Blind Trust by Terri Blackstock Page A

moving camper in the night with the woman he loved just out of his reach was as close to peace as he could hope to be. But it was enough for now.
    Sherry’s eyes fluttered open. She looked surprised to see him sitting on the floor beside her bed, watching her. “Hi,” she whispered.
    “Hi.”
    “I had a dream that we were married. That we were safe.” She looked up at him, her blue eyes washing through him before they closed once more.
    “Soon we will be,” he whispered.

    A nd she’s cli-imb-ing the stair-way to heav-en …” The soft, gravelly voice cut into Madeline’s sleep, pulling her out of her restless nightmare of running through the woods away from an unknown pursuer. But it wasn’t the voice that had awakened her, for she suspected there hadn’t been much silence since she’d drifted off. It was the human warmth surrounding and supporting her …
    She opened her eyes, and found herself curled up against Sam’s shoulder. Startled, she bolted up.
    “Well, if it isn’t Sleeping Cutie,” he rumbled.
    “I … I didn’t mean to …”
    Sam chuckled under his breath. “Do I look like I have any complaints?”
    “But … I don’t usually …”
    “Fall into the arms of strange men?”
    Her face tightened with sleepy indignation, and Sam laughed again. “How’s your knee?”
    Thankful that he had the decency to change the subject, she glanced down at it. “Hurts a little, but it’s better.” She glanced out the window at the blackness. “I hope Sherry is all right.”
    Sam laughed. “Well, it’s so quiet back there that they’re bound to have either made up or killed each other.”
    “They haven’t made up,” Madeline said on a yawn. “So they must be dead.”
    “Must be.” Sam bit his grin as he glanced over at her.
    A moment of quiet filled the truck’s cab, and soberly, Madeline studied his unshaven profile, the hard, angular line of his nose, the sleepy flush of his cheeks, the ruffled disarray of his brown hair. But his eyes were awake, bright, comforting. “So,” she said after a moment. “What are you going to sing for me now?”
    A slow grin crept across Sam’s face, and he gave her a wink. “Got any requests?” he asked.

    T he sound of gravel cracking under their wheels alerted Clint that they had reached their destination, and he peered out the camper window to the small cabin lit up in wait for them. Several cars lined the gravel drive, and a small crowd formed on the front porch at their approach. The chill hand of apprehension clutched him at the sight of so many more men than had been with him before.
    The camper stopped, and he heard Sam’s door slam. Several of the men approached him, exchanged words, and then the back door opened.
    “You awake back here?” Sam whispered.
    Clint rubbed his eyes and stepped outside so he wouldn’t wake Sherry. “Yeah. What’s going on? Who are all these people?”
    Sam bit his lip distastefully. “He wanted us to beef up security since we brought our two guests with us.”
    “Security was tight before. It didn’t need beefing up.”
    “Tell me about it,” Sam said dryly. “But he’s running this show.”
    “Terrific,” Clint said.
    “So how’d it go?” Sam’s voice cut quietly across the darkness.
    “Fine,” Clint said. “She still thinks I’m some kind of criminal, but she’s more afraid for me than of me now.”
    “She should be, pal,” Sam said. “it’s getting down to the wire now. Looks like we just have to hold out a few more days. Then it’ll all be over.”
    The words left a hollow feeling in Clint’s chest. Would it ever be over? Would he really ever be able to sleep at night without keeping one eye open for someone to spring at him out of the dark?
    “Give me a minute to wake her up,” Clint told his friend. “I’ll be right there.”
    “Okay,” Sam said. “But don’t be too long. They have a lot of questions for us when we get inside. And I have a few for them.”

    M adeline