Debra & Regan Webb & Black - To Honour And To Protect

“Roll down the window,” she said. “Some fresh air should help.”

His face brightened momentarily, then clouded over again. “Where’s the button?”

She rolled her eyes. “Use that little handle thingy.”

“Huh?”

She stretched but couldn’t reach it from the driver’s seat. The Land Rover was built so much wider than her sedan, and the only power was under the hood. How ridiculous that an old-school vehicle could stump them both. “The window isn’t electric like you’re used to. Just wind it down, remember?”

She had a few minutes of peace while the manual crank amused her seven-year-old son. In a few months, he’d be eight. Although less than a week ago she’d been kicking around ideas for his birthday party, now all bets were off. She didn’t know where they’d be living by his birthday, only that she intended to be sure they were both alive to celebrate it—even if it was just the two of them.

She immediately pushed that train of thought off the tracks. Right now all Andy needed to know was that they were on a summer adventure. Providing for him, taking care of his education—those questions would be answered later.

“Are we there yet?”

Not even close. “Almost.”

“Mom, I can’t hold it much longer.”

“Hang on.” With her eyes on the road, she caught the squirming in the backseat. “There’s a place at this next exit.”

“How long?”

“Two minutes,” she replied, her voice leaving no room for argument. “You can time me.”

His small, straight nose wrinkled as he fiddled with the big Captain America watch on his wrist. He flipped up the red, white and blue shield cover and busied himself with the stopwatch feature. Her little man had begged for the watch for Christmas and had worn it from the moment he’d ripped open the package. Only his fear of ruining it made him take it off for bath time.

She happily nurtured his love of comic book heroes, and reading through various adventures with him was part of their bedtime routine. Even in the horrible, desperate rush to get away, she’d grabbed his entire collection. More than once she’d wondered if some part of his attraction to comics was genetic. Andy’s father had been a soldier, a good man and a lifelong fan of the Marvel universe. Oh, what she wouldn’t give to have him here with her now.

“One minute,” Andy announced.

“My personal town crier,” she mumbled, taking the exit.

“What’s a town crier?”

Nothing wrong with her boy’s hearing. “Lots and lots of years ago, people didn’t have smartphones or clocks or watches, so someone would walk the town streets and call out the time. ‘Three o’clock and all’s well!’ Like that.”

“Huh.”

“We’re here.” She pulled into the parking space closest to the front door of the gas station, knowing that thoughtful “huh” sound meant more questions were dancing at the front of his brain. “You can unbuckle now.”

“You made it with ten seconds to spare.”

“Guess I should’ve been a race car driver.”

“Did town criers drive this old kind of car?” he asked when she came around to open his door.

“No. Town criers were way before cars.”

“Then how did they get around town?”

She held out her hand, her heart giving a happy bump when he placed his in hers without argument. “People walked or used horses and carts.”

“That’s weird. Horses poop a lot.”

She laughed. “Everything has a by-product.” Inside, she glanced around for the restroom sign, leading her son back by way of the motor oil aisle rather than the candy aisle. “I know at school you’ve seen pictures of cities before cars.”

“And the museum field trips.” He shrugged, his gaze roving across the labels at his eye level, his feet slowing as he tried to read the words and logos on each one. Grateful for the distraction, she wasn’t surprised it didn’t last. When she pushed open the ladies’ room door, he stopped short in the narrow hallway.

“I’m a boy,” he whispered as if she might’ve forgotten.

“Road rules, remember? We stick together.”

“Mom.” He scowled at her and folded his arms across his chest. “I’m too old to go in there.”

She bent close to his ear. “I understand. I even almost agree.”

“Almost?” He tilted his head, wary.

She nodded, smothering the smile for the sake of his pride. “But today it’s a safety issue. We stay together.”

“It’s been nothin’ but safety since we left home.”

“I know. And it has to be safety for a little longer.” She silently vowed to make it up to him. Somehow. “Soon you’ll have all kinds of new places and things to discover on our adventure.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

He looked back at her with the big, soft brown eyes that reminded her more and more of his father. His small hand patted her cheek. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll stay with you.”

“Thank you.”

“But I want to make a new deal for when I turn eight.”

“That’s certainly up for discussion.” Right now she had to be sure they lived that long.

With bladders relieved and hands washed thoroughly to the tune of the alphabet song, they cut through the store to get back on the road.

“Can I have a Coke?”

“It’s ‘may I,’” she corrected automatically. “And no. We have water in the car.”

“Can I have a peanut butter cup?”

So much for her efforts to avoid the candy and junk food. “When we stop for dinner tonight, you can have a Coke and a peanut butter cup.”

“Both?” His eyes went wide with hope.

She nodded.

“How long to dinner?”

She laughed and checked her watch. “A few hours.” She wanted more distance between her and the man who had the resources to chase her off the edge of the world. Addison refused to think of him as her fiancé anymore. Although she’d done her best to blur any trail, to escape somewhere he didn’t even know to search, she couldn’t be sure it would work.

The idea of being so completely duped by Craig Everett infuriated her. Worse, her relationship with him was now an embarrassment in both the professional and personal context. When she thought of how much she’d shared with that worthless excuse for a man, she wanted to shoot something. Preferably Craig. They’d shared lovely romantic evenings, family-type outings with Andy and lazy sleep-late weekend mornings. All of it made her feel dirty now.

Assuming she could evade Craig until she got word the authorities had him locked down, assuming she could eventually return to her life in San Francisco, she wasn’t quite sure how she’d find the courage to look her friends or her boss in the eye again.

It was hopeless to think his arrest and illegal dealings wouldn’t make news up and down the West Coast. More likely, it would be national news for a short time. Which meant she and Andy would be dragged into Craig’s horrendous mess by association. Their lives would be picked apart and exposed for everyone in the world to judge. It was possible even her secluded destination in the uncharted depths of a Louisiana swamp wouldn’t be shelter enough.

Because she’d been the idiot who nearly married an American traitor.

She buckled Andy into the booster seat and closed the door, stifling the violent words that wanted to pour out of her whenever she thought about what Craig had done. Telling herself she’d broken up his system and stopped him didn’t help as much as it should. Maybe that would change with time. So many things did.

The facts crawled like a line of ants between her shoulder blades. The sensation grew worse when she considered the likelihood that Craig’s slimy dealings had cost other women—other families—the grief she’d felt when Andy’s father had been killed in action on the other side of the world.