Running Scared by Linda Ladd

Author:Linda Ladd
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 1999-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Eighteen

BOOKER JERKED AROUND, rifle gripped in his right hand, Joey riding his left arm. Kate Reed stood in the doorway wearing nothing but a skimpy white towel that barely reached her thighs. Her long blond hair dripped tangled down her back, her face frantic. He reacted as a man first, eyes riveted on her nearly naked body. It didn't take him long to get over that because she rushed down the steps, oblivious to anyone watching.

“What're you doing? Where're you taking Joey?"

The woman was panicked, and Booker put his gun on the seat of the four-wheeler and fended her off with a raised palm. “Whoa, now, lady, wait a minute. I just came out to hide the four-wheeler."

“You didn't have to take Joey! Give him back, give him back now!"

“All right, he's right here, take him.” Gladly he handed the infant over, watching her clutch the boy so tightly he let out a shrill complaint. “He was squirming around and I thought he'd roll off the bed. I didn't hurt him."

Kate Reed didn't look as though she believed him, and he tried not to notice how short the damned towel was and how long and shapely her bare legs were. He averted his eyes but not before she'd noticed where he was looking and what he was interested in. Whirling, she ran back inside with the baby. He waited for her to slam the door and barricade it against him, surprised when she didn't.

He wheeled the vehicle to the back and hid it in some bushes. Picking up the yellow plastic baby seat and the rest of the stuff he'd bought, he walked around to the front and peered up the road, hoping no one had witnessed their little public spectacle. He went back inside, not sure what to expect. She was in the bathroom with Joey, and he had a pretty good feeling she had the door locked good and tight. He put down the plastic grocery sacks, turned the lock and chained the front door. He waited a moment, then tapped a knuckle on the bathroom door.

“I got you some clothes. If you want, I'll hand them in."

Silence. Booker asked himself why he was doing this, going to all this trouble, buying the girl a damned wardrobe. He could have left anytime, before breakfast, after breakfast. Now. He could have left her unconscious at the bottom of the cliff and minded his own business. Damn it, she wasn't his problem and neither was the baby. He shook his head. He must be out of his mind to hang around and wait for a bullet to find him.

The bolt rattled, and Kate cracked the door. He stuffed the sack of clothes through the narrow opening, and she grabbed them, shut the door in his face and shoved the bolt home. He shouldn't have gawked at her body like some sex-starved teenager; she was shaky enough. He retook the chair and stared out the window. He should get up and leave.

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