Page 63 of Sheltering You

Jasmine jumped, swiveling toward the voice.

Derrick’s gaze flicked to her stomach, and she yanked her hand away, shifting to set the photo down.

“Sorry. I was just… Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. That’s my cousin. Alyssa.”

“She is the oldest, no?”

“How’d you know?”

Jasmine shrugged. “She just looks it.”

“She’s only a year older than her sister. Irish twins, Dad always called them.”

“I guess it is how she holds herself,” Jasmine said. “She has that protective look of an older sibling. A little tough. A little guarded.”

Derrick studied the picture. “I can see that.”

“This is your uncle’s cabin, then. He resembles your father.”

“You think?” Derrick looked at one of the photos of Gavin. “They’re so different, but I guess I see what you mean.” Derrick continued into the kitchen and grabbed a glass. “You want some water or tea or something? There might be some lemonade.”

“Water, I guess.”

He took a second glass. “Bring the computer. Let’s sit in here.” He nodded toward the round kitchen table by the bay windows.

She did, choosing a chair that would give her a view of the outside. The cushion was upholstered with a pretty yellow-and-blue plaid, which matched a vase of silk flowers in the center of the table.

Outside, the forest seemed to stretch forever.

“We are far from Washington, DC, here, are we not?”

Derrick set down her drink, along with a sleeve of crackers, and sat. “Sixty, seventy miles, but it feels like a long way. We’re in West Virginia.”

“We were in Virginia yesterday, right?”

“Right.”

“These states are very small.”

“They’re bigger out west. We didn’t get that deep into Virginia, either. Just skimmed the border.”

“I see.”

He nudged the crackers toward her. “I thought you might be hungry.”

Thoughtful, as always. She was a little. She hadn’t finished the donuts, which had been too sweet and too heavy. She took a couple of crackers and nibbled one.

He nodded to the laptop. “I guess Basma hasn’t emailed?”

She glanced at the laptop, just in case, then shook her head. “Did Michael call?”

“Nope.” He checked the watch he always wore, a hefty stainless steel one that had probably been expensive, not that she knew anything about men’s watches. “Weird. He almost had me wake you up last night, and here it is, almost eleven, and nothing.”

“He must be busy.”

“I left him another message.”