Wrong Number (22 page)

“Oh, she’s just babbling. But it sounds like she says all kinds of gibberish.”

“I bet you love to hear her pretty little voice every day.” Wyatt winked at Scarlett.

“I do.” Aubree kissed Scarlett’s cheek and sat on the blanket with her.

“You’re a good mom,” Wyatt said. “Now how about we try this again?”

Aubree’s throat tingled as she absorbed the compliment. “Thanks. That means a lot.” She brushed off her pants and stood up. “I guess since you’re being so nice that means I have to try casting, huh?”

“Hey, I’m always nice. But, yes, it’s your turn.” Wyatt grinned and held up the fishing pole.

It took several tries, but Aubree finally got a good line out. She tried to ignore the fluttering in her stomach when Wyatt took her hands and guided her arms to cast the line. They were enjoying the calm atmosphere of the lake, and Aubree kept telling herself to relax, but she watched Wyatt closely. Several times, she noticed him surveying the area and chewing on the inside of his cheek. Finally she asked, “What are you looking for?”

“That’s just it—I don’t know. I’m following your lead.”

Aubree furrowed her brow. “My lead?”

“Yeah. Every few minutes you’re looking over your shoulder like you’re expecting to see someone.” He glanced around the lake again. “I’m just wondering who you’re waiting for.” His eyes flickered and then focused on her face.

Aubree froze and tension arced through her body. Of course. She was always aware of her surroundings, always checking out every person in proximity, but she didn’t want Wyatt to know why. She gulped. “Nobody—I just haven’t ever been able to . . . .” She pulled her shoe through the filmy dirt. “It’s paranoia. You know, panic attacks and stuff since my husband died.”

Wyatt groaned and covered his face with a hand. “Man, I was way out of line. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Aubree shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”

He shook his head. “But I am worried about it. You’re hard to read, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

With a smile, Aubree waved her hand. “It’s okay. I’m having a great time today.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Let’s catch some more fish.”

Even with the questions flowing on a current of anxiety through her mind, she still felt attracted to Wyatt. It was foolish, and she knew it, but she couldn’t ignore how she felt and how much Scarlett adored him.

It was a first for her baby. Scarlett had never been around anyone else. But despite that, she couldn’t get enough of Wyatt. Aubree kept telling herself not to get too comfortable, not to trust, and not to let her guard down. But she wasn’t listening to herself very well.

After a successful day of fishing and a delicious fish fry, courtesy of Wyatt’s culinary skills, Aubree was exhausted. Scarlett slept in the
trailer, and Aubree sat next to Wyatt in some old lawn chairs near the crackling fire. He reached out and took her hand. “Thanks for coming with me today. I haven’t had that much fun in a long time.”

At first, Aubree thought about withdrawing her hand. But then Wyatt gave her one of his stellar grins and squeezed her fingers, and she shrugged mentally.

“You’re a good guy, aren’t you, Wyatt Erickson?”

“I hope you think so.”

“Thanks for taking me fishing. It was the best time I’ve had in—well, I guess it’s been too long.” Aubree stared at the fire and tried to think of a time during the last year when she’d been this relaxed. She squinted at the dancing flames, knowing there hadn’t been any.

“I guess you’re getting close to three weeks at this campsite. How long are you planning on staying?” Wyatt asked.

Aubree tensed and wished she had an answer for that question. “To be honest, I don’t really know.” She pursed her lips and listened to the wood popping in the fire. “I guess I’m getting low on supplies, but hopefully I’ll stay a bit longer.”

“I hope so, too.” Wyatt leaned toward her, and his eyes looked brown in the darkness falling around them. Aubree was suddenly aware of every heartbeat, and she looked down at their hands clasped together. Unbidden, the memory of the voice came to mind. She could see herself running out of the house in Omaha and driving for her life, with Scarlett sleeping in the car seat. Her palms began to sweat, and she released Wyatt’s hand.

