Georgia mountain range was a world unto itself. The borders of North Carolina, South Carolina and Georgia came together like the crosshairs of a rifle scope, with Sweetwater situated at the borders of all three. It was as close to no-man’s-land as you could get. Was it possible that he really didn’t know her tragic connection to Michael Gonzalez?
A sort of freedom presented itself to her. She’d lived with the judgment of others—including herself—for over a year now. But if Luke Sutherlin didn’t know…
He doesn’t have to know, her mind whispered, that Paul Gonzalez had been ready to relinquish his paternal rights until the story aired. He didn’t have to know that because of her a madman had been given the opportunity to kill an innocent child.
Her mistake was her own. All Luke Sutherlin really needed to know was that she was scheduled to testify in the Gonzalez trial. And that Paul Gonzalez wanted to stop her.
“Why?” Luke demanded a second time.
“I’m a key witness in his trial.