Tara Randel - Always The One

Could this be a signal from Hannah?

He grabbed the envelope and scanned the return address again. Dark Clay, Nevada.

He swiveled in his chair and typed the name into the computer. Found the location about twenty miles outside Carson City near Lake Tahoe.

His heart started pumping wildly. Finally. After all these years. A connection. Was this Hannah’s way of contacting him? And why now?

Did it matter?

No.

He picked up his phone and booked the next available flight to Reno-Tahoe International.

SOMEONE WAS WATCHING Hannah Rawlings. Or, Anna Rawley, as she was currently known. She was sure of it.

She’d been on the run long enough to recognize when the little hairs on the back of her neck were warning her, not acting up because of the biting wind. She walked around the playground of Ponderosa Day School, avoiding patches of ice as she pulled her wool coat more snugly around her. It had rained just after the morning bell and since then the temperature had dipped close to freezing. The sun barely peeked out from the cloud cover. Shivering, she watched her students, but her eyes flitted around the schoolyard. Nothing out of the ordinary for a Tuesday. But still, she couldn’t shake the strange feeling.

“Miss Rawley, Tommy threw snow at me.”

She glanced down to find William staring up at her. She controlled her exasperation. What was it with boys, always tussling and one-upping each other? She crouched down to his level, her heart squeezing at his mournful expression.

Teaching ten-year-old children required a patience level and skill she never thought she’d need.

“What happened?”

“You know the pile of snow in the corner? Chuck was kicking it with his boots and then Tommy scooped it up and made snowballs.”

“I thought you boys were playing a game?”

He nodded, his blue eyes solemn behind glasses. “We were. It was my turn with the ball, but Tommy took it from me and then started throwing snow at me.”

As usual, Tommy made his own rules.

“I’ll talk to him.”

William’s face lit up. “You’re the best.” He turned and ran back to a group of boys.

“Hardly,” she muttered under her breath. Not when she wondered every day why she was getting dressed to go to school and teach a class full of rambunctious fourth graders. Not exactly her grand plan, but then, nothing had turned out the way she’d dreamed.

But once she arrived, the kids reminded her why she loved being around them. Their optimism and energy filled her with a sense of hope she hung on to daily.

Rising, she stuffed her gloved hands in her coat pockets and watched the boys work out their problems just before the bell rang. The students hurried to line up. Taking one last look around the schoolyard, Hannah searched for the source of her uneasiness. No adults hung around the fence. The cars in the parking lot belonged to teachers or support staff. Even the cars along the street were a normal part of the landscape.

Okay, so she was overreacting. Wouldn’t be the first time.

The next couple of hours dragged on as Hannah finished her day. The black slacks and white sweater she’d dressed in that morning did little to keep her warm. Despite the heated classroom, she couldn’t seem to stop shivering. She was exhausted by the time the kids had been released and she was free to leave. As she took her keys in her right hand, she remembered her earlier prickliness and clutched the pocket-size container of pepper spray attached to the ring. With the other hand she gripped her leather tote bag, ready to head home to check on her mother and then relax with a strong cup of tea. She made her goodbyes to her colleagues and walked to the parking lot.

A frigid late-afternoon wind whistled around her. Pine trees swayed, the needles rustling, cones dropping to the icy ground with a thud. Clouds hadn’t left the sky since she’d been outside earlier. Patches of crusty snow lingered along the curb from the storm a few days earlier. She shrugged deeper into her coat, wishing she’d remembered a hat. In the five years she’d lived here, she’d never gotten used to winter in Nevada.

Her car came into view. Hannah scanned the lot, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Silly, really. No one had bothered her in a long time. Still, the years of drills were seared into her muscle memory, most of them unnecessary. Heaving out a laugh, she reined in her imagination.

In her haste to cross the lot, her boots slid on an ice patch but she righted herself before wiping out. Carefully navigating her steps, she finally made it to her car. Relieved, she pressed the button to unlock the door. Her hand had just settled on the silver handle when she heard rapid footsteps on the asphalt behind her. She tensed. Continued to open the door.

Almost there.

She tossed the tote inside just as she heard, “Hannah.”

Shock enveloped her. No one had called her that name in over fifteen years.

A presence drew up beside her. Panicked now, she turned, lifted the canister in her hand and aimed at the deepest blue eyes she’d ever seen…a color she’d never forgotten.

DERRICK RECOILED AS Hannah’s hand rose, a small pepper spray canister in her grasp. She wasn’t really going to… Flinging his hands in the air, he ducked, then slipped on the ice, his feet skidding out from under him, arms flailing as he dropped with a loud whoosh.

Thankfully the fall kept him from the full force of the spray, but the dose that did reach his eyes made him cringe. He sucked in a sharp breath at the combination of burning eyes and skin on fire. His right hip took the brunt of contact with the solid ground, but he managed to roll and scramble upright again. Through the stinging tears, he saw Hannah, eyes wide, mouth open.

“Derrick?” she whispered.

He rapidly blinked his stinging eyes, flushing the pepper spray as best he could, and tried to ignore the jolt of pain radiating through his body.

His vision may be blurry, but he saw enough to know Hannah was still as achingly beautiful as he remembered. Her usually curly auburn hair was pulled back into a tight knot, her hazel eyes still as luminous as ever as they stared back at him. In disbelief, if he had to gauge her reaction. Her skin was like ivory, but he couldn’t miss the dark circles under her eyes. She was tall. Willowy.

He couldn’t stop the racing of his heart as he stood mere inches from her.

“Oh my gosh. I thought…” She stepped closer. “Are you okay?”

“I will be once I can see again.”

“I was sure someone was watching me.”

“Guilty as charged,” he mumbled.

She reached into her car and returned with tissues. Stuffed them in his hand. “If I had known…”

Derrick gently dabbed at his eyes. “How could you?”

“True, but I…” She leaned over, peering into his face. “It doesn’t look too bad.”

It wasn’t. He’d been sprayed full-on in training and knew he’d survive this attack. Still, the burning sensation was not receding.

“I scared you. It was my fault.”

“Should we go inside so you can flush the spray out?”

He blinked again, his vision clearing. “I’ll be fine.”

She looked doubtful, but instead asked, “Derrick. It’s really you?”

“In the flesh.” He balled up the tissue and stuck it in his pocket.

Her eyebrows angled together, the shock of seeing him finally hitting home. “How…how did you find me?”

“I got your street address from the package you sent. No one answered at your house, but a neighbor walking his dog told me where you work when I mentioned that I was an old friend.”