LITMIR.BIZ

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seem to hear her. His attention was on his rearview mirror, his foot heavy on the gas pedal. He was moving too fast for her to jump out of the car.

      They neared the center of town. Surely someone would notice that Ashley Adams was in a strange man’s car?

      But the stores were closing, the streets almost deserted. Only the coffee shop still shone its bright neon lights onto the street, welcoming people into its cozy interior.

      “Let me go!” she pleaded. “I’m supposed to be at home now.”

      He ignored her. Perhaps he knew that her parents were too busy with their divorce plans to notice she hadn’t been home all afternoon. Maybe that’s why he’d taken her—maybe people could take one look at her and know that she was going to be like the kids in school she’d always felt sorry for.

      As the car whizzed over the road Ashley tried to pray, struggled to think about God and those loving arms Mrs. Masters always talked about. But she couldn’t feel them. All she felt was alone and very scared.

      The man hunched over the wheel, his face set in a forbidding angry mask. Every so often he’d glance in his rearview mirror. Then his lips pinched together and his fingers squeezed the wheel so tightly they turned pasty-white. Anger emanated from him like smoke from a fire ready to ignite.

      She had to get out of this car!

      They approached the only traffic light in town, a yellow light which quickly turned red. It was now or maybe never. Ashley slid her fingers around the door handle and prepared herself. When he jerked to a stop she yanked the door open, hurled out of the vehicle and raced across the street to Mrs. Masters’s coffee shop.

      “Hey! Wait. I’ll take you home,” the man yelled after her.

      Fat chance!

      Ashley didn’t look back nor did she stop running until she reached the coffee-shop door. Using both hands she dragged it open, burst into the pungent warmth that surrounded her as she drew deep gasping breaths into her lungs. She glanced from face to face, searching for an ally.

      There were two customers at the counter. Mrs. Masters was laughing with them, but she stopped when Ashley locked the café door. By the time her sobs gurgled out, her Sunday school teacher was there, holding her.

      “What’s the matter, honey?”

      “A man.” Ashley clung to her capable hands as if to anchor herself. “A man tried to take me away. In his car.”

      “What man?” Mrs. Masters peered through the coffee-shop windows, shook her head. “I don’t see anyone.”

      “He was there. I was at the apple tree by the ch-church and he grabbed me. He was trying to k-kidnap me.” She was shaking and didn’t know how to stop.

      As if through a fog she heard Mrs. Masters speaking, felt herself being pushed down onto a chair. Someone pressed her hands around a cup. It warmed her icy fingers so she clung to it while people came and went.

      “She said a man took her.” She felt their stares and looked away, locking her gaze on the table, the chair, anything but the street in front. A while later her father came and took her home. To the home she wasn’t going to have anymore.

      That night the dreams started: nightmares so real Ashley could feel those bony fingers pressing into her skin, hear the gravel rattling beneath her feet as he pulled her across it, feel the biting odor of freshly cut spruce sting her nostrils and the hard metal pressure of the window handle against her back when she crouched in the car and waited for a chance to escape.

      And every time she’d wake up, shaking, crying, knowing that some time, someday, somewhere he’d come back.

      And that when he did, she wouldn’t be able to leave.

      Chapter One

      Ashley shoved open the door of her Vancouver condo with her crutch and hobbled inside, absorbing the stale odor of a place too long uninhabited. She let the door swing closed behind her, made sure it was locked, then concentrated on inhaling deep breaths.

      She was home. She was safe.

      The mail sat neatly stacked on a side table, thanks to her landlord. But Ashley ignored it, coaxing her body to move a little farther into the room.

      All she really wanted was to run. Which was sad when she’d spent so much time and effort dealing with her panic attacks, making this her safe haven. The accident with Kent had only proven what she already knew—there was no safe place. As if to emphasize that point, the fear that had assailed her in the elevator a few moments ago now ballooned and wouldn’t let go.

      The phone rang.

      “Ash?” Piper’s familiar voice soothed her fractured nerves. “I thought you’d be coming home today. How are you feeling?”

      “Battered and bruised, Pip. My ankle’s weak so I’m on crutches for a couple of days. But I’m okay.” Would she ever be okay again?

      “And Kent?”

      “Walked away without a scratch. It was my side of the sportscar that was hit.” She debated whether to explain, then decided there was no point in pretending. “He kept going faster, though I begged him to stop. He told me he could handle it, that he knew what he was doing with such a powerful car. He lied about that. He lied about everything.”

      “Oh, Ashley. I’m so sorry.”

      She couldn’t handle the rush of sympathy. Not now. Not today.

      “I’m not,” she said steeling herself against the pain she knew would follow the words. “It wasn’t me he really wanted. It was the money. It’s better it happened now, before we’re married, than finding out two years down the road.”

      “Yes, it is,” Piper agreed quietly. “When do you go back to work?”

      “I don’t. Ferris let me go when I had to cancel out of the exhibition.”

      “The rat! You couldn’t help the accident.”

      “I should never have believed Kent when he said he knew how to drive a race car. He admitted at the hospital that he’d never even been inside one before.”

      “Yes, but—”

      “Ferris was in a tight spot with the gallery expansion and he was depending on me to help. Being in the hospital because I was stupid and let myself get talked into something isn’t an excuse.”

      “I suppose Kent left the bill for that car for you to pay, too, didn’t he?” Piper waited a second then groaned. “Oh, Ash. The greedy—”

      “Believe me, it was a cheap escape. Anyway I don’t want to talk about him, Pip. I’m tired.” Ashley leaned against the wall, rubbed the throbbing spot at the side of her head. “I guess I need to rest.”

      “Then as soon as you feel up to it, you should come here. The autumn colors are always gorgeous around the Bay.” Piper’s voice changed, softened. “Cathcart House is made for visitors. You know that. Think of it—you could sleep in every morning, take long walks when you’re better, think about your next move. You could even help me plan my wedding. Or you can just relax if you want. Please say you’ll come.”

      Piper sounded so happy, so at peace with her world. Ashley swallowed a tinge of envy.

      “I should really be looking for a job, Pip.”

      “Don’t tell me you’ve emptied your grandfather’s trust account already? You were supposed to be recuperating in that hospital, not buying stuff online.”

      Piper and Rowena were the only two people Ashley would allow to tease about her recent inheritance. Piper’s taunt brought back happy memories of other times they’d shared in Serenity Bay.

      “You’re awfully quiet, Ash. You’d better fess up. Just how many pairs of shoes can one woman buy?” Piper demanded.

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