“You okay to drive?”
“I’m fine. Well…considering.”
He climbed out and she made a move to slide past him, but he caught her by the shoulders. “You don’t have to put your life in danger. We could go to the police.”
“You’d never suggest that if you were going with me.”
“I’m not going with you.”
“The police will take too much time and you know it. They’d have to investigate, get search warrants.”
That didn’t change his reluctance. But she had a point. With a sigh, he picked up her left hand and studied the wedding ring he’d given her.
“What is it?” she asked when he didn’t speak.
Raising her chin with one finger, he brushed his lips across the uninjured side of her mouth. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Her smile was lopsided but endearing. “No problem, since that leaves my options wide-open.”
“Not as wide as you think.”
“There’s something you wouldn’t do?” she teased as she slid behind the wheel.
“I wouldn’t sleep with Ethan.”
She started the engine. “Yeah, well, as you know, beefcake is tough for me to resist.”
“That’s what you like? Beefcake?”
“Yep.” She fastened her seat belt. “I only want you for your body.”
He’d been telling himself he preferred a shallow encounter. But making love to Rachel hadn’t lessened the frustration he was feeling; it’d made it worse. “You didn’t act as if you enjoyed it too much this morning.”
“This morning wasn’t about me. It was about giving you what you wanted.”
“A willing partner?”
“Cheap and easy, no strings attached.”
Nate wasn’t so sure about that anymore. “Thoughtful of you.”
“I owed you one.” Closing the door, she drove off.
Nate stood where he was, but it wasn’t easy to let her go. It felt like he was tossing her, bleeding, into shark-infested waters—and walking away.
23
Abby’s hands began to move the minute she saw Rachel standing in the entrance of the café.
Thelma noticed her granddaughter before spotting Rachel. “What is it?” she asked. Then she turned and saw Rachel and rushed over. “Rachel! What happened? Are you okay?”
Rachel summoned tears. “It—it’s Nate.”
Doubt and confusion appeared on Thelma’s face. “What do you mean it’s Nate? He—he didn’t…hit you, did he?”
Thelma obviously didn’t want to believe it. Rachel could tell she liked Nate and that made her feel even worse about ruining his reputation, especially because hitting a woman was so far from anything he’d really do. She hadn’t been able to goad him into it, even with the knowledge that Martha’s life could depend on the credibility of her lie. “We had an argument.”
“Do you want me to call the police?”
“No.” Rachel grabbed her arm before she could move away. “No, I—I provoked him.” That made her feel a tiny bit better. “But he’s probably on his way here right now. I need to leave, hide. And I can’t take his truck. Could you possibly give me a lift to Paradise?”
Thelma stared at her. “You don’t want to go to the Covenanters, honey.”
“They’re not as bad as everyone’s making them out to be. You’ve said so yourself. And…and they’ve got guards with guns. They’re the only ones who can keep me safe.”
Abby was following the conversation with eyes as big and round as silver dollars. She shook her head at this and began signing. When her grandmother didn’t notice, she nudged Thelma to get her attention.
Rachel wished she knew what Abby was saying. “What is it?”
Thelma signed to Abby but didn’t answer Rachel.
“What is it?” Rachel asked again.
“She can’t believe Nate would do this. I told her that nice people sometimes do bad things.”
Guilt created more anxiety. But Rachel had to get to Paradise, and she had to do it in a way that meant they’d accept her and welcome her in. This was her best shot. “I need a ride,” she said frankly.
Thelma wrung her hands. “What do you think the Covenanters can do for you that the police can’t?”
“A lot! They can hide me and provide a safe place until…until I decide whether or not I want to end my marriage.”
“Has he done this before?” Thelma asked, her voice sad.
When Rachel went undercover she had to lie about all kinds of things, but it wasn’t easy to make someone she cared about look bad. “We need some time apart,” she said. “Will you take me? Please? I know what I’m doing. I promise.”
“I—” Thelma glanced over her shoulder. “Rob’s here and the dinner rush is over. I guess I could take you. If you’re sure this is what you want to do.”
“I’m sure.”
She left to get her keys, but Abby stayed.
“Don’t hate him,” Rachel said to her. “Okay?”
Thelma returned a moment later. “Let’s go.”
Rachel pivoted, but Abby stopped her. She patted her chest, pointed to her grandmother and then to Rachel.
“She wants me to translate for her.”
The pressure Rachel felt to get going made her reluctant to take the time. “What is it?”
Thelma watched Abby speak, then frowned. “No, Abby. That doesn’t make sense.”
“What doesn’t make sense?” Rachel asked.
Abby’s motions let Rachel know she was encouraging her grandmother to explain.
With a sigh, Thelma relented. “She wants me to warn you about the pit.”
“The pit?” Rachel echoed.
“She insists that someone was talking about some sort of pit when we attended one of the meetings.”
Rachel wasn’t willing to discount this as easily as her grandmother was. “What about the pit?”
Abby signed again, but her grandmother acted as if she didn’t need to watch her hands, as if she already knew the answer. Probably because she’d heard it before. “‘Imagine what we could do to her in the pit.’”
The muscles in Rachel’s stomach tensed. “Who said this?”
“A man named Grady. He’s one of the Spiritual Guides.”
Rachel squatted in front of Abby, enunciating as clearly as she could. “What else did he say?”