A Treasure Worth Keeping (10 page)

“Faith! Wait.” Evie was no track star but the rush of adrenaline rocketing through her blood pushed her into high gear. She caught up to Faith just before the girl stepped into the road.

“Hey!” Faith squawked in protest as Evie pulled her down behind a clump of foliage.

“It’s not a government vehicle.” Evie tucked Faith tightly against her as the van rolled past them, so close she could have reached out and touched the tire. A shiver ripped through her as she read the license plate, which bore the same number she’d seen on the one parked in her driveway.

Seth Lansky.

Was he looking for her?

Evie bit her lip, thinking quickly. If Seth really was following them, he probably thought they’d gone to the scenic overlook. That meant she and Faith had a chance to make it back to the parking area before Seth realized they weren’t where he thought they’d be.

Thank you, God, for watching out for us.

And bless Faith and her adventurous spirit.

If they’d stuck to the service road, Seth would have spotted them immediately. Not that he’d pursue them on foot…

Out of the corner of her eye, Evie saw the red glow of the brake lights and watched as the driver nosed the vehicle into a narrow clearing.

He was turning around.

“Come on.” Evie caught hold of Faith’s hand and pulled her back toward the trail, their progress hampered by the brush dragging at their clothing and a grid of exposed tree roots that stretched out like a minefield beneath their feet.

“Evie, you’re scaring me.” Faith vaulted over a fallen log and clutched Evie’s arm as she slipped on a slick bed of decaying leaves. “Who is that?”

“I’m not sure.” It was the truth. Evie had no idea if the man driving the van was Seth Lansky…but it couldn’t be a coincidence the three of them had wound up in the woods together at the same time.

The wind swallowed Faith’s shriek as a shard of lightning hurtled out of the sky, incinerating a nearby tree. The ground trembled under their feet. Evie trembled, too, but didn’t want Faith to know she was afraid.

“Not too much farther, Faith. You can do it.”

Through the sheet of water cascading over the brim of her hat, Evie saw the gate up ahead. As they veered around it, she tripped over something. The heavy padlock that secured the gate to the post lay on the ground. Clipped off by something a little sturdier than a pair of pliers.

“I see the restrooms,” Faith gasped.

Evie gave the girl’s arm a reassuring squeeze. Tourists would be in the parking lot, waiting for the rain to subside. And Seth Lansky wouldn’t dare approach them in front of witnesses.

Just as the terrain changed from dirt to concrete beneath their feet, Evie heard the faint, muffled purr of an engine. Fear seared her lungs and she scanned the parking lot.

Empty.

E
vie stopped, bending over to massage the stitch in her side. Should they stay on the trail and try to make it home or take refuge in the restroom? Maybe Seth had checked them already and wouldn’t bother a second time.

She had about thirty seconds to decide before Seth spotted them in the parking lot. Evie’s gaze darted to the trail and gauged the distance. A straight shot fifty yards in before it took a slight turn that would conceal them from sight.

They didn’t have time.

“Restroom,” Evie decided, lurching toward the tiny building. Faith remained close at her heels and they skidded inside just as the van rattled around the gate.

Evie collapsed against the wall and Faith slumped to the floor beside her. Outside, the van’s engine idled in harmony with their ragged breathing.

Keep going, Evie silently urged the driver. It’s pouring. You don’t want to go out in this storm.

The snick of a car door closing sounded more ominous than the crack of lightning that had demolished the top of a tree.

“You don’t happen to have a phone booth in your purse, do you?” Faith hopped to her feet.

The complete look of trust in the girl’s eyes stunned Evie. And goaded her into action.

“We don’t need a phone booth. We need a distraction.”

Think, Evie.

The restroom had been equipped with the bare essentials. Paper towel holder. A soap dispenser on the wall. And a locked cabinet under the sink.

Bingo.

“Faith, there’s a package of gum in my purse. Unwrap all the sticks and give me the foil.” Faith looked at her as if she’d lost her mind and Evie managed a quick smile. “Trust me. I’m a science teacher.”

While Faith tackled her assignment, Evie peeled off the cabinet hinges with the miniature screwdriver on her Swiss Army knife. Fear made her clumsy and she forced herself to take a deep, calming breath, praying the contents of the cabinet would yield what she needed.

“Here you go,” Faith whispered.

Evie closed her eyes in relief when she saw the old bottle of drain cleaner stashed in the back of the cabinet with the rest of the cleaning supplies.

“Now I need you to look in the garbage for a large plastic soda bottle. Find one with a lid.”

Faith wrinkled her nose but obeyed.

Evie licked her lips. Now came the hard part. She had to spot Seth before he spotted them.

“Faith, we’re going to get out of here but we can’t go home yet. There are some rustic cabins the Forest Service rents out on Porcupine Trail. Did you see them on the map?” At Faith’s tentative nod, Evie patted her knee. “Good girl. We’re going to head there and wait out the storm in one of them.”

