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Noah let out a whoop.
A toy, of course.
Becca hoped it was age appropriate so she wouldn’t have to be the bad guy. Again.
She carried the glasses and Noah’s plastic cup into the tiny living room. The torn bag was on the floor next to him. Amy was perched at the edge of the couch, holding two plain white envelopes as she watched Noah tear into the package.
“Don’t worry,” she said, taking her lemonade. “It’s a Lego truck. Age three and up.”
“Perfect.” Becca returned her smile. “Noah? I’m putting your cup right here.” She set it on the corner of the end table. “Look up, please.”
Grudgingly, he did.
“Do you see it?”
“Yes, Mommy. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Be careful you don’t spill it.” She sat next to Amy and watched him, noting his frustration at being unable to open the box quickly enough. She didn’t want it escalating into a tantrum.
“You’re so good with him,” Amy said softly, her gaze as wistful as her sigh.
“So are you. He loves it when you visit, or take him for an outing.”
“Yeah, but you’re here day in and day out. Plus work a full-time job. How do you have the patience?”
Becca smiled. “I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Seriously,” she added when Amy looked doubtful. “I still have faith you’ll get it together and leave you-know-who.” They were speaking softly, but Becca glanced over to make sure Noah wasn’t listening. “My new job pays a lot more, and I’m hoping to find a bigger place. You’ll be able to move in with us.”
Amy sniffled, not from a cold or allergies—it was the drugs. “Wouldn’t that be something?”
“It’s going to happen. You’ll see.”
“Sometimes your optimism really annoys the sh—crap out of me.”
“I know,” Becca said, laughing.
Amy smiled.
“Wow!” Noah freed the truck from its box and held it up high as he jumped up and down. “Neato.”
“Wow is right,” Becca said. “Did you thank your—” The word got stuck in her mouth.
“Yes,” Amy said, “he was very good and remembered to thank his aunt Amy.”
They didn’t speak for a while but watched Noah play with his toy and fill the silence with vroom sounds as he rolled the truck around.
“What time is it?” Amy asked suddenly.
Becca patted her pocket. Her phone was in the kitchen. “About six thirty, I think.”
Amy cursed under her breath. “I wish I could stay longer, but I don’t need Derek getting pissed off or paranoid.” She glanced at the envelopes in her hand, then looked at Noah. “I’m gonna do it,” she said in a quiet voice. “I’m gonna leave him.”
Not sure she’d heard correctly over Noah’s excitement, Becca leaned closer to Amy. “Derek?” she whispered. “You’re—”
Amy nodded. “I’ve stashed some money. It’s not much,” she said, pushing one of the envelopes at Becca, who refused it. “But it should help a little—”
“Wait. When?”
“Soon.”
“Soon? Come on, Amy. You can’t just—”
“Please, just listen. It’s important.” Amy’s voice shook. Her gaze darted to Noah, who was happily playing with his new toy and paying them no mind. “Derek’s going to meet someone at the border next week. I don’t know when for sure.”
“You’ll come here, right? He doesn’t know where I live.”
“I’m not coming anywhere near you or Noah. Not for a while.” Amy swallowed. “He’s dangerous, Bec.”
“I know.”
“No.” Amy’s eyes closed briefly. “You don’t.”
Becca bit her lip. Every part of her wanted to hang on to her friend so tight she couldn’t go back to that monster. When Becca had first met Derek, he’d been all dimples and charm. She’d seen him twice after that and thought something was off about him. But not Amy. She’d fallen hard and fast.
“Where will you go?”
“I don’t know yet. But I’ll call you. Take the money, Bec.”
“Okay, now you listen, because you aren’t thinking clearly. You’re going to need cash, a lot of it. First thing you should do is buy a phone he can’t track. They sell cheap ones, no contract. You don’t have to give your name or anything.” Becca’s mouth was so dry she had to stop and take a quick sip of lemonade. Damn, she wished she had more cash in the house. “What about a women’s shelter? You’d be safe. Even if he knew you were there, he couldn’t get to you—”
“Becca?”
“I still have some pamphlets.” She started to rise, but Amy caught her arm.
“Becca, I’ll be fine.”
“But you don’t even know where you’re going. You haven’t thought this through.”
“No, I haven’t, but only because I just found out he’ll be gone. Without dragging me along with him. That almost never happens. I can’t blow this shot.”
