A Stolen Chance (10 page)

“No, just those sensitive to the emotions of others or people like me who’ve had special training. I used to be a police detective, and—”

She stood. “You what? I want to go!”

Before Carson could respond, she stormed from the room. What was that all about? Well, she wouldn’t get far. He realized he was standing and sat back down. “I’m sorry, Mr. Zeekya.”

The artisan held up his hand. “No need to apologize. I sense something evil stalking her. I don’t think it is a spirit. If so, the one who showed himself in Chaco Canyon would have acted. No, the one who seeks to harm Shannon Langley is human. Watch her closely if you want to keep her safe.”

A chill crept up Carson’s spine. He knew it, his instincts were true. He’d recognized her unease almost immediately. “I will.”

Mr. Zeekya removed a small white fetish from a drawer. He knotted a long piece of rawhide around the carving to hold it securely and then tied the ends, forming a necklace. “Give this to the young woman. Tell her to wear it at all times.”

Carson pulled out his wallet.

The older man held up a hand. “No, my son, it is a gift. It will give her the strength and knowledge she needs to bring her journey to an end.”

“Thank you. I know she’ll cherish White Bear and want to extend her thanks personally.”

Mr. Zeekya slid the package with Grandpop’s fetishes across the table. Carson took it and tucked it into his coat pocket. He didn’t know what to think about today’s findings. Aunt Leona knew this man, a famous artisan, and he appeared to be in tune and connected with the spirits. How else could he know of Shannon’s fears? Well, Carson himself had sensed Shannon’s troubled demeanor, but not the specifics.

“No thanks are needed. An evil man is stalking her. He will kill her if he can. Know this—of the things she’s involved in, she’s innocent, a mere victim.”

“How can you know?”

Mr. Zeekya smiled. “The hows are not important. I just know. Go and protect your heart.”

Chapter Nine

Protect his heart? What the hell did that mean?
As if you don’t know, old man.
You’re sweet on the woman
. She’d become important to him. Mr. Zeekya’s words spurred his determination to get Shannon to open up to him, to reveal who or what she fled from. His mind flashed back to the newspaper in the truck stop. Chicago was one clue in the puzzle; he’d bet money on the fact.

The object of his musings stood leaning against his truck, her back to him. He unlocked and opened the door for her. She slid in without a word. Once inside, he stretched the hand holding the fetish necklace out and let it dangle before her.

She stared at it. Face devoid of emotion, she said, “It’s lovely,” and returned her gaze to look out the passenger window.

“Take the necklace, Shannon.”

Brow creased, expression suspicious, she asked, “Why?”

“Mr. Zeekya asked me to give it to you.”

She took White Bear and held him up by the rawhide to examine closely. “It’s beautiful.” She ran a finger over the carved stone. “Look. He has a turquoise arrow attached to his back.” Her eyes met his. “For safety in battle, right?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Her growing knowledge of Zuni lore pleased him. “The fetish is a fine piece of Zuni art. White Bear is one of the strongest of mystical creatures. He symbolizes strength and knowledge.”

“Why would Mr. Zeekya give me such a valuable piece? He doesn’t even know me.”

Carson started the truck. “I offered to pay for it, but he insisted the figure was a gift.”

She unhooked her seat belt. “Wait. I need to go thank him.”

“Mr. Zeekya said no thanks were needed. If you want, you can send him a note.” As Carson put the truck in reverse and backed out of the parking area, Shannon refastened her safety restraint and then slipped the necklace over her head. He glanced down to see where White Bear nestled between her breasts.
Lucky bear.

“Mr. Zeekya wants you to wear the necklace at all times. Never take White Bear off. He said the fetish will give you the strength and knowledge you need to bring your journey to an end.”

****

Lost in thought, Susan started when Carson pulled off the road and stopped at a roadside park. “Why are we stopping?”

“I want to let Hans stretch his legs.” He stepped from the cab and flipped the seat forward so the dog could jump down. “When we get back, you and I will have a talk. You’re going to tell me what happened in your life to instill enough fear to cause you to flee.” His handsome face wore a frown of determination. “I won’t accept anything but the truth this time.”