Hopefully by now, Sam would be looking for them, too.

Evie crept to the door and peered out. No one sat in the driver’s seat of the van. Where was he? Evie edged out a little more and caught a glimpse of Seth’s bulky frame near the trail. He had his back to them.

“When I give you the signal, head down the trail to the left.”

“You’re leaving me?” Panic flared in Faith’s eyes.

“I’ll be right behind you. I promise.”

Faith’s head bobbed. “What’s the signal?”

“You’ll know it when you hear it.”

Evie filled the bottle with drain cleaner, shoved the foil into her pocket and sprinted toward the van. Seth had melted farther into the woods, and Evie knew she had only precious seconds before he realized they hadn’t gone that way. Now she had no doubt he’d check the restrooms again.

Just as she skidded around the side of the vehicle, Seth appeared, lumbering back up the trail and heading straight for the restroom where Faith waited.

She shoved the foil wrappers into the bottle, screwed the lid back on, eased the door to the van open and lobbed it inside like a grenade.

Thank you Brian and Tyler for your science fair experiment. Let’s hope it works on a smaller scale.

Evie made it to the woods just as an explosion burst over the sound of the rain.

Seth’s startled bellow told her it had.

The chill settling in Sam’s bones had nothing to do with the sudden drop in temperature as two weather systems collided in the heavens above him.

Evie and Faith were nowhere to be found. The front door of the shop had been locked up tight. So had the house. Which could only mean one thing—Evie and Faith had taken another unscheduled field trip.

Sam’s back teeth ground together. “I can’t look out for you when you disappear on me, Evie.”

The rain sheeted the car windows and lightning still backlit the clouds, accompanied by the low rumble of thunder. Hopefully, they’d taken shelter somewhere until the storm passed. Sam didn’t want to consider the alternative.

“This is crazy.” Sam twisted around, searching the backseat of the car for a discarded hat or jacket. Anything to prevent an immediate soaking when he got out of the car. The only thing his search yielded was the crumpled copy of
Captain’s Courageous
from Faith’s summer reading list, a candy wrapper and a lime-green baseball cap. Way too small and not his color.

Evie’s car was still parked by the garage, which meant they’d taken off on foot. If they’d stayed close to home, the storm would have pushed them back to the house by now.

Sam exhaled in frustration, wishing he knew the area better. He rifled through the glove compartment, remembering he’d shoved a bunch of tourist brochures into it on the drive up. A minuscule map showed a series of hiking trails less than three miles from Beach Glass.

Three miles. Judging from the map, he could drive in only as far as the rest area and then he’d have to hoof it from there. But he had to start somewhere. He wasn’t a person who got rattled easily, but he’d feel a lot better knowing Evie and Faith were safe and sound. So he could chew them out for worrying him.

“What
was
that?” Faith’s eyes were wide as Evie caught up to her on the trail.

“Just a little something I learned from the boys in my class.”

“It sounded like a bomb.”

“No, making homemade bombs is irresponsible. Reckless. I made a
distraction,
remember?”

“It was a good one.”

“Thank you.” The muscles in Evie’s stomach cramped again, and she decided two miles a day on the treadmill didn’t prepare a girl for running for cover over uneven terrain. “If my calculations are right, one of the cabins should be to the west of us about half a mile.”

Rustic campsite
didn’t quite describe what they found at the end of the path, but at least it was a roof over their heads. Sort of. A one-room cabin fashioned from weathered cedar, equipped with screens instead of windows. A single bedframe complete with a questionable foam mattress. A fireplace layered with a thick coat of ash and a plank floor covered with droppings.

“Myotis lucifugus,”
Evie murmured.

“What’s that?” Faith asked nervously.

“A bat.” Evie scanned the ceiling to see if the culprit was still in residence. “Don’t worry. All clear.”

“I’m kind of c-c-cold.” Faith wrapped her arms around her middle and perched gingerly on the edge of the bed.

Now that they’d managed to shake Seth loose, Evie had to concentrate on getting them dry. She rummaged in her bag and handed Faith a chocolate-dipped granola bar. “Here. Eat this. I’ll try to start a fire.” If she could find some dry kindling.

Faith read her mind. “We don’t have any wood.”

Evie poked at the ashes in the fireplace and turned up several chunks of charred embers. She wove her fingers together and closed her eyes.

“What are you doing? Did you get something in your eye?” Faith leaned forward.

Evie shook her head. “I was asking God for help.”

“Starting a fire?”

“Of course. Have you ever heard the story of the loaves and fishes?”

Faith shook her head. “No.”

“It’s in the Bible. A huge crowd gathered all day to listen to Jesus talk. His friends told him to send the people away because everyone was hungry. Jesus asked what they had and all they could come up with was a few loaves of bread and some fish. Jesus blessed it and when his friends passed it out, those little loaves and fishes fed over five thousand people.”