“You know the Mexican border is only four hours away. He might not be gone very long.”
“A deal went sideways, and he’s in deep shit over it.” A nasty smile lifted her lips. “He’s gotta make things right, whatever it takes.”
“So let’s make a plan. Right now. We can figure it out.”
Amy shook her head. “If I’m away too long, he’ll get suspicious,” she said, sniffling again and making Becca wonder if it was the next fix that had her anxious to leave. “I have money, okay? So don’t worry about that.” She inhaled deeply. “There is something you can do for me, though.”
“Name it.”
“If you don’t hear from me in a week, I’d like you to take Noah home, to Blackfoot Falls. To my family. His family. Let my mom raise him, out in the country where he’ll be safe and happy. Derek still doesn’t know anything about where we came from.”
Shock spread through every part of Becca’s body. Her mouth opened, but she couldn’t seem to make her jaw work.
“I know you’re surprised,” Amy said quietly.
“Surprised? Are you forgetting why we left in the first place?”
Amy slowly shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. “You can have your life back, Bec. I bet you haven’t had a date in five years.”
“You think I care about that?” Becca hadn’t meant to raise her voice. Thank God Noah was still occupied. “How can you ask me to put him in that—that environment?”
Amy dropped both envelopes on the couch. “If you don’t hear from me in a week, open the second envelope.”
Becca stared at it, her insides clenching. When she looked up, her friend looked away. “Amy, you’re scaring me. Let me help you.”
“It’s just a letter, but it’ll explain a lot. Just promise me you’ll wait the week.”
“Watch this...” Noah lifted the truck, pretending it was an airplane.
Amy turned and smiled at him. A tear slipped down her cheek and she dashed it away.
“Mommy, look.”
Becca managed a smile, and her “look at you,” sounded somewhat natural despite the fear churning in her stomach. “Don’t go back, Amy,” she pleaded, lowering her voice. “You’ve already made the decision. Just stay. I have clothes for you, anything you need...”
Amy stood. “If I wait till he’s gone, I’ll have a head start. God, I hope he doesn’t remember you worked at the restaurant. Don’t underestimate Derek—he might come looking for him,” she said, staring fearfully at Noah.
“Why?”
“For leverage. Hell, for just about anything, if it means saving his own ass.”
The air fled Becca’s lungs. “I’m begging you, Amy. Let me help you.”
“Remember, wait a week.” Amy took a step and stopped, her moist eyes dark with misery. “Please don’t hate me,” she whispered, then picked up Noah and hugged him so tight he whimpered. “Bye, little man. I love you with all my heart.”
“Amy, wait.”
“I love you, too, Becca,” she said, and was out the door before Becca could take another breath.
* * *
BECCA STOOD AT her bedroom window, staring out into the gathering darkness. A gang of rough-looking neighborhood kids huddled at the corner, oblivious to the police cruiser that had circled for the third time.
Six days, and not a word from Amy. Becca was a complete wreck. She tried to remember how they’d left it, exactly, but she’d been too rattled. Shouldn’t Amy have called by now? Just to let Becca know she’d gotten away from Derek. A few seconds. That’s all it would’ve taken.
Unless she couldn’t because the bastard had caught her.
Becca shuddered at the thought.
Trying to concentrate at work took all her energy. Hard to learn anything new with the attention span of a two-year-old. Her mind kept spiraling to dark places and robbing her of hope.
Her gaze strayed to the envelope she’d stupidly left in full view on the dresser. Every time she saw it her anxiety level rose. Twice now, she’d almost given in to curiosity. But, no, she hadn’t read the letter.
She had checked the envelope with the money, though. Not a huge amount, but more than she’d expected. Which bothered her. A lot. If Amy had truly thought she could escape, she would’ve known she needed every penny.
Becca briefly closed her eyes. Why had she let Amy leave? If she’d had just a little more time to convince her...
Noah stirred. Curled up on her bed, sound asleep, he wrapped one small arm around the pillow. It was seven thirty. If she didn’t wake him soon, tomorrow morning he’d be springing out of bed before the rooster crowed.
The thought surprised her. The saying had been one of her grandmother’s favorites. Even as the memory made Becca smile, it saddened her. She missed both her grandparents, but she’d been especially close to Grams. No kinder, more generous woman had ever walked the earth. Always ready to listen, never judging. Oh, how Becca would’ve loved her advice right about now.
