“Go round up the children,” she told her husband. “They’re in the back pasture and we’ll be eating soon.”
Like hell I am. As soon as he talked to his mother about his sister, he was out of here. He didn’t want to spend one extra second around the bloke.
His stepfather grumbled something in the old language that Asher didn’t understand, then stormed off. A small dog scrambled to get out of his way. His mother led Asher to the kitchen, where she proceeded to fuss over him, but she made no mention of his stepfather’s behavior.
***
Moonlight streamed through the blinds of the darkened room, casting wide strips of shadow on the walls. Olivia lay in bed, trying to fall asleep but not having much luck. She’d read several serialized stories on her cell phone, played countless games of Solitaire, and brushed Conry several times with what she hoped was a dog brush in the bottom drawer in the bathroom. With everything going on, her mind wouldn’t shut off long enough for her to fall asleep.
Asher had been gone for several weeks now, that crazy slave commitment long over. It had been just a joke, but she’d been having fun with it. Even though they’d only been together a short time, she really missed him.
Soon after he left, Mel had called and walked her through a few work-related tasks she needed to know how to do. Important things like transferring a call to the shop. Checking in a parts order (three or four a day). Pulling up the schedule and making a customer appointment. As she jotted everything down, she could hear random cooing and slurping noises on the other end of the line. Mel must’ve been nursing the baby. She’d delivered an eight-pound, healthy baby girl named Therese just twenty minutes after arriving at the hospital. Olivia couldn’t believe she was even thinking about work so soon.
She’d spent the next few days familiarizing herself with the scope of work they did at Reckless and introducing herself to the mechanics. She was going to have to get over her aversion to loud noises, because that’s all she heard when she was on the shop floor. Revving engines. Compressors. Shouting. Heavy metal music. Although she was very much out of her element here, she was grateful for the job and Rand’s generosity.
Even though she’d been busy and Rand seemed pleased with her efforts, every time she got back to Asher’s rooms, she was too keyed up to relax. She really should’ve moved out to the RV by now, but she wanted to be around his things. At least for a few more days. She lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling each night and wondering what Asher was doing. Those elusive sheep weren’t helping, either. They kept turning into deerhounds, which reminded her of him.
At least she had a set of wheels now. On a whim, when Rand had been showing her how to access the vehicle registry system on Mel’s computer, he’d pulled up her car’s VIN. She was shocked to see it listed as stolen, further evidence that the army was onto her. Rand didn’t ask why or what was going on, though she had a feeling he knew more than he let on.
He’d called James and Tall Paul into the office. “Here,” he said, handing them a set of license plates he’d retrieved from a locked file cabinet in the corner. “There’s a light blue Honda sedan parked on the second level of the Fifth Avenue garage in New Seattle.” He gave them the exact address. “I need to you go down there, change out the plates, and take it to Manny’s place.”
It wasn’t until the two men were climbing into an unmarked panel van that she realized she hadn’t given them the keys. “Hold on,” she called, digging into her purse.
Rand stopped her. “They don’t need them,” he said, a smile flickering on the edges of his mouth.
“But—”
“Trust me.” Then he explained how her car would be going to a garage in town, not here. This was in case a location device had been affixed to the vehicle. He told her it was a reputable chop shop that would give them a fair price. She laughed at the oxymoron.
When James and Tall Paul had returned later and dropped a wad of cash on her desk, she was surprised to find only a few hundred dollars less than what she’d paid for the car several months ago. Not a bad deal at all.
She’d spotted Rand in the break room. Caitlyn was sitting with her back to him while he braided her hair.
“How much do you want for that purple car in the back lot?” she asked.
“That old Charger?” he said, a hairband caught between his teeth.
“Ouch, Dad,” Caitlyn complained.
“Sorry, baby. Almost done.” His big hands grasped another piece of hair and worked it in with the rest. He wasn’t doing a regular braid, but a French braid. Olivia was impressed.