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“Nope. He wasn’t dead, just far away.”
“Oh. My daddy’s dead.” Olivia studied her bare feet. “He’s not coming back.”
The words panged Grace, who smoothed a hand over her niece’s stiff hair while noting a pink tint to the little girl’s shoulders. She had to put more sunscreen on the lot of them once this ride was over.
“Yeah.” Simon regarded Olivia somberly. “My mom’s dead.”
The confession brought Olivia’s head up. “She is?” Given her expression, not having a mother was even worse than not having a father.
“Yep.” Simon shrugged. “But I don’t really remember her. Auntie Em was my mama. And now,” he swung a frank look up at Grace, “she’s my mama.”
The words rocked Grace back on her heels. Though touched by Simon’s willingness to have her for a mother, it still jolted her to realize he considered her a permanent fixture in his life. For that to be true, she and Amos would have to be more than what they were, which was—what? Friends? Sure, she’d confided in him more than once. He’d seen her at her worst and still put up with her. She was astonished by his talents and respected his capacity to do almost anything, but the thought of them being more than associates in caring for Simon terrified her.
She could not, would not, get involved with another alpha male like Doug. Even so, she couldn’t bring herself to check Simon’s expectations.
The line started forward, allowing them to climb several steps closer to the top of the slide. Soon they would all sit inside a round raft that would carry them down the purple chute, through twists and turns, even a waterfall, before ejecting them into calm water at the ride’s base.
Raging Mountain might be seen as a metaphor for life, Grace mused as they watched the group in front of them settle onto the sturdy float and grab hold of the straps. As thrilling as it was bound to be, it could never prepare her for the journey she was about to embark on, alone. For, unlike this ride, she couldn’t see the twists and turns awaiting her in Venezuela. She only knew it would be far, far more dangerous than she imagined. Whether she succeeded in bringing Mateo home with her remained a complete unknown. In fact, the only outcome that appeared fairly certain was that Amos wouldn’t want her caring for his son anymore or living on his houseboat—not that she’d intended to do so once Mateo was in her care.
But the prospect of losing Amos’s goodwill dismayed her more than she’d ever thought it would. Poor Simon would lose his third caretaker, just as abruptly as he’d lost the first two.
Before she knew it, it was their turn to ride. Grace settled onto the warm, wet raft, instructing Olivia and Simon to hold on tight and realizing with some surprise that she wasn’t even the tiniest bit afraid. Either Amos had taught her to think through her fear or she was starting to glean what true peril really looked like.
Whooshing down the huge purple chute, she kept her eyes fixed on the delighted six-year-olds across from her.One day,she swore to herself,I’ll take Mateo on this ride, and he’ll be laughing just like they are.
* * *
Emma divided a harried glance between the two illuminated road signs on the bridge up ahead.Which way should I go?
Just five minutes earlier, her cell phone, which had been fully charged that morning had died without her realizing the battery was low. She had no means with which to charge it in her car. Having driven all day, it was now 10:00 P.M., and they were minutes away from arriving at Amos McLeod’s address. If she could just slip off the highway and find a 7-Eleven, she could get directions that would take her the rest of the way.
Pitching her voice low so as not to wake Colton or the baby sleeping in the back seat, she asked her eldest, “Do you see a gas station, honey? Christopher?” A quick glance showed her ten-year-old fast asleep.
The highway was a corridor of dark trees. She couldn’t remember what amenities she’d seen advertised on the big green sign half a mile back. Flipping on her directional signal, Emma made up her mind to take the second exit. The only way to find help was to get off the highway and ask for it. Yet, just as she approached the ramp, steam billowed from underneath her hood, wafting toward her windshield.
Blast! The car was overheatingnowthat they were almost there!
Stabbing the button for her emergency blinkers, Emma edged her car off the asphalt onto the shoulder, getting as close to the guardrail as possible. At the same time, her engine shuddered, then died completely, while emitting a ticking sound. As the steam rose, Emma took stock of her situation. They were pinned under an overpass, between a dark patch of trees and cars swerving toward them to take the ramp before her.
Unfurling her stiff fingers, Emma switched off the ignition and sat a moment breathing fast. With her eyes on the mirror, she popped her hood, then timed the right moment to slip from her car. Lifting her hood, she stared at the dark engine. She had no flashlight, and her phone was dead. It wasn’t like she could fix anything in the dark, even if she had the right parts.
In desperation, Emma shut the hood and raised her aching eyes toward the trestles of the overpass above them. “Lord, You got us this far. Please get us the rest of the way.”
An eighteen-wheeler roared across the span above them, but no one appeared to save them.
Resigned to endure whatever was required of her, Emma slipped back into her vehicle. At least it was summer, and they wouldn’t freeze. They had water and snacks, and a patch of woods to pee in. She’d been in worse straights, and God had come through for her.
Lifting the console between her and Christopher, Emma wriggled across the bench seat to be closer to him, while resisting the urge to cling to him. While resisting the urge to cling to him. She laid her head on his headrest and closed her eyes. A loud car roared past them, and her eyes sprang open.
Thisis about to be the longest night of my life.
CHAPTER13
The honk of a horn startled Emma awake. Wincing at the crick in her neck, she noted the pink sunrise gilding the clouds as she peered out her rear window. Parked right behind them was a brand-new, sunflower-yellow Mustang with a stranger slipping out of it.
Friend or foe?Emma hauled herself back behind the wheel, checked that her doors were locked, and assessed the stranger through her side mirror. He was maybe thirty but completely bald and built like a WWF wrestler. Concern knit his sunburned brow as he peered into the back seat and spotted children. As he bent over to address her through her slightly lowered window, his friendly blue gaze told herherewas the answer to her prayer.
“Ma’am, do you need some help? Has your car broken down?”
