Witness On The Run

“How well do you know her?”

Cam rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Her husband was a trucker. He died on the Dalton. Since then, I’ve been coming around to do chores for her.”

“Do you really trade services?”

“She gives me a discount. Also, I like it.”

“You like helping women?”

“I like splitting logs.”

She studied his face with skepticism. “Is there anything else you enjoy doing for her?”

He smiled at her question. “Like what?”

“You know what.”

“She’s pushing seventy. My generosity doesn’t extend quite that far.”

Tala set her coffee mug aside. “These cabins aren’t cheap. Even if she hired me, I couldn’t afford to stay here.”

“I can afford it.”

She shook her head in refusal. She wouldn’t allow herself to depend on him, or anyone else, and it pissed him off. She had no belongings, no money, no job, no resources. She didn’t even have a change of clothes. But she’d rather strike out on her own than kick back in this cozy cabin on his dime.

What was wrong with her? What was wrong with him, for that matter?

He should never have given her a ride in the first place. His contract prohibited picking up hitchhikers. She was clearly in trouble with the law. He should be cutting her loose, not trying to keep her around. He didn’t understand what he was doing. He’d made a series of bad decisions upon meeting her. Emotional decisions that threatened his current, stark existence. He’d brought her inside his rig to get warm, and warmed himself in the process.

If he wasn’t careful, the protective layer of ice he’d been hibernating under would thaw. Then the real pain would come.

“At least let me buy you a change of clothes,” he said. She had nothing to wear. He wasn’t leaving her on a street corner without any pants. “I have to go to Walmart and get some supplies anyway.”

She nodded her agreement and ducked into the bathroom to get ready. She had to borrow his sweatpants. Even with the drawstring tightened, they rode low on her hips. Her black waitress shoes were for indoor use only. She needed warm clothes and winter boots no matter what her future plans were. She couldn’t job-hunt in her old uniform, or his pajamas.

The big-box store was about five miles away. He parked on the outskirts of the lot and accompanied Tala inside. He grabbed a cart, swamped by memories of Jenny. Their Sunday shopping trips. Rainy mornings in Seattle. They’d been good together. They’d been content.

He headed toward the women’s clothing department, where Tala browsed the racks. She selected black leggings and an oversize sweatshirt. When he gestured for her to continue, she added a pair of jeans to the cart. They strolled through another section with packages of socks and underwear. She chose basic white cotton, seeming embarrassed.

“That’s all you want?” he asked.

“You don’t have to buy the whole store.”

“This is Walmart. Everything’s cheap.”

“I’m going to owe you.”

“Consider it a gift.”

“No,” she said, her face solemn. “I’ll pay you back.”

Warmth suffused his chest at her assertion. He admired her pride, even though he cursed her stubbornness. The thought of reuniting with her after he returned from the Dalton appealed to him—and not because he wanted to collect on a debt. He’d like to see her again, despite his wariness toward women, and his general misgivings about the trouble she was in.

“You should let me introduce you to Ann,” he said.

She continued walking alongside him, not answering. It was a good sign, he supposed. She hadn’t refused outright. They found the shoe racks. He left his cart at the end of the aisle and accompanied her on the search for practical footwear.

“You know what you said about moving on?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“I have to do that, too. I have to keep moving.”

“You’re running away from your problems.”

“And you aren’t?”

He didn’t answer. Of course he was. They both were.

“If you stay in the same place, your past catches up with you.” She turned to study the opposite side of the aisle. “When I first came to Alaska, I went from town to town. I hitchhiked here and there. I didn’t feel safe unless I was on the go. It took me almost a month to settle down in Willow.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that she didn’t have to run anymore. He could help her. He used to be a cop. His brother was still a cop. Cam could make some inquiries about her husband. He could probably have the guy arrested, with or without Tala’s cooperation. Cam didn’t extend the offer, because he sensed it wouldn’t go over well. She didn’t trust the police, obviously. She wouldn’t trust him if she knew he’d been a patrol officer.

He also had his own issues with faith and justice. And family, for that matter. Calling his brother would open him up to uncomfortable questions. He’d disconnected from everyone in Washington. He hadn’t spoken to Mason since Thanksgiving.

He massaged the nape of his neck, feeling guilty. It was better to keep his secrets and protect his privacy. Stay distant. Stay numb.

She reached into a large box on a lower shelf and fished out a pair of sturdy black boots. They looked warm and practical, with faux fur trim. She sat down on the floor to try them on. “They fit.”

He grunted his approval. “What else do you need?”

She walked back and forth to test the comfort of the boots. Then she removed them. “This is more than enough, Cam.”

“You don’t have to pay me back.”

“I want to. How long will you be on the Dalton?”

“Three days, maybe.”

“Do you have a cell phone?”

“Of course, but there’s no service. You can leave a message.”

“Give me the number.”

He handed her a business card with his information. She tucked it into the front pocket of his flannel.

“You can go to the cabin anytime. I’ll tell Ann to run a tab.”