Page 5 of Wild Runaway
Joseph may be kind and genuine, but there’s pain in his past too. I’m sure of it. For some strange reason I find that comforting, seeing my pain reflected in him.
Then he smiles and his eyes sparkle, and the moment passes.
He takes my bag and opens the pickup’s back door. “Come on. Let’s get your baby some milk.”
3
JOSEPH
My gaze slides to the rearview mirror and Trish sitting in the backseat.
Blonde hair falls over her face as she gazes down at her baby. The motion of the pickup seems to have lulled it to sleep, and a smile spreads over Trish’s lips as she watches her daughter.
There’s something warming in the way she’s looking at the baby that I can’t look away from. She’s the picture of motherhood, despite the dark shadows under her eyes and unwashed hair. Her expression is serene when she watches her daughter.
Trish must feel my gaze on her, because she glances up and our eyes meet. I look away quickly, but not before I see the haunted expression in her eyes. She may appear serene when she watches her daughter, but there’s a restless energy about her at other times. She’s running from something, but I don’t know what.
I take the drive easy, aware of my precious cargo in the back seat. Trish’s nose twitched when she got in next to the deer, but she had the good grace not to say anything about her bloody companion.
There’s not a lot a can I do about the deer carcass riding alongside her. I don’t know how long Kobe will be away, so I didn’t want to leave it. I’ll stick it in the deep freeze and give it to them when they get back.
We arrive at my cabin as the sky is turning grey with dusk. Trish bites her lip when she sees my ramshackle cabin in the woods. It’s not a nicely constructed cabin like Kobe’s. My cabin was put together with my own two hands. I felled the trees, cleared the small area of land, and built it myself while living in a temporary shelter nearby.
Solar panels cover the roof, catching the rays that come through the clearing, and water comes from a well I dug in the ground.
It’s one bedroom, all this single man has needed, until now.
By the time we get out of the car, the baby’s crying again. This time it’s angry cries, and even I can tell the poor little thing is hungry.
“What do you need?” I ask Trish as soon as we get inside. I dump her bag in the entryway and switch on the lights for the kitchen.
The cabin is an open plan with the kitchen on the right and the living room on the left. A small table sits against the wall and there are two steps that lead to the bedroom and the bathroom.
“Hot water to heat the bottle or a microwave if you have it.”
I’m not big on appliances, so I get the kettle boiling for the water. Trish crouches next to her bag and attempts to open it with one hand while cradling the baby. I haven’t seen her put the thing down, and I wonder if she ever does.
“Let me help.”
I crouch down to open the bag for her, but instead she holds the baby toward me. Its tiny mouth is wide open, and the noise emanating from it makes my ears bleed.
Trish gives me a reassuring smile. “Can you take her while I fix the bottle? It’ll be quicker.”
I’m touched that she trusts me enough to hold the infant, but I’m not sure she should. I’ve never held a baby before. I’m more used to wielding axes and hunting rifles, not tiny babies who wiggle and cry.
“You’ll be fine. Just hold her like you would a football.”
I take the infant uncertainly, and I must look terrified because Trish laughs. For a moment, the haunted expression leaves her eyes and they sparkle like sun reflecting on a mountain lake. Then she turns her attention to getting the things she needs from her bag.
I hold the baby in front of me, not sure what to do. She’s staring at her momma and wiggling like a hare caught in a trap. There’s an acrid stench coming from under the blanket that must mean she needs a diaper change.
I glance at Trish, but she’s busy in the kitchen mixing formula into a bottle. I’m on my own.
“Hey,” I say to the baby.
She looks startled by my voice and her head turns to look at me, the crying stopping for a moment.
Warmth spreads in my chest. I made the baby stop crying. We stare at each other, her curious blue eyes looking at me expectantly. I don’t know what to do. I’m not much of a talker at the best of times, and I know fuck all about talking to a baby.
