To Trust A Rancher. Debbi Rawlins

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and pointing to the bag she was holding.

      She raised her eyebrows at him. “Your mommy was talking. Don’t interrupt her.”

      Noah stuck out his bottom lip and pouted.

      Becca was shocked. She was pretty sure this was the first time Amy had ever corrected him. For anything. As for referring to Becca as Mommy, that had been the first recognizable word he’d uttered, directed at Becca. They’d agreed it was for the best, certainly less confusing for him. But she sometimes worried that it hurt Amy’s feelings.

      “How about some lemonade, you two?”

      After briefly hesitating, Amy said, “Sure. I have time for a glass.” Her hair looked freshly washed, and was pulled back in a neat ponytail. Even her face had cleared up a bit. A small thing but still progress.

      On her way to the kitchen, Becca smiled when she heard Noah ask about the bag again. She brought the pitcher of lemonade out of the fridge, her gaze catching on the veggies she’d been cutting up at the table. “Hey, Amy, can you stay for dinner?”

      “Nope. Sorry.”

      Becca would’ve been surprised if she’d agreed. Derek kept her on a short leash, which made her visits infrequent and brief. Next week was Thanksgiving. Even though Becca knew the calls home had dwindled, she would remind Amy while she seemed clearheaded.

      Noah let out a whoop.

      A toy, of course.

      Becca hoped it was age appropriate so she wouldn’t have to be the bad guy. Again.

      She carried the glasses and Noah’s plastic cup into the tiny living room. The torn bag was on the floor next to him. Amy was perched at the edge of the couch, holding two plain white envelopes as she watched Noah tear into the package.

      “Don’t worry,” she said, taking her lemonade. “It’s a Lego truck. Age three and up.”

      “Perfect.” Becca returned her smile. “Noah? I’m putting your cup right here.” She set it on the corner of the end table. “Look up, please.”

      Grudgingly, he did.

      “Do you see it?”

      “Yes, Mommy. Thank you.”

      “You’re welcome. Be careful you don’t spill it.” She sat next to Amy and watched him, noting his frustration at being unable to open the box quickly enough. She didn’t want it escalating into a tantrum.

      “You’re so good with him,” Amy said softly, her gaze as wistful as her sigh.

      “So are you. He loves it when you visit, or take him for an outing.”

      “Yeah, but you’re here day in and day out. Plus work a full-time job. How do you have the patience?”

      Becca smiled. “I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Seriously,” she added when Amy looked doubtful. “I still have faith you’ll get it together and leave you-know-who.” They were speaking softly, but Becca glanced over to make sure Noah wasn’t listening. “My new job pays a lot more, and I’m hoping to find a bigger place. You’ll be able to move in with us.”

      Amy sniffled, not from a cold or allergies—it was the drugs. “Wouldn’t that be something?”

      “It’s going to happen. You’ll see.”

      “Sometimes your optimism really annoys the sh—crap out of me.”

      “I know,” Becca said, laughing.

      Amy smiled.

      “Wow!” Noah freed the truck from its box and held it up high as he jumped up and down. “Neato.”

      “Wow is right,” Becca said. “Did you thank your—” The word got stuck in her mouth.

      “Yes,” Amy said, “he was very good and remembered to thank his aunt Amy.”

      They didn’t speak for a while but watched Noah play with his toy and fill the silence with vroom sounds as he rolled the truck around.

      “What time is it?” Amy asked suddenly.

      Becca patted her pocket. Her phone was in the kitchen. “About six thirty, I think.”

      Amy cursed under her breath. “I wish I could stay longer, but I don’t need Derek getting pissed off or paranoid.” She glanced at the envelopes in her hand, then looked at Noah. “I’m gonna do it,” she said in a quiet voice. “I’m gonna leave him.”

      Not sure she’d heard correctly over Noah’s excitement, Becca leaned closer to Amy. “Derek?” she whispered. “You’re—”

      Amy nodded. “I’ve stashed some money. It’s not much,” she said, pushing one of the envelopes at Becca, who refused it. “But it should help a little—”

      “Wait. When?”

      “Soon.”

      “Soon? Come on, Amy. You can’t just—”

      “Please, just listen. It’s important.” Amy’s voice shook. Her gaze darted to Noah, who was happily playing with his new toy and paying them no mind. “Derek’s going to meet someone at the border next week. I don’t know when for sure.”

      “You’ll come here, right? He doesn’t know where I live.”

      “I’m not coming anywhere near you or Noah. Not for a while.” Amy swallowed. “He’s dangerous, Bec.”

      “I know.”

      “No.” Amy’s eyes closed briefly. “You don’t.”

      Becca bit her lip. Every part of her wanted to hang on to her friend so tight she couldn’t go back to that monster. When Becca had first met Derek, he’d been all dimples and charm. She’d seen him twice after that and thought something was off about him. But not Amy. She’d fallen hard and fast.

      “Where will you go?”

      “I don’t know yet. But I’ll call you. Take the money, Bec.”

      “Okay, now you listen, because you aren’t thinking clearly. You’re going to need cash, a lot of it. First thing you should do is buy a phone he can’t track. They sell cheap ones, no contract. You don’t have to give your name or anything.” Becca’s mouth was so dry she had to stop and take a quick sip of lemonade. Damn, she wished she had more cash in the house. “What about a women’s shelter? You’d be safe. Even if he knew you were there, he couldn’t get to you—”

      “Becca?”

      “I still have some pamphlets.” She started to rise, but Amy caught her arm.

      “Becca, I’ll be fine.”

      “But you don’t even know where you’re going. You haven’t thought this through.”

      “No,

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