Page 42 of Hide My Heart
“No, he can’t, but he’ll be waiting for us to come down. You’re right. It’s time we call the cops.”
My chest swells at the look of determination on Amber’s face, and how brave she has become, as well as how savvy she is. “You learned a lot in California.”
“I learned being pregnant and homeless,” she replies. “It kind of makes you grow up fast.”
“I’m proud of you for protecting your baby.” For the first time, I look at her like she’s a hero, not just a damsel in distress. “Your escape from Hunter was pretty awesome too.”
“I saw some smoked venison in the shed,” she says, eyes twinkling. “You’ll be even more impressed when I cook you a hearty stew.”
I call the police and tell them the whole story, leaving out where Amber and I are holed up. They connect me to Detective Dalton who questions me further.
“I ought to arrest you for withholding information.” Dalton’s tone is harsh. “We can’t get to the remote cabin until the ice storm thaws, but at the same time, if he’s holed up there, he can’t get out either, especially if he doesn’t have his truck. You better let us know—”
The connection cuts off.
I hit redial, but all I get is a busy signal. When I retry, I notice my phone also has no signal.
“What happened?” Amber asks.
“Lost the signal.” I try calling my mother, but it’s the same. “No signal.”
Outside, the wind howls along with the clatter of ice crystals hitting the roof. The sun is gone, hidden behind the slashes of snow and sleet blowing almost horizontal.
“I better bring a few more logs in and get the venison thawed,” I say, turning off my phone to conserve battery.
If the generator were to go off, we’d lose electricity, but we still have the wood-burning stove and the propane tanks.
Thank God, Uncle Joe is somewhat of a survivalist.
“I’m scared,” Amber says. “It’s so freaky out there.”
A branch loaded with ice breaks and crashes against the window.
Amber jumps back. “That was close.”
A spider web of cracks crawl across the window glass where it hit. This isn’t good. It might be dangerous to go out if ice is crashing to the ground.
“At least no one’s sneaking up on us,” I say. “Let’s try and have a good time. I’m getting hungry, and you promised me a hot cooked meal.”
She forces a smile on her tired face. “Yes, I did promise you a good time, didn’t I?”
Whoa. What is that supposed to mean? But then, she grew up in the church, so she has no clue about innuendos.
I’ll take a hot cooked meal and a good time, even if it means singing hymns in front of the fireplace.
Too bad there’s no piano for Amber to play.
TWENTY-THREE
Amber
The cabin is warm andhomey, with the scent of the stew bubbling on the stove. Nate holds Beck on the rocking chair in front of the fireplace where he has a crackling fire going.
Now that I’m relaxed, exhaustion swamps me, and all I want to do is sleep. But Nate has been taking care of me all day, and he needs to rest.
The wind howls outside and every so often, the tree branches crack and loads of ice crash to the ground.
Fortunately, Nate’s uncle has a highly pitched steel roof, so the loads of ice slide right off. Of course, it makes going outside dangerous with all of those icicles poised like daggers above us.
