Hide The Child. Janice Johnson Kay
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rolling onto her back. Instead, she pushed aside a comforter in a denim duvet cover and gingerly sat up.
It all rushed back. The fire, dropping from a second-story window, the hospital. Complete loss. Wasn’t that what the fire chief had said? Joseph.
Gabe Decker.
This must be his home, or at least his ranch hideout. The wide-plank floor looked like what she’d expect of a log house. A closer look at the window told her it was set in a wall thicker than usual.
And then her eyes widened. Chloe!
Still wearing the scrubs, she didn’t take time to use the bathroom or find her flip-flops. She rushed out into a hall and toward the staircase at the end.
Halfway down, she heard that deep, smooth voice. He was talking to someone, pausing for unheard answers. Telephone?
The vast living room was empty. She followed the voice to the kitchen, where she saw Chloe, perched on a tall stool, watching as the big, powerful man flipped a hamburger in a pan on the stove.
“Is that a yes or no to cheese?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.
He took in Chloe’s nod, then saw Trina hovering. He didn’t smile; the way he looked her over was more assessment than anything. “You’re just in time for dinner.”
“Dinner.” She was dazed enough to feel out of sync.
Chloe swung around, scrambled off the stool and raced to Trina. She threw her arms around Trina’s legs and hugged, hard. That she’d regressed to being nonverbal felt like yet another deep bruise in the region of Trina’s chest.
“I’m glad to see you, too, pumpkin.” Trina found a smile for the little girl, who tipped back her head to look up at her. “Why don’t you start on your cheeseburger while I go back upstairs and, um, at least brush my hair?” And pee. She really needed that bathroom.
“Did you see your duffel at the foot of the bed?” Gabe asked.
“No, I suddenly panicked—” She broke off. “You know how confusing it is to wake in a strange place.”
His expression of mild surprise said he didn’t know. As often as he—and her brother—woke in strange and dangerous places, they probably knew where they were and why instantly, before they opened their eyes. They probably held on to the where and why while they slept.
“Never mind,” she mumbled, and took herself back upstairs to start over again. The woman she saw in the mirror horrified her. Her face was filthy, her eyes bloodshot and her hair a tangled mess. Lovely.
Washing her face helped only a little. She dug the bottle of pills out of the duffel and took one, hoping that would be enough to dull the pain without knocking her out again. Then she tackled her hair as well as she could when raising her arms stretched the skin on her shoulders and back. Her left shoulder ached fiercely, too, as did her left hip. No, those two pillows hadn’t softened her landing on the hard ground much, if at all. The doctor had warned her to expect swelling and colorful bruises.
A ponytail proved to be beyond her. Changing clothes...not yet, she decided. She craved a shower but shuddered at the idea of hot water on her back. Spot-cleaning was as good as it would get.
And once she had something to eat, she’d have to break it to the Army Ranger downstairs that he now had medic duties as well as KP.
He studied her again when she reappeared, small lines appearing on his forehead. Apparently, she hadn’t accomplished miracles.
“Cheese?” he asked.
“Please.”
She leaned against a sort of breakfast bar rather than trying to sit on a stool. She studied Chloe, who had made surprising inroads on her burger, which from experience Trina knew was completely plain. She wouldn’t have touched the sliced tomatoes, onions or lettuce Gabe had set out, or the ketchup or mustard, either. What surprised Trina was that the three-year-old didn’t seem wary of Gabe. She shied from most people, especially men, yet was happily eating food he’d put in front of her, her bare feet swinging.
“Did you nap?” Trina asked.
Chloe nodded.
“She was up for a couple of hours in the middle of the day,” Gabe said, “napped again and got up about an hour ago.”
Intrigued, Trina wondered how he’d entertained Chloe for those two hours. The little girl appeared surprisingly comfortable with him. “How long did I sleep?”
He glanced at the microwave. “Nine hours.”
“Really?” She’d have had to be deeply asleep for Chloe to have slipped out of bed without her noticing. “I never conk out like that.”
“I don’t suppose you had a very good night’s sleep,” he said dryly.
“Well, no, but...” Her stomach growled and she pressed a hand against it. “I’m starved. I haven’t had anything to eat since last night.”
“I guessed. Here.” He handed her a plate with baked beans, corn and a cheeseburger on a fat bun. “Chloe declined the beans.”
The little girl wrinkled her nose.
Trina kissed the top of her head. “She’s at an age to be picky.”
“Figured.” He produced silverware, then brought his own plate over to the bar and sat on Chloe’s other side, hooking the heels of his boots on a rung as if it were a fence rail.
After gobbling half her meal, Trina said, “It’s been peaceful?”
He glanced at her sidelong. “Yep. We made a clean getaway.”
“Yes, but... I can’t be completely out of touch.”
“We’ll talk about it later.”
Something about his tone made her wonder how two-way he intended that talk to be. Did he really think Joseph’s sister would be meek and docile? Dealing with him would be easier if she could read him better, but he was so guarded she wondered what it would take to shatter his control. Something told her pain hadn’t done it. In fact, he might have shored up his walls during his lengthy recuperation.
Chloe dropped her cheeseburger without finishing it. She immediately crawled over onto Trina’s lap. Trina held her with her left arm and kept eating.
“I don’t suppose you have any toys around?” she asked after a minute.
Gabe snorted.
“Didn’t think so.”
“Actually... Well, I’ll look around. I said it was okay for Boyd to loan this place out to a friend of his. Ski vacation. He had a family. Don’t know how old the kids were. They might have left something behind.”
Chloe’s head came up. She’d been following the conversation.
Unable to quite clean her plate, Trina finished eating first. “Do you have a satellite dish?”
“Yeah. Hey. Channel three has the lineup.”
She’d seen the living room but not taken it in. She couldn’t describe it as homey, exactly; Gabe had furnished it with the basics but not bothered with artwork or homey touches like table runners or rugs. The sofa and a big recliner were brown leather that made her think of saddles. The clean lines of the oak coffee table and single end table might be Mission style. Built-in bookcases lined one wall and held an impressive stereo system as well as quite a library. A big-screen TV hung above a cabinet that had drawers. Trina went to investigate those.
Among a good-size collection of movies for grown-ups, she found three DVDs aimed at kids: Finding Nemo, A Bug’s Life and Arthur’s Perfect Christmas. Chloe decided on Arthur’s Perfect Christmas. Trina succeeded in getting it started and Chloe climbed onto the sofa and settled happily to watch.
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