Page 32 of Survive the Night
“Is it okay if he goes with us?” she asked, petting the dog’s head.
“Sure.” Otto held the door for both of them to pass through. “That’s Mort. He was my partner, but he’s retired now.”
Sarah watched the dog trot down the steps. “You haven’t replaced him yet?”
“Not yet.” He put his hand at the small of her back, steady but barely touching, as they walked toward the paddock holding the horse and goat. Sarah could feel the heat of him through her shirt and hoodie. “It’s expensive and time-consuming to buy and train a new dog. We’ve been…busy lately.”
Shooting him a sideways glance, Sarah remembered the conversation they’d all had in the kitchen earlier that morning. “All the explosions?”
He scowled, as if remembering. “Yes, and the shootings. Hugh kept getting hurt. Hopefully, that’s over, and we can have our usual quiet winter.”
“Things do seem really quiet in town,” she said, trying to distract herself from the fact that even Otto’s cranky face fascinated her. Clouds slipped across the sun, blocking it for a few moments, just as the breeze kicked up. Sarah shivered, and Otto’s hand moved from her back to her hip, tucking her closer against him as if sheltering her against the wind. She decided she liked that even more than the hand on her back.
“Most people leave Monroe in the winter,” he said, keeping her close as they walked. Sarah basked in his heat and nearness, as well as his unusual chattiness. It was nice not to have the stilted silences. “About three-quarters of the people, in fact.”
“Why?” she asked. To her, Monroe seemed like a paradise. She couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to leave.
“It gets cold, and it snows—a lot.” He opened the paddock gate and held it for her as she moved through. Mort stayed out, sniffing around a tree ten feet away. “There’s no ski resort here, and the highway gets closed down often, especially over the passes.”
“And that’s the only way through town.” It finally clicked how isolated Monroe was. The only way in or out was east or west on the highway, and there was a mountain pass on either side. If they were closed down frequently, like Otto was explaining, then the people in Monroe were stuck—possibly for weeks on end. Sarah wasn’t sure if she found the idea reassuring or terrifying.
The goat trotted up to greet them, and Otto pulled something out of his pocket—a treat, judging by the goat’s enthusiastic chewing.
“This is Hortense,” Otto said, scratching the goat on her neck as she leaned into the caress. “The horse is Bean. He’s still not sure about people, but he’s more timid than aggressive.”
Sarah studied the horse, who was staring back at them, his ears flicking back and forth with uncertain interest. He was tall and lean, with long legs and a veiny, sensitive face. His ribs showed, but not overly much, and he gave the impression of nerves and speed with a mane and tail tacked on. “Where’d he come from?”
“The racetrack outside Denver, originally.” Otto gave Hortense another treat. “Bean wasn’t very fast, so he was sold a couple of years ago. He went through a few more homes before he ended up with a rancher southwest of here, in a stall right next to a couple of wild boars the rancher was raising. Poor Bean was scared out of his mind. He tried to climb right out of there a couple of times, and the rancher had no idea what to do with a spooky, timid Thoroughbred. I traded a few bales of alfalfa hay for him.”
As Otto talked, Bean had been slowly making his way closer until he was just a few feet away. Sarah kept her attention on Otto, not wanting to startle the horse away. “He’s right behind you,” she said quietly.
“I know.” Otto stood, calm and relaxed, as Bean stretched out, blowing out a puff of air against the back of Otto’s neck. Sarah held her breath, waiting to see what the horse would do. After another exhale, Bean snorted and shied, dodging away from them. Once he was a safe distance away, he turned to watch them again.
Sarah smiled. “He almost seems like he’s playing.”
With a shrug, Otto gave Hortense a final pat before moving toward the gate. “Part of him is scared, and part of him is curious. Every time I don’t give him anything to be scared about, that part gets smaller. He’ll come around.”
As she walked through the gate, Sarah gave Bean one last glance. “I like horses. The person who took care of my father’s horses let me help with them.”
“Did you have any pets?”
“No.” She paused before admitting, “When I was small, I had a kitten, Laila, but only for a few weeks.”
“What happened?”
“My father was angry with me, so he took her away. After that, I didn’t want any more pets.” She studied the rocky ground in front of her. “It hurt too much to lose her.” Sarah didn’t want to meet Otto’s gaze. She was too afraid there’d be pity in his eyes, and she didn’t want to be pitiful, especially to Otto. “Now that I’m free, though, I’m going to have a lot of pets—well, once I move out of Jules’s place.” The reality of her situation hit her once again. “If I ever go back to Jules’s. If I ever really can stop running.”
“You will.” His huge, warm hand was back, this time resting over her shoulder blade. “Your brother will be locked up for a long time, and Jovanovic won’t return, not with everyone looking for him.” The firm, commanding way he spoke—as if every word was the complete and total truth—almost made Sarah believe that it could be so simple.
She knew her brother, though. He didn’t play by the rules, and he wouldn’t consider the skeleton staff of a small-town police force to be any deterrent to getting what he wanted. Sarah was the key to infiltrating the Jovanovics’ business, and Aaron would get out and snatch her back—or kill a lot of people trying.
She glanced at Otto. He was so good, and all of his animals depended on him. Was she being selfish to stay? As much as she hated to leave her new town, it might be the smartest thing to do. The only thing was that Sarah didn’t know if she could do it. Leaving Otto, even if she knew it was the right thing to do, would hurt more than anything Aaron had ever done to her.
Chapter 10
Sarah stared at the few clothes hanging in Otto’s guest-room closet. That was the extent of her wardrobe, but it looked so skimpy, almost pitifully so. It had taken her five minutes to unpack, and she’d moved slowly, trying to give Otto some time alone after he’d given up most of his day for her. She thought back to the enormous room that had housed her clothes at her brother’s house, and her face scrunched at the memory. She closed the closet door, suddenly very happy. This was much better than her life before.
