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The balance of their hike was quiet, thankfully. It was dark and moonless when Travis and Jordan reached Mitchell, the dog now shadowing her every move. The cluster of buildings making up the town was modest, and if the skepticism in Jordan’s expression was any indication, the community was much smaller than she had hoped. Travis led her along a street lined with huge, old maple and poplar trees, their drying leaves rustling in the breeze. Light glowed from the windows of homes they passed, and occasionally they heard voices and laughter. Reflective lettering on a street sign at the corner announced Main Street intersecting Rosenbaum, marking the end of the residential district.
An old, white church sat on the adjacent corner, its bell tower silent as it stood sentinel over the town. Travis stepped through a gap in the white picket fence, crossed the yard, and climbed the well-worn steps leading to a door at the rear of the church. He’d been impressed when he and Coop found the place, and the pastor told them the building always remained unlocked as a sanctuary for the townsfolk. Still amazed to find it open this time, he stepped into a dimly lit, cozy room and stood aside for Jordan to enter, followed closely by Jake.
The coals of a fire someone had started earlier in the day glowed through the vent in an ornate woodstove from the early 1900s, its warmth welcomed and appreciated. Across the room, another door remained closed. Mismatched sofas and overstuffed chairs, faded but clean, formed a semi-circle to his right, and a low table in the center of the room held books and magazines, neatly arranged. Behind the seating area, a wooden cross with a crisply starched, white sheet draped around it overshadowed the room. Stenciled letters above the religious symbol announced thatthe cross is empty—Jesus is alive.
All the comforts of home.Travis stoked the fire from a woodbin by the back door, then rubbed his hands together in the heat of rekindled flames. When the cast-iron stove crackled happily, he strode toward Jordan, perched on the arm of a chair. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“You’re leaving?” Surprise and a touch of fear appeared in the furrow of her brow.
He reached for her and pulled her close, though his gut said it was a stupid move. “To see about that food you mentioned and to contact my partner to arrange for transportation.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead, further alienating his gut.
“I’ll go with you.” Jordan leaped up and started toward the door.
Travis caught her arm as she reached for the doorknob. “We can’t risk anyone spotting you outside.” He grinned, hoping to soften his refusal. “No one ever forgets a beautiful woman. Besides, I need you to stay here and keep that mutt quiet. I’ll be fifteen or twenty minutes, tops.” He didn’t like leaving her alone, especially after seeing the fear in her eyes, but it was far less complicated to hide one person than two.
Jordan shook her head adamantly, but the argument Travis expected didn’t follow. He had a feeling it was pure, old-fashioned obstinance and determination to face her fear that kept her quiet. She had both in spades, and he sort of liked that about her.
She nodded grudgingly, and Travis saw the exhaustion in her deep brown eyes that suddenly lost their sparkle. In the last few hours, Jordan had suffered significant trauma and would be unlikely to escape without PTSD when this was finally over.
Travis placed his arm around her shoulders and turned her toward the door in the opposite wall. “That shower you wanted is through there to your left.” He placed a crumpled fifty-dollar bill in her palm.
“What’s this for?”
He pulled away and cracked open the door. “The offering plate.”
“Travis?” He halted just over the threshold and tried to read her expression.
The raw sensuality in her intense perusal nearly brought him to his knees. So much sadness, innocence, and courage shone from her eyes that he almost forgot why he needed to go and why he should keep his distance from her. He wanted this woman, heart and soul, in a way he’d never desired a woman before. His first instinct was to run, far and fast, but his need to hold her and kiss her into next week was even stronger.
Her eyes glossed over as she straightened, thrust out her jaw, and said, “Bring some food for Jake too.”
*****
JORDAN HAD TO FORCEherself not to look away for fear he’d read her thoughts. She’d wanted to beg him not to go, tell him he made her feel safe and that he was the only one she trusted. Listing the things she was sorry for would take all night, and it wouldn’t change anything. He’d brought her to this place of comparative safety, and now he would arrange transportation to get her home.Translation—I’m not his problem anymore.It was time for her to stand up and take charge of her life.
Travis’s gaze searched hers for a second longer before closing the door. The steps creaked beneath his weight, and then he was gone.
Jordan swallowed the words she’d wanted to blurt out, knowing her silence was for the best. Growing up and standing on her own two feet had to start somewhere.Today is as good a day as any.
She found the bathroom with its coveted shower and discovered the brass offering plate beside a stack of clean towels near the sink.How did Travis know?He didn’t seem the type of man who’d often ventured inside a church, but what did she really know about him? Only that he was an ex-SEAL who was hot as sin and charming when he tried to be. Then there was the whole kidnapping thing for which it seemed likely she owed him her life.
Did that mean she believed Alex wanted her dead? Travis had claimed he overheard Brody and Alex plan her death, and Jordan was no longer willing to swear it wasn’t true. Whether or not Alex intended to harm her, they were through as far as she was concerned, and she just wanted to go home and forget this weekend ever happened.
With Jake guarding the bathroom door, she let the spray soothe her body until the water turned lukewarm. After towel drying her hair, she tamped down her distaste and dressed in her same clothes, shaking out the worst of the dirt. Feeling better, Jordan returned to the main room in time to add another piece of wood to the waning fire. Relaxed by the hot shower and the stove’s warmth, she stretched out on a couch with one hand draped over the dog on the floor beside her.
Something startled her awake, and she bolted to her feet, attempting to get her bearings in the dimly shadowed room. Jake was no longer beside her, but she heard him growl and turned toward the sound. The hair on his scruff stood up as his lips curled, revealing wicked-looking canines. Shoving her hand in her coat pocket, she drew out the 38 Special Travis had given her.
The door opened with a rattle of the loose knob, and Travis’s broad form slipped inside. Jake growled again. “Go lay down, Jake.” Apparently satisfied with the familiar voice, the dog wagged his tail as he padded back to the couch and plopped down.
Travis squinted toward her, and his eyes widened. “You’re not going to shoot me, are you?”
Still shaking, Jordan released her breath and lowered the gun.
Travis strode to the low table, switched on a lamp, and unloaded three Styrofoam containers from his bag. “Come and get it while it’s hot.”
She shoved her weapon into the back waistband of her jeans and leaned closer to the table. “That smells great.” Her stomach chose that moment to growl as though in agreement.
Travis laughed. “There’s a little café in town that has the best burgers anywhere, or so the sign says. I’ve never eaten there, but itdoessmell good. Real enough for you?”
