Her Secret Son by Hannah Mary McKinnon

Author:Hannah Mary McKinnon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MIRA Books
Published: 2019-03-19T16:31:16+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

By the time the first signs of dawn slid in between the tattered curtains, I’d already been staring at the ceiling for an hour, listening to Logan, who was still fast asleep, sprawled out on his back with his mouth open. I got off the bed, pulled on the clothes I’d chucked in a heap on the floor and crept to the window without making a sound. The weather hadn’t brightened, but the rain had morphed into a constant drizzle, extending from the sky as if it were a net curtain. So much for the uncharacteristically warm weather.

When Cookie let out a quiet bark and hopped off the bed, I unlocked the door and we walked to the truck. My stomach grumbled. “You hungry?” I said, and she wagged her tail. “Yeah, me, too.”

I dug around the cooler for some bread and peanut butter, and a pack of puppy food. Once I’d checked Logan was still asleep, I pulled on my jacket, sat on the plastic chair underneath the covered deck outside the room, gave Cookie kibble and water, and watched the Saturday morning come to life as we ate.

The noise of the traffic on the main road slowly picked up, and bleary-eyed people emerged to load up their cars, moving on to what I hoped were pleasanter destinations. When a couple about my age walked out of the room two doors down, holding hands, kissing and laughing, an immediate pang of jealousy hit me. I looked away, envious because of what I’d lost, angry because I’d always question if it had ever been as real for Grace as it had for me and downright furious because I’d never know.

“Okay,” I said to Cookie, ordering myself not to dwell. “Let’s check on your master.” She yawned, looked at me with one eye and rested her head on her front paws. I smiled. “Come on, little lass.”

Logan sat up as soon as I opened the door, his face a mixture of sleep and confusion. “Where did you go, Dad? I woke up and you weren’t here. I was scared.”

“Right outside. Thought I’d let you sleep. How are you feeling?”

He stretched before flopping back down, burying his face in his pillow. “Better. But I stink,” he said, the words muffled.

I walked over and ruffled his hair. “Yes, you do a bit. Want to shower and see how you feel afterward? I’ll get some clean clothes ready for you.”

Ten minutes later, a citrus-smelling Logan emerged from the bathroom, his wet hair sticking up in a chicken-feathery mess. “I’m so hungry I want a whole pig for breakfast,” he said.

“No can do. You’re on water and crackers today,” I said as Logan stuck out his tongue. “Don’t pull a face. We have to be sure you’ve got rid of your tummy bug.”

He snuggled with Cookie on the way back to the campsite, and I made them both stay in the truck while I gathered the rest of our things, grateful the tent next to us was empty, too, so I could prepare myself for our next stop, one only I knew about.

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