“Mmm. A fresh caught walleye sounds really good right now.”
“Maybe when we get home, you can come over for supper, and I can show off my skills with a frying pan and a bunch of fresh herbs.”
Abby tucked away a smile and planted her eyes on the ground. Had she really just invited Cal over to her house for dinner? It was a normal gesture of friendship, so why not? Cal had been nothing short of kind since the first moment they arrived at the bank. And when she told him about the adoption, he had been unfailingly positive in his support. And yet... Cal claimed that he was interested in clearing the air and making a new start. Should she risk asking him about a couple of remarks he had made during his first few months in Dagger Lake?
She pressed her lips together and decided to go for it. “So, Cal. I’m really happy that we decided to be friends, especially given all that we’ve been through together tonight. But there is one thing...” She paused. Her grievances seemed so petty, but his comments still rankled. “When you first came to town, I overheard you referring to me as a fashionista.”
“Hmm,” Cal said. “That happened so long ago I can hardly remember. But I suppose I was surprised about the high heels you sometimes wore to work. But honestly, Abby? You need to cut me some slack here. The paramedics I worked with on my last job wore gray jumpsuits, and you always looked so posh and pulled together. Besides, how was I to know that you were skulking in the shadows, committing my offhand remarks to memory?”
“First of all, I wasn’t ‘skulking’ anywhere. I was standing by my car, so you should have realized that I could hear everything you said.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t actually realize you heard me, but I agree that was rude.”
Abby pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Cal didn’t know it, but that particular remark wasn’t the only negative comment of his that she had overheard in the weeks after he had arrived in town.
The very next week after he had made that fashionista comment, she had also heard him refer to her home town as a Podunk place that rolled up the sidewalks at 7 p.m.
Okay. Looking back, she’d concede that maybe her reaction was a bit thin-skinned. But she loved Dagger Lake. She had grown up here, and years ago, members of the tribal community had funded a scholarship to help her become a paramedic. Without their assistance, she’d still be waiting tables at the local diner with no chance of achieving her dream. No wonder she felt defensive when anyone disparaged her hometown.
And as much as she loved it, she knew that Dagger Lake wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea. In fact, it sometimes felt as if the place was shrinking right before her eyes as more and more people picked up and moved away. A handful of her cousins had left town. So had her favorite teacher from high school and her first partner on the job. They had all gone in search of better opportunities in bigger cities in the Midwest. Fargo. Minneapolis. Sioux Falls. It was easy to imagine, given Cal’s remarks, that he would be quick to follow.
“Now that you’ve been in town for two years, do you plan to stick around?”
He shot her a look. “I just bought a house, so it looks like it. Why?”
“Just wondering,” she said. “Because I also sort of overheard you say that Dagger Lake was a Podunk place that was out in the sticks.”
Cal chuckled softly. “Did I really say that? Well, it’s true, isn’t it? But that doesn’t mean I don’t like it here. I like it a lot. And I certainly didn’t intend to hurt your feelings by criticizing your town.”
She couldn’t hide the smile forming on her lips. “No problem. I just wanted to clear the air.”
“Consider it cleared. Is that it? Or are there any other comments of mine that you just happened to overhear? I hate to think that there might be a whole, long list of goofy things I said when I didn’t think anyone was listening.”
“No. That’s it. I just wanted to go forward with a clean slate since we’re planning to be good friends.”
“Good friends, huh? Glad to hear that I’ve been promoted. But I’ve got to say that you have me wondering if my tendency to talk without thinking was the reason you didn’t show up for our date?”
Abby flushed. “No. I told you. I canceled because of what was happening with Davey.” She smiled. “But those comments did make it easier to flake out without offering an excuse.”
Cal shook his head. “Well, let me say once again that I’m very sorry for being so thoughtless. It’s something I’ve been working on in the past year. I’ve been trying to stop shooting off my mouth at the slightest provocation. Please accept my apology on both counts.”
“Consider it done,” she said. “And I hope you’ll agree to forgive me for leaving you waiting at the restaurant.”
“Absolutely,” he said. “The way it worked out was probably for the best.”
“Agreed,” she said.
So that was that, then. They were both on the same page. Cal wasn’t interested in a romantic relationship, and neither was she. But how to explain the strange feeling of disappointment pinging in her heart?
But she couldn’t think about that now as the path narrowed again, and Cal stepped back to walk behind her, allowing her to once again lead the way.
It was eerie being out in the woods with just Cal and the baby. After so many hours trapped in the bank, the adrenaline rush of Isobel’s labor and delivery and the frantic escape through the roof, the hushed stillness of the forest was unnerving. Each step was slow and laborious, but she steadied her breathing and persevered. She could feel her blood coursing through her body, and her heart thudded in her chest. Her limbs ached from the exertion, but at least she was no longer cold. A thin sheen of sweat clung to her arms and legs. The warmth was an odd sensation, especially since she could barely feel her toes.
