Hunted (7 page)

They finished up their breakfast and when Roxy presented the bill, Ethan pulled cash out of his pocket. It made Chandler realize that she had very little money on her. She normally paid for everything with her debit card, but that was in the purse that was now likely in police custody.

“Thanks for feeding me,” she said after Roxy left to get Ethan’s change. “Not only have I lost my credit cards, which I wouldn’t be able to use anyway, I only have a couple dollars that I had in my jeans pocket.”

“I’ve got plenty of cash.”

She’d seen the wad of it. “Why so much? Were you planning on buying something for the cabin?”

He shook his head. “I...I guess I just like having cash around. Maybe because I grew up in a house where as a kid, if I had to ask my mom for ten bucks for something at school, I’d see this panic in her eyes. And when we went to the grocery store, we only had so much money. So if I wanted something that wasn’t on the list, something else had to come off the list. I hated that. I swore that when I grew up, I was always going to have cash. Plenty of it. It makes me feel happy just knowing it’s there.” He shook his head. “That probably seems weird to you.”

She smiled at him. “It makes a lot of sense. Things that happen to us as kids definitely shape our whole lives.”

“Your mom died,” he said, his tone gentle. “How did that shape your life?”

She appreciated that he was direct. “Well, you know she had cancer. She died when she was thirty-seven. Not really all that much older than I am now. Every year on my birthday, I can’t help but think that soon, I’ll have been alive longer than my mother was.”

“And that bothers you?”

She shrugged. “It makes me scared sometimes. I worry that my life could be over before I get to do all the things I want to do or accomplish everything I want to accomplish. Do you ever think of things like that? After all, your dad died young, too.”

He shook his head. “When you’re in the military, you accept that death is a possibility. You don’t want it but you accept it. I guess I just didn’t worry about it.”

“You’re lucky.”

“I guess I—”

Ethan stopped when Roxy approached the table with his change. He took some of it but handed her a very nice tip. “That’s yours,” he said. “My wife and I are going to try to catch a little sleep in our truck. You don’t mind if we keep it parked in your lot, do you?”

The woman shrugged. “Don’t see that it much matters,” she said. “Won’t be all that busy today. Nobody is going out in this unless they have to. But if it’s sleep you want, maybe I can help you out. There’s a room with a private bath upstairs. I rent it out to a sales guy who calls on this region. He stays here during the week and goes home to Utah on the weekends. Anyway, he left yesterday when he heard the snow was coming. I got up early this morning and cleaned the room and put clean sheets and towels in there so that it would be ready when he came back next week. I’ll let you folks have it for fifty bucks a night.”

Ethan looked at Chandler.

A warm bed with clean sheets and a hot shower to ease the tension in her sore shoulder. It sounded like heaven. “We’ll be leaving just as soon as the road opens up,” Chandler said.

Roxy shrugged her narrow shoulders. “Fifty bucks, whether you stay two hours or all night. Same difference to me. Same amount of work for me to clean up after you.”

“We’ve got a dog in our truck,” Ethan said. “Good dog,” he added. “Can we bring her inside with us?”

The woman shrugged. “Twenty more for the night and you clean up any mess she makes.”

Ethan pulled cash out of his pocket. “Sounds like a fair offer. You’re sure Dot doesn’t have other plans for the room?” he asked, nodding his head at the sign that hung over the counter.

“There ain’t been a Dot here since the Vietnam War ended. Her husband came back and they took off somewhere. Every owner since then has kept the name. I didn’t see any reason to change it. What was I going to call it? Roxy’s? Sounds like a bunch of hookers and people would take one look at me and know that I could make more money selling eggs.”

There wasn’t much to say to that. Chandler looked at Ethan.

“We’ll take it,” he said.

Roxy held out her hand for the money.

Ethan gave it to her. “You wouldn’t happen to have a couple plastic containers? I’d like to have them for my dog. One for food and the other for water.”

“I got all kinds of that stuff. Wait here.”

