The Outsider's Redemption. Joanna Wayne
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and her head no longer ached from the blow she’d received earlier that day. She was tough, always had been. It was only her petite size that fooled people, but she couldn’t deny that a bed would feel really good about now. They hit a hole, and she grabbed hold of the armrest to keep from falling over onto Cody. “Is this the most desolate place you can find?”
“On short notice.” Apprehension set her stomach rolling again. “You said we were going to look for a place to spend the night. You surely don’t expect to find a motel down this lousy excuse for a road.”
“Not a motel, but the sign back there said there’s a fishing camp down here with rustic cabins.”
“I don’t doubt the rustic part.”
“It won’t be the Holiday Inn, but we shouldn’t have to worry about anyone finding us down here.”
“That sounds as if you think someone is still looking.”
“I haven’t spotted anyone who looked even vaguely suspicious since we left the restaurant, but I don’t take chances unless I have to.”
She put her hand to her mouth, almost catching the end of her fingernail between her teeth before she jerked it away. It was no time to show weakness. “Mr. Austin failed to mention that delivery of the files would be this dangerous.”
“Would it have made a difference?”
She considered the question. “It might have. I wouldn’t have worried about myself so much, but I have my unborn child to consider.”
“Now’s a fine time to think about that.”
His attitude annoyed her. “Don’t you ever take risks, Cody Gannon?”
“All the time.” He nudged his Stetson back a notch, and a sprinkling of dark, wavy hair peeked out from under the edge of the hat. “I just don’t want tonight to be one of them.”
“That makes two of us.”
SARAH LEANED against the doorframe of the small office while Cody registered them as Mr. and Mrs. Carpenter. He paid the bill for one night’s lodging in advance—in cash.
She lost track of the conversation, as the middle-aged woman who’d introduced herself as the owner drawled on, more nosy than she had a right to be. Instead Sarah shuffled through memories, searching for something pleasant to latch on to.
A morning five months ago when she’d stood in Dr. Marino’s office and he’d told her that the test she’d taken at home had been accurate. She was carrying a new life inside her. The events that followed played in her mind, turning sour when she got to the point where she delivered the news to Todd.
“You don’t look so good.”
She jumped at the voice. The woman had walked over to stand beside her. “I ate some spicy food,” Sarah answered, looking away from the woman’s appraising stare. “I took a couple of antacid tablets. I’ll be fine. I just need a bed.”
“Hmmmph. I’d say you need a sight more than that.” The woman’s gaze traveled from Sarah’s swollen nose to the dried bloodstain on the front of her clothes. Then she looked back at Cody, disgust twisting her mouth and narrowing her eyes.
It took Sarah a few seconds to decipher her meaning. The woman believed that Cody had hit her. “This isn’t what it seems,” Sarah assured her and then wondered why she bothered. It was clear from the woman’s patronizing smile that she didn’t believe her.
The woman laid a hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “I’ll be working until nine. If you need anything, just call me.” Her gaze shifted to Cody and then back again. “And you don’t have to put up with anything as long as you’re staying in one of my cabins. I have a night watchman on duty. He’s tough as a wild coyote. Nobody scares him.”
Sarah looked up to find Cody doing his own impression of a big, tough Texan behind the woman’s back. Any other time, she’d have had to laugh. Even now, she managed a smile. “If I need you, or the night watchman, I’ll definitely call.”
The woman stood in the door and watched them as they left the office and walked back to the truck. The cabin she’d assigned them was at the end of the road, set off by itself.
“That’s the first time I’ve been accused of being a wife beater,” Cody said, as he took her elbow and guided her around a rut in the path.
“She didn’t accuse you.”
“Oh, no? If looks could kill, I’d be waiting on morgue pick-up right now.”
“As it is, you better walk a thin, straight line or I’ll have her sic the night watchman on you.”
“She’s probably calling him right now, to put him on alert so he can start flexing his big, tough muscles. Of course, once he finds out its a looker he’s to protect, he might flex a new muscle. Then you’d be wishing you had me back.”
“Or maybe not. I haven’t seen the big, tough watchman yet.” But his comment stayed with her. Cody saw her as attractive. Interesting, especially since most of the time he treated her as if she had something contagious.
The night watchman stepped into the clearing surrounding the office just as they reached the truck. The woman hadn’t lied. The man was big, at least a head taller than Cody with muscles a body builder would have envied. A gun rested in a holster at his waist but it was the chainsaw he held in his hand that sent shivers up Sarah’s spine.
“It’s almost dark. Why would he be chopping down trees this time of night?” she asked.
Cody opened the truck door for her. “He’s probably cutting some logs into firewood.”
“Hmm. Does chainsaw massacre have any meaning for you?”
“It didn’t. It does now.” He touched a hand to her arm. “But don’t worry. You have a cowboy to protect you. You know, so many cowboys, so little time.”
“You against the machismo guard dog. Now I feel so much better.”
SARAH STEPPED inside the cabin. It was one room, with a sink, range, table and four chairs on one end and a bed, chest and upholstered chair on the other. An open door led to a closet-sized bathroom. The mattress was lumpy, narrow, topped with a faded spread and two pillows that had lost their fluff years ago. Still, it had been an extremely long and eventful day, and she couldn’t remember when a bed had looked so inviting.
Cody reached to take her coat from around her shoulders. She held on to it for a second, then relinquished it. If she made too much of a fuss, he’d figure out why she never let it out of her sight.
Cody hung up the coat and then walked over to stand beside her. “Now that we’ve settled for the night, you should give your doctor a call.”
“If it will make you happy. But I’m fine.” She called the after-hours number and left a message for her gynecologist to call her back. Then she slipped out of her shoes and stretched out on the bed. “My mother always said that the best thing for a queasy stomach is to lie very still and think pleasant thoughts.”
“Yeah, well my mother always gave me a cold, wet cloth for my head. We weren’t big on pleasant thoughts around my house.”
He walked away and came back a few moments later with a damp cloth. The bed shifted as he sat down on the edge of it and pressed the thin washcloth against her forehead. She stared up at him, studying his expression. The worry was evident. She wondered if it was really for her.
“Why don’t you crawl under the covers and get comfortable,” he said. “If you need anything, I’ll be right here.”
“That’s the nicest thing you’ve said since you met me at the airport.” She closed her eyes. Actually, promising to be there for her might be the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her, she decided, as she took his suggestion and snuggled between the sheets.
Too bad the emotion