“It’s getting late, and I need to check Scarlett. It’s been a while since she’s had a diaper change, and she’ll probably be waking up soon.” She knew she was babbling, but she couldn’t make herself stop. “Thanks again for the wonderful day.” She stood and turned to walk into the trailer, but Wyatt was out of his chair in an instant. He stepped in front of her.

“Wait. I did it again, didn’t I?” He rubbed his forehead with his hand and gazed down at her. “Don’t go. I don’t want you to go.”

Aubree swallowed hard. “I’m just—it’s getting late. I’ll still be here in the morning.” She tried to laugh, but it lodged in her throat when Wyatt reached forward and pulled her into his arms.

“Aubree, everytime I feel like I’m one step closer to getting to know you, you do the hundred yard dash and leave me in the dust.”

Her body was rigid in his arms, and a thousand thoughts buzzed through her mind. She tried to think what she should do. She thought about her FBI training and the witness protection program and about all the times she had distanced herself from her neighbors in Omaha.

Wyatt rubbed her back and leaned closer to her. “I know there must be a reason, but I can’t stop chasing you. Would it be that bad if I caught up to you just once?”

A lump of emotion rose in Aubree’s throat, and when she tried to speak, all that came out was a gurgling, “I don’t know.”

“I want to invite you to come down to Logan with me and meet my family. They could vouch for me.” He leaned back and smiled at her, but she could see all the emotions playing behind his eyes.

“I can’t. I can’t do that to you. I won’t hurt you, Wyatt.” She moved quickly—out of his arms and into the trailer. “I’m sorry,” she whispered and shut the door. She barely made it to the back of the trailer before a cry escaped from her throat. Scarlett was still asleep, so Aubree curled up in a ball and tried not to wake her as she sobbed into the blanket.

Tears of rage, disappointment, and fear poured out. Why did this have to happen to her? Why did Scarlett have to be born without a father and live on the run with her helpless mother?

She thought about Wyatt and shook her head angrily. There was no choice; she’d have to leave in the morning. She couldn’t risk hurting him—hurting someone else because of the mess she was in. A fresh surge of tears tore at her throat as she thought about Wyatt’s arms around her. She’d wanted so much to stay there and let him hold her. If only he could make everything right in her world again.

Aubree didn’t know how long she cried, but her throat was dry, and her eyes were sore, so she stood to get a glass of water. She drank the freezing water and splashed her face in the enamel sink. It was dark outside, but she never had any idea what time it was in the mountains. She turned and held her watch up to the glow of the firelight outside. The watch indicated it was past ten o’clock. When she looked out the window, she caught her breath.

A figure sat in a chair beside the fire with his head in his hands. Wyatt was still there. Before she could move, he lifted his head as if he felt her watching him. He stood and moved toward her until he was standing right by the window.

“Aubree,” he whispered. “Can I please come in and talk to you for a minute? Or will you come out here?”

“I’m sorry.” She pulled the faded curtains closed. There was silence for a few seconds, and then she heard the crunch of boots on the dirt path.

T
WENTY

W
HEN SCARLETT WOKE THE
next morning, Aubree fed her and then lay back down on the bed to close her eyes. She felt horrible. Her eyes were swollen from crying, and her mind had run a marathon of thoughts all night as she continually mulled over her options.

The guide to campsites around the area showed several different choices, but Aubree wondered if they would be as remote as Paris Springs. Part of her wanted to leave to keep from hurting Wyatt and to ensure Scarlett’s safety, and another part wanted to stay. After sorting through her notes of the case and her scribbled transcripts of the conversation, Aubree felt sure there was still something in her memory that held the key to her case. But with the confused state of mind she was in, she might never be able to extract the detail that hovered on the edges of all her dreams.

Even though she wanted to skip their morning walk, Scarlett was fussy, and Aubree knew she needed to talk to Wyatt. Although it was later than usual when they strolled around the campground, Wyatt wasn’t there. She listened for the familiar
clomp, clomp
of his boots and glanced over her shoulder several times as they made the loop of the campground, but he didn’t come.