Her cell rang, startling her. It wasn’t Amy, though.
Maureen managed the downtown restaurant where Becca used to work. The busy dinner hour was an odd time to call. “Hey, Maureen, what’s up?”
“Listen, I only have a minute and it’s probably nothing, but I thought you should know. Some creepy-looking dude was in here asking for you. Long hair, lots of tats, rides a Harley. Didn’t give his name.”
Becca’s heart nearly stopped. “How long ago?”
“Thirty minutes, maybe? We’re swamped or I would’ve called sooner.”
“No, that’s fine. I appreciate the heads-up.” Her voice sounded remarkably calm considering she could barely breathe. “What did you tell him?”
“Just that you didn’t work here anymore and I didn’t know where you were. I hope that was okay.”
“Perfect. Thank you.” She knew Maureen was curious, but the restaurant was busy and Becca easily ended the call.
She pressed a hand to her roiling stomach. Did this mean Amy had gotten away and he was looking for her? He would assume Becca knew her whereabouts. But if Amy had escaped, wouldn’t she have called? She knew Becca was worried...
In a few steps, she had the envelope in her trembling hand. She glanced at Noah, still asleep, before she tore through the flap.
The letter was short, written in Amy’s scratchy handwriting. Moving to the doorway where the light was better, Becca started to read.
Her stomach lurched with each sentence, and she finished in a stupor.
She blinked, but the haze wouldn’t clear.
Amy had lied. About her father, her brother, the abuse. About everything. And she’d used those lies to get Becca to come with her to LA.
Anger overwhelmed every other emotion spinning uncontrollably inside her. Becca hadn’t wanted to leave. She’d enrolled in community college, paid for it herself with her savings. She’d found a part-time job that had accommodated her school schedule, and best of all, she could’ve done it all while staying with her grandparents.
A sob slipped past her lips and she quickly covered her mouth.
Oh, God, how she’d hurt them, the two people who’d loved her more than anything else in the world. Who would’ve moved mountains for her. And she’d done it all for nothing.
The disappointment in Grams’s eyes the day Becca had left still haunted her. It would always haunt her. All because Amy had lied out of complete and utter selfishness. And her dad and brother? The hatred that had burned in Becca’s gut when she’d thought Ryder had—
Another sob threatened. She turned away from the bedroom at the same time her cell rang. Noah lifted his head, rubbing his eyes.
She didn’t recognize the caller’s number. Maybe the burner phone she’d suggested to Amy?
Becca answered quickly.
“You have something that belongs to me, bitch.” Derek’s menacing voice came through loud and clear. “And I want him back.”
Chapter Three
Blackfoot Falls had changed in the years since Becca had last been home. Lots of shops that had closed because of the poor economy were now open again, as well as new stores she didn’t recognize.
Someone had bought the old boardinghouse on the south side of town and turned it into a cute inn that kept the early-1900s feel intact. It would’ve been fun to stay there, but the new motel on the opposite end of town had larger rooms and was ten dollars cheaper. Since Becca had no idea how long they would be away, she needed to watch every penny.
After Derek’s call, she’d known she had to get out of town, and coming home was the most sensible option. Noah’s safety was her first concern while she waited for Amy to call. But if Amy didn’t, and that was a real possibility no matter how much Becca hoped otherwise, she needed a clear head to tackle the gut-wrenching decision that would change her and Noah’s life forever.
So she’d called her boss and pleaded for some personal leave due to a family emergency, which wasn’t a lie at all. She’d worried, though, about where they’d stay until she found out what was going on with her grandparents’ house. It was old to begin with, and being vacant for so long could mean it wasn’t move-in ready.
Becca was happy with her choice. Their second-floor room was clean and comfortable, the queen-size bed had a mauve and green comforter that matched the curtains. A small round table with two sturdy chairs stood near a window facing the Rockies. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d missed the mountains, and a sky that was actually blue.
It took her two trips to bring up their gear, three bags of ice and the cooler she’d packed with Noah’s snacks and drinks. Next on the list was a run to the Food Mart. After driving for sixteen hours, all she wanted was to curl up and sleep for a week. But they needed some reasonably healthy food they could eat in the room. Restaurant meals weren’t in her budget.
