Page 20 of Double Take

A deer bounded up from the draw and sprinted across the road.

“Watch out!” he yelled.

She slammed on the brakes and jerked the steering apparatus hard.

The vehicle fishtailed on the wet road and careened over the embankment.

Chapter Eight

Her entire body ached. Her head hurt, too, and somebody kept jostling her—and spraying water in her face. She turned her head away from the annoyance—to press against a warm, damp, hard…shoulder? Faith’s eyes flew open to dusky light. Strong, hard male arms held her against a broad chest covered by heavy fabric.

She raised her head to catch a glimpse of her husband’s scruffy square jaw.Mark?Wh-what?

“Thank goodness.” The arms around her tightened. “How are you feeling?”

John.Fogginess dissipated. “Like I crashed into a tree.” She remembered the deer, the skid, the roll. And the precipitating transformation that diverted her attention. An insidious little thought slipped out of the shadows. If John could transform himself into Mark, couldn’t Mark transform himself into John? What if he had been messing with her all along?

“No tree,” he said. “But we did quite a roll.”

He couldn’t fool Rusty. And he ate the nuts.

But Rusty had never met Mark. And what if he’d dosed himself with epinephrine?

That’s elaborate, even for Mark.

More than the clone story?

The water sprinkling her face was rain. He was carrying her uphill through the rain. Crazy ideas faded away, and she got a wild urge—to just relax against him.

“I can walk,” she said.

“Not yet. You hit your head when the vehicle flipped.”

“Which doesn’t affect my legs.” Although it explained the knot. She touched the sore spot on her head.

“It can affect your balance. You were unconscious for a bit. You might have a concussion.”

“Is the vehicle all right?” The beater was all she and Amity could afford.

“I’m more concerned about you than the transport,” he said.

“I’m fine.”

“The roof is crushed. The hood, doors, and fenders are caved in. I had trouble getting the door open and getting us out.”

If the vehicle had sustained such damage, the pottery must have been reduced to dust. Faith moaned.

“You are hurt!”

“No, my pottery! It’s all smashed, isn’t it?”

“I heard breakage,” he admitted. “But some of it might be all right.”

So much for the craft fair—and the next one. And the one after that. She could make more pottery, but it would take a while to save up for another vehicle.

A temperamental spring stubbornly clung to winter’s chill. The only warmth came from his steamy body heat. She shivered. It was cold—and dark. She could barely see his face. “Where are we going? We aren’t anywhere close to a village.”

“Before we went off the road, I spotted a cottage. We’re almost there. Just a few more steps, to be exact.”

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