Escape to Morning (20 page)

“You okay?” he greeted Dannette, who was sitting in the vet's waiting room, her knees up, her hands locked around them. Next to her, Sarah slumped in a chair sleeping, her hair tumbling out of her ponytail and wisping around her dirt-streaked face. They both looked wrung out and rumpled.

Dannette answered with a shrug. No fair that Will looked like he'd had a complete eight hours of sleep, even though he'd left only an hour ago. The Boy Scout side of him had waited until Missy had emerged from surgery with a positive prognosis before he went to clean up.

“Any news?”

“They don't know. They bound her broken ribs and stopped the internal bleeding. She's sedated for now.” Dannette pressed her fingertips to her eyes, feeling weak, fighting another wave of tears.

Will knelt before her and touched her knee. He'd not only bathed but added some really nice-smelling cologne. Devastatingly nice. Or maybe it was the contrast to her oh-so-yummy forest-and-sweat scent. She felt as if she'd crawled through cobwebs and had twigs and moss and crawly things tangled in her greasy hair. A real beauty queen.

“You need some sleep,” he said.

She sighed, nodded. “I wish Missy were human. I'd go in there, lie down beside her, hold her hand, tell her how much I love her.” She hadn't quite meant to unload all that, but the kindness in his eyes drew it out of her.

“She knows, Dani.” Will took her hand, rubbed it. She stared at her hand in his, startled by the gesture, especially when he trailed his thumb over the back of her hand. He had strong, capable hands and arms, and she couldn't deny that a large part of her simply wanted to sink inside them and hang on.

She must be very, very tired.

She pulled her hand away. In addition to feeling like walking toxic waste, she felt as if her emotions had been mauled by a couple of large rottweilers. And she was hungry; she was pretty sure she hadn't eaten in about forty days.

As if he could read her thoughts, Will stood and picked up her backpack. “C'mon. I'm taking you back to your motel. You should shower and climb into bed.” He nudged Sarah with his foot. “You too, sunshine.”

Sarah groaned, came half awake.

“In the meantime, I'll drive up to the rest area and retrieve the trucks.”

“Who? You and your clone?” Sarah sat up and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. “Or are you going to simply jog out there and pick them up? I mean, it's a mere thirty miles. You'll be back in a jiffy.”

He gave a sardonic grin. “I called a friend from the paper.”

Dannette let him pull her to her feet, his words carving into her sleep-fuddled brain. Oh yeah, he was a
reporter,
not a member of a north woods SWAT team.

Obviously, she'd left rational thought back there on the shore and returned with only her suspicions. She should pay attention to the fact that he had helped her carry Missy to the vet, abandoning any sort of diabolical agenda he might have had for sneaking around in the woods. And that included even his reporter's agenda, right?

Confused, she swallowed hard and trudged over to the reception desk. “Can I inquire about Missy?”

The vet tech gave her a sympathetic look. “She's still in recovery. Why don't you leave your number and we'll call you?”

Dannette scratched out her number, then followed Will and Sarah out into the parking lot. The sun simmered over the eastern horizon, warming the puddles left by the storm. Even here in Moose Bend carnage littered the parking lot.

Dannette suddenly felt frail, remembering the way the tempest had simply picked them up and tossed them against the rocks, buried them under debris.

Just like Ashley.

She often wondered how her sister had felt, gulped by the twister. Now she knew.

She wished she didn't.

Dannette decided to let Will drive and slid into the middle seat of her truck. Sarah climbed in beside her.

“Where are you staying?” he asked.

Dannette gave him directions, then asked, “Was anyone else hurt in the storm last night?”

Will started the truck and backed out. “I stopped by the office. Evidently the storm started in northwest Minnesota, and by the time it hit the BWCAW they clocked winds at 120 mph. The wind can toss a semi at 70 mph, so we're lucky to be alive.”

“Hopefully we'll all live,” Dannette said softly.

Will glanced at her as he turned onto the street. “She'll make it.”

Dannette nodded.

“There are people missing and lost up and down the shore,” Will continued after a moment. “If you weren't already searching for that little girl, you'd be answering a call-out.”

“I'm not going anywhere without Missy.” The very thought of facing the woods alone sent a shudder through her. She knew all about being alone with her fears, and somehow Missy or Sherlock, her bloodhound, had always been enough to keep those fears outside her perimeter.

Without Missy, the nightmares would close in.

“Will, how about if you wait around while I change; then I'll drive with you to get your truck and Sarah's Jeep,” Dannette said.

Will frowned, one eyebrow down in disagreement.

Dannette shook her head. “I can't sleep. Not with Missy in danger. I gotta keep moving. Please?”

He searched her eyes, and for a second she thought he might be able to read right through to her fears of being alone right now. He even reached out and squeezed her hand. Reassuringly. Friendly.

When he let go, she hated how much she missed his touch. Yes, she'd definitely left a huge part of her common sense back in the woods. Perhaps he
was
a stalker—he certainly knew how to blindside her heart.

No,
no
she would not fall for a guy who spilled secrets and destroyed lives for a living. Even if he did have a way of making her feel oddly safe, even protected.

“Okay. I'll wait in the truck while you get changed,” he said.

She managed a slight smile.

“I'm going to call Micah and update him,” Sarah said, looking out the window.

Dannette leaned her head on Sarah's shoulder. “Thanks for everything.”

Sarah took her hand. “God's mercies are new every morning. Remember that, okay? His grace is sufficient for this moment.”

Yeah, and what about the moment when Missy died? Dannette closed her eyes, forcing herself beyond that thought.

