by Brenda Novak
Putting out his cigarette, he climbed into the Hummer and pulled up to the turnout. He already had someone going to Vegas. He doubted Vanessa would really show up in St. George after using that town as a decoy. So if not Vegas or St. George, where might she be heading? His only other choice, if she was sticking to major highways instead of trying to hide in some backwater town in Nevada, was Utah.
He turned toward Salt Lake City. Hector could always call him if he was wrong.
EMMA GOT her crying son buckled up and moved into the passenger seat, where she immediately realized they were driving in the opposite direction than she’d assumed. “Where are we going?”
Preston checked his rearview mirror but didn’t answer.
“Is he following us?” she asked.
“Not that I can see.”
“That was close.”
“Too close. Now we can’t go directly to Salt Lake from here. If Manuel saw us at the gas station, we’d be too easy to spot along the road. We have to do something unexpected.”
“Like backtrack?”
“Exactly.”
“How far?”
“We’ll go the seventy or so miles to Eureka.”
“What’s in Eureka?” As far as Emma could remember, not much besides a junkyard, a café, a gas station and a couple of quaint churches.
“From there we’ll take 278 to Interstate 80. That way if he heads to Vegas, we’re fine. If he goes to Utah instead, we should still be fine, because we won’t be traveling on the same two-lane highway until Wendover. And we won’t be arriving in Salt Lake at the same time. It’s only a four-and-a-half hour drive from Ely.”
“And the drive we’re taking is…”
“I haven’t figured it out. Probably eight or nine hours at least. But I think it’s worth it to go around, don’t you?”
She couldn’t believe Preston was changing his precious agenda for their sake. She couldn’t believe he’d come back for them at all. “I thought you were in a hurry to reach Iowa.”
He scowled at the reminder. Then he glanced over his shoulder at Max, who was still crying for his father, and she figured he probably regretted it already.
Emma nearly shushed her son, then changed her mind and turned to stare out the window. She didn’t have the heart to ask one more thing of Max. Of course he was sad. He didn’t understand what was happening, only that he’d been ripped away from his father before he could even say hello.
She hated what leaving Manuel meant for her son. But every time she went over the situation, she could see no other way. Even if she could take parting with Max, she couldn’t abandon him to Manuel and the future he’d have if she did. And Manuel was not the kind of man to share nicely.
“Max?” Preston said a few moments later. He adjusted the mirror so he could see her son, but Max wouldn’t answer him. “I got something for you.”
Surprised, Emma twisted in her seat to witness her son’s reaction. Max still didn’t answer, but his crying turned into an occasional hiccup.
“What is it?” he finally asked.
“Some candy I found at the grocery store when I was looking for the two of you.”
“I can’t have candy,” he said.
He knew he could have candy occasionally, but he was too busy sulking to acknowledge it.
“This is sugar-free,” Preston told him.
Sugar-free didn’t mean carbohydrate-free, and it was the carbs that mattered with diabetes. But Emma wasn’t about to spoil the moment. Max had liked Preston from the start. This small overture of friendship might just cheer him up.
“What kind of candy is it?” Max asked.
“Gummi Bears.”
There was a slight pause. “I like Gummi Bears.”
“I figured you might.” Preston glanced at her. “Is it something he can have right now?”
It was dinnertime, but that was the least of Emma’s worries. She nodded, and Preston took the bag out of a compartment in the console.
Emma read the carbohydrate totals on the package so she could include them in Max’s meal plan, then opened the Gummi Bears and passed them back without even attempting to ration.
At this windfall, her son’s sniffling stopped completely. Emma tried to smile at how easy to please a child could be. One bag of candy, and the world was good again. But she couldn’t smile. She was fighting tears. She’d made it through the close call at Garnet Mercantile, the panic of trying to get back to the motel, her guilt over Max’s insulin shock, the nerve-wracking hours in that damn phone booth, and the fear of coming nose-to-nose with Manuel at the Gas-N-Go, all without a single tear. Yet she was crying now, over a simple bag of candy.
