Runner's Moon Trilogy Megabook Series (4 page)

Clearwater was one hundred and eighteen miles northeast of Laughlin. Even so, Jeb felt it wasn't far enough away. Once Carl recovered, he would come after the man who had taken Hannah. Then he would be coming after her.

He pulled down the pamphlet from where he had tucked it over the visor. Mr. Bennetson had given it to him Wednesday.

It was a tourist brochure for a place called Tumbril Harbor.

The man had a close cousin there who ran a lumbermill. The place was known for the timber it produced exclusively for shipbuilders.

"If you ever venture in that direction and need a few days'

or a few weeks' worth of work, tell Tom I sent you."

Tumbril Harbor wasn't off of any major highway or secondary artery. One had to travel winding country roads to reach it.

As a town, it was slightly smaller than Laughlin, but it was surrounded by forest, with a direct route to the ocean.

Picturesque. Easy to get lost in. And it was only another four hour drive away.

Hannah hadn't awakened since she had passed out on their way back to the diner. Neither had she moved when he got back into the truck after picking up his paycheck. It wasn't until he had to stop to pick up a bottle of aspirin and gas up the truck just outside of Clearwater that she finally came to. Slowly she pulled herself up and looked groggily 49

around. When she focused on him driving, it all came back to her.

"Take a couple of those aspirin," he gently ordered, nodding toward the small bottle sitting on the seat between them. "There's also coffee and a breakfast biscuit in the paper sack."

"Where are we?"

"North of Clearwater." He nodded at the second sack in the floorboard near her feet. "Barb put your tips in that other sack."

He noticed her glance at him as she reached for the first sack containing the coffee. "North of Clearwater?" she finally understood. "I ... thought..."

Tossing her the brochure, Jeb explained, "I changed my mind. We're going to Tumbril Harbor. I was told it has a mill that's owned and run by Mr. Bennetson's cousin. He said I could have a job there if I wanted it." He glanced at her sipping from the Styrofoam cup. "That's probably cold by now. I can stop at the next town and get you some fresh, if you want."

"No." She carefully shook her head. "It's okay. It's still warm. It feels good on my throat." Sighing, Hannah stared out her passenger window at the passing scenery. From that angle, the worst of her cuts and bruises were out of sight, although the black fingertip-sized splotches around her throat and neck were clearly evident. Jeb felt his anger simmer in his blood. He had been too generous letting the man get away with just a crushed hand.

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Long minutes and several miles went by. Jeb rarely played the radio in the truck, preferring the quiet and peace of mind he could obtain while driving. So the next time she spoke, her question vibrated in the air.

"Why?"

He knew sooner or later she was going to ask him that question. Human emotions were fragile things. And early on he had learned that the truth, no matter how much it could wound, was always the best road taken.

"Because I could not bear the thought of him hurting you anymore."

His answer got her attention. Hannah turned to stare at him. Instead of asking any further questions, she dipped into the sack and brought out the breakfast biscuit. Beth had dropped one with sausage and egg, and one with egg and cheese only. Jeb had left her the one with the meat.

Slowly he watched from the corner of his eye as she pinched off pieces of the biscuit before putting them into her mouth and carefully chewing them.

"Jeb?"

"Yeah."

"What's going to happen to me now?"

"I guess that all depends upon you."

Blue eyes dulled with the hopelessness of their situation looked over at him. "Don't leave me," she whispered. Her plea was barely audible above the growl of the engine.

"Don't worry," he assured her. "I'll be here for you until you decide what you want to do with your life."

"And then?"

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"And then you're free to go," he said as his insides turned inside out. Crystal bright pain shot through his chest, stunning him with the force of his reaction. Jeb knew he would have to face a very real, very possible future without her in it because of the decisions he had made today.

When she is ready to leave me, will I be able to let her go?

After eating, Hannah curled up on the seat, her head propped against his leg and thigh, and dropped back to sleep.

He had picked up a thermal blanket at the Gas 'N Go when he'd filled up. Now he tucked its plaid edges around her to keep her warm as she slept.

Sleep was good for her. It was the great healer, and that was what she needed lots of. He soon found having her head resting on his thigh was causing unusual stirrings in his chest and lower belly. It also was a feeling he could easily grow to like. Despite the circumstances of her being with him, Jeb couldn't deny the fact he had no regrets over bringing her with him. In all honesty, he knew he hadn't made it a point to go to the diner every morning simply to have breakfast. He had gone because of Hannah. Because he wanted to see her face and teasing smile. He needed to hear her voice and her laughter when she tried to pass along a joke she'd heard.

Hannah Pitt had come to mean something very real and promising to him. Which was why any dreams of a future with her were both poignant and impossible.

