Читать книгу Baby On The Run - Kate Little - Страница 7

Chapter Two

Carey woke slowly. She realized she’d been dreaming. A frightening dream she had often. She is always alone, walking down an empty street at night. Someone is following her, she turns and can’t see anything. She walks faster, then runs. Suddenly, they are right in front of her and reach out to grab her. She can feel a painful cold grip on her body, a touch like ice.

She fights back and screams…

Then wakes up.

“Hey…wake up. You’re dreaming. It’s okay…”

Her eyes finally opened and she blinked. Ben was crouched near her chair, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder, his face very close. He’d been shaking her awake, she realized.

She sat up suddenly, feeling embarrassed as he stood up and looked down at her.

“You had a bad dream.”

She pushed her hair back with her hand. “I guess so… I can’t remember it now,” she lied.

“I shouldn’t have let you sleep in that chair. It doesn’t look very comfortable.”

“It wasn’t the chair,” she assured him.

He met her gaze again but didn’t answer. He walked over to the stone hearth and tossed another log on the fire. The flames jumped and glowed, filling the room with a sudden flash of light.

“I fixed a little bed for Lindsay. I hope you don’t mind. I was afraid she might slip off your lap and I didn’t want to wake you.”

She sat up suddenly, the blanket falling from her shoulders. Her baby was no longer in her arms. She hadn’t even realized it…

“Don’t worry. She hasn’t gone very far,” Ben reassured her.

Carey looked down at her feet and found Lindsay snug and soundly asleep in her car seat, tilted back and covered with a soft blanket.

“Thank you. She looks very comfortable.”

He stood up and smiled down at her, looking quietly pleased by her compliment.

“Are you hungry? I made a bite to eat. It isn’t much, just what I could find in the refrigerator.”

“I could eat anything right now,” she admitted.

She hadn’t eaten since breakfast. She stood up and followed him to the kitchen, forcing herself not to make a mad dash.

A few minutes later, she was seated at the table beside Ben, relishing spoonfuls of thick, hot beef noodle soup and eyeing the grilled cheese sandwich he’d set down beside her bowl.

Neither of them spoke and Carey forced herself to eat at a slow, polite pace.

“This is great soup,” she said between spoonfuls. “It tastes homemade.”

“My freezer is stocked with takeout containers from the hotel restaurant. Guess I’m the best-fed single guy in town.”

And probably the most chased after, Carey silently added for him. But the stocked freezer explained one reason why none of the local single females had caught him yet.

Carey did wonder at the rest of the story.

“I made the sandwich. Just don’t look too closely,” he warned.

Carey glanced at the grilled cheese, golden on one side, burned to a crisp on the other.

“Not a problem. I’m so hungry, I’ll eat anything.”

“A clean room, some heat…eats anything you put down in front of her. You’re not very hard to please, are you?”

She stared down at her plate and didn’t answer. She had her reasons these days for setting low standards. Though she’d never really been fussy or demanding. It just wasn’t her nature.

“It makes life easier,” she said finally, forcing a small smile.

“It does,” he agreed. “Though not everyone sees it that way.”

He didn’t say more. A shadow passed over his expression, dimming his brilliant eyes. She wondered what he was remembering. Some other woman who had sat here once, right where she was sitting now? Some woman who had been difficult to please?

Carey took a few bites of her sandwich. It wasn’t bad at all. Not nearly as bad as it looked. Ben rose and took the soup bowls away.

“Would you like some coffee?”

“Coffee would be great. Just black is fine for me.”

“No frills. I should have guessed that.” His voice was serious, but Carey noticed a teasing light in his eye. He poured out the two mugs of coffee and carried them into the living room so that Carey could check on the baby.

Lindsay was still sleeping soundly in her makeshift bed. Carey sat down on the floor next to her and stared into the fire. Ben put another log on the burning pile and stirred up the embers until the fire flared up, bright and strong.

He stretched out on the floor not too far from her. Leaning on one arm, he sipped his coffee and stared into the hearth.

Carey had been watching the fire, but now, could hardly take her eyes off her host. He looked so long and lean, so relaxed…and sexy. She hugged her knees to her chest and took a bracing sip of her coffee.

“Have you lived around here long?” Her voice came out in a croak and she hoped he didn’t notice.

Okay, so she didn’t sound like the most witty conversationalist, but she was eager to break the heavy silence that had fallen between them.

“I’ve lived here most of my life. I had two years in the navy and then went to college in North Carolina. I lived down there for a while. But finally, I came back to Maine.”

“All those mild winters start to wear on you?”

A half smile played about the corners of his mouth. A dimple creased his cheek and tiny lines fanned out at the corners of his eyes. She hadn’t noticed that before.

“That was part of it. No challenge. And it never felt like Christmas.”

