How close had they been? she wondered now.
“None of your business,” she told herself, but it didn’t stop her thoughts from turning to him. She hadn’t dated much since her marriage had crumbled, and after JC she’d sworn off men for a while. But, she sensed, Trace O’Halleran could change all that.
In a heartbeat.
Elle stepped on the gas. Her minivan was zooming along the dark road, but she wasn’t worried, even though night had fallen hours earlier. She’d driven “hazardous” mountain roads since she was sixteen; they were no big deal. So, despite the crystals of ice that glittered on the asphalt in the beams of her headlights, and the light from a crescent moon rising high in the inky sky, she was confident.
She pushed the speed limit and stared straight ahead through the windshield at the landscape, truly a winter wonderland. The road was a black ribbon cutting through acres of snow-covered fields, then through thickets of aspen and pine, where heavy-laden branches glistened with snow.
Glancing at the dashboard clock, she realized it was nearly ten thirty, which meant she was a good two hours later than she’d expected to be. She’d spent longer than she’d planned in Spokane, at the mall, then even longer after stopping in Coeur d’Alene for a quick dinner on her way home for old time’s sake. Big mistake. No doubt Tom would be starting to worry. She’d have to give him a call.
Before she could hit auto dial, a coughing attack erupted in her throat, and she gave up on the phone and quickly unwrapped a cherry-flavored lozenge, sucking on it with vigor. She was feeling a little feverish, too, but she wouldn’t admit it to Tom and the kids.
Things just had to get done, and if she didn’t do them, who would?
The holiday season was always super busy, and this year, with a new house and neighborhood, the pressure was on. She intended that her house on Aspen Circle would have the best Christmas display in the entire cul-de-sac.
Squinting against the sudden glare of headlights, she exhaled heavily. She’d met a few cars traveling the opposite direction, and though no one had sped fast enough to pass her, there were distant beams that occasionally reflected in the rearview mirror, from a vehicle far behind her. At least she wasn’t totally alone on this lonely stretch of highway.
She needed to get back to Tom and the kids. He’d agreed to watch them while she made her hasty trip to Spokane for some major Christmas shopping. While at the mall, she’d found the cutest new addition to her grapevine reindeer herd, a new Rudolph that would knock the fading nose off her original once he was set up near the little fir tree in the front yard and plugged in.
Yep. Rudolph II was phenomenal, and he’d been on sale. Twenty percent off with the coupon she’d clipped from the local paper. She couldn’t wait to display him in the frozen, snow-crusted grass, but she hoped the neighborhood would respect her display. Last year a couple of kids in the old neighborhood thought it would be funny to see Rudolph I mounting one of the female deer.
Elle hadn’t found any humor in the situation. Not at all. Talk about bad taste. Then again, some of those hoodlums had been cretins. So maybe, in some ways, the move to Grizzly Falls was a godsend.
She coughed again and wished the damned antibiotics would kick in. Yeah, it had been only one day, but she’d been fighting this crud forever. And no bug was going to keep her from this weekend’s price-busting sales. She’d missed Black Friday and Black Saturday, but damn, she’d scored big on Black Sunday, or whatever it was called.
Without slowing, she hooked up her iPhone to the console, then found her iTunes list and selected a special holiday mix she’d created herself. The music started to play, and within seconds she was singing along with Faith Hill as the wheels of her Dodge ate up the miles.
Her only problem, other than the nasty flu — pneumonia, really? — was that she wasn’t all that familiar with the roads around these parts. As she’d told the doctor, she’d been an Idaho girl all of her thirty-five years, well, except for that one summer when she’d driven to L.A. and thought she’d bleach her hair blond, live near the beach, Venice or Malibu or somewhere that sounded exotic, and learn how to roller-skate in a bikini.
Big mistake.
Too hot. Too crowded. Too many other beautiful blondes.
She’d returned to Boise four months later, her proverbial tail between her legs, and decided being a “hick from the sticks,” as she’d called herself, wasn’t such a bad thing.
Besides, she’d met Tom Alexander, hadn’t she? The love of her life. Or at least he had been when they had dated and were first married. Over a dozen years and two kids later, some of the passion had slipped out of their relationship. Lately, Tom had been distant.
Caught up in her worries about her husband, she sped past a road sign, just catching sight of it in the corner of her eye. “Crap!”
She realized she’d missed the turn and slowed at the next wide spot in the road and did a quick one-eighty. Some of the roads around here were so poorly marked and confusing! And it didn’t help that it was dark, not a streetlight for miles. At the corner, she turned toward Grizzly Falls and noticed that the vehicle that had been following her at a distance was much closer now. It, too, turned toward town and followed the two-lane road that wound along the banks of the river.
Elle glanced at the dash clock again. She wouldn’t get home until after eleven, and Tom would be worried sick. She probably should call.
In her rearview she noticed the car behind her was catching up to her, the harsh glare of its headlights reflecting right into her eyes. “Bastard,” she grumbled, then turned on her Bluetooth, but, of course, it was dead.
Perfect.
She’d forgotten to charge the damned thing. That was the problem. There were just too many devices to keep alive, along with juggling the demands of a family, keeping the house, volunteering at the school and, of course, shaking this damned flu, or whatever it was.
Slipping her phone out of the console, she pressed the two key, her shortcut to home. After the third ring, Tom answered.
“Hey,” he said, obviously recognizing her number. She heard the muted sound of the television in the background. “Where are you?”
“God, I wish I knew. On the right road, though. I think.” The sign had said Grizzly Falls this way, hadn’t it? The vehicle behind her was coming closer, right on her tail. “Shit, there’s a guy behind me with his lights on bright. About to burn my eyes out.”
“Slow down. Let him go by.”
No way. Let the jerk ride her ass. She was tired and anxious to get home, didn’t need the aggravation of the bastard’s brights. Into the phone, she said, “Look, I’m probably still about twenty, maybe twenty-five minutes away. I couldn’t resist the sales. So, how are the kids?”
“Unhappy that I made them go to bed at ten. They weren’t quite in the back-to-school mode. I had to become the”—he lowered his voice—“dreaded Sleep Enforcer.”
“Which they hate.”
“Copy that.”
She laughed as she took a sharp curve one-handed. The car behind her didn’t slow for a second. In fact, he seemed even closer, right on her damned bumper! Her tires slid a bit, then caught, and her laughter gave way to another coughing fit. Lord, she was sick of being sick! “Oh. . Tom. .,” she managed, distracted by the car on her tail and her inability to catch her breath. “I. . I have… to. .”