“Mom?”
She rushed to explain. “Remember when I told you that I had a plan, Kendal? That we were leaving?”
He darted a stunned look at Chase.
“This is it,” she confirmed. “We’re leaving now. Get in the boat, sweetheart. Hurry!”
Sara threw a leg over the rail.
But Kendal didn’t move. He looked back and forth between her and the stranger. “Who is he?” he wanted to know.
“He’s a Navy SEAL,” she answered. “He can protect us. Kendal, please get in the boat.”
The scowl on Chief McCaffrey’s face could have dissuaded even the most fearless individual. “We can’t miss this chance, sweetheart!” Sara pleaded, her heart pounding. “Hurry, before the others come back.”
Her urgency finally galvanized him. Kendal scrambled over the railing, stepping down into the boat before she’d thrown a second leg over.
“Sit on the bottom,” Chase instructed him.
Sara took that cue to position herself on the front seat.
No sooner were they in the boat than Chase launched them into the current. Stabbing his paddle into the stream, he swept them around the bend, taking them quickly out of view of the bridge. The tide was low, and the marsh provided concealment.
A cooling breeze dried the sweat on Sara’s upper lip. She glanced back at Kendal, who gripped both sides of the boat, his eyes wide and disbelieving. Behind him, their unlikely rescuer, wearing a baseball cap and cutoff T-shirt, kept a steady stroke on the paddle.
She wanted to thank him, only the frown wedged between his eyebrows kept her mute.
Her heart pattered with hope and fear. She glanced down at the ring pinched between her fourth finger and the canoe’s edge. If she didn’t think she might need to pawn it one day, she’d take it off right now.
They kept close to the mudflats, moving with such stealth that she could hear fiddler crabs scuttling between the reeds. A blue heron froze on one leg as they glided by.
Sara was just beginning to breathe more easily when they came across a pier and a lone fisherman. He lifted his gaze from a crab pot to greet them.
Chase pulled the bill of his baseball cap down as he nodded back. Plunging his paddle deeper, he whisked them out of the stranger’s sight.
It seemed an interminable amount of time before the canoe eased toward a forested shore. The SEAL drove the prow onto land and wedged the paddle into the mud to keep it there. “Hop out,” he invited.
Sara clambered out. She held the canoe to keep it from wobbling as Kendal, then Chase followed suit. The bark of a dog drew her gaze to a black Lab sitting in a familiar sports car, parked beneath the trees.
Chase pulled the canoe ashore and flipped it over. “Stand back.” With that brief warning, he delivered a swift kick to the underside, leaving a gaping hole. In a brisk, forceful move, he shoved the boat back into the cove, where it started to sink.
“Let’s go,” he said, heading toward the car. He opened the passenger door and flipped the seat forward. “You’ll have to sit with the dog,” he said to Kendal. “Back, Jesse.”
Kendal dove into the cramped rear seat. “Hey, boy.”
As Sara dropped into the front seat, Chase rounded the car to take the wheel. “Buckle up.”
With competence and speed that had her holding her breath, he backed them down the rutted track. They came to a clearing, where he reversed direction. And then they took off again.
The dirt track turned into a gravel one before spitting them out into the overflow parking lot. “I used to fish back there,” he explained in response to her wondering look.
That was why he knew about the cove, why he’d chosen it as a remote spot to get her into his car without witnesses. She shrank down in her seat, reluctant to be seen by the handful of visitors getting in and out of their vehicles.
Leaving the park, they merged smoothly into the traffic on Shore Drive. Sara sat up straighter and wiped her palms on her shorts.
“Hope you’ve got everything you need in there,” Chase commented, darting a look at her backpack.
“Yes,” she said, relieved that she’d planned for the unlikely.
He switched gears. “So, what made you think I’d even show up?” he demanded. The question betrayed an element of self-directed anger.
“I don’t know. I just couldn’t accept the alternative, I guess.”
That answer earned her a conjecturing look.
