Stowaway by Becky Barker

throat closed and she swallowed hard. The pain was too sharp and it hurt to breathe. She finished the pie shell and washed her hands then went to the bathroom and grabbed a handful of tissues. After wiping her eyes and blowing her nose, she answered his last question.
    “Mom got thrown from the car.” She couldn’t bring herself to describe her mother’s injuries. “She’d unfastened her belt, probably to help me, and her airbag deflated more quickly than mine.”
    “But you were trapped.”
    She responded with a nod followed by a sob. Suddenly weak with emotion, she put hands on the table for support. He stood and gathered her against his chest with his good arm. She didn’t resist. His understanding and compassion touched her more deeply than she’d let anything touch her in a long while. Sharing the painful secret brought the whole nightmare into the open like a raw wound.
    With her face pressed against his neck, she quietly wept for the first time since the accident. She missed her mom so desperately and guilt lay heavily on her heart. Could she have done more? Why hadn’t she driven and let her mom sleep? Who could hate or fear them enough to want them dead? Her mom had never deliberately hurt a soul. She’d been a kind, generous woman, so who would want to snuff out her life?
    Lamanto whispered to her soothingly, not offering empty platitudes but unconditional support. Keri wondered if he’d be so tender if he knew how emotionally and physically scarred she’d become since the wreck. For the first time in her life, she wanted to hurt someone rather than heal them. If she knew who’d killed her mom, she’d beat them with her bare hands and stomp them into the ground.
    Would the man holding her understand the desire for revenge? Would he think her depraved? Criminal minded? A nurse yet a hypocrite? She couldn’t let it matter, and she didn’t dare get too comfortable in his arms. As he gently rocked her, she forced herself to get a grip.
    Slowly withdrawing from his hold, she wiped her eyes and nose again. Her voice sounded a little shaky. “Sorry for drooling all over you.”
    He lifted her chin with his finger and stared into her eyes. “There’s no need to apologize. I’m thinking you’ve been holding all that hurt inside for a long time. Right?”
    She managed a sniff of concession. “Maybe. Thanks for the shoulder to cry on.”
    A teasing note entered his voice. “Isn’t there an ancient custom that says you saved one shoulder so the other one belongs to you?”
    She gave him a watery, grateful smile. “You sure mangled the interpretation, but I appreciate the thought.”
    “Besides,” he drawled in his playful, playboy tone, “I told you women always lose their heads in my arms.”
    Keri groaned, gave him an admonishing glance and nudged him back into the chair. But his teasing eased her tension. He’d lightened the mood enough for her to feel comfortable again. A rare talent in a man—or anyone, for that matter.
    “I’m never going to get these pies made if you don’t quit drilling me with questions.”
    “Just one more.”
    She gave him a long-suffering look. “What?”
    “Does Russ the warrior plan to come after pie?”
    “I didn’t invite him, but I guess that’s no guarantee.”
    “Now that the weather has cleared, we’ll have to expect more visitors and cover any traces of my being here.”
    “Dad will be sending someone to check on me. That’s a given,” she said on a sigh. “I won’t be able to keep everyone out of the cabin.”
    “I can hide in the bathtub like I did earlier, but it’s not the best of plans.”
    Keri agreed. Anyone who visited might want to use the bathroom before leaving again.
    “Can you get the oven for me?” she asked, putting the pies on a cookie sheet. He opened the oven door, she slid in the pan and he closed it again. They didn’t say anything else while she tidied the kitchen.
    When she’d finished, she looked him in the eyes, her