She went back into the kitchen and returned in less than a minute. She tossed one empty plastic container in Ethan’s direction and handed the container that she’d already filled with water to Chandler.

He was grateful the woman hadn’t balked at having Molly in the room. He couldn’t have left the dog alone in the truck all night—not with the freezing temperatures.

He didn’t much care about having a bed to sleep in. He’d slept in much worse places over the years than a truck with nicely padded seats. But the look on Chandler’s face when the woman had described the room convinced him.

He’d seen her efforts to stay awake while he’d been driving. He’d lost track of how many times she’d nodded off, only to wake up with a jerk minutes later. He’d wished she’d simply give in and sleep but she’d refused to do that. And there was no way that her shoulder wasn’t hurting. She’d taken the last of the ibuprofen with her breakfast and that would help, but real rest would help more.

Roxy led them to the back of the restaurant, and opened a door to a small dark hallway. At the end was another door and stairs leading up.

“That door opens to the parking lot. I’ll unlock it now so that you can get your dog.”

Ethan made his way to the truck, realizing that the tracks that he and Chandler had made earlier coming into the diner were already gone, filled in by swirling snow. He opened the door and whistled softly for Molly, who leaped off the seat and promptly floundered in the snow that came up past her belly. Ethan grabbed his duffel bag and Molly’s leash. “Don’t embarrass me inside,” he warned the dog.

He clipped the leash on Molly and led her back into the building. She was covered with snow by the time they got inside. Ethan used his hands to brush off the worst, thinking that Roxy wouldn’t be too happy with Molly tracking all over everything.

But the woman barely gave the dog a glance. She led them up the stairs, into another narrow hallway that had a door on each side. She opened the door on the right.

The full-size bed took up most of the small room. There was a scratched-up dresser in the corner with a straight-backed wooden chair next to it. There was an oscillating fan in the other corner that was not plugged in.

It was intimate.

In a very minimalistic kind of way.

But it looked clean and he figured that Chandler could take the bed and there’d be just enough room for him and Molly to stretch out on the floor.

It would be fine for a few hours.

Chandler put down Molly’s water dish and the dog immediately took a big drink. Then she quickly sniffed around the whole room before settling on the rug next to the bed.

“I’ll get the heat going for you,” Roxy said. She walked over to the thermometer on the wall and twisted the knob.

“Roxy,” Ethan said, “I’m wondering if I could ask a favor. Because we’re on our way to get our children, we want to leave here as soon as the road opens up. I know you’ve got the television going downstairs. If the status of the road changes, would you tell us? I’ll throw in an extra twenty for the room.”

“I’ll keep an eye on the television. But I’m leaving at eight tonight. Sharp. No need to stay open all night in this weather. You’re on your own until tomorrow morning if you’re not gone by then. By the way, if you’re going to want dinner, get your food order in by seven.”

Ethan could see the panic in Chandler’s eyes at the thought that they might be delayed that long.

“That’s the bathroom,” Roxy said, pointing at the closed door across the hallway. “Takes a minute for the hot water to get going but it’ll last you a nice long time.” She turned and walked to the door of the small room, then stopped and looked over her shoulder. “I imagine it’s hard to be separated from your children at a time like this, but I suggest you both get some sleep. You look like you could use it.”

Ethan and Chandler waited until her footsteps had faded before closing the door. Molly, who had jumped up on the chair, was looking at them expectantly.

“She’s something,” Chandler said.

“For a minute I thought I was back in the army and that I should salute.”

Chandler sat down on the bed. The mattress appeared firm. Probably so the woman could make exact corners when she made up the bed.

“Got a quarter?” she asked.

Ethan fished around in his pocket. “No. Why?”

“Isn’t that what happens in basic training? They make you bounce a quarter on your bed to make sure it’s made right.”

It should have surprised him that he and Chandler were thinking along the same lines. But it didn’t. It felt normal. “Basic training was a thousand years ago.”

Chandler waved a hand. “You say that as if you’re two thousand years old.”

“I’m almost thirty-eight.” This past year he’d aged in dog years.