“Mommy, I’m hungry,” Noah said, almost on cue as they stepped out into the corridor.
“I know, sweetie. We’re going to the store right now.” She pulled the door closed and tested the knob to make sure the lock had engaged.
“I’m hungry now,” he whined and took her hand.
“Would you like an apple?”
He made a face.
Becca smiled, knowing he was hoping for a cookie. “Guess you’re not that hungry then, huh?”
He started to pout, then saw the elevator. “Mommy, let’s ride that again.” His hand slipped out of hers and he raced ahead. “I’ll push the button.”
“Wait. You don’t know which—” Sighing, she caught up to him just as the doors slid open. Oh, well, they’d ride up first. She held onto his arm. “Noah, don’t touch the button until I tell you. And no more running inside. You know better.”
His sulkiness didn’t last long. He was too excited about their big ’venture. Becca had encouraged the idea to keep his spirits up. Sometimes, when her mind started wandering to bad places, she needed the illusion herself.
The grocery store was only a five-minute walk but she took the car. Inevitably she’d be running into people she knew, and there would be questions. Many, many questions. But she wasn’t prepared to be an open target yet.
She thought again about Amy’s family and the decision that had to be made. Becca felt sick every time she remembered the vile thoughts she’d harbored toward the Mitchells. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she sometimes wished she’d discover that Amy hadn’t lied back then and that her letter was the lie. Maybe now that her father had passed and Ryder was married, she’d felt it was all right to bring Noah to her mother.
No, that was panic talking. Becca didn’t want the lies she’d believed to be true at all.
She sighed. This trip would tell her a lot. She just hoped she was strong enough to make the hardest decision of her life.
* * *
RYDER TURNED INTO the parking lot of the Food Mart, not at all surprised that it was jam-packed. He’d tried to warn his mom. With Thanksgiving in three days, naturally the place would be a zoo. Why so many people waited until the last minute was one of life’s eternal mysteries.
“There’s a spot,” she said, pointing. “Three down from the entrance. It’s a good thing we brought my car. Your truck never could’ve squeezed in.”
Ryder didn’t comment. He hated driving the compact. It was too uncomfortable for someone over six feet, but since her stroke, he knew getting in and out of the car was easier on her. Since she didn’t drive anymore, he’d considered trading it in for a medium-size sedan. But she loved the old Ford, and even after two years, her doctor insisted that a great deal of her problems were psychosomatic.
The prognosis had nearly earned poor old Doc Heaton a whack from his patient’s cane. She’d even used a couple of words Ryder was surprised she knew. He and the doc didn’t talk about it anymore...at least not in her presence.
On occasion, Ryder suggested she try setting the cane aside for an hour, just to see how she fared. She always looked so hurt that her only son didn’t believe her.
After he helped her out of the car, he brought her a shopping cart so she could lean on it instead of the cane.
In truth, she didn’t have to do any of the shopping. Otis came into town once a week to keep the bunkhouse well-stocked. He always offered to take her list with him. But Ryder knew this was more a social outing for her, so even though he’d rather have a tooth pulled, every week when he wasn’t away on business, he brought her to town.
Sometimes they’d go home with only a head of lettuce and a bag of carrots. Since he hadn’t provided her with a single grandchild before he and Leanne had divorced, he figured the penance could’ve been a lot worse.
While she ambled down each aisle, stopping every few minutes to talk, he headed over to the deli case. The ready-made food choices had expanded. Marvin, the owner, was stepping up his game.
“Are you sure you’re only four? You eat like a horse.” The woman’s voice sounded vaguely familiar. Ryder turned toward it.
“I’m not a horse. I’m a boy.” The kid was grinning and tugging on the woman’s hand.
She had her back to Ryder, her wavy brown hair spilling down just past her shoulders. Average height. Slim build. Wearing jeans and a sweater like most of the shoppers. Being a regular now, thanks to his mom, he’d gotten to know more people in the past two years than he had throughout most of his youth. But he didn’t know her.
Laughing, she grabbed a bag of chips off the shelf and dropped it into her cart.
Ryder still couldn’t get a look at her face.
“Oh, my word, I haven’t seen you in years.” Millie Perkins stopped her cart seconds from colliding with the mystery woman. “Becca, right? Becca Hartman?”
Ryder’s chest constricted. Becca? Here in Blackfoot Falls? Was Amy here, too?