He closed the door and with long strides joined Hans, who’d located a stick, on a long stretch of grass. The minute Carson picked it up, the dog ran long, waiting for the twig to fly through the air. Carson didn’t disappoint him, and the dog caught the stick before it hit the ground. Back and forth, barking with joy and energy, Hans ran. Carson’s booming laugh at the dog’s antics pulled a smile from Susan—for a moment.

Her mind shifted to their upcoming talk. She resented Carson’s intrusion into her privacy. Who did he think he was, to dictate to her? He had no right to expect her to bare her soul. Yes, she felt comfortable around him—liked him. Heck, what was she thinking? He made her heart race and her stomach flutter. But that didn’t mean she could tell him about her past, could she?

It would be a relief if she
could
open up and reveal her deepest fears. He was a police detective, for goodness’ sake. She knew she couldn’t trust the FBI, because of an individual or two in their ranks. Dewayne’s source in the organization might get wind and give away her location. Carson didn’t appear to be a dirty cop. His family trusted him. In her opinion, that said a lot about a person. Though his days on the force were over, he probably still had connections in law enforcement. Could she trust him? Would he call one of them, find out the details of the investigation, and turn her in? For some instinctual reason, she didn’t think he would. He’d keep the information to himself.

She hadn’t set the fire at her house that killed Lauren. She was innocent. All she’d done was run from Dewayne and the additional pain he’d inflict if he found her. But she had set in motion the events that caused Lauren’s death. A sob rose in her throat. She covered her mouth to stifle the cry that threatened to escape. With her free hand, she clasped the bear fetish and closed her eyes. Warmth filled her hand and infused her body. A sense of well-being filled her. She sighed. Her head dropped back against the cushion of the seat. All would be well. She had to trust someone.

The driver’s door opened. Shannon jumped and raised her head. Carson still wore a smile from his play with Hans. He handed her a bottle of water she assumed he’d retrieved from the bed of the truck, then set a bowl of water on the floor by the back seat, and Hans leapt up to lap at it.

Carson popped the cap on his own water. “Do you need help with yours?”

She twisted and broke the seal. “No, I’ve got it. Thanks.”

They drank in silence for a few minutes, and then he set his drink in the cup holder. With his arm across the back of the seat, he turned to face her. He didn’t say a word, just waited.

She studied the man beside her—the lean contours of his face, the expression of concern in his chocolate eyes. If she didn’t confide in him, would he be angry or disgusted, reject her? She mentally shook her head. No, he wasn’t the type. She drew a deep breath. The time was now or never.

“I need your promise. That you’ll keep what I tell you to yourself.”

“I’ll not betray your confidence, Shannon. You have my word.”

She drew in a deep gulp of air and let it out. “The first thing I need to tell you...my name isn’t Shannon Langley. I’m Susan Lawton.”

The words spilled from her like torrents of rain from a thundercloud. This storm had been brewing for a long time. Letting the words overflow eased the pain in her heart and lifted a burden from her shoulders. Carson didn’t move, didn’t interrupt, and his expression of interest didn’t change, so she continued. Telling him about her parents, her fear that they were worried, and her guilt over Lauren’s death released the tears she’d held inside. They flowed down her face unchecked. He handed her tissues, and she wiped the moisture away and continued.

In the back seat, Hans whined in distress and nudged her with his nose. The animal’s empathy increased the flow. She turned and hugged the dog. Her voice breaking, she croaked, “I’m okay, boy.”

Carson unhooked her seat belt and tugged her closer to him. He wrapped both arms around her, and she wept against his shirt front.

One of his big hands cradled the side of her head against him while the other rubbed comforting circles on her back. “I knew you were in distress, sweetheart, but I had no idea how serious.”

“You...you...won’t t-turn me in, will you?”

“No.” She felt his lips in her hair. “Never. I’ll do everything in my power to help you. If Dewayne shows his face, I’ll kill him and take pleasure in doing so.”

