“Let’s eat.” He turned back to the diner and she followed without hesitation this time. She wanted a meal, just one big, hot meal to get her through the next two days until she made it to Denver. Then she would be home-free for the rest of her life.
The day after tomorrow, she would turn thirty. Her money would be hers, free and clear. She needed to get to a bank. Denver was the closest large city.
What she wouldn’t give to stop moving, to find a small place to live—nothing ostentatious, just a modest roof over her head and three square meals a day—but that would require a permanent job. To get one she would have to provide a social security number. Once that happened, her freedom would be gone, and that she wouldn’t give up.
If she could access her money, her problems would be solved. She could buy a new identity. She could buy a small house somewhere. If she lived normally without extravagant spending, she would be okay for life. No one would ever need to know who she really was.
Inside the crowded restaurant, Austin’s friend sat in a booth. When he saw her beside Austin, the corners of his mouth turned down.
“What are you doing?” he asked. “Who is she?”
“She’s having lunch with us. I invited her. Her name’s Gracie.” He gestured for her to slide into the booth across from the other guy. She did. “Gracie, this is Finn Franck Caldwell.”
She nodded to him while Austin slid into the booth beside her. He took up a lot of room. She studied both men. About the same age, she guessed, or close to it. Early thirties. Finn wasn’t as big as Austin, but he looked equally as fit.
It didn’t take a genius to see Finn wasn’t happy she was here. Tough. As if that was going to hold her back from a free meal. At least, Austin had assured her there were no strings attached. She wasn’t yet sure she believed him 100 percent.
A harried waitress brought menus. “Coffee?”
“Yes,” they all said and she returned a minute later with a full pot.
Gracie doctored hers with plenty of sugar and cream, sipped it, sighed and sipped again. Nothing had ever tasted better than this hot drink sliding down her throat.
When she opened her eyes, she found both men staring at her.
“What?” she asked, defensive.
“Nice to see someone appreciate a good cup of coffee, that’s all.” Austin had a strong voice, deep and rich like the coffee in her cup. He could make a fortune with that beautiful voice. “What do you want to eat?”
All of it.
She studied the menu. “How much can I spend?”
“As much as it will take to fill your belly.”
His friend still hadn’t said anything. He didn’t have to. The flare of his nostrils signaled his disapproval.
“I’m paying him back,” she shot at Finn, because she wasn’t the deadbeat he thought she was.
“How?”
She turned to study the bench hog beside her. Cripes, he was big. “What do you need?”
Finn snorted and she glared at him. “Not that.”
She turned back to Austin and glanced at his messy hair. “You could use a haircut. I’ll do that.”
Without waiting for a response, she gave her attention over to the menu as though it were the Holy Grail. She couldn’t waste another minute talking. The sooner she ordered, the sooner she could kill the pain in her gut. Perusing the options, she blinked to clear mistiness from her eyes. Not tears. No. She was just tired, but God, look at the choices. Saying yes to one thing meant saying no to another.
When the waitress returned, Gracie ordered steak and eggs, because she would need the protein to get her to Denver. Not many truckers picked up hitchhikers anymore, not like they used to. How could she blame them? The world was a dangerous place.
She thought back to when she was a teenager flirting with veganism. These days, she was far more practical. She needed meat.
This afternoon, and for the next few days, she’d be hoofing it toward Denver. As always, she broke the trip down into segments. If she could make it as far as the next small town by this evening, she might be able to work a full day tomorrow and get herself a cheap motel room for the night. Maybe grab a hot shower before continuing on to Denver and visiting a bank. She should look respectable for that.
If someone would hire her for the day, that is.
The meal came with hash browns and toast.
“Do you have rye bread?”
“Sure, but I have to charge you an extra dollar for it.”
Gracie avoided looking at Austin. “Make my toast rye, and bring marmalade. And I want rice pudding for dessert.” She would need the iron from the raisins. “And a large glass of milk.” Lately, she’d been worrying about calcium. Were her bones weakening because she wasn’t getting enough? Would she pay for it later in life?
Her head still pounded, especially as she wondered whether she’d made the right choice in running away. Then she thought of her mom and dad, and that jerk Jay, and the circus her life had been, and her regrets faded.
Better to be on the road than to be involved in that again, but some days she was so tired she just wanted to quit. Then she would remember she already had. How did a person go about quitting...quitting?
Get your hands on your money.
That will solve your problems.
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_dd222b3b-f882-5cb0-bd73-00ba1f529286)
GRACIE ATE LIKE a half-starved animal, which Austin guessed she was. Man, could she pack it away.
“Careful,” he warned. “Don’t make yourself sick. You’re putting all of that into an empty stomach. You’ll fill up too quickly.”
“I can take care of my own stomach.” She stopped eating. “Sorry,” she said. She must have realized her tone had been caustic and remembered that he was paying for her meal. Austin almost laughed. He figured if she’d been on the road awhile, on her own, she’d learned to take care of herself pretty well.
She was a prickly one, all right.
“We going to get a move on soon?” Finn nursed the last of his coffee. Both he and Austin had finished their meals, but then they’d ordered less than Gracie had, and she was still plowing through hers.
Finn was still watching him, as he’d done all through lunch, but Austin had avoided his gaze. Now he met Finn’s cynical glare head-on. Finn’s left eyebrow sat cocked. The man could carry on whole conversations with his unruly eyebrows.
That raised brow said everything he wouldn’t utter in front of the woman. They’d been best friends for more than fifteen years. Austin could almost read Finn’s mind, imagined every word he wouldn’t say out loud.
Are you for real, Austin? We’re on the road, on vacation, and you pick up a stray? You can’t stop yourself from helping people, can you? Not even on vacation.
Ready to defend his actions, Austin halted at the quirk of Finn’s lips, because the man was glancing from his scratched cheek to the small woman beside him.
Again, man, really? You let that little thing get the better of you? Some cop you are.
Austin wanted to say she was stronger than she looked, but shame had him holding his tongue. And a certain odd loyalty to the woman he’d only just met. Then his humor kicked in and he grinned and shrugged.
Finn grinned, too, and the tension between them eased.