Hannah Pitt was human. He, Jebaral Gitall Morr, was nothing remotely human.

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Still, he could protect her as he promised. Protect her and care for her until she healed and was able to face the world again on her own two feet.

Silently, Jeb prayed that time would not come too soon.

It was nearly three when he turned onto the simple two-lane blacktop that led to Tumbril Harbor. Hannah also roused herself from sleep and sat up with the blanket wrapped tightly about her.

"We're about seven miles from Tumbril Harbor. When we get there, I'll find us a place to stay, then I'll get us something to eat. Anything in particular you'd like?"

She shook her head. Hunched over slightly, she appeared extremely vulnerable and lost. "I don't care," she finally answered. "But I would love something cold to drink, if that's all right."

"Not a problem."

"What time is it?"

"A little after three."

She reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. Her fingers encountered some dried blood, and she stared at the flakes in numb surprise.

"You can take a bath while I'm gone."

"I don't have anything to wear," she protested feebly.

Parting the blanket slightly, she noticed the bloodstains on her gown. "I don't think I'll be able to get all the blood out of this."

"Don't worry. I brought along some of your things. They're in the bag in the bed."

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He watched as she shifted around and looked out the back window. "Thank you."

* * * *

According to the sign, Tumbril Harbor was established in 1818, and many of the buildings they drove past looked like they had been built around that time. As the brochure promised, modernization was not allowed within fifteen miles of the city limits. So if one came to this little seaside resort looking to shop at a department store, or to eat at a well-known fast-food restaurant, they would be out of luck. Which was fine with Jeb. One of the reasons he preferred the smaller towns was because each one had its own unique flavor. A specialness that crept into his bones and made him feel more at ease.

Simolif, on the other hand, preferred the anonymity of living in bigger cities. Between the two of them, they could argue the pros and cons for hours. Yes, the big city made it easier to blend in with the populace. But small towns were often less easily accessible. Plus the people were friendlier and more willing to help.

Coming around a bend, Jeb spotted a sign which read Harvest Moon Motor Lodge. He pulled into the parking lot, making sure the truck was parked away from the main office.

The last thing he and Hannah needed was for someone to see her in her present condition and start asking questions.

The office was empty. Jeb slapped the bell for attention.

Presently an older woman came out to greet him with a smile.

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"Sorry to keep you waiting. I was on the Internet. Are you needing a room?"

"Do you have weekly rates?" he inquired.

She gave him a closer look. "Planning on staying a while, are you?"

Jeb gave her his best smile. She seemed to melt from its effect, as he'd hoped she would. "I'd like to think so. I'll be applying for a job over at the mill. Mr. Mallon's cousin from Laughlin sent me."

That bit of news shredded any further doubts she had about him. "Oh! Anson sent you! Well, to answer your question, yeah. With tourist season about over, I can set you up on a weekly basis. No problem." She leaned partway over the counter and spotted the truck in the parking lot. "By yourself?"

"No. I'm with a friend."

"Girlfriend?"

Her tone of voice put him immediately on edge. That, and the smoky smell of something he couldn't identify. Again, truth would always win out, no matter the consequences. Jeb knew from experience that lying often caused disastrous results.

"Yes, ma'am. Is that going to be a problem..."

There was a plaque hanging on the opposite wall. Given by the Tumbril Harbor Chamber of Commerce to Walt and Wendy Newburg.

"...Mrs. Newburg?"

The smoky smell dissipated. The warm smile returned.

"No. Not that I can see." She pulled a notebook from under 55

the counter and dropped it in front of him. "I'll need you to fill this form out for me. I'll be right back."

He finished furnishing the information she needed as she returned with a key dangling on a short chain bearing the number eleven.

"Eleven's on the end. I thought not having to deal with people on both sides of you would give you a little more privacy. Plus you'll have a little extra room to park."

He paid cash for the week, noticing she didn't charge him for the coming weekend. Rates usually ran from Monday through Sunday, payable in advance. That way if a guest decided to move out on a weekend, the room was already paid for.

Giving her another thank you, he took the key and left the office. No doubt the town would know all about him before he even applied for work on Monday.

"Any trouble?" Hannah asked softly as he climbed behind the wheel.

"No. If anyone asks, I told them you were my girlfriend.

Hope you don't mind."

The scent of brightness swirled about her. "No. No argument here," she said with a little smile.

He was too surprised to say anything as he drove the truck over to bungalow number eleven.

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Hannah waved away his offer to carry her into the bungalow. Jeb watched as she moved slowly under her own steam. Most of the damage was to her face, neck, and shoulders, although he wouldn't be surprised if she had a cracked rib. He followed her with their things.

The interior of the tiny cabin was small but not confining.