It wasn’t really the candy, though. It was the fact that Preston had thought of Max in that grocery store. It was having a friend when she needed one most.
“Thanks,” she muttered, and averted her face so Preston wouldn’t notice her watery eyes. She knew she hadn’t fooled him when he touched her arm.
“You okay?”
She nodded.
“Emma?” He didn’t sound convinced.
“I’m fine,” she said. “How did you find us?”
“Amelia Granger.”
She turned back, even though she was still trying to blink away the tears she didn’t want Preston to see. “How did you come across her?”
“I knew you were searching for a car and that you hadn’t gone to the dealership. So I called every ad in the paper. When I got to Amelia, she said she’d spoken to you earlier and was just getting ready to meet you at the Gas-N-Go.”
“She never came.”
“I told her to hang on so I could swing by and take a look at the car.”
“What made you think I might’ve called about her ad? She was asking forty-eight hundred for her car. You don’t think I have that much money, do you?”
“I started with the cheapest cars and worked my way up.”
Which was pretty much what she’d done, so it probably hadn’t take him long to realize he was on the right track. “I was going to trade her my earrings.”
“How much are they worth?”
“Ten thousand dollars.”
“It wouldn’t have been a good trade.”
“Why not? The car’s a Mercedes.”
He cocked a challenging eyebrow at her. “Do you know how many miles a Mercedes would have to have on it to cost so little?”
She didn’t. Manuel had handled all their finances and brought home a new car for her almost every year. “The mileage wasn’t mentioned in the ad.”
“For good reason. That Mercedes had two hundred and fifty thousand miles on it and looked as though it’s spent the past few years doubling as a ranch truck. My guess is it would’ve stranded you in the desert.”
No wonder Amelia had been interested in her earrings. “So you came to get us instead,” Emma said.
He didn’t respond.
“How did you know Manuel was at the Gas-N-Go?”
“Max told me he drives a Hummer. It’s not like you see one of those on every corner, especially out here.”
Why did you come back? The biggest question of all remained unasked. But Emma didn’t want to broach that subject yet. She knew it would lead to why he’d left them in the first place and she wasn’t ready to talk about what had happened at the pool. She owed Preston an apology, but she’d only choke up if she tried to say the words right now.
“Have you had anything to eat since breakfast?” he asked.
Emma remembered the lunch the hotel manager had provided for Max. She’d been so concerned about Max getting enough to eat that she hadn’t dared take so much as a bite of his sandwich. With Manuel in town, she hadn’t dared go out, either.
“I haven’t been hungry,” she lied.
Preston’s eyes swept over her, but the appreciation she’d noticed when he was in the Jacuzzi last night was gone. “You’re too thin already.”
It bothered Emma that he thought so, but she couldn’t thin
k of one good reason it should, so she shrugged off her reaction. “I had a few extra pounds to shed.”
“Well, you can’t afford to lose any more,” he said. “We’ll stop in Eureka for dinner.”
ONCE HER STOMACH WAS FULL and Max had nodded off, Emma couldn’t keep her eyes open. She felt guilty letting Preston do all the driving. Especially now that he was going so far out of his way. But she’d offered to help, and he’d refused.
As she leaned her head against the door, the hum of the motor and the warp, warp, warp of the tires worked better than a lullaby. She was afraid that after eating so late, Max’s blood sugar might be too high to go through the whole night without more insulin. But she couldn’t test him and make any adjustments until the fast-acting insulin she’d administered at dinner had done all it was going to do, which would take about three hours. Then she could get a better indication of whether or not she needed to give him another injection.
“I’ll check him when we stop.”
“What?” Preston said.
Emma hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud until he questioned her. Obviously, she was half-asleep already. “Nothing. Nudge me if you need a break.”
Preston had been quiet at dinner but not resentful, like before. He’d helped with Max, insisted she eat more than she wanted and picked up the tab. Being with him was actually enjoyable—until the waitress told him they were a beautiful family. Then he withdrew.
“I’ll be fine,” he told her. “We’ll get to Salt Lake before too long.”