“Is that true?” Faith asked doubtfully.

“Yes, it is. And I’ll tell you something else that’s true. God cares about the small details of our lives as much as He cares about the big ones. I have the matches and few sticks and we’ll let God handle the fire.” She struck a match and held it against a splinter of charred wood, then blew carefully until a lick of flame chased up the length of it.

Another rumble of thunder rolled above them like a freight car, rattling the screens on the cabin.

“Look, Evie!” Faith stared in awe at the smoke curling into the air, born from the tiny flame that had begun to devour one of the chunks of wood.

“I’m going outside to make sure that smoke is going up the chimney like it’s supposed to.” Evie stood up and felt water squish in her shoes with every step.

Wisps of smoke emerged from the chimney, and Evie’s gaze carefully moved from tree to tree. Maybe the heavy rain was a blessing in disguise. Seth didn’t seem like the type of guy who carried an umbrella.

She eased back into the cabin and found Faith on her knees in front of the fireplace, hands splayed over the flames.

“Are we going to stay here for a while?”

Good question. And one Evie didn’t have an answer to yet. She’d tucked some snacks into her bag before they’d set out but didn’t normally carry a change of clothing! And both of them were soaked to the skin.

“Just until the rain subsides. Not that we can get any wetter.”

Faith’s eyes clouded. “Sam is going to be mad.”

“He might be worried, but he won’t be mad.”

“It looks the same,” Faith responded glumly.

“You might be right about that.” Evie hid a smile. In spite of his annoying tendency to boss people around, Evie didn’t doubt Sam’s love for his niece. Not many men would take time off from work to care for a troubled adolescent, family or not.

“No one tells me anything.” Faith stared into the fire, a frown puckering her brow. “I wanted to stay with Dad, but they didn’t give me a choice. They made me come here.”

They.
It explained the tension between Faith and Sam. She blamed him for taking her away from her father. Evie didn’t understand why Dan Cutter’s family hadn’t stayed to cheer him on during his recovery, either, but everyone had a different way of dealing with crises.

“Sometimes parents make decisions we don’t understand,” Evie said slowly. “But it’s because they love us and want to protect us.”

Faith’s shoulders rolled in time with her heavy sigh. “So your mom did that, too? Did it drive you crazy?”

Laura McBride’s face pieced together in Evie’s memory like a tattered photograph. Her mother had loved her family but had chosen to protect everyone else. And where had that left Evie and her sisters?

“All moms do.” Evie chose the safest response.

In a rapid change of moods, a mischievous sparkle lit Faith’s eyes. “We need more loaves and fishes.” She poked at the fire with a stick and it flared back to life. “Dry ones.”

Evie doubted she could find a dry stick in the forest at the moment, but the steady drum of the rain against the roof had quieted. “It doesn’t seem to be raining as hard anymore. We should be able to leave soon.”

“Do you think
he’s
still there? The man you didn’t want to see us?”

“I don’t know.” Fear pinched Evie again as she imagined the long trek back to the house. And the very real possibility that Seth was still out there somewhere, waiting for them. His deliberate search for her brought back a rush of doubts. Maybe retreat was the best option. She didn’t want to put Faith in danger.

Maybe you should go home.

“Maybe you should pray,” Faith said simply.

“Thanks for the reminder.” Evie choked back a laugh. Out of the mouths of babes! “Don’t get too close to the fire. I’m going outside to check the chimney again.” A flimsy excuse, but she couldn’t tell Faith she planned to sneak up the trail and make sure it was safe to leave.

The storm had exhausted its power, and Evie saw patches of blue sky through the trees as she picked her way cautiously down the trail. What she wouldn’t give for a hot shower and a cup of tea…

The crack of a branch turned her knees to water. Not more than fifty yards off the trail, a man moved purposefully in the direction of the cabin.

Seth?

Evie ducked behind the thick trunk of a white pine. Even above the sound of the rain, Evie was sure her ragged gasps of breath would give her away. Somehow, she had to get to the cabin before he did. Or, Evie thought with a flash of inspiration, draw him
away
from it.

Dropping to her knees, Evie scooted around the tree. “Okay, Big Guy. Let’s see what you’ve got….” The words died as she found herself face-to-knees with the man towering over her.

He hauled Evie to her feet so quickly she barely had time to process the long legs encased in blue jeans, black sweatshirt stretched over a broad, muscular chest. And a soggy, lime-green baseball cap.

Eyes as gray as the storm clouds captured hers.

For one heart-stopping moment, Sam pulled her against him, his fingers combing through her tangled hair with gentle roughness. And then he let her go.

“I’ve got trouble, that’s what I’ve got,” Sam said softly. “It’s about five foot five with red hair, blue eyes and a habit of taking unscheduled field trips.”