“I know how old you are, Ethan.” Her pretty green eyes never wavered from his. “You’re not too old and I’m old enough.”

Chapter Seven

“What the hell did you mean by that?”

“I think you know what I mean,” she said, sounding irritated. She waved her hand. “Never mind. I can be a little impulsive at times. This was one of those moments.”

He could feel the tension in the room, and as it had been when he was a kid, he had a physical reaction. His skin got warm and his eyes seemed more sensitive to the early-morning sunlight that bounced off the snow and leaked in through the thin curtains.

He could literally feel the blood coursing through his veins. Could feel parts that had no business having any reaction to Chandler McMann start to tighten and harden.

He shifted his stance.

She boldly stared at him. He wasn’t fooling anyone.

“I’ve known you my whole life,” she said. “You were my brother’s cool friend. I guess I always figured I might see you again someday, but I certainly never expected that I’d be sharing a room with you. But we are. We’re both adults, Ethan. We don’t need to make this bigger than what it is. But we also don’t have to ignore that this could be something nice, something good, in the middle of something that quite frankly isn’t very nice or good.”

She made it sound so easy, so damn reasonable. They’d hook up and have a couple hours of fun and when this was all over, go on their merry ways.

Under normal circumstances, he might accept the offer on the table. She was gorgeous. They were both unattached. They had a few hours to kill.

But it didn’t matter that her suggestion made his body tight with almost uncontrollable need. Chandler McCann was the daughter of the man he respected most in this world, the sister of his best friend. And he was a man with nothing. No job, no real place to live. He wasn’t what she deserved. “I think you better get some sleep, Chandler. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

She blinked her eyes fast and he realized that she was fighting back tears.

“Don’t you dare cry,” he said. That would be his undoing. “I’m doing this for you. I’m doing this because it’s the right thing to do.”

“Whatever.” She stood quickly. “I’m going to take a shower.” Then she left the room without looking back.

* * *

C
HANDLER
WENT
INTO
the small but clean bathroom. There was a shower stall but no bathtub. She turned on the water and quickly realized Roxy had been right. It took forever for the water to heat up.

She put the toilet seat down, sat and let the tears come. And come and come. All the frustration of the past few days, all of the fear and desperation of running for her life, all the angst and embarrassment of the past few minutes, it was a watershed moment. And when the water finally got hot and she stepped into the small stall, she was still crying.

Was she destined to always make a fool of herself around Ethan? She could still clearly remember the year she was fourteen and they’d been celebrating Mack’s and Brody’s college graduations. She’d gotten up one morning and Ethan had been in the kitchen, wearing nothing but pajama bottoms that rode low on his hips. He’d had his back to her, making scrambled eggs. He’d turned to her, smiled and asked if she’d wanted some breakfast.

She’d been determined to impress him, to make him notice her. So she’d lied. Had told him some wild story about how she wasn’t sure she could eat because she’d been with friends the night before and they’d gotten someone older to buy them alcohol.

She’d thought he would think it was cool, that maybe he’d see her in a different light. He’d see her as old enough to be interesting.

But he hadn’t acted as if he thought it was cool. He’d lectured her that she was too young to even be thinking about drinking. He’d been so serious, so damn grown-up about it. And she’d wanted to be mad at him. But then he’d said, “You’re too nice a girl to have something bad happen to you. Promise me that you won’t do that again.”

And she’d known that deep down, Ethan Moore cared about her. Maybe even liked her. It had been overwhelming. She’d mumbled something about a promise and then she’d run for the shower because she simply had to get away. Had to get control of the emotions and feelings that were flooding her hormone-cursed teenage body.

When she’d finally come back to the kitchen, he’d been gone. She’d moped around the house for days until her father had finally demanded she tell him what was wrong. When she’d refused, he’d said that he assumed that she felt bad about the drinking, proving that Ethan had mentioned it to her father. She’d been so angry that she’d blurted the truth out.
I never had a drink. I just wanted Ethan to think that I was cool.