The bedroom area held a double bed with a quilted cover, a bureau, and a small writing table and chair. One door led to the bathroom with a tub and shower. The second doorway led to the kitchenette. Through the window behind the bed, Jeb could see that the woods came right up to the rear of the cabin. That was good.

He heard a small cry of dismay as he dropped their bags inside the door. Hannah was in the bathroom. Going over to the door, he could see her staring at her reflection in the mirror over the sink. In the glare of the single bulb overhead, her skin was a rainbow of colors, all in the dark scale. He watched as she tenderly touched the swollen areas around her eyes and chin. Presently she cast a tear-filled glance at him through the mirror. Her lips moved, but no words came out. The air was filled with the heavy, inky scent of desolation.

Jeb managed to catch her before she collapsed to the floor. At first she struggled against him, trying to slap away his arms and hands. Giving up, she clung to him and buried 57

her face in his chest. Loud sobs shook her as he held her, letting her finally come to terms with what had happened.

With their present situation. With the uncertainty of her future ... their future.

She felt weightless in his arms as he carried her over to the bed and sat her down at the foot of it. Her hands continued to grip his shirt, giving him no choice but to sit beside her.

The smell of sadness continued to surround her, but now he could sense another emotion coming from her. It was tangy. Different. Lightly laced with a sweetness he found he liked. It reminded him of lemonade.

"Oh, God, how can you look at me?" The words were muffled against his chest. Jeb's first reaction was that he might be saying those very same words in the immediate future.

"Hannah?"

The crying lessened. Her breathing grew easier, not as raspy. She allowed him to leave her long enough to get the box of tissues from the bathroom. After she had wiped her cheeks and blown her nose, he gently lifted her chin. "Let me get a good look at what he did to you."

Her eyes betrayed no fear as he lightly ran his fingers over the damage. When she didn't flinch under his scrutiny, he took it for a good sign. So far, there were no broken bones in her face, as far as he could tell.

"Well?"

"Well ... I wouldn't pose for any magazine covers for a while," he said with a smile. Hannah snorted softly and 58

managed to grin back. "What about the rest of your body?

You were moving slow there. Did he ... kick you? Or hurt any other part of your body?"

He wanted to ask her if the man had molested her, but the helplessness in her eyes kept him from doing so.

He watched as she focused on a spot over his right shoulder. He knew she was fighting with herself over how much she should tell him. After a brief struggle, she turned back to look him in the face.

"I should tell you all of it," she admitted. "It would only be right, since you went to all the trouble of sav-saving me." Her breath hitched in her chest. Tears rose into her eyes again.

She sniffed loudly and let them fall.

"Wait. This doesn't have to be done right now." He glanced at his wristwatch. That was another thing he liked about this world. These people regulated themselves with a simple device strapped to their arms. Everything around them revolved around time. Jeb found it very easy to move about on a planet where all he needed was neatly coordinated. "It's almost four, and neither of us have had anything to eat since early this morning. You go take a shower. I'll go get something to eat and bring it back here. Is there anything besides something cold you would like?"

She shook her head. Once. Tiny droplets of soreness tinged the air around her head. "I'll eat anything. I'm not picky," she gave him a small grin, "like you."

He grinned back. "Who, me?"

"Mr. Vegetarian."

"Not by choice, Hannah. My system won't tolerate flesh."

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That remark earned him a cocked eyebrow. "You mean meat, don't you? But I've seen you eat eggs."

"It's not flesh. Muscle."

"How about fish? Shrimp and such?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I've never tried it."

"You've never eaten shrimp or fish? Are you kidding me?"

An incredulous look spread over her face.

"Hannah, look. We have all evening to discuss my eating habits. Let me go and pick up a few things first."

"Here. Let me give you some money." She started to get up and reach for the paper bag she'd left on the small nightstand. Jeb stopped her.

"That's all right. Keep your money."

"No, it's not all right. I can't have you spending your money on me. Let me at least help."

"No." He hoped his tone sounded firm. "It's time someone took care of you instead of the other way around." Another grin managed to take the sting out of his refusal. He stood and patted his pocket, pulling out his truck keys. "Don't open the door for anyone, okay? If it's important enough, they'll come back."

"Okay." She remained on the bed, watching him. Waiting.

It was as if she wanted him to do something. Or say something. Jeb mentally cursed in his native tongue. He was treading water here, totally unprepared for these feelings coming forth in him. And left out in the middle of space when it came to the emotions of others. As he turned to leave, he could see the flash of disappointment cross her battered face, 60

and knew he had been right. There was something she had wanted from him, and he had failed to give it to her.

Damn him for having no idea what it was.

Damn him further for not asking.

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