Mountain Hideaway

“My mom’s dead,” she finally said, her voice just above a whisper.

“No, she’s not. You and I both know that.”

“Let me go. Let’s talk like two humans.” Her voice shook with emotion, yet based on the tight cadence of her words, she was trying to control her fear.

Guilt flashed through him. He hated for this to be his only means of talking to her. His mom had raised him better than this. But what else was he supposed to do? Drastic situations called for drastic actions.

He had his doubts, but he realized that acting as if she was his captive wouldn’t get him very far. Hesitantly, he released his clamp across her arms. “Fine. Let’s talk.”

As soon as she was out of his grasp, she darted to the kitchen counter and grabbed a knife from the butcher block. She held it in front of her. Even in the dark, Trent could see the desperate gleam in her gaze. “Step back.”

He raised his hands. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You break into my home, practically take me hostage and then tell me your intentions are golden? I don’t think so.”

“Don’t forget that I also let you go,” he reminded her, willfully trying to gain her trust. He knew he could easily work that knife from her hands, but he’d scared the woman enough already. “I didn’t want you to run away. That’s the only reason I grabbed you like that.”

“Justify it however you want. You need to get out of my house. Now.” She pointed toward the door with her knife.

“I just want to talk. Besides, this isn’t your house, is it?”

She held the knife higher, her chin rising in stubborn determination. “I thought I made myself clear. Get out. Now.”

Trent took another step back, hoping the woman would realize he didn’t want to hurt her. He couldn’t blame her for doubting that. “Your mom has been searching for you.”

The dark concealed her face, but he sensed her shoulders slumping. “Like I said, my mom is dead.”

“You and I both know you’re lying, Theresa.” He watched her face as he used her name. He only wished there was more light so he could see. Any of the small hints she might offer to prove he was telling the truth were erased by the darkness.

“That’s not my name.” Her voice shook even harder. “I’m Tessa Jones.”

“Your name is Theresa Davidson.” She was thinner now. Her hair was long and light brown when it used to be shoulder length, curly and blond. But he’d been searching for six months, and he felt certain this was the woman he was looking for. “I’m Trent McCabe, by the way.”

“I’m going to call the police.” Her words didn’t sound remotely convincing.

“Go right ahead. I’ll wait here while you do it.” Their conversation felt a bit like a game. He’d made his move, she’d made hers and they continued to go back and forth. Trent knew good and well that she wouldn’t call the police. She had too much at stake. People who wanted to disappear did not call the police.

“Why are you doing this?” Her voice cracked with desperation. “I’m giving you the chance to leave. Please. Just go.”

“You have a lot of people who are concerned about you.” Seeing the worry in her loved ones’ eyes had been enough to compel him to stick with this case long after the time and funds had run out. He’d seen something in her family that he’d seen in himself all those years ago: pain and hurt. If possible, he wanted to spare them any more heartache.

“You have the wrong person.” She said each word slowly, forcefully. It was almost as if she was trying to convince herself of the truth.

But Trent heard the emotion there. The doubt. The fear. The moment of hesitation. There was no question this was the right woman.

But she wasn’t going to give this whole act up now. He didn’t know what had driven her to come here, to hide for all these months. But it must be a strong reason.

Whatever it was, she wasn’t budging. He had to think of a different approach because this one certainly wasn’t working. She wasn’t in the right emotional state to change her mind.

“Okay, okay. Look, I’m sorry to have scared you.” He took a step backward. “I’ll leave.”

He kept backing up until he reached the front door. A moment of hesitation hit him, and he started to try to persuade her again, but thought better of it. The woman was spooked. The fear that he’d seen in those big blue eyes of hers would make sure that any pleas for logic would go unheard.

He couldn’t actually see the blue, but he remembered it from the photos of Theresa. Her eyes had been one of her most striking features. He recalled the earnest, sincere look—it was one that couldn’t be faked.

He’d guess that this woman hadn’t lost that sincerity, either. The warmth in her eyes was something that was a part of her. The ability to show her character with one look, expressing deep emotions, communicating without a word.

Kind of like Laurel. His heart ached at the memory.

He gripped the doorknob, took one last look at the shadowy woman who still stood on guard and stepped outside.

Just as he did, a bullet pierced the air.

TWO (#ulink_a39ac115-cb65-5afa-a329-94d46ba2fb00)

Tessa froze at the sound. Someone was shooting! There was more than one person who’d shown up here. She should have known better.

Before she could react, the man—the intruder—dived back into the house and slammed the door. “Get down!”

She must not have been moving fast enough, because he threw himself over her. The knife flew from her hand and clattered to the corner.

“We’ve got to get out of here!” he grumbled.

She stiffened with alarm at the very suggestion. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“I’m not the one firing at you.” His breath was hot on her cheek, and his closeness caused heat to shoot through her. She’d been so isolated that human touch seemed foreign, surreal. In order to survive, she’d been forced to keep her distance from people.

“This could all be an elaborate scheme on your part,” she said through clenched teeth. “Elaborate being the key word.”

“I promise you that I’m on your side. I don’t want to die, either, and if we stay here, that’s what’s going to happen.” He looked at her a moment. “Can you trust me?”

“I don’t even know you! Of course I can’t.”

“You’re going to have to decide who you trust more, then—me or the men shooting outside your house.”

“Neither!” Her answer came fast and left no room for uncertainty.

As a bullet shattered the front window, his gaze caught hers. “Please, Ther—Tessa. I don’t want you to get hurt. Your family would be devastated if you were. These men must have followed me here.”

Something in the man’s voice seemed sincere, and the mention of her family softened her heart. What if they had hired someone to find her? She could see them going to those measures.

She’d known when she disappeared they would worry. But what else could she have done? Leo would kill them, too, if they knew too much. Leaving without giving them a reason had been the hardest thing she’d ever done.

Tessa snapped back to the present and realized that she had little choice at this point but to go along with this Trent guy. Hesitantly, she nodded. “Fine, I’ll trust you for now.”

“Good. Now we’re getting somewhere. We’ve got to get out here and make it to my Jeep. I’m sure those men outside have got their eyes on the doors. Are there any other exits?”

“The basement. We can escape from the storm cellar. The door opens at the other side of the hot tub. The exit is hard to see, especially with the leaves covering the ground at this time of year.”