Her dad had nodded and said that he understood but he’d gotten that same look in his eyes that he’d gotten the day she’d told him that she’d started her period.

She hadn’t seen Ethan for all these years but evidently nothing had changed. He still wasn’t interested.

By the end of her fifteen-minute shower, the tears had finally stopped. She stepped out onto the tile floor, being careful not to slip. It felt wonderful to be clean. When she rotated her shoulder gently, it felt pretty good.

Taking the end of her towel, she wiped the steam off the mirror that hung above the sink and leaned close. Roxy was right. She looked tired.

Maybe that was why Ethan had turned her down flat.

If it were only that easy. A little sleep could fix everything. The next time she offered, he’d jump on it.

She didn’t think so. It hadn’t been a
boy, I’d really like to but no, thanks
. It had been a
hell, no
.

Was it because he couldn’t ever see her as anything but Mack McCann’s little sister who ate egg sandwiches and drank chocolate milk? Was it because he resented that she’d pulled him into a situation that was getting worse by the minute?

Was it because she just didn’t do it for him?

That one was really tough to take.

She pulled a hair dryer off its hook and punched the on button with more force than necessary. Then she did her best without a comb, finger-drying her long hair. When she finished, it wasn’t perfect but at least it was clean and dry.

She picked up her dirty clothes, which were nice and toasty from the heat that was pouring out of the tall radiator. She pulled her bra and panties from the pile. Maybe she couldn’t wash everything but at least she could have clean underwear.

She used a little of the hand soap and warm water to clean the delicate fabric. After rinsing her lingerie, she hung it over the radiator to dry. She picked up her shoes and also put them on the radiator.

She wrapped the towel around her and tucked it in to keep it secure. Then she once again crossed the hall and opened the bedroom door.

Ethan was stretched out on the floor, his eyes closed, his breathing deep. He was still fully dressed.

Chandler stared at him. He was such a handsome man. So very male with his broad chest and his slim hips.

And he’d said no. She should respect that.

She climbed into bed, still wearing her towel, and closed her eyes.

* * *

E
THAN
DIDN
’
T
OPEN
his eyes until he was sure that Chandler was asleep. Then he sat up, careful to stay quiet.

She had the covers pulled up with one bare arm on the outside, and he could see the edge of her towel peeking out above the covers. She had such lovely skin, so pale, with just a few freckles. Her dark hair floated around her face, spreading across the white pillowcases.

He was a damn fool. She’d offered and he’d turned her down. He hadn’t had much of a choice. He sure as hell wasn’t going to disappoint Baker McCann or Mack by taking advantage of the situation.

What they both needed was a little perspective. And a little sleep. It was almost eight, the time when most reasonable people were just starting their day. There’d been nothing reasonable about the past ten hours. From the minute he’d crashed through the tree boughs only to realize that he had Chandler McCann in his arms, he’d been solely focused on keeping her safe.

At the time, he’d thought his biggest worry was going to be her sore shoulder.

An explosion in the middle of the night had quickly upped the ante, and now a damn race across the mountains in the middle of a blizzard was bordering on sheer madness.

Was it possible that her stepmother was selling military secrets? Could Baker McCann have given his heart to a monster?

No, not the Baker he knew and respected and loved. Yes,
loved.
He’d been a young boy in need of a father figure, and Baker had been more than just an acceptable stand-in. He’d inspired Ethan, given him hope.

He wasn’t going to sleep with the man’s daughter.

He recalled what Roxy had said about the shower—that the hot water would last a long time. He hoped the same was true about the cold.

He carefully got up, grabbed his duffel bag and left the room. When he opened the door, Molly lifted her head but made no move to follow him.

When he opened the bathroom door and saw Chandler’s underwear drying on the radiator, he almost forgot his resolve. She might have a towel on but she didn’t have anything on underneath it.

She’d said she was “old enough.” Her lacy dark blue underwear screamed “sexy and old enough.” And that was a hell of a combination.

He turned on the cold water and ducked his head under.

