Her Hero in Hiding. Rachel LeeЧитать онлайн книгу.
face seemed to stiffen a bit, but she wasn’t a hundred percent sure. Reading him was like reading runes—apparently you had to know the language. “That’s a long way,” he said finally. “You want to tell me what happened?”
“I can’t … right now.” Her mind recoiled from the memories, unwilling to remember the nightmare. “I can’t,” she said again, her heart accelerating.
“That’s okay,” he said soothingly. “I don’t need to know. It can wait.”
That was a pretty generous statement coming from a man who had picked her up off the roadside and welcomed her into his home. She felt she had to offer him something. “I ran,” she said finally. “We were at a rest stop and he thought I was unconscious, and when he went inside, I ran. I ran …” Her voice trailed off, and she closed her eyes.
“You ran a helluva distance,” he said. “The nearest rest stop I can think of is about nine miles from where I found you.”
“I run marathons,” she said simply.
A soft oath escaped him. She looked at him then, and there was no mistaking the anger on his face. She wanted to shrink and hide, but there was no place to go, not now.
But moments later his face settled back into impassivity. Of course, he wasn’t mad at her, she thought. Not like him. This was a different man, one who was trying to help her. He had been nothing but kind.
“So you’re from Texas,” he said presently. “I spent some time there, years ago, mostly in Killeen.”
She started. “Really? That’s where I’m from.”
“Small world sometimes.”
“Or very big.” Her words seemed to hang on the air. She wasn’t quite sure what she’d meant, except that maybe now the world seemed more threatening than it had before Kevin. Into her small world, evil had come, a kind of evil she had once thought would never intersect with her life.
“Yeah,” he said presently, “it can be.”
As if he understood. Perhaps he did.
“I … tried to get away from him,” she offered. God, it was so hard to speak of it. “He kept following. I moved three times, and he found me every time, and now …” Her voice broke. She couldn’t continue.
“You’re away from him now.”
“Yes. Now.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “But for how long?”
For a long time there was no sound but the crackling fire and keening wind. Then he asked, “You moved three times? Different towns?”
“Different states.”
He swore. She jerked her head back, feeling the inescapable stab of fear, then relaxed when he didn’t move a muscle.
“That’s bad,” he said quietly.
“You can’t hide anymore,” she said. “Not anymore. Not with the Internet.”
“So it seems. And restraining orders might as well be written on toilet paper.”
“You can’t get one when you move to a new state. The judge asks where your proof is that he’ll follow you. So the last time I didn’t even try.”
He shook his head. “By the time the restraining order is broken, you’re already in too much trouble for it to do you much good.”
“Yeah. I’ve learned that the hard way.” She bit her lip, still clinging to the cocoa mug as if it were a lifeline. “That’s why I don’t want to let anyone know where I am. He’ll find me. He always does.”
He nodded but didn’t say anything. She watched his stony face, trying to read something there, but couldn’t. He was a man, and she ought to be frightened because Kevin had indelibly taught her that no matter how nice a guy might seem at first, he could turn into a monster.
But Clint Ardmore didn’t know her yet. She was new to him, so regardless of what kind of man he might be, it was still too early to have to fear him. And she would be gone before it reached that point.
At least that was what she needed to believe.
“Okay,” he said at last. “I won’t even call the sheriff. At least not tonight. We can talk more about it when you’re feeling a bit better.”
She hated that he sounded grudging, but there was no way she could ignore his concession, even if he didn’t want to make it. “Thank you.”
“As to this concussion … I’m no doctor, but there’s one thing I know for sure. I can’t let you sleep too long or too deeply tonight, so you’d better make up your mind that I’m going to be waking you often. And if that means shaking you, I will shake you.”
She didn’t want to be touched. Not by anyone. Fear clogged her throat, even though she understood the sense of what he was saying. “I … only if you have to.”
“Only if I can’t wake you by banging a pot next to your ear.” Then he surprised her by lifting one corner of his mouth in an almost-smile. “Can you live with that?”
“I think so.”
“Don’t worry about attacking me,” he added, the smile deepening enough to seem almost real. “You already tried that and didn’t even put a scratch on me. So if you wake up frightened and strike out, it’s okay.”
That was meant to calm her? Yet in some odd way it did. “I don’t remember attacking you.”
“Most likely not. You were pretty out of it, between the concussion and hypothermia. But yeah, you tried to defend yourself even when you were weaker than a newborn kitten.”
He seemed to like that she’d defended herself, although she couldn’t imagine why. It did, however, make her feel better about herself. Even totally out of it, she’d put up a fight.
“Anyway,” he went on, “the blizzard alone should be enough protection for tonight. But I’ll make sure everything’s locked up tight. Don’t usually have to bother, but.” He left the thought unfinished and shrugged.
“Thank you.” It would make her feel safer. “And thank you for your hospitality.”
Now he looked distinctly uncomfortable. “I wouldn’t have left a stray cat out there tonight. Would have been inhuman.”
Now how did he mean that? She wished she could peer behind the emotionless facade of his face and get an inkling of how this man thought.
No, maybe not. Maybe she didn’t really want to know what went on inside him. Tomorrow she would be gone, as soon as the blizzard let up enough and.
“Oh my God!” The words escaped her before she could stop them.
“What?”
“I just realized. How am I going to get out of here?”
“I’ll take you to a bus or something when the roads clear.”
“No, you don’t understand! He took my purse. I don’t have any ID, no credit card, no money! Oh, God, I’m trapped!”
Just as she started to spiral into fresh panic, he stopped her with one word of command.
“No.”
She gaped at him. “What?”
“I said no. Don’t do it. Don’t wind yourself up. I can help you out with all of that. Trust me, you’ll be on your way again as soon as possible.”
From something in the way he said it, she believed him. He didn’t want her here any more than she wanted to be here.
It was a weird kind of hope, but it was a hope she had to cling to.
Besides, she reminded herself, she’d