Carey had spent the holidays in the Caribbean once. Her late husband’s idea. Ben was right. It hadn’t felt like Christmas at all.

“I came back three years ago. My father was sick and my folks needed my help.”

She wasn’t surprised. He seemed like the type who would do the right thing. Put aside his own needs to help someone he loved.

“When did he pass away?” she asked quietly.

“About a year after I returned.” She heard the note of loss in his voice and it struck a chord within her. That was something else they had in common.

“But you stayed.”

He shrugged. “It’s a small town, but I guess it suits me. For now, anyway.”

Maybe with his father gone, his mother and sister relied on him even more. But she sensed he was too private—or too modest—to admit it.

“I get to be the star of the Greenbriar police force,” he added, a sparkle returning to his eyes.

“So I’ve heard.” She met his glance and smiled. She didn’t mean to flirt with him…but it suddenly felt as if she was.

“What about you?” he asked curiously.

The light moment was suddenly gone. She pulled back into herself like a turtle retreating into its shell.

“You said you were headed to Portland. Where are you coming from?”

She couldn’t stray too far from the truth. Her car had Vermont plates. Surely he’d noticed. He was a policeman. But she did need to protect herself, in case those who pursued her ever found this man and asked him questions.

“Burlington.” She gave the name of a town miles on the opposite side of the state from Blue Lake. Then, realizing that a route from Burlington to Portland wouldn’t have taken her through this area, she added, “I went up to Freeport to visit a relative. A great-aunt. She… She wanted to see the baby.”

Carey smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, trying to cover a sudden fit of nerves.

“So your friends in Portland, are they expecting you for Christmas?”

Carey shrugged. “More or less. I’m really going there for a job. They own a store and need some help. Someone they can trust.”

Did she have to add that last embellishment? Keep it simple, Carey. That was the trick to getting away with all these fabrications.

Stick to your story. If anyone asked—she was going to Portland because a friend had offered her a job in his store, a clothing store. Period.

Ben sipped his coffee. She hoped he was finished with his questions. Under other circumstances, having such an attractive man asking all these questions about her would have been a real ego boost. Tonight it was nerve-racking.

“What sort of work do you do?”

She shrugged. “I’ve tried just about everything. I’ve been a waitress, a cabdriver, a receptionist, a dog walker…I’ve worked in department stores. I’ve worked in a flower shop. I liked that, but my allergies got to me. I’ve handed out free samples in supermarkets. Once I had to dress up as a giant cookie, in a shopping mall…” She paused. “Do you really want to hear more?”

“Is there more?” He smiled, looking impressed.

“More than I want to remember.” She paused, not knowing how much private information she wanted to disclose. Or how honest she dared to be with him about her real history. “I took some of those jobs working my way through college. I was studying literature. But I really wanted to be an actress. I went to New York for a while and did all the cattle-call auditions. That sort of thing. It didn’t work out for me, so I went back home.”

He gave her a thoughtful look. “I’m sure it’s a tough business. Very competitive.”

“Yes, it was. I don’t think I was thick-skinned enough. Or maybe, I lacked in the ambition department.”

He considered her words for a moment. “You’re definitely not lacking in the looks department.”

His gaze met hers and held it. She felt the heat rush to her cheeks and hoped he didn’t notice. Finally, she looked away, staring at the fire again.

“That’s nice of you to say.”

“It’s just the truth.”

Carey felt self-conscious. The way he was looking at her made heat rise to her cheeks. She hoped he thought it was just the fire.

“So, you went back home. Where is that?” he prodded.

She started to say, “Cleveland,” then caught herself.

“Scranton, Pennsylvania. Just outside of the city actually,” she embellished. “A small town called Wilkes Barre.”

“You grew up there?” he asked.

She nodded and forced a smile. She felt her heart beating so loudly, she was almost certain he could hear it. He was a policeman. Couldn’t he tell that everything she’d told him was a bald-faced lie? Well, maybe not everything…but enough of it.

She hated living like this and doubly hated the man who had brought her to this point, a point as low as he was himself. She knew it was wrong to hate another person. To wish them ill. But Quinn…

He wasn’t even a person. He was a heartless, conscienceless…monster.

She looked over at Ben, at his expression—kind, serious, interested. She had the sudden, insane urge to tell him everything. How she had been so vulnerable and easily exploited after Tom died. So naive and easily taken in and now, how she’d found herself stuck in a nightmare. One that would never end.

Would he understand? Would he try to turn her in…or try to help her?

“You look…upset. Am I asking too many questions?” His gaze found hers and held it. “I’m sorry. A policeman’s habit.”

The urge to pour out her heart nearly overwhelmed her. Then suddenly, she stepped back from the edge and got control of herself.

“It’s okay. I’m just tired… My husband died a little over a year ago. The holidays are hard.”

