“Yes, I do.” His hand trembled when he let it drop to his side. Relief she had allowed that much? Fear that he wanted more? He didn’t know.
Rachel held his gaze for a long silent moment, grateful that he hadn’t looked away as he so often did. The depths of his dark-brown eyes seemed kind and compassionate to her, but then, they had last spring, too. She wanted to trust what he was saying. Oh, how she wanted it. But, with the memories came that ever-present fear.
Suddenly aware of how close he was and too tempted to lean into his comforting strength, she stepped away. “I’ll talk to my dad when he gets home.”
“Good.”
“I’m not that keen about taking the kids out of school,” she said. “They’ll fall behind.”
“Are you saying that you’ll agree to go into a safe house?” he asked, leaning against the kitchen counter and looking as though he belonged here. She remembered thinking so last spring. She’d been a fool then. She could only hope she wasn’t now.
As the memory of Graden’s threats surfaced again, she closed her eyes. Micah hadn’t questioned any of that being real, and that was something, at least. It was the first time anyone had taken her seriously in a while. Finally she nodded.
“Good,” he said, once more. “Now about having someone keep an eye on you—”
“We’ll cross that bridge tomorrow. Since all this happened just this afternoon, Mr. Graden can’t expect that I’ll deliver tonight.”
“If I were him,” Micah said, “I’d be expecting you to run.”
“Where would I go?”
“People who run don’t need a place to go—merely something to run from.”
As unsettling as the suggestion was—especially since she’d had that very thought—Rachel shook her head. “He’s not going to do anything tonight.”
“I’ll stay.” He waited until she looked at him. “Keep a watch out. Allow you to get a full night’s sleep and maybe erase those circles under your eyes.”
“No.” She had circles under her eyes? Disconcerted that she wanted to look good for him, she looked away from his penetrating gaze. With effort, she brought her thoughts back to the topic at hand. Him staying and watching over her and her children. She decided that she had lost her mind since she was far too tempted to take him up on his offer. Too tempted to trust him. Under the circumstances, that was stupid. “We’ll be fine tonight.”
Micah couldn’t blame her for refusing the offer. She had no reason to trust him. He picked up his glass and took a healthy swallow of tea while she watched him, the silence between them just as tense as their conversation had been.
“What’s your schedule tomorrow?” he asked.
“I’ve got to be at the motel before six-thirty,” she said with a slight shake to her head. “I’d forgotten all about that. Tomorrow is my first full day on the new job. Six-thirty to two-thirty.”
“And the kids, what do they do until school starts?”
“Dolly Jackson comes over. She’s a sixteen-year-old who lives two doors down. She walks them to school and my dad picks up Andy when kindergarten lets out at noon, except for the days when he’s gone.”
“Like tomorrow?”
“Then Andy goes home with Jeremy Simpson and I pick him up after I get off work.” Rachel was back to her nervous cleaning while she talked. “I guess I should talk to their teachers—let them know the kids will be out of school for a while.”
Micah was glad to hear the kids were still friendly with some of their classmates, since it was clear that Rachel had been shunned by many of her supposed friends.
“I’d rather you didn’t. That would immediately telegraph to Graden that you’re not going to cooperate. Tomorrow, you need to go through your day just as normal, and when the kids get out of school tomorrow afternoon, I’ll have things set up.” When she didn’t look at him or respond, he tacked on, “Okay?”
“Okay,” she agreed with a quick nod.
Micah drained the last of the tea, put on his hat, and headed for the back door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
He went outside and paused at the bottom of the stoop, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness of the backyard, waiting for her to close and lock the door behind him.
“Micah,” she called from inside the screen.
“Yeah.” He turned around and drank in the sight of her framed by the light above the kitchen table.
“This isn’t going to get all fouled up like the last investigation, is it?”
Making sure that he was looking straight at her, he said, “I’ll do my best to make sure that it doesn’t.” He took off his hat and cleared his throat. “I hate what happened to you, Rachel, and if I had it to do over—I’d do a lot of things different this time.”
She stared at him a long moment before murmuring goodnight and closing the door. He stood motionless until he heard the click of the lock, then headed around the side yard. Deep within the shadow of the big blue spruce between her house and her neighbor’s, he came to a stop, studying the street as far as he could see in both directions. Only a couple of parked cars on the block and they looked empty. No telltale movements or shifting of shadows that indicated Rachel’s house was being watched.
Only then did he head for his car where he began making the calls that would ensure Rachel’s safety.
The next day was the longest ever for Rachel. Her imagination galloped in a dozen different directions. Though Micah had been at the house when she left for work, assuring her that he’d keep an eye on the kids as they went through their day, she worried. And she kept worrying until she picked Andy up from the Simpsons’ house, following the normal routine. Despite Micah’s promise to watch over them, if he was anywhere around, she didn’t see him.
“Jeremy got a basketball hoop for his birthday,” Andy told her the minute his seatbelt was fastened, and they were on their way. “I think we need one. We could put it on the side of the driveway next to the garage.”
“Need, huh?” They’d had the talk several times about the difference between need and want. She had promised both of the kids they would have everything they needed, but for a while they might not have the things they wanted.
When she looked at him through the rearview mirror, he grinned. “It’s real cool, Mom, but I guess I don’t need one.”
“Tell me about your day at school.”
“We did all kinds of stuff and then Cindy Mac-Allister threw up and there was a great big mess and, boy, did it stink. Mrs. Wells said that’s ’cause of bacteria. Did you know that, Mom?”
“I’d heard that.” Rachel turned onto their street, her breath catching when she realized the car that had been behind them turned onto the quiet street also. “What else did you do?”
“I don’t remember.”
His not remembering was the usual, and Rachel knew that his day would come out in bits and pieces between now and bedtime.
The Jeep Wrangler that Micah had been driving when he came to the door this morning was in front of her house, the sight familiar, somehow, and reassuring. As always, the doubts immediately surfaced, despite Micah’s looking her straight in the eye, everything about him proclaiming he’d told her the truth.
She’d thought about their conversation for a good part of her sleepless night, eventually deciding he had no reason to lie this time, no reason to be here except for the one he’d told her. Maybe her dad was right. Maybe the first step was to begin trusting again.
She turned into the driveway and pressed the garage opener. Through the open side door, Rachel saw a woman about her own age sitting at the picnic table talking on a cell phone. When she saw Rachel, she waved and stood up.
“Mom, there’s a stranger in our backyard,” Andy announced.
“Yes, there is.” Rachel unfastened her seatbelt and looked back at her son. “Why don’t you sit here for a minute while I find out what she wants.”
“Aw, Mom. I need to get a snack.” He fumbled at his own seatbelt. “Need, Mom. I’m starving.”
“Just give me a minute.” By the time she got out of the car, the woman was halfway across the lawn, a welcoming smile on her face. Not smiling back was impossible.
“I’m Erin Asher,” she said, pulling a wallet from her pocket and extending it to Rachel. “Micah sent me ahead. In fact, he’s right behind you.”