Seeking Shelter

Jace cursed and rubbed his throbbing forehead. He needed some sleep. Maybe in the morning his mind would be clearer, but he’d have to wait until everyone was asleep before he could settle in.

An hour later, Hank was still puttering around in the kitchen, getting everything ready for breakfast tomorrow morning. The old guy was rough, but he seemed committed to making this house a successful business.

“You gonna be out here much longer?” His voice came from the darkness, in the general direction of the front door.

“I was thinking about it.” Jace wasn’t going to tell him he didn’t plan to go back inside tonight.

“I need to lock up.”

Times like these, Jace really missed Mac. He’d have understood. There would have been no need to explain. Jace hadn’t slept indoors more than a handful of times in the past ten years.

The small apartment they’d shared hadn’t been much to brag about, but the balcony had been uncovered and Jace had bunked out there most nights. If it rained, he’d slept inside with the sliding door wide open.

This place didn’t have any sliding doors.

“Look.” Hank stepped into the light. “I gotta lock up. We’re a small town, and on the whole a safe place, but I got customers to keep happy.”

Jace stood and paced. The familiar edginess crept up on him. He could feel it, lurking in the shadows. “I ain’t much for sleeping inside,” he finally admitted. It was an understatement if he ever heard one.

Hank’s eyebrows lifted. “You plan on sleeping out here?”

“Yeah. I thought about it.”

The man crossed his beefy arms over his chest. “Tell me why. Give me a straight answer, and I’ll consider making an exception and give you a key. If I don’t believe you, I’ll go inside and you can fend for yourself.”

Jace almost let him do just that. Almost. He paced some more, his mind racing. “My dad died in a mine cave-in when I was a kid. Too many nightmares.”

The long glare his host kept trained on him was working on something, but Jace couldn’t read the man that well. Finally, Hank stuck his hand out and Jace saw the porch light glint off a single key.

“I’ll lock up and you can come and go as you please until you check out.”

“Thanks.” Jace smiled and pocketed the key.

“There’s a hammock out in the backyard. You’re welcome to use it.”

Jace nodded his thanks. “Hey,” he said. “Do you have a phone book around here?”

“Yeah. I’ll get it for you in the morning. It’s in the kitchen.”

“That’d be great.”

“I know most everyone and everything around here. Maybe I can help.”

Jace wanted people to think he was staying only because of his bike. He didn’t want to ask too many questions yet. But he didn’t want to come across as suspicious later. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he was acting just like Mac had, paranoid for no apparent reason. “Yeah, I’m looking for someone. Her name’s Madeline Grey. Do you know her?”

Hank’s face transformed from friendly innkeeper to the hard-traveling man Jace had seen in his eyes earlier. “Yeah, I knew Maddie.” He stepped closer. Menacingly close. “She’s been dead for over ten years.”

“I’m sorry.” And Jace was. That explained why Mac hadn’t been able to find her. “She had a daughter. Amy.” Jace glanced toward the now closed general store. “Is that her over in the grocery?”

Hank continued to eye him with a heavy frown, as if he’d be able to read his thoughts if he looked long enough. “I don’t know why you’re here, or why you’re asking about Maddie and Amy, but if you’re here to cause her or that little girl any trouble, you’ll have me to answer to.” Hank let the threat hang in the night air. It lingered long after he’d gone back inside and locked the door.

* * *

THE ARIZONA DESERT HAD always fascinated Amy, even though she’d lived here most of her life. She got up early each morning before the town was awake, before Katie got up, before she had to open the store. She loved this time of day. It was her time.

A cup of coffee on the back porch usually helped her gather her thoughts. She could make her plans for the day and just be Amy. Not Mom. Not the storekeeper. Not the girl down the street. Not the broken young woman who’d come home to lick her wounds. None of that. Just Amy.

Today, the relaxation was harder to find. Too much had happened lately and her mind swirled with it.

She hadn’t slept well last night, and when she had, she kept seeing the stranger, Jace. Which she blamed on Caryn.

“You’re an early riser.” The deep voice startled her and she nearly dropped her favorite coffee mug. As it was, she sloshed several drops on the front of her shirt. She’d have to change before she started work. Frowning, she looked over to see the man who’d haunted her dreams standing only a few feet away.

Today, he wore blue jeans and a black T-shirt that hugged his chest and shoulders. His long, dark hair hung loose and damp around his shoulders.

It took her brain a minute to engage. What was he doing here?

She stilled, her gaze drinking him in. Curiosity made her decide to see what he wanted. “I am. So, apparently, are you.”

She carefully sipped her coffee and watched him, knowing the back door was open and nearby. Her cell phone was also in her pocket, which wasn’t much help. But still reassuring.

“Yeah. Never did learn to sleep when it was light. And since I sleep outside so much, that’s sort of an issue.” He spoke slowly, easily, as if he had all the time in the world.

“Didn’t Hank get you set up last night?”

“Yeah. Nice place, too. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” She wondered about his comment about sleeping outside, but decided that was none of her business.

The world around them was far from silent, with the late-night animals still stirring in the cool morning air, and insects singing in the bushes near the house. She heard the hum of a honeybee near the flowerbed.

“You’re Amy Grey, aren’t you?” Jace asked as he moved closer, stopping only when he reached the rail. He leaned against the heat-battered wood and looked at her with what seemed like too much curiosity.

Maybe she should go back inside.

“How do you know my last name?”

“Don’t look so surprised. I can’t read minds.” He did seem to read her confused expression, though. “I asked Hank,” he said with a laugh.

She liked the sound of his laughter and his smile. It seemed to inhabit his entire face and gave him a warm, welcoming persona. Most people’s smiles were simply muscle movements, not real indications of how they felt.

“Uh...are you planning on staying in town long?” She didn’t really want to know, she told herself.

“That all depends.”

“On?”

“How long it takes Rick to get the parts for my bike. And you.”