Page 110 of The Oligarch's Daughter

“No offense, but I just took Audrey to the car wash.”

“Audrey?”

“Sorry. My truck’s named Audrey. Hey, we all got our quirks, and that’s mine.Oneof mine. Where you headed?”

“Lincoln.”

“I’m on my way home to Woodstock, but I have to go through Lincoln, of course. Where you want me to drop you off?”

“Any motel that’ll take me.”

She gave a low, hearty laugh. “Might take a while to find one. You been in the woods a long time?”

“Few days.”

The white dog in the backseat poked its snout between the two front seats, and Paul patted its thick coat. It felt coarse and dry. The animal appeared to be smiling.

“That’s a long time if you’re lost. You a solo hiker? Or did you get separated from your party?”

“Solo. But my compass is broken. Are you a trail angel?”

She smiled as she pulled the truck back onto the road. “You can call me that, yeah. Finished the late shift at Memorial Hospital in Conway. I’m a nurse. Speaking of which, your foot okay? You seem to be limping.”

“Twisted my ankle.”

“Gotta ice it and compress it.”

“I’ll get some ice in town,” Paul said.

“Hold on. I’ve got some instant cold packs.” She pulled back off the road and onto the narrow shoulder, put her blinkers back on. Opening the console between her seat and his, she took out a rolled elastic bandage and a cold pack and handed both to him. “You know how to use these, right? Squeeze the inner pouch thingy.”

“Thank you. And thanks for picking me up.”

“Part of my job description. As a trail angel. I’m Angela, by the way.”

Angela, he thought.Like angel.

“Nice to meet you, Angela. I’m Giles.”

She switched off the truck’s blinkers and pulled back onto the road.

Paul removed his left boot, twisted the ice pack, and put it on his ankle, securing it with the elastic bandage. The blisters on his toes hurt, too, but he knew there was little he could do about them.

“I’d offer you a bed, Giles, but we don’t have a spare one. My wife and I just have the one bedroom. Seven hundred square feet. Room enough for us and Tucker.”

Tucker, he assumed, was the dog. “Your dog always smile?”

“Looks that way, doesn’t it? He’s a Samoyed. Genetically very close to wolves. They all have upturned mouths. Those upturned corners keep icicles from forming on their face in really cold weather.”

“Huh.” He settled back into his seat, luxuriating in the warmth, and the next thing he knew, Angela was poking at him. “Wake up, Giles. You okay with a Days Inn?”

Paul opened his eyes, saw that they were parked in front of the Days Inn on U.S. Route 3. “Absolutely,” he said. “Thank you again.”

“Oh, I’m not leaving until you get checked in. Make sure they’ll take you.”

He put his boot back on, tied it tight, wrapped his ankle with the elastic bandage. Then he got out, grabbed his bag.

Inside the motel, there was no one at the front desk. It was around three in the morning. He hit the call bell, and a minute later, a woman emerged from the back, blinking and yawning. “Can I help you?”

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