After his shower, he shaved and brushed his teeth and got dressed in clean clothes. He stuffed his dirty ones into his duffel bag and crossed the narrow hallway.

Chandler was still fast asleep, although she’d turned over in the bed. She’d thrown off the covers and her towel had come undone.

He could see most of her back. Soft skin. Delicate ridge of her spine. Gentle rise of her buttock.

Hell. He closed his eyes, turned and lay down on the floor, facing away from the bed.

He needed to get her to Denver, help her find a safe way back into her old company and then leave her in Baker’s or Mack’s safe custody.

* * *

C
HANDLER
WASN
’
T
SURE
how long she’d slept, but when she woke up, she could see Ethan asleep on the floor. She quietly stretched, making almost no noise, but still his eyes immediately flipped open.

She grabbed the edges of her towel, holding them together. She didn’t want him to think that she’d gotten so crazy that she was literally going to throw her naked body at him.

“Hi,” she said, determined to get back to where they’d been before she’d propositioned him.

He smiled. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah. What time is it?”

He looked at his watch. “Almost lunchtime. We slept for about four hours. Are you hungry?”

“I could probably eat. I’d like something to drink for sure.”

“I’m going to take Molly outside while you get dressed. Then we can go downstairs, grab some lunch and check on the weather conditions. I’m assuming the road is still closed or Roxy would have been knocking on the door.”

“Maybe she got busy and couldn’t get away?” she said, hoping for the best.

He shrugged, then shifted from his back to his feet in one smooth motion. It was that same agility that probably had allowed him to climb the tree.

He’d likely be a very graceful lover.

That thought made the heat flood to her face.

“Are you okay? Does your shoulder hurt?”

“A little,” she said, willing to let him think that was the reason she looked a little hot and bothered. “Once I get up and going, it will be fine.”

He nodded, opened the door and whistled for Molly. The dog immediately started dancing around and Ethan clipped on her leash.

“You don’t happen to have a comb I could borrow, do you?” Chandler asked, pulling at her long dark hair.

He reached into his duffel. “Here,” he said, tossing it at her. “I’ve got my toothbrush and some toothpaste, and I’m okay sharing it.”

She ran her tongue across her teeth. It would be wonderful to brush them. “Thank you.”

He grabbed the items from his bag and tossed them in her direction, as well. They landed on the bedspread. “I’ll be back in just a minute,” he said before he left.

She climbed from the bed, wrapped the towel tight and walked to the bathroom. Her underwear was dry and she pulled it on. Then her jeans and her shirt.

She slipped on the socks Ethan had lent her and her loafers, which were dry but beat up from the walk in the snow.

She looked in the mirror. The burn across her nose and cheeks was fading. She ran Ethan’s comb through one section of her hair. Then another, until it was ready to be gathered up and secured with the clip. Then she brushed her teeth.

When she returned to the room, Ethan and Molly were already back and he’d made the bed. He was sitting on the end of it.

“That was fast,” she said.

“Molly’s not a big fan of the snow.”

But she did seem to like her food. Ethan had dumped some of the dry dog food into the empty plastic container. There was still plenty of water in the other one.

She handed him his toiletries. “Thanks. I’ve never used anyone else’s toothbrush before.”

“Not your boyfriend’s?” he asked. “Christivo, right?” he added, surprising her.

“How did you know his name?”

“Mack might have mentioned it,” he said casually.

She’d met Christivo Kappas the first semester of her senior year in college. Professor Christivo Kappas. She’d needed a liberal arts credit and philosophy sounded as good as any.

She really should have picked a theology class.

He spoke of concepts and teachings that she’d never heard of, and she’d thought he was brilliant. She’d approached him after class one day with a question, and that had led to coffee, which led to quiet dinners in his small apartment. By the fifth week of class, she’d been sleeping with him. It had been a fantasy-like romance, with him pursuing her relentlessly. The experience had been quite heady, really. She’d agreed to keep the relationship a secret, believing that he was concerned about how his boss might interpret his having a relationship with a student.