The day felt hotter than usual, and Aubree’s heart was heavy. “I ruined a good thing, but I guess it’s for the best,” she told Scarlett. She concentrated her energy on cleaning up the camp trailer and making a list of supplies they would need to move to another campground. Biting her lip, she told herself not to cry and to remember that if she really cared about Wyatt, she wouldn’t put him in danger.

She found herself looking out the window when someone walked by and jumping at every sound, hoping it was Wyatt’s vehicle. But she didn’t see him. Her head ached as she worried over whether she’d made the right choice in pushing him away. She put her head in her hands and thought,
I’ll leave tomorrow before there’s a chance of running into him again.

At ten o’clock the next day, instead of going for a stroll, Aubree walked around her trailer removing the rocks that had held it steady for the past three weeks. When she came around the back end of the trailer, she stooped to retrieve the rock and groaned.

“A flat tire!” Her eyes stung with frustration, and she stomped back into the trailer. She dug around and found a jack, but it was different from a car jack, and she’d never changed a tire on her own before.

Taking the jack outside, she examined the tire and began loosening the lug nuts with the tire wrench. She twisted as hard as she could until she heard a pop and a crack and the wrench fell off. The twisted metal of a broken lug nut lay on the ground. Aubree sat in the dirt with her head in her hands. She would have to find someone to help her change the tire, but that would mean talking to someone she didn’t trust. Scarlett fussed inside the trailer, and Aubree went back inside to feed her.

“I guess we’ll have to put off leaving until I can figure out what to do about that tire,” Aubree told Scarlett as she stroked her hair.

When Scarlett fell asleep, Aubree busied herself with organizing the dishes in the cupboard.
Maybe I’ll be able to ask the camp chief for help when he comes to gather payments today
. Perhaps she should try to ask someone else in the campground for help, but part of her wanted to stay at Paris Springs. That part had her continually looking down the road for a sign of a familiar park ranger.

As the day turned to dusk and there was still no sign of Wyatt or the camp chief, Aubree decided to light one last fire. In the morning, she would take courage and ask someone to help her with the trailer. When the fire crackled brightly, Aubree returned to the trailer to feed Scarlett some dinner. Afterwards, they sat by the fire, and Scarlett snuggled into Aubree’s chest. Rocking her baby from side to side, Aubree sang to her softly until Scarlett’s dark lashes drooped into a deep sleep.

Aubree walked carefully with her sleeping bundle and climbed into the trailer. It felt a bit chilly, so she tucked a few extra blankets around
Scarlett, turned off the lights, and sat at the kitchen table in the dark, gazing out the window. The night was black, and the fire popped intermittently, sending red sparks into the air. Gravel crunched under a heavy footstep outside her trailer, and Aubree’s ears strained for sound. Someone walked around the side of her trailer and approached the fire. Squinting through the darkness, Aubree felt her heart in her throat when she saw the silhouette of a man by the fire.

It was Wyatt. He poked around the fire and glanced toward the trailer. He must’ve figured she was inside, but he couldn’t see her in the dark. A couple of times he took a few steps toward her door and then turned back. She watched him sit on a log near the fire and lean his elbows on his knees.

He was still there even though she’d turned him away. Aubree closed her eyes and took a deep breath, the inner turmoil she’d been fighting the past two days rose to the surface. She heard a sound and opened her eyes. Wyatt took a few steps toward the trailer and then hesitated. He looked up to the sky and rubbed a hand back and forth over his jaw.

Aubree stood and felt the strands of her short hair, trying to remember what color it was, where she was, who she was. She clenched her teeth together and stepped toward the door. She thrust it open and stared down at Wyatt.

“My name is Aubree Stewart. I have strawberry-blonde hair, blue eyes, and a year ago I lived in San Diego, California. I was unlucky enough to overhear details about the plot to kill the secretary of defense, and my husband was murdered because of it. I was in the witness protection program, but even that failed me. I can’t see you anymore because I don’t want you to get hurt too.”