Every Waking Moment

“Manuel, are you there?” Richard asked.

“Call Hector and everyone else. Tell them to get their asses to Fallon.”

“Don’t you want to go there yourself?”

“I’m on my way. But Fallon’s not very big. If she’s there, it shouldn’t be hard to find her. What we have to do is set up an outside perimeter. How far could she have traveled from Fallon if she left around the time the cops found her car? We’ll mark that on a map. Then some of us will stay in Fallon and the rest will fly to the outer line of that perimeter and slowly move in toward the center.”

“Sounds smart,” Richard said.

It was smart. Finding that car was the lucky break he’d been waiting for.

AT EUREKA, Preston took over the driving. The change woke Max, who wasn’t too happy about having to get back in the van after their brief stop. But Preston was glad to trade seats with Emma. The nap had revived him, and he felt more comfortable behind the wheel. Soon they’d reach Ely, then Wendover. Beyond Wendover, they’d have a final two-hour stretch across the salt flats, then they’d arrive in Salt Lake City.

“When can we eat?” Max asked.

Preston could see Emma fighting sleep. At the sound of her son’s voice, she jerked her drooping eyelids open and looked at Preston. “Do you think we could get some dinner in Ely?”

He nodded, wanting to tell her she could go ahead and relax. A normal person, a person with any compassion, would do that. But Max was wide-awake and talkative, and Preston didn’t want to be left alone with him. The memories crowded too close.

“We’ll stop soon,” she told her son.

“When?” Max asked.

“In about an hour.”

“An hour! That’s too long.”

Preston felt the same way. Glaring down at the odometer, he willed the miles to pass more quickly.

“Hey, Mom. There’s a rabbit!”

Max’s squeal of excitement startled Emma, who’d been about to nod off again. “What, honey? What did you say?”

“Did you see it? Huh, Mom? Did you see it?”

She covered a yawn. “See what?”

“The rabbit,” Preston muttered.

The exasperation in his voice acted like a jolt of caffeine. It also resurrected the tense expression she’d worn earlier. “Sorry,” she said, but he didn’t know if she was talking to him or to Max.

“You’re not looking,” Max complained.

“I am now,” she said.

Preston watched Emma gather whatever reserves of strength and patience she had left and turn toward the window, presumably in search of wildlife. But he couldn’t expect her to continue acting as a buffer between him and her son. He couldn’t be that much of a jerk. He didn’t know her whole history, but he was beginning to understand that her life hadn’t gone much better than his. If he was going to drop her off in Salt Lake, the least he could do was let her get some sleep along the way.

Still, he cringed at the thought of dealing directly with Max.

He put off what his conscience dictated, hoping the guilt would recede. But it didn’t, so he finally reached out and squeezed her shoulder.

When he touched her, she gaped at him in astonishment.

“Go to sleep,” he said briskly.

She shook her head. “I’m getting my second wind.”

“Bullshit. You’re exhausted.”

“Did you say the ‘s’ word?” Max asked.

“Max, it’s none of your business,” Emma warned.

“He said the ‘s’ word, Mom. I heard him.”

“That’s okay,” she replied. “It’s not up to us to tell Mr. Holman how to speak, especially in his own car.”

“Can I say the ‘s’ word?”

“Absolutely not.”

“He did.”

“I’m bigger than you,” Preston chimed in. “When you’re my age, you can decide what words to use.”

Max seemed satisfied with this answer, but not thirty seconds later Preston heard him murmuring, “Shit…shit, shit, shit.”

Evidently, Emma heard him, too, because she twisted in her seat. “Max! What do you think you’re doing?”

Preston adjusted the rearview mirror to see Max’s eyes widen. “Practicing,” he said innocently.

Emma shook her head, and Preston couldn’t help laughing. “Rest,” he told her. “You can worry about cleaning up his language later.”

“You’re smiling,” she said as though she was amazed that he could.

Preston instantly sobered. “Just get some sleep.”

“If my son says shit one more time, you’re going to have to take us all the way to Iowa.”

“Do you really have family there?”

With a yawn, she laid her head back. “No.”

EMMA CLOSED HER EYES but refused to relax completely. She had to remain cognizant of what went on in the car. Although she was beginning to doubt that Preston was really as unfeeling as he wanted her to believe, he made no secret about his dislike of children. She’d seen the way he looked at her son, as if he couldn’t bear the sight of him, and had no intention of letting Preston say or do anything unkind to Max while she slept.

“Are we almost there?” Max asked.

Knowing this question would probably annoy Preston more than any other, because Max asked it so often, Emma tried to summon the energy to answer. But Preston responded before she could, and with far more patience than she’d expected.