And then what? Emma wanted to ask, but after the day she’d spent, she couldn’t face the answer. He’d drop them off at some motel, the way he had last night.
At least Salt Lake was a lot bigger than Ely. She and Max could hide there, take a day or two to rest, buy some underwear and a change of clothes, figure out how to move on.
“Any budget motel will do,” she murmured.
“What?”
“When you drop us off.” With a brief yawn, she fell into the first dreamless sleep she’d had in a long time.
WHEN YOU DROP US OFF…
Preston frowned at Emma’s sleeping form and shook his head. He couldn’t drop them off. He’d been trying to ever since they’d met, but something always brought them back together. At this point it’d be better to drive them all the way to Iowa. They might make the trip more difficult, slow him down a bit—this little detour was costing him probably five hours—but he felt the precaution was justified. He could make sure they arrived safely in the Midwest, and then, when they parted, there’d be no guilt, no second thoughts, no doubts.
He just hoped putting several states between them and the man he’d met at the Hotel Nevada would be enough. Manuel seemed pretty determined.
The miles to Carlin and Interstate 80 from Eureka passed quickly. When Preston pulled off at a truck stop on the edge of Elko, Emma woke up. She tested Max’s blood and gave him more insulin while Preston filled the gas tank. Then Max and Emma fell back asleep and Preston drove on.
When they reached Wendover, it was midnight, and he was starting to get tired. His eyes burned, and his legs were cramping. But he decided to press on. Manuel could be any number of places, but if he’d headed to Salt Lake from Ely, he would’ve connected with Interstate 80 at Wendover. Although Preston hoped his roundabout approach had reduced any chance of meeting him, they could be on the same highway now, which made him cautious. Once they reached Salt Lake, he could relax. For one thing, he wasn’t sure Manuel was going to Salt Lake or that he’d know they’d be stopping there. And finding someone in a mall was difficult enough; in a big city like Salt Lake, locating Emma and Max without a good lead would be next to impossible.
But they weren’t in Salt Lake yet.
Passing through the salt flats seemed to take forever, partly because he was so exhausted and partly because the land deserved its name. It was absolutely flat—and monotonous. The only sign of civilization in well over an hour was the Morton Salt Factory, which sat out in the middle of nowhere, a dark, amorphous shape, half-hidden behind huge piles of salt waiting to be iodized and purified.
As they drew closer to Utah’s capital, the Great Salt Lake came up on their left. Its marshy, shallow water reflected the moon’s light, stretching as far into the distance as he could see, and he could smell mold. He remembered taking Dallas swimming in the Great Salt Lake, remembered how excited Dallas had been that he could float without a raft because the salt content created such buoyancy.
Tooele, a small community separated from Salt Lake City by a mountain range Preston couldn’t recall the name of, appeared next, off to the right. He’d never visited Tooele, but judging by the small cluster of lights, it wasn’t very big. He guessed it was like so many other Utah towns—originally settled by Mormon pioneers and organized on a grid, with small brick homes and plenty of well-tended gardens.
A smokestack stood at the point of the mountain like a sentry as they drove into Salt Lake City. He and Christy had occasionally visited the ski resorts in the area, but he hadn’t expected to feel such a bittersweet rush of familiarity.
He rolled down his window and waved his hand in the cool night air, wishing he and Christy had moved here that one year they’d briefly considered it. They’d been newly married, just out of college and not quite settled yet. But after growing up in Minnesota, Preston was in no hurry to deal with more snowy winters. While attending UC Berkeley, he’d grown comfortable in the Bay Area. And Christy was originally from San José, so she wanted to be near her family. They’d decided to stay in California, where Preston was hired on at Ebert & Cummings. The year after that, he was named Rookie of the Year and Dallas was born. Three years later he’d made his first million, and he and Christy had moved into a lovely home in Half Moon Bay. They had a good marriage, a child they adored, more success than they’d ever anticipated. Life couldn’t have been better.
Six months after that, the Wendells had moved in only three doors down.