The strangeness of the experience served to tighten her resolve about her plans for the future. Once things got back to normal—once the kidnappers were apprehended and the baby was safe—she’d follow through on her invitation to have Cal over for dinner. Even though neither of them was interested in dating, that didn’t mean that they couldn’t become friends.
Wow. If twenty-four hours ago, someone had told her that she would actually be looking forward to spending time with Cal Stanek, she wouldn’t have believed it. But, now, it was hard to remember how awkward things used to be between them.
Some of the blame for that could be fixed on her brother and several other well-meaning acquaintances who had micromanaged that unsuccessful first date. Though she supposed she couldn’t blame them for trying. There had been an initial attraction, at least on her part. The first time she had seen Cal, he was standing on her brother Gideon’s dock, holding a stringer of perch in his outstretched hand. She had heard rumors about the new Sheriff in town, that he was tall, dark and handsome. Easy on the eyes, if you liked the type. She wasn’t sure about that, but she certainly had been intrigued when her brother invited her over to meet his new friend.
And Cal sure did make a good first impression. Dark hair, keen eyes and a killer smile that made her feel like she was the most fascinating person in the world. The cotton tee he was wearing did nothing to hide his broad shoulders and strong arms. And when he stepped forward to shake her hand, a jolt of electricity had shot through her fingertips.
Of course, that wasn’t enough to alter her view of marriage or romance. Especially in the weeks that followed their first meeting on the dock when Cal’s thoughtless comments caused her to become even more wary of the widowed sheriff. But, now, those feelings of guardedness had been put to rest, and she was grateful for Cal’s support of her decision to adopt Davey Lightfoot.
Still, she couldn’t help but worry that she was getting ahead of herself, talking so much about Davey. If only she could be sure the adoption would really happen. It would be wonderful to finally bring Davey home, though it wouldn’t be without its challenges. Davey had be
en diagnosed with a few learning issues, which would require constant attention and care. But she knew all that when she filed her application. And she was all in on being there for Davey.
Her own mom had not been an especially good role model. Darla Marshall had never been a particularly maternal person, but without the anchor of her husband, she abandoned all parental responsibilities. Not that Abby completely blamed her. It had to be a challenge to lose a spouse, to have her whole world destroyed and to start over as a widow with two young kids. But if her mother had taught her anything, it was what not to do, and she was determined to harness everything in her power to be a real parent for Davey. Between her job and her new son, her life would be full.
She took a deep breath and pushed forward. The trek through the forest had been a long slog with no end in sight, and she was starting to feel discouraged. Had she really told Cal that they would reach the road in less than sixty minutes? It felt like they had been walking hours. She wanted to turn around and offer to take the baby, but she forced herself to forge ahead.
Then, suddenly, without warning, the ground evened out, and her feet gave out from under her as she pitched forward into a wide drift of wind-tossed snow.
“Are you hurt?” Cal stood above her, looking down.
She laughed. “Not at all. It was a soft landing.” She lay still for a moment, enjoying the plush pillow of flakes that had cushioned her fall. It felt good to rest. But the sound of the soft cries coming from the bundle in Cal’s arms snapped her back to reality. Her senses charged to high alert as she glanced up and realized that they were no longer under the canopy of the trees. Without realizing what was happening, she had tumbled down the last few feet of the trail and landed on the shoulder of Highway 101.
“Look!” She pulled herself up, brushed the snow off her coat and pointed toward the road. “We did it!”
“You did it.”
Tears of gratitude stung her eyes. She turned around and smiled at Cal, or rather a snow-covered shape that resembled the sheriff. White flakes clung to his jacket and pants and even the stubble along his face and jaw. But his eyes blazed back at her with eagerness and impatience.
“Let’s go find shelter,” he said with a smile. He charged forward with renewed energy, as if the treacherous journey through the woods had not winded him at all. She let him take the lead, grateful for the respite. Pulling in a deep breath, she summoned up her last bit of stamina and followed him down the road.
* * *
Abby had done it. She had led them through a blinding snowstorm and along the steep path to the road. Cal glanced backward, and noticing that she was a few paces behind, he slowed his stride so she could catch up. She had to be exhausted. He certainly was. His legs throbbed, and his left arm was cramped and stiff from holding the baby. But he had also never felt more alive.
And right here. Right now. This was his clarifying moment. He felt content. He felt sure that God had a plan to keep them safe for the journey ahead. He was going to give his all to protect the baby in his arms and the feisty woman trudging behind him.
He turned his head again. Abby’s head was bent low as her feet followed his footsteps along the road. Snow clung to her dark hair, and she looked almost fragile against the desolate landscape. As if reading his thoughts, she lifted her head and caught his stare. She squared her shoulders and raised her chin.
Cal turned back around. Message received. She was just as tough as he was. Which he knew already.
Wait! He froze. What was that? The low hum of an approaching vehicle caught his ear. His heart jackknifed in his chest.
“Abby! Quick! We need to take cover!”
“What?” Her eyes were focused downward at the ground under their feet.
“Cover! Now!” He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the side of the embankment. He shot a quick glance back toward the road. Would the driver notice their footprints? No. The gusting wind had already dusted the tarmac with enough snow to cover their tracks.
