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“Sort of. We could backtrack and drop down through the Bitterroot Valley into Idaho. Or go through Yellowstone to Jackson Hole and south from there. Or there’s the long way around through Cody, Wyoming, and down. And just the straight shot south to Salt Lake, which I think they’ll expect us to take. And I’m sure there’s a crisscross of back roads pretty much everywhere.”
“Any idea what we’re lookin’ at, in days?”
“Mmm,” Tait pondered. “Anywhere from one day up to three, depending on howround-aboutwe get.”
“Which would theyleastexpect?” Marcus pressed.
“I could make an argument for each of them,” Tait said, before a new idea popped into her head. “What if we could somehow lay a trail of breadcrumbs leading to any or all of those routes, and then backtrack and hide out somewhere for a day or two to throw them off?”
Frowning, she shook her head. “No, that would not only be difficult, it would leave us scrambling to get to Salt Lake on time.”
Marcus’ brows dipped to a V.“Breadcrumbs?”
Really? How could he not know that reference?Puzzled, Tait felt her own brow scrunch.“You know…” she urged. “Hansel and Gretel?”
He shrugged and shook his head.
“Oh, well, it’s just something from my childhood,” she replied, trying to downplay her surprise. They must tell their children different stories in Scotland. “It’s notliteralbreadcrumbs, Marcus. It means a trail that’s easy to follow. Hints or clues to where we might be.”
“Och,” he nodded. “ ’Tis a good plan. But as ye said, it may prove difficult. What route then? Have ye a preference?”
“I’m not sure,” Tait muttered, replaying them in her head. “I don’t want to arrive in Salt Lake early, so that eliminates the direct route. Backtracking doesn’t feel right for some reason. So, I say we head back into the park. From there we can either go east to Cody or south to Jackson, whichever feels the safest. I like having an option if we’re cornered.”
“Agreed.” Marcus moved to the door. “Ready, then?”
“Yes,” Tait said, more resolutely than she felt.
Marcus opened the door, took a quick look around and waved her through, rushing to open the van’s side door.
“Wow,” Tait muttered, coming to a halt inside. “The compact size completely fooled me. I can’t believe they fit all this in here.”
She marveled at the tiny sink and stovetop that occupied a short counter with a small fridge beneath. Opposite was a tiny table and two narrow bench seats. Hopefully Marcus could get his big frame in one of them. In the back, the two short sofas faced each other near the double doors. They looked as if they would lay down and butt together to make a bed beneath the wide skylight. All shockingly compact and functional.
Setting the sack of fridge items on the counter, she dropped onto one of the bench seats. “This is too much, Marcus, you can’t—”
“ ’Tis done,” Marcus said handing her his bundle of clothes as he slid into the driver’s seat. “Set these back there?”
Hurriedly, she tucked the bundle into a small cupboard, stowed the fridge items and slid into the passenger seat. “Those colors in your tartan,” she buckled her seatbelt, “the red, green, blue and yellow plaid, are those your family colors?”
“Clan colors, aye,” Marcus replied.
“It’s beautiful.” She glanced up at him. “You haven’t told me anything about yourself. I’d like to learn more.”
He reached over and coaxed a few curls further onto her face. “I should’ve gotten ye some sunglasses. Try not tae face the window until we’re out o’ town. Or mayhap ye should just stay in the back.”
“Nice chat,” she mumbled under her breath even while recognizing now wasn’t the time. She could only hope there’d be arighttime.
“You might need a lookout. I’ll be careful to keep my face covered.”
She waved her hand to indicate the van. “You’ve done so much already, Marcus. I still can’t believe you bought this! Someday, somehow—assuming I get out of this alive—I’ll repay you for everything, I promise!”
He stilled. “Getting ye out alive, love, is all the payment I want.”
Her smile came hesitant and unsure. She’d expected him to say something like that. All except thelovepart. She knew it was merely a pattern of speech. Likelass—something he used easily and often with no more meaning thangirl. But for just that moment the word, and the way he said it, touched something in her she’d never felt. Even with all the ‘I love you’s’ from boyfriends—falsely stated and otherwise—along the way, she’d never felt that deep down tug she’d just had.
Wishful thinking, Tait! Those thoughts and feelings belong to normal people living normal lives, not you. You passed GO some time back and there’s no return ticket.
Pushing her thoughts away, she sat back as Marcus shifted into gear. “This is it. Keep an eye out.”