She glanced back at Kendal. “Oh, honey, you didn’t put your seat belt on.”
“The dog’s sitting on it.”
“Jesse, scoot,” Chase commanded, and the dog immediately made room.
Mother and son shared a look. The SEAL sure had his dog well trained. Kendal fastened his seat belt with a click.
It was then that the full impact of their departure hit Sara. Mr. Hale, the Boy Scout leader, was probably frantic right now, wondering what had happened to them. The authorities would soon be notified, then Garret. There was no going back now.
“We’re not going to stop anywhere, are we?” she asked on a note that betrayed her fear.
“No,” he said. Accelerating, he swept them up an exit ramp onto the highway that would lead them north and west, toward the Blue Ridge Mountains and beyond. In just three hours, or so, they’d be in the western half of Virginia, far from the search that would be taking place for them at Seashore State Park. She would breathe a whole lot easier then.
“Do you think that fisherman is going to be a problem?” she asked beneath her breath.
To her deepening concern, Chase didn’t answer right away. “He wasn’t there when I approached the rendezvous point. If he had been, I would have turned around.”
In which case, she never would have known that he’d intended to rescue her, after all.
“Thank you,” she murmured, thinking those two words fell woefully short. “I promise you won’t . . . regret it,” she added, forcing those words through a tight throat.
She was certain that he’d heard her, but he didn’t answer. It was probably too late, and he probably already did.
Chapter Three
For the next four hours, very little was said. The radio kept up a steady barrage of music and advertising. The highway unraveled before them like an endless, asphalt ribbon.
Chasing the sun westward, they arrived, at last, at the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains, where the cooler clime had already turned the trees to crimson and gold. The setting sun lit the peaks of the mountains in a blaze of color.
“Gotta love the mountains,” Chase finally said, breaking the silence.
“Yes,” Sara agreed, exhaling a sigh of relief that he was speaking again. With every passing hour, the fear that Garret would catch them diminished, but Chase’s brooding presence had kept her from relaxing.
“We’ll stop on the other side of Roanoke, near Bristol,” he indicated, turning down the radio.
Sara nodded her agreement. She’d been hoping for a potty break. “How long will that take?”
“’Bout two more hours.”
She glanced at Kendal, who squirmed in the backseat. Riding on roadways that weren’t absolutely flat, he had a tendency to get carsick. “How do you feel, honey?”
“Okay,” he said, but to her discerning eye that wasn’t the case.
“I brought your medicine,” she said rummaging in the backpack. “Oh, but I don’t have anything for you to swallow it with.” She started to put the medicine back.
“What’s that?” Chase asked.
“Dramamine. Sometimes he gets carsick.”
Garret had scoffed at Kendal’s condition. Surely a Navy SEAL would also view it as a weakness. But in the next instant, Chase was easing into the breakdown lane. “There’s water in the back,” he explained. He stopped the car, jumping out to fetch them each a bottle.
The considerate gesture was deeply reassuring. Kendal swallowed his pill, and they were off, climbing up into the mountains. But Chase had lapsed
back into silence.
“How many days does it take to get to Oklahoma?” Sara inquired. Could she endure that many hours with a brooding driver?
“Three days more or less,” he said shortly.
“Why are we going there?” Kendal asked in a sleepy voice. The Dramamine was having its usual effect on him.
“I’ll explain later, honey.” The less Chase knew, the safer it was for all of them. She looked out the window to avoid his quick glance.
Three days! She’d been so focused on getting away that she’d spared little thought as to what it would be like in the hours and days following their departure. The idea of being cooped up that long brought little relief to her nail-biting anxiety.
By the time they pulled into a roadside motel, it was dark, and her stomach was rumbling. Chase unlatched his seat belt.
“They’ll want a credit card imprint,” he said, as she tried to hand him some money. “I’m only gettin’ one room.”
With that, he was gone, notching Sara’s tension to the snapping point. She hadn’t considered that they would have to share a room.