“Nice to see you, Mrs. Perkins. How are you?”
“Oh, can’t complain. Wouldn’t do any good if I did, now would it? How’s your mom? Is she still living up in Alaska?”
“She sure is.”
“You have such an adorable little boy.” Millie smiled at him. “What’s your name, sweet pea?”
“I’m not a pea,” he said, scrunching up his face. “I’m a boy.”
Becca gasped. “Noah. Mind your manners.”
“Oh, he’s fine.” Millie bent to ruffle his hair.
Ryder grabbed a box of crackers and pretended to read the label, while he listened and studied Becca. Last time he’d seen her, she’d been eighteen and as thin as a fence post. He’d just married Leanne and they’d been working on plans for their new home when Becca had convinced Amy to run off with her.
His sister had sworn up and down she’d be back in a year, two tops. The plan had been to help Becca get settled, then come back to attend college an hour away. After Amy had missed three Christmases in a row, it was clear to Ryder that she’d made a new life for herself. And she wasn’t coming back. His parents had refused to believe it.
Ryder wished she’d had the decency to be straight with them. Whoever had coined the phrase blood is thicker than water had come up short.
“So are you here for good?” Millie asked.
That got Ryder’s attention again.
Becca shook her head. “Just visiting.”
“What about your friend? You know, Gail Mitchell’s girl,” Millie said. “Amy? Is she here with you?”
The stricken look on Becca’s face caught Ryder off guard. Her posture changed. She reached for her son’s hand. And when she finally smiled, he saw a slight quiver, and he knew in his soul that something had happened to Amy.
“No,” Becca said calmly. “Amy couldn’t make it.”
“Ouch.” The kid scowled at her. “You’re squeezing too hard.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie. I bet you’re hungry.”
He nodded vigorously.
“Let’s see what we can do about that.” Becca looked at Millie. “It was nice seeing you, Mrs. Perkins. Please give my best to Mr. Perkins.”
“Well, maybe we can have a cup of tea and a nice chat before you leave.” Millie glanced at the contents of Becca’s cart. “Looks like you’ll be here awhile.”
Becca laughed. “Have you forgotten how much a four-year-old can put away?” she said, already steering the cart and the boy around Millie.
“Oh, heavens, yes. I remember.”
Ryder did a quick mental calculation. The boy would’ve been two years old by the time Becca’s grandmother had died. As far as he knew, Shirley hadn’t mentioned anything about Becca having a kid. When it came to news from LA, his mom never skipped a word.
As soon as she made it past Millie, Ryder put the crackers back on the shelf. Time to see what Becca had to say about Amy to his face. He sidestepped the boxed stuffing display so he could cut her off, then remembered his mom. Dammit. He needed to get to Becca first.
He circled around the refrigerator case and stepped in front of her cart.
Eyes widening, she gasped. “Ryder.”
“Hello, Becca.”
“Hi.” Her gaze darted briefly to the boy. “This is a surprise.”
“That’s an understatement.”
“Right.” She cleared her throat. “I planned on calling you and your mom later.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“You know, after we settled in. We just got to town an hour ago.”
Okay, maybe she was telling the truth and she had intended to get in touch. But why look so nervous? “Where’s Amy?” he asked, holding Becca’s gaze.
She shook her head. Sadness flickered in her hazel eyes before she blinked and looked away. “I think she had other plans for the—” She pressed her lips together and swallowed.
“What? For Thanksgiving? Let’s see, that makes seven of them that she’s missed now?”
“I’m not her keeper,” Becca said, her voice barely a whisper. “Amy does what she wants.”
“Aunt Amy gave me a neato truck.” The kid grinned up at him. “You wanna see it?”
“Noah.” Becca tugged at his hand. “It’s not here.”
“It’s in the car.”
“No, it’s not...”
Ryder felt a surge of relief. He didn’t know what had given him the sick feeling that something had happened to his sister. If that were true, she wouldn’t be buying the kid toys. “Hey, sport, when did your aunt buy you the truck?”
“Sport?” The boy wrinkled his nose. “My name is Noah.”
“Ah.” Ryder knew Becca was watching them closely, and something sure was making her jumpy. What the hell did she think he was going to do to her kid? “Sorry. Noah.”
“What’s your name?”
“Ryder.” He stuck his hand out. “Pleased to meet you, Noah.”