When the clump of towering firs began to thin, he pressed the brakes and pulled out binoculars, scanning in the morning light filtering through the evergreen branches. She watched his expression for a hint….
His jaw flexed.
“What?” She couldn’t keep the hope from her voice. “What do you see?”
He passed the binoculars to her. The casing still warm from his hands, she whipped them up to her eyes, pointed them where Jacob had looked last and found…
A blue truck with a camper attached to the back.
Someone was actually here, in the deserted area where a cell phone call had come through. Blane and Evan? The curtains were closed, so she had no way of knowing if anyone was inside, but still…
She prayed the camper didn’t hold a group of hunters. “I guess we have to wait for them to step out or for the police to show up.”
“That would be wise.” He reached to squeeze her arm before taking back the binoculars. “We can still watch. If they are inside and he tries to leave with Evan, we can stop him.”
The conviction in his voice left her with no doubts. Jacob would die before letting her son get away again.
Die?
For the first time she realized she’d pulled him into a potentially lethal situation. Blane had already tried to kill her once, had tormented her with the lipstick incident. And she gave far more credence to those moments when she’d felt someone was watching her. But she knew Jacob wouldn’t turn away now. She also knew he wouldn’t be going into this alone.
Hopefully neither of them would if the police showed up soon.
Jacob sat up straighter in his seat.
“What do you see?” She tugged at his arm. Damn it, why hadn’t he brought two sets of binoculars?
“Stay here.” He turned to leave. “I’ll be right back.”
She grabbed his shoulder. “Sit here? You’ve got to be out of your mind. I’ve had enough of sitting and waiting to last a lifetime. Two lifetimes even.” She thought of how often her parents had made all the decisions, and later how Blane had pushed her into the life he wanted for her. She wouldn’t be shoved aside to a passive role any longer. “I will not lounge around while you play Rambo.”
Jacob’s mouth twitched in an almost grin.
Dee swatted his arm, frustration leaving her nerves tattered. “Don’t laugh at me. I’m serious.”
His face smoothed into genuine concern. “I know you are, but so am I. There’s a man walking around, a guy wearing some kind of parka with a hood up, but he looks like your ex-husband.”
She grabbed the binoculars from his hands and peered through until she saw…the back of a man in heavy winter gear. His height was right, but she couldn’t tell anything more unless he faced her, which, damn it all, he didn’t do before disappearing behind the camper.
She dropped the binoculars to her lap. “I can’t tell if it’s him.”
Jacob reached for his door. “I’ll try for a closer look, then.” He turned back for the binoculars. “I’ll be right back. I promise. Lock the doors.”
She realized she wouldn’t be able to sway him. And Evan might not be there, in which case she was wasting valuable time arguing with Jacob.
“Be careful.” Dee flipped up the collar of his coat and kissed him, hard.
All the shared passion of the night before linked her to him. She could have sworn his kiss held the same for those hungry five seconds until he broke away.
Before she could find the breath to speak, Jacob ducked out of the truck and strode away. His boot prints in the snow left lengthy-strided reminders of his strength.
How long would she have to wait? Long enough to go stir-crazy, no doubt. She eased her door open so she could listen better.
Wind whistled through the evergreens in gusts. Snow-laden branches swayed in a creaking dance overhead. The occasional icicle crackled, snapped, spiraled down to spike into the snow inches away from Jacob. He circled left, ducking around a fir. To her right, wind chimes tinkled on the breeze like a child’s sweet laugh.
A child’s laugh?
Dee held herself immobile and strained to listen, half certain her intense wishful thinking made her imagination play tricks on her. The high-pitched lilt sprinkled the air again. Definitely a wind chime. Was there someone singing along in time? Her hope burned so intensely she worried about trusting her own ears.