That wasn’t entirely a lie. Though if Tom were still alive Carey doubted they would still be married. After a whirlwind courtship, they had never been happily married and were about to separate when she’d found out she was pregnant. They decided to stick it out until the baby came and give it one more try.

Then Tom had died and she was left a widow, three months pregnant.

“That’s tough. I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “Was it sudden?”

Carey nodded. “An accident at a construction site.”

Tom had worked in the front office of Quinn’s construction company, a project manager. He’d been at a building site, gone up on scaffolding and had fallen off. He’d died instantly from his injuries. The autopsy found a high level of alcohol in his blood and there were witnesses who claimed he’d been drinking at lunchtime. Their insurance company was absolved from paying her anything more than a small death benefit.

She didn’t mind for herself, but there was the baby to think of. That’s when Quinn had stepped in. Swooped in, more like it.

When she’d first met Quinn, she’d thought he was a kind man. It was a dark time and, with no close family to help her, she’d taken the help Quinn had so generously offered. Money to tide her over until she was ready to work and a good job as a bookkeeper in the main office. Perhaps he’d been afraid that Carey was going to sue him for responsibility for the accident, but she wasn’t that type of person. Besides, lawsuits and lawyers cost money and she needed every dollar to support herself and Lindsay. Her pregnancy with Lindsay was difficult. She was sick all the time. She didn’t have any close family to help her and he’d insisted on helping her financially until she was able to work again.

Carey was alone in the world. Her father had left when she was very young. She’d never really known him and didn’t know now if he was dead or alive. Her mother had raised her in a loving home, though they’d never had much money. She’d been very proud when Carey graduated college and had high hopes for her only daughter. But she was killed in a car accident a few months later. Carey was devastated.

She could see now that was part of the reason she’d married Tom so quickly. He’d swept her off her feet, acting as if he couldn’t live without her. But once they were married, he’d grown bored and restless very quickly.

Looking back, Carey could see that she’d been very naive and vulnerable. Easily taken in by Tom and, later, by Quinn, who was older. He’d acted very fatherly toward her, though sometimes taking too great an interest in her personal life, wanting to have too much control.

After Lindsay was born, he offered her a job at his company, her office steps from his own. A good salary, flexible hours and she was even able to bring the baby with her whenever necessary. Quinn didn’t mind.

He doted on Lindsay and bought her every kind of toy and stuffed animal imaginable. He seemed to enjoy having her in the office. Carey thought of him as a loving uncle. Or even a father figure. She’d been very stupid and blind, never realizing how Quinn really thought of himself.

As Lindsay’s future stepfather.

No matter how gently or diplomatically she’d try to explain that she wasn’t interested in that kind of relationship, he still held out hopes. He still acted as if someday she’d change her mind. He was waiting for her to get over Tom’s death. Then her feelings for him would change, he’d say.

The only thing Carey wanted to change was her job. But it wasn’t that easy. She began to fear his reaction if she resigned. His reprisals to business rivals who he believed “crossed him” were chilling. Carey began to feel stalked by his obsessive interest, to be truly afraid of him and felt a prisoner under his ever-watchful eye.

She could save a little money out of her weekly paycheck, but never enough to escape. Still, she scrimped and saved for her freedom, knowing she could never tell him outright that she was leaving town. She’d hinted at it once and his reaction had been frightening. Of course, he was sorry afterward. So miserable and contrite, leaving a dozen roses on her desk, a snowsuit and stuffed toys for Lindsay, begging her forgiveness. Quinn needed help. Serious help for his mood swings and temper tantrums. But who in his circle had the guts to tell him? Not Carey.

Finally, Quinn went too far. She discovered that he was meddling in the books and tax records, in ways that were unethical, even illegal. She was afraid of his reaction, but confronted him anyway. Her conscience demanded it. As she expected, he flew into a rage, and threatened her.

He claimed she was culpable, too. She was handling a lot of the financial records, wasn’t she? She could never leave now because he’d use the improprieties against her.

Carey pretended to heed his warnings and played along, promising that she’d let him judge what was best for the business. But when she had a chance, she scraped up what little money she could, accepted help from friends and ran as far away from Quinn as she could manage.

She went to Chicago, figuring it would be the best place to disappear into a crowd. She also had a college friend who helped her find a job and get settled under a new identity. Her life was falling into place again.

The friends back in Ohio who helped her get away and stay hidden were Paul Newton and his wife, Nora. Paul was one of Quinn’s site foremen and kept Carey informed about Quinn’s activities. Quinn had been looking for her, Paul reported, but after a few months when her trail went cold, he seemed to give up or be distracted by more immediate concerns.

A few weeks ago, Paul reported that Quinn’s business practices, along with a mortgage company that he dealt with often, had come under investigation. He was indicted as part of a ring, charged with rigging fake mortgages and defrauding the bank of millions.