Regret bit deeply as Preston rolled up his window. If only he’d insisted on that move to Utah…
Interstate 80 turned into a major freeway, which soon offered Preston several exits. He took 600 South. He and Christy used to stay in Park City, but that was an hour away in the wrong direction. Tonight, he headed into downtown Salt Lake in search of a hotel.
He was immediately presented with several to choose from.
Turning left on West Temple, he stopped at the Hilton and left Emma and Max sleeping in the van while he went to the front desk. He didn’t see any point in making her pay for a separate room. He was the one who’d chosen a hotel that was, no doubt, out of her price range, and they’d already shared a room once. He supposed another night or two in close company wasn’t going to matter.
After checking in, he returned to the van to find that neither Max nor Emma had awakened.
Preston watched her sleep. How had it come to this? Just a few days ago, he was completely on his own without so much as a dog to look after. Now he had a woman and a child traveling with him.
Remembering how she’d staggered beneath her son’s weight at Maude’s Cozy Comfort Bungalows, he cursed softly. She’d never be able to lift Max right now, not without spending several minutes waking up and gathering her strength.
He swung his duffel bag over one shoulder, released Max’s seat belt and lifted the boy into his arms.
As Max settled against his chest, a powerful yearning nearly brought tears to his eyes. The soft, boneless feel of the child’s body, even the smell of good old-fashioned dirt in his hair and on his clothes, made Preston curve his other arm around to hold him close. God, he felt good. His weight was just right, nearly the same as Dallas’s.
Preston buried his face in Max’s neck. I miss you, Dallas. I miss the messes you used to make, the food you used to waste, the loud cartoons that used to get on my nerves when I was trying to talk on the phone, the baseballs and soccer balls and basketballs all over the house—
Th
e van door creaked. Mortified to be caught at such a vulnerable moment, Preston jerked his head up. Emma was blinking at him, but she didn’t act as though she’d seen him hugging her child. She was too busy struggling to get her bearings. “I—I didn’t realize we’d stopped. Are we in Salt Lake?”
“Yes.” He held her son farther away in an effort to stem the powerful emotions surging through him.
She stumbled out of the van and squinted at the building looming behind them. “This is…”
“A hotel,” he supplied.
“It’s the Hilton.”
“That’s right.”
He expected her to say something about the cost of staying here, but she bit her lip instead.
Despite his irritation with the whole unfortunate situation, Preston found himself smiling. He couldn’t believe he’d ended up in the middle of such a mess, that he’d walked away once and come back, that he was standing here carrying her kid so she wouldn’t have to. But he had to admit she had the kind of face that could make a man do almost anything. And she had an elusive, beguiling innocence about her. No wonder Manuel was chasing her and Max all over Nevada.
She looked momentarily confused by his expression, but gave him a brief smile in return. Then she seemed to recognize that they had no reason to be staring at each other and glanced away.
“Okay, let me get a room,” she said. “I’ll take him in a minute so you can go.”
“I’ve already paid for the room.”
“I see. Well, that was nice of you. I’ll pay you back.”
“Just grab your purse and my laptop. I’ve already got my duffel bag.”
Her sleepiness seemed to fall away as she riveted her eyes to his. “Your duffel bag? Your laptop?”
“I’m taking you and Max with me to Iowa,” he said, and strode off ahead of her.
EMMA FELT GOOD for the first time in a long while. This classy hotel room was more the type of place she was accustomed to staying in. And although he was out of fresh laundry, Preston had lent her the T-shirt he’d worn today, along with the boxers she’d slept in last night, so she was temporarily rid of the pinching elastic of her swimsuit. Max’s glucose levels were fine; he was sleeping soundly. Preston was in the opposite bed, only an arm’s length away. And much as she didn’t want to admit it, she liked being with him. He made her dream of escaping Manuel a stronger possibility. But that wasn’t all. When she remembered the way he’d kissed her—or even smelled his scent on the T-shirt that had still been warm from his body when she pulled it on—she felt a riot of butterflies in her stomach. She’d never experienced anything remotely similar. Which meant she had to be careful not to get herself into another bad situation. She already knew Preston wasn’t anything like Manuel, but he had his own issues, especially where Max was concerned.