“Noooo. You’d go to jail. I don’t want that to...to happen. That’s one reason why I left Chicago. I feared my dad would kill him and end up in prison.”

“Don’t worry. If I kill him it will be in your defense. After what he’s done to you, no jury on earth would convict me.”

She wiped her face and blew her nose. “I like to think I could kill him myself if I had to.” The desire to see him dead raged in her heart. But did she have the strength to take his life? She liked to believe that if he tried to hurt her again, she could pull the trigger. She’d never know unless forced into the situation.

The safety of Carson’s arms lulled her. Her eyes drifted closed, and she burrowed a little closer to the warmth of his muscled chest.

His breath rustled her hair, setting goose bumps dancing on her skin. “White Bear will give you courage when you need it. I will give you the skills needed. We’ll take you to the gun range often and train. Reaction time is of vital importance. People not accustomed to going for their weapon need to practice repeatedly to shorten their response time.”

Her free arm, the one that wasn’t trapped between them, circled his waist. If he objected, he didn’t show it as the hand at her neck tilted her head back. He kissed her forehead. She sighed and looked up at him.

His gaze, brown eyes as warm as rich coffee with swirls of caramel, burned into hers. Her breath hitched, and her lips parted.

His lips touched hers and moved carefully, invoking a long-forgotten need.

A cry rose in her throat.

He jerked back.

Struggling for air, he dropped his forehead to hers. “I’m sorry. You’re not ready, are you?”

“No. Don’t be sorry.” She shook her head. “It’s been so long since I’ve been kissed, since I felt the touch of another human being.” She struggled not to cry as she touched his face. “I need the contact. Please, kiss—”

His head swooped down. His lips captured hers. Warm flesh moved over hers, gently at first, then hungrily—in a dance that set her senses on alert. Her body flushed with desire and more—longing—longing for closeness with this man she trusted with her entire being. His tongue searched for entrance past her lips, and she opened, allowing him to deepen the kiss—to taste her and allow her to taste him in return. When he pulled away, her hands held fistfuls of his shirt collar.

Embarrassed, she released him and started to ease back to her side of the truck.

He stilled her.

“Stay here beside me.”

The desire in his eyes reflected hers.

She nodded.

He found the center seat belt and buckled her up, then started the truck. He backed out, put the truck in drive, and headed out of the roadside park. When he hit the highway, he wrapped his right arm around her.

Susan dropped her head to his shoulder.

For the first time since leaving Chicago, her soul felt clean and free. Within minutes she was sound asleep.

Chapter Ten

Carson stopped in front of cabin number one. He glanced down at the sleeping woman nestled against his shoulder. She hadn’t budged the entire trip home. She’d been carrying a heavy burden, and sharing it had been cathartic. He wished she’d told him earlier.

Hans stuck his muzzle over the seat and nudged Carson’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I know we’re home, boy.” He didn’t want to wake her. Having her at his side, even for this short time, had been nice, a sensation he could easily grow accustomed to. Arm still around Shannon—no, Susan, her name was Susan—he gently squeezed her shoulder while shaking her. “We’re home.”

She jerked upright and looked around. “Goodness. I slept the whole trip?”

“You needed it. Releasing all that pain and stress wore you out.”

Her face flushed, and she raked her hands through her hair, attempting to put it in order. To him it looked perfect, as it always did. “I’m sorry to have troubled you with all my problems.” She unhooked her safety belt and scooted across the seat.

“Wait. Don’t run from me. You needed to talk, and I pushed you to open up.”

“I made such a fool of myself.” Back rigid, she dropped her head. “Kissing you and all.”

She reached for the door handle, but he stilled her with a hand to the back of her neck. He kneaded the taut muscles. “Honey, I’ve wanted to kiss you from the first day I saw you.” Her shoulders dropped a fraction, relaxing the tenseness in her back. “As a matter of fact, if you’ll scoot back over here, I’d enjoy a goodnight kiss.”