Carey learned that investigators for the prosecution were looking for her. They wanted her testimony and maybe even believed she’d been involved in the illegal deals, too.

Carey knew if she dared to come out of hiding and profess her innocence, and testify against Quinn, he would find a way to take revenge on her…and Lindsay. While her conscience urged her to offer her testimony, her instincts as a mother overruled. She didn’t dare risk putting her baby in danger.

She didn’t trust the authorities to believe her. Or protect her. The man was more than obsessive, he was insane. What if he wasn’t found guilty? Or wasn’t given a long prison sentence? He would come after her for sure. She couldn’t take that chance. So now she had both the legal authorities looking for her and Quinn’s private investigators.

If she stopped to think about it too much, it was hard to function…to keep going. To do what she had to do to survive…

Ben’s voice broke into her rambling thoughts. She could tell from his expression he thought she must have been lost in thoughts of her late husband.

“The holidays can be hard if you’re alone,” he said finally. “Everywhere you look, everyone seems so happy. If you don’t feel that way, you think something must be wrong with you. You feel so…out of sync.”

That was exactly the way she felt. Though in her case, it was even more complicated. He seemed to understand and feel the same. She wondered if he had any plans to celebrate Christmas Day or would avoid it by going to work. But she didn’t feel comfortable asking him.

“Would you like some more coffee?”

“No, thanks.” Carey shook her head and sat up.

It was wonderful to sit with him like this, talking and staring at the fire. She worried that if she sat much longer she’d get so relaxed, she’d end up giving all her secrets away.

“I think I’d better turn in. Before I fall asleep again in your living room.”

“You’re welcome to sack out anyplace you like. But I did put your things in the guest room and made up the bed with clean sheets. You should be comfortable there.”

He rose from the floor in a quick, agile motion, then stretched down his hand to her. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

Carey at first ignored his help, then reached up and put her hand in his. She needed a tug. She was bone-tired after her ordeal today and could barely move.

She came to her feet and they suddenly stood face-to-face, so close she could feel his breath stirring her hair.

He gazed down at her, studying her face. She tried hard to avoid looking into his eyes, but it was impossible.

He lifted one hand and touched her soft curly hair, pushing a strand back from her cheek. His hand lingered there for a moment, cupping her cheek. Carey knew he was about to kiss her and knew she ought to step away. But somehow, her feet wouldn’t move, stuck firmly in place. Somehow, her gaze wouldn’t break away from his as his head dipped and his face came even closer.

Her lips parted and she took in a deep breath, her eyes starting to drift closed.

Lindsay’s soft whimper broke the silence. They both stepped back and looked down at the baby. She’d been sleeping so peacefully all this time, Carey hadn’t fussed over her at all.

Carey knelt and checked the baby’s diaper, which was dry. Then she patted Lindsay’s back, murmuring softly to her. The baby was soon fast asleep again.

Ben leaned down and spoke in a whisper. “I’ll carry the car seat to your room. No need to wake her.”

“Good idea,” Carey whispered back.

Ben lifted the basket easily, baby and all. He headed for the stairway and Carey followed.

At the top of the stairs he turned left and led her to a small bedroom at the end of the hallway. A milk glass lamp on a small table by the bed cast the room in a soft glow. A full-size bed pushed against one wall took up most of the space. It was covered with a white-and-blue quilt with a traditional wedding ring pattern, a striped wool blanket folded at the foot of the bed and fluffy pillows.

A small white painted dresser and a rocking chair were the only other furnishings. The ceiling slanted with the eaves of the roof above, lending the room a cozy, warm feeling.

Carey saw that Ben had already brought up her duffel bag and other belongings and left them at the foot of the bed.

“Well…here you are. The bathroom is the next door down, on the right. My room is at the other end of the hall. If you need anything, just call me.”

As he spoke, he started to back out of the room. Carey watched from where she stood by the bed. He suddenly seemed nervous and she could guess why. The sight of the big empty bed made her acutely conscious of their attraction, too, and how he had just nearly kissed her… And now that they were alone together in this house all night long…

She imagined herself and Ben, lost in a rapturous embrace, rolling around on the big soft bed… Then she blinked to dispel the image.

Ben had been speaking, but she’d lost track.

“…well, good night. See you in the morning.” He stood in the doorway, his hands dug into the front pockets of his jeans, filling the space with his big body.

She started to take a step toward him, then decided it was best to say good-night from a safe distance.

“Thanks again for all your help. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t found us.”

He shook his head, embarrassed at her gratitude. “I’m just glad that you and Lindsay are okay. Good night, Carey…Merry Christmas.”

The soft, deep tone of his voice seemed to hold a note of longing, a single note that touched something deep within her.

“Good night, Ben.” She met his gaze briefly before he closed the door.