Jesse whined, as eager to get out as she and Kendal were.
Minutes later, Chase reappeared. Guiding them along the shadows, he escorted them to their room, shut the door, and drew the curtains before flicking on the lights. Kendal stumbled sleepily toward the bathroom.
“I’ll be right back,” Chase said. “I’m gonna walk the dog and take a look around.”
As he slipped out again, Sara locked and latched the door. She turned and eyed the double beds. Was this forced intimacy just a means for him to take advantage of her? Surely not. He’d given her no reason to think he’d helped her for any reason other than human decency.
Besides, she knew what she looked like. She’d dressed this way intentionally for years. And for good reason.
Kendal came out of the bathroom, looking lost.
“Feeling better, sweetheart?” she asked. She crossed the room to catch his face between her hands. He was almost as tall as she was.
“Where are we going?” he demanded ignoring the question. “Not with him, I hope.”
“No,” she reassured him. “Chief McCaffrey is going to take us as far as Oklahoma,” she explained. “From there we’ll get a ride to Texas.”
“Why? What’s in Texas?”
The time had come to share her burning secret. “My real mother is in Texas. I was adopted, Kendal. Your father doesn’t know that.”
Kendal’s jaw dropped. His gaze flicked over her like he’d never really seen her before. “Cool,” he finally said. A glimmer of hope lit his eyes.
“That’s why this is going to work,” she insisted. “We’re going to start all over again, with new names and everything.”
“But what about all my stuff?” he asked with belated regret. “My PlayStation and my computer?”
“I’ll buy you new stuff,” Sara promised. “After we get settled and I get a job. It isn’t going to be easy, honey,” she admitted. “But it will be better. We’ll make our own decisions. We’ll do whatever we want without constantly having to worry whether we’ll upset your father.”
He gave her a searching look. “You would’ve stayed, wouldn’t you, if Dad hadn’t killed Mr. Whiskers?”
“I couldn’t stand to watch him hurt you,” she admitted.
“But he hurt you all the time.”
He’d noticed, then, despite her efforts to protect him. Hiding her stricken look, she kissed his cheek and moved past him, into the bathroom.
When she reemerged, Kendal was watching TV. Chase knocked on the door, and she went to let him in.
“Spotted a Super Kmart across the street,” he announced, letting Jesse off the leash. “I’m gonna run over there and get us what we need.”
Sara snatched up her backpack, pulling out two twenty- dollar bills. “Take this,” she said, holding out the money. “I need some scissors and some hair color.” She wanted something in a blond shade. “Maybe we should come with you?”
He took the money, sliding it into his pocket. “Not yet. Stay away from the windows, and keep the door locked,” he instructed. “Oh, and Kendal?”
Kendal lifted wary eyes at him.
“You mind feedin’ the dog for me? His food and bowl are in that plastic bag right there. Don’t forget to give him water.”
“’Kay,” the boy said, slipping off the bed.
With a wink at Sara, Chase was gone, shutting the door behind him.
Reassured by the wink, Sara drew the latch a second time. “I know he sounds rough, honey,” she said, as much for herself as for him, “but he helped us four years ago, back in California, when our car wouldn’t start at the library. Remember that?”
Kendal had been six years old, then. “No,” he said, dropping nuggets into Jesse’s metal bowl.
Sara plopped down on the edge of a bed and watched him carry the water bowl to the bathroom. It was obvious that Kendal didn’t trust the stranger helping them. She couldn’t blame him. Chase had been silently forbidding since his appearance at the park, not exactly the laid-back, considerate gentleman he seemed to be before.
Trust me, no one’s going to hurt you again, Kendal, she swore to herself, watching as he offered the dog water and petted his broad head.
An hour later, she had to wonder if she’d let him down already. In addition to the sandwiches that they’d wolfed down, Chase had bought a deluxe hair-cutting kit that included an electric shaver.
“We need to cut the boy’s hair,” he’d said to Sara.
