Page 4 of Fall Favor
The other guy is bigger. His thinning hair is greasy and slicked back. The shirt he’s wearing strains at the buttons over a belly that’s gone to fat, while his filthy jeans look one step away from trying to escape. He’s one of those barrel-chested men who always seem to leave the top few buttons undone so they can show off their chest hair. Disgusting.
Where did they come from? And why the hell are they in my campsite? The bubbly flutter of creating something new effervescing in my chest curdles into dread as it drops into the pit of my stomach. This is not good.
I quickly glance at the road and the empty campsites surrounding mine. In the five years since becoming a vagabond quilter, I’ve never worried about camping alone—of course, I’ve never been this isolated or camped this late in the year either. The park ranger’s hours are down to part-time; the campground will be closing for the season at the end of the month, and I’mstill struggling to find accommodations to rent until the end of the year.
“Seems having a woman who could do some rough country cooking would be an asset through the winter, especially if she was a pretty one, right, Tom?”
“This one is pretty enough, Clint, but she ain’t very welcoming now, is she?” He takes a step toward me.
Oh, shit.I take a step back and then two more, putting the firepit between them and me as I reach into the pocket of my hoodie and grasp the canister of pepper spray. It isn’t much, and I won’t be able to get both of them, but it just might allow me to get away if I have to run.
“Where’s that fancy truck?” Clint’s beady eyes rake over the site before landing back on me, sending chills down my spine.
“M-My man has it. H-He’ll be back shortly.” I don’t want them to realize I’m alone.
“Bullshit! We’ve had our eye on you, woman. Nobody’s been through here except for that old man last night.”
Oh, crap. I shudder as icy fingers of dread skate down my spine. They’ve been watching me? Only a few other people are staying until the end of the month, and I haven’t seen these two around. I wonder which site they’re staying at.Focus, Leah!Let them know someone will be here soon.
“H-He’s a mechanic in town, and he’s been really busy lately.”
I nearly collapse in relief as I hear the growl of a Cummins Turbo Diesel engine prowling along the narrow campground roads. “That sounds like my truck coming now.” I throw a thumb over my shoulder toward the road.
I don’t care if it’s Roger Rabbit driving up in my truck; I’ll fall at his feet and suck his toes if it means I won’t be alone with these two creeps anymore.
As soon as my truck pulls to a stop in the short driveway, I whirl around, rushing for the driver’s door. I damn near burst into tears when Manny gets out. Instead of crying, I throw myself at him, burying my face in his neck. I want to shout when his arms automatically wrap around me and pull me into the comfort of his body.
“Leah? Are you okay?” He’s not a big guy, maybe four or five inches taller than me, but he’s sturdy and I feel safe.
I nod, but he’s glancing over my shoulder at the men and must not see it.
“Leah?” He lifts my chin, staring directly into my eyes.
I nod again. “Yeah, I am now… but I need a favor?”
“Name it, Mama.” His spearminty breath brushes over my lips. As scared as I am, or maybe because of it, that sweet moniker alongside his utter commitment is as soothing as it is hot.
My suddenly dry throat makes it hard to swallow, and my damp fingers grasp the edges of his coat. I’ll admit I cling while getting lost for a moment in his dark, serious eyes.
“Play along,” I whisper.
Chapter 5
Manny
Play along?
Her face is blanched of color, and fine tremors shake Leah’s body from the moment she dove into my arms. I don’t know what the situation is, butplayingis the last thing I’m willing to do. Whoever these guys are, they’ve scared her, and that is unacceptable.
Arm wrapped securely around her waist, I turn her back toward the two men… no, not men—vermin. A real man doesn’t frighten or harm those weaker or more vulnerable than they are, and I have no doubt that’s what is happening here.
“Uh… that’s Clint and Tom. I guess they’re staying here in the campground, too. I’ve never met them before, but they said they’ve beenwatchingme,” she whispers.
She trembles as our boots crunch against grit and dried leaves. I stop us once we reach the fire. “Mama, move our supper to the picnic table before it boils over.”
“O-Okay.” She hurries to comply.
I move to the side so I’m standing between them and her. I watch them watch her as she quietly follows orders.