Will nearly argued with her. Dani was tired and needed some rest. But the fact that she'd leaned into his hand, squeezing back a little and looking at him with some sort of silent request … well, the feeling of longing that he'd been fighting went to full boil in his chest.

Friends. Full stop.
Just
friends.

Dani had looked pretty good in the duds she had on—even if they were grimy. Yet, when she emerged from her motel room less than thirty minutes later, her hair still wet, wearing jeans, a clean sweatshirt, and a down vest, he had to admit that it was worth the wait.

Just
friends.

She slid into the truck, smelling of shampoo. Fresh. Sweet. “Thanks for waiting.”

“Thanks for your help.”
Just friends
.

He hadn't quite figured out whom he would get to help him haul the vehicles home. Sarah's suggestion that he jog out there didn't feel so far from the truth. Maybe hitchhike. It wasn't like he really had any friends at the paper to ask. Not the kind who would do him a favor at least. He thought of Sally Appleton at border control. He wouldn't count her in his circle of friends.

Okay, he'd admit that his circle looked pretty meager. Dani, however, had managed to stick one foot in, as if testing the water. It was all he could do not to lunge at it like a largemouth bass, despite the warnings screaming in his head. He didn't have time to make friends or anything else. He had a mission—find one very lost girl and intercept one terrorist attack.

Hopefully, however, his only mission for today was to keep Dani's mind off trekking back into the woods and to sit tight while HQ checked out a report of a trucker who'd picked up a teenage girl thirty miles south of Moose Bend. But if said report panned out, he'd be heading south by tomorrow.

So much for being Dani's friend.

He tried not to let that thought dampen the fact that he had about eight clear hours to spend with Dani before he turned in his reporter's badge and became yet another person.

“Are you hungry?” he asked as he pulled out of the lot.

“I think I could eat a moose.”

He glanced at her, and she wore a soft smile. It did dangerous things to his pulse, especially when she added a hint of warmth in those hazel eyes. “Great. Okay. Let me buy you a venison sausage omelette from Nancy's. I promise it'll be better than our last meal together.”

She buckled her seat belt. “Promise no digging for information? No hint of sniffing out a headline or tunneling for SAR facts?”

“Yeah, I promise.” His job as a reporter was the last thing on his mind at the moment, but her hatred of journalists still bothered him, like an itch longing to be scratched. What was that about, and how could they get past it?

The one logical answer—honesty—made him flinch, and he put it out of his mind as they drove to Nancy's.

“This town has really been razed,” Dani said as they passed downed tree limbs, two electrical trucks, and a tow truck.

“I guess the power went out for a while too. The hospital ran on generators for three hours.”

“Those winds were scary.”

“Yeah. I've been in lots of storms, but nothing like that.”

“Life's like that, I think. We never know what forces are out there until they affect our lives.”

“Like the attachment to an animal?”

She gave him a sad smile. “Or maybe an unexpected friend.”

Oh. His mouth dried and breath fully left his chest. He swallowed twice before words came out of his mouth. “I appreciate your faith in me.”

“Well, perhaps I recognize God's provision in my life. You were really a lifesaver out there last night. I'm really sorry that I was so hard on you.”

He shrugged, but her words felt like gentle rain on all his dry and achy places. Probably too much. He smiled, covering the emotions that roughened his voice. “So, how is Sarah doing?”

“She crashed. She told me not to wake her until I had news on Missy.”

He resisted the urge to touch Dani's hand, give her reassurances. Suddenly that gesture seemed way too … friendly. Just having her admit that they were friends had put images into his head. Images that he was pretty sure weren't included in her definition of
friend
.

Like her in his arms, running his hands through her soft hair, maybe getting closer to that smell on her skin.

Kissing her.

Okay, see, Lord? I'm totally weak. You've given me a chance to be the guy You want me to be. A friend. Someone she can trust. Help me to learn what it means to do things Your way. To be just friends.

He pulled into Nancy's.

“Think she'll remember us?” Dani asked.

Us
. He liked the sound of that pronoun. “Yeah. I think she will.” He noticed she'd turned slightly pink and couldn't stop himself from touching her shoulder. “But it'll be okay.”

She got out of the truck. “As long as you don't have any more deep hidden secrets, I think I'm safe.”

His smile dimmed as he got out of the truck, slammed the door.
Oh yeah, real safe
. He felt like a dog as he followed her in. So much for friendship, for doing things God's way. What about honesty? A real friendship was based on truth.

And truth was the one commodity he didn't have to trade.

He held the door open. Nancy was behind the counter, loading a fresh batch of cinnamon rolls into her counter display. “Ah, the happy couple,” she said.

Dani reddened.

Will shook his head. “We had a misunderstanding, that's all. I'm trying to buy her friendship back with one of your venison-sausage omelettes.”

Nancy grinned. “That'll work. Two?”

He nodded and led Dani over to a table. She let him pull out a chair for her. In the morning light, she looked clean and fresh, despite the hue of fatigue in her eyes and her rebellious blonde hair. She clasped her hands together and leaned her chin on them, resting her elbows on the table. “Thanks for this.”

“Thanks for a second chance.” He signaled to Nancy as she emerged with a coffeepot.

Dannette put a hand over her cup and asked for tea.

“Just curious, but you got a little red when she mentioned
couple
. Am I interfering with someone else's time with you?”

If it were possible, Dani reddened further.
Whoops
. Or
yeah!
Not like it mattered … oh, brother, what exactly was he thinking? He wanted to dive under the table.

However, she elaborated. “It's just me and my dogs. God hasn't brought His man for me into my life yet.”