She’d been so eager to start coloring her own hair that she’d agreed to his offer to do so. The bathroom door was left ajar, reassuring her further as she stood before the desk, using the mirror in the room to put dye in her hair.
Entering the bathroom fifteen minutes later, she found Kendal’s hair buzzed down to a smart, military cut.
“All set,” Chase said, whisking the boy’s neck and ears with a brush. Kendal winced at the dusting. Chase pulled the poncho off.
With the look of a wounded animal, Kendal pushed past his mother and went to flop down near the TV and sulk.
“It’ll grow out,” Chase called after him. He sent Sara an apologetic grimace. “Sorry ’bout that. I should’ve used a different size head,” he muttered.
“That’s okay.” The apology appeased her. Not once in eleven years had Garret ever apologized.
Skirting around Chase, Sara dropped to her knees beside the tub and stuck her head under the faucet.
Warm water sluiced by her ears. Yellow-brown dye rushed down the drain. She was conscious of Chase coming to stand behind her.
“You’re missing some,” he observed, and suddenly his hands were cradling her head, angling it under the stream to ensure that all the excess dye got washed out.
A gasp wedged itself into Sara’s lungs.
He was touching her, and she could feel the strength in his gentle fingers all the way down to her toes.
“All set,” he said, turning the water off.
Sara fumbled with the conditioning tube, squirting the white stuff into her palm and rubbing it briskly into her hair.
Before Chase could help her again, she rinsed it out, not bothering to wait the requisite two minutes.
He plopped a towel over her head. She came shakily to her feet, wondering when he intended to step out.
“How do you want your hair cut?” he asked her.
“Oh.” From beneath the towel she added, “I think I’ll cut it myself.” Although, on second thought, Kendal’s haircut had looked professional.
“Suit yourself,” Chase replied. “Concealment’s what I do for a living. I know how to make you look different,” he added.
Sara wavered. Pulling the towel off her head, she looked at him.
“Trust me,” he said, his blue eyes compelling.
She wanted to. She was longing to put her whole faith in him. If he could just act like the laid-back cowboy who’d rescued her
in San Diego instead of this serious, uncommunicative commando.
“All right,” she agreed, taking her chances. She positioned herself before the mirror.
“Color looks good on you,” he said, lifting the comb and drawing the snarls out of her shoulder-length hair.
She thought so, too, but watching him groom her was distracting. He was perhaps just six feet tall, several inches shorter than Garret, but his shoulders were twice as broad, making her seem petite by comparison.
“I was blond as a child,” she admitted. At one time, she’d been told that she resembled Meg Ryan, but that was way back before she’d started planning her escape.
Chase put the comb down and picked up the scissors. He began by hacking four inches off her hair.
Sara gaped.
“Just need a place to start,” he explained, with a hint of humor in his eyes.
His fingers slid into her hair, just above her scalp. He tugged and snipped. Three more inches fell away. He repeated the movement, and this time it felt like a caress, which he repeated, over and over again.
Sara relaxed by degrees. In place of her tension came a heightened awareness of him as a male, touching her in a way that Garret had never touched her. It wasn’t meant to be sexual, but it made her acutely aware of her femininity.
“You gonna change your name?” he inquired. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing, moving without hesitation, from front to back, snipping off tendrils that drifted toward the floor to layer over Kendal’s darker hair.
It wouldn’t hurt to tell him, would it? “Serenity,” she admitted. She’d chosen the name when she’d first considered leaving, right after Kendal’s birth.
The look that he bounced off the mirror went straight through her. “Serenity what?”
“I’d rather not say,” she hedged.
He was silent a second. “Good,” he decided. “It’s smart to be cautious.”
In lieu of asking more questions, he started twisting strands of her hair and snipping the ends. The shortness of the cut had Sara holding her breath, though she dared not complain. The idea was to change her look completely, and he was definitely doing that.
“Face me now,” he instructed.
Time to Run Page 3