Kelly Cloudman.
Kelly found herself sitting in the backseat of the van, her arm around Charlie and Paddy Paws on her lap. Gleeson drove slowly, and Betsy turned often from her spot in the passenger seat to fill Kelly in on race preparations. The gist of it she already knew; it was broken into three tortuous legs: mountain biking, a canoe and run, and the spelunking/ropes course. Each racer was timed, and the team with the fastest cumulative time at the end of the three events would be the winner.
“The weather’s been terrible so far. Of course, we’re not scheduled to start for another day but there are a lot of racers who came early to pass their competency tests and get some extra practice in. The campground is nice and quiet, and the trailers are okay.”
Kelly’s mind wandered as Betsy chattered on. The past few hours felt like a dream, or maybe, more appropriately, a nightmare. Of all the people in the world to rescue her and Charlie at that moment, it had to be Shane. She wanted to forget him, to erase their time together. Absently, she rubbed her palms on her lap.
She blinked away the memories. The important thing was the little boy sitting next to her, humming to himself. Charlie was unharmed, and his precious feline companion had survived, too. She breathed a thank-you prayer.
Looking out into the black sky, too cloud-washed to reveal any stars, the detail returned that had been lurking just out of reach in her mind. Matthews. Gleeson had referred to Shane as Matthews, instead of Mason. He could have misspoken, but Shane’s quick reaction, the barest flick of a glance in her direction, told Kelly it was not a mistake.
For some reason she could not fathom, Shane was using a fictitious last name. She wondered if it had something to do with the terrible news she’d heard the year before, the murder of Olivia Mason, Shane’s sister-in-law.
I should have called. Should have written.
There were plenty of good reasons not to at the time. She was desperately trying to finish her nursing degree and dealing with an emotionally traumatized toddler, not to mention wrestling with her own anguish at Shane’s abrupt departure from her life.
She still didn’t understand what had happened to them. Maybe she never would, but she should have expressed her condolences when Olivia died. Shane loved Olivia like a sister and adored his brother, Todd. She should not have let her own anger and hurt keep her from doing the decent thing.
Forgive me, Lord.
Her clothes were clammy, clinging to her like a second soggy skin as the van pressed through the darkness for miles. Ahead she could just make out some lights as they drove into a flat basin, ringed by distant cliffs. It was hard to discern much, but as they passed through the split-rail fence she noticed a half-dozen small cottages, some dark and others with windows illuminated.
“Those are the cabins,” Betsy said. “Mr. Chenko stays in one; he’s the race producer. Devin’s in another, and there are a few more race officials in the others. The rest of us lowly racers are in the trailers.” She smiled. “Pretty luxurious for an endurance race, I think. Electricity, beds and all the good stuff.”
“Have you done this kind of race before?”
“Nothing this big. I got interested after Devin and I met.” She squinted to read the numbers on the electrical boxes outside the trailers. “Here you are, number seven. I’ll go get the key in the office. Be right back.”
Kelly shivered as they got out. She kept a firm arm around Paddy and held Charlie’s hand tight.
“Mama Kelly?”
She smiled at him. “We’re here, Charlie. This is where we’re going to be staying.”
He gave it a look and then pressed his tired face against her leg, heedless of the damp denim. She found Gleeson looking at them. With a start she placed his face. “I patched up your knee at the clinic.”
“Yes, you did. Good as new.” He eyed Charlie. “Nice little kid. Glad he’s okay.”
“Me, too.”
“I have a son, but he’s grown now.”
“Does he live close by?”
“I wouldn’t know. He doesn’t speak to me, thanks to my ex.” His eyes narrowed. “You know, for a minute, I got the sense that you and Matthews knew each other.”
“Really?” Kelly’s heart pounded. Should she reveal the truth? But there was some reason why Shane hadn’t given this man his real name. She fussed with Charlie’s hair, buying time, wondering what to say.
She was spared having to answer when Betsy arrived with another woman, much shorter than Betsy, with a mane of wild curly black hair. The woman cradled a bundle in her arms.
Betsy opened the door to the trailer as she talked. “This is my cousin, Gwen. She’s petite, like you, so she has some dry clothes for you to wear and a T-shirt for Charlie to sleep in.”
Kelly realized that all her possessions—everything from her phone to their pajamas—were underwater. She groaned.
“It’s okay,” Betsy said, reading her look. “We’ll get the car towed out after the water drains away. You’d be surprised how fast that flood will be gone.”
The interior of the trailer was worn, but clean. There was a full-size bed at one end and a set of little bunk beds at the other. A tiny kitchen tiled in yellowed linoleum and a minuscule bathroom rounded out the space. Kelly placed Paddy Paws on the floor, and she immediately scurried off to hide in the gap under the lowest bunk.
Betsy plopped a paper bag on the table. The trailer light picked up the glint in her copper hair.
“Some food in case you need a snack tonight. There’s a small dining hall here that does breakfast.” She grinned. “See? I told you this place was luxurious. I’ve got to go fill Devin in. I only radioed enough detail to let him know you all were okay. See you in the morning.”
Gwen offered a shy smile and handed over the clothes. “Not much, but at least they’re dry.”
Kelly let out a heartfelt sigh. “Thank you. You have all been wonderful to us. We’re so grateful.” She picked Charlie up. “Let’s say thank-you to Miss…?”
“Falco.” Betsy had introduced Gwen as her cousin.
Charlie turned a sleepy face to Gwen and mumbled a thank-you.
Gwen took a step backward, her eyes glued on the boy, a stricken look on her face.
“Is everything okay?” Kelly asked, puzzled.
Her eyes remained riveted on Charlie. “He’s so sweet. I’d love to have a son like that.”
“He’s my nephew, actually.”
Gwen repeated the words as if they were some kind of chant. “Your nephew.”
The silence became uncomfortable.
“Thank you again. I think I’d better get him into dry clothes.”
Gwen seemed to snap out of her