He handed Abby the baby and crouched down beside her.
“Ricky,” she whispered. The word cut like a dagger in the cold, night air.
The whir of an engine splintered through the stillness of the night. The vehicle would be passing them at any moment. The drifts at the top of the gully provided sufficient cover to allow them to watch for approaching headlights. Cal tensed his legs, ready to rush toward the road and flag down a vehicle other than a black SUV.
A second later, the icy tarmac was illuminated by a black Land Rover. Even at a distance, he could see the tinted windows and the out-of-state front plates. The SUV was coasting along slowly, and its speed diminished as it approached their hiding spot. He racked his brain to anticipate every eventuality. If the vehicle stopped, Abby should run toward the forest while he tried to buy them time. Doing what he wasn’t certain. His free hand dug into the snow and searched for something, anything, he could use as a weapon. His fingers closed around a large rock. He gripped the stone, waiting for the telltale crunch of tires pulling to the side of the road. After a few more seconds, the drone of the engine grew fainter, and the beams of the headlights disappeared from sight. He waited a moment longer and then sat up.
Abby pulled herself up next to him, clutching the baby tightly in her arms.
“They didn’t see us. But what are the chances that they’ll guess where we’re headed?”
He had been wondering the same thing. He glanced down at the baby. There was a bluish hue to his nose and cheeks.
“The pumps aren’t lit up or operational. And the convenience store isn’t visible from the highway. There’s a good chance they’ll pass it by and not see a thing.” He sounded a lot more confident than he felt. But he wanted to focus on the positive. “We can only hope that they’re headed north, and if they circle back, they’ll choose to follow another road. No matter what, we need to get this little guy out of the cold and warm him up.”
“Here. Wait a moment.” Abby bent down and scooped up a handful of snow, cupped her hands together and held them toward the infant. The baby screwed his mouth into a look of displeasure as the cold wetness came in contact with his face. But a moment later, his lips pursed out and he began to suck at the snow in Abby’s hand. They waited a few minutes until he had finished drinking, and then Abby brushed her hands off.
“It isn’t as good as mother’s milk, but it will keep him from getting dehydrated.”
Cal nodded. His heart was still thudding in his chest, but it was hard to tell whether it was from their narrow escape or from observing Abby’s tenderness.
“Right, let’s keep going.” His voice sounded husky to his own ears. A moment later, he paused and pointed toward a building in the distance. “Look. At long last, we’ve reached our destination.”
There was no sign on the outside, but everyone in Dagger Lake knew the gray-bricked, one-story building as One Duck Shop, convenience store and gas station all in one. The place looked deserted with no sign of a black Land Rover anywhere near.
Still, it was best to be careful.
There was always the chance that the driver had parked the vehicle somewhere down the road and that Ricky and the others were inside the store, lying in wait.
And if that was the case, he needed to stay alert and be ready. He held fast to the stone in his hand. It would hardly be effective against the kidnappers’ guns, but it was the best he could do at the moment.
EIGHT
Abby followed behind Cal as they made their way up the slippery embankment toward the road. Twenty yards ahead of them, the snow-covered gas pumps of One Duck Shop beckoned them forward like ghostly sentinels guarding the station. The coast seemed to be clear, at least for the moment. Trailing behind Cal, she quickened her steps as they approached the front of the store.
Cal put a hand on her arm and gestured toward the woodpile by the far side of the building. “You ta
ke the baby and wait over there while I check for fresh tracks around the perimeter.”
“Okay,” she breathed back. “The store closed at seven last night, and it won’t open back up again until nine in the morning. The pumps are shut down for the night, so no one should be around. But be careful. Okay?”
Cal turned and winked at her. She got the picture. Of course, he’d be careful. He was, after all, the sheriff.
She crouched down next to the woodpile and watched for Cal’s signal. It was hard to believe that only yesterday, she had stopped here for gas on the way into town to run a couple of errands. At the time, she was waiting for a status report of her petition to adopt Davey Lightfoot, so she had kept her phone within easy reach, tucked in the outer pocket of her coat.
And here she was, a little more than a dozen hours later, huddled ten feet from that same pump, still not sure what was going on with the adoption.
Her mind flashed for a minute on an image of Davey the first time they met. She had been on duty when the request came in for medical assistance for an elderly patient who had fallen down the stairs. Davey was only two years old, but with his grandfather injured and his grandmother in bed recovering from a stroke, he was the one who answered the door. There he stood, in his yellow footie pajamas, his long, dark hair falling into his huge, worried eyes. A rush of maternal love surged through her body. Most kids would have been reduced to tears by the crisis, but Davey was so brave, toddling down the hallway, clutching a tattered blanket as he led the emergency responders to the spot at the bottom of the stairs. He didn’t say a word, just stood by quietly as his grandfather was loaded on a gurney.
Come to think of it, Cal had been there that night, too. In fact, he had been the one to notify Davey’s social worker about the accident and to ask her to find someone to stay with the family while the grandfather recovered at the hospital. She had forgotten about that.
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