LITMIR.BIZ

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ready to take off as soon as he was arrested, but Etta Smithee, his momma, had different ideas. She made me stay in Tuscaloosa for the duration. Sat me down in the front row, right there behind her baby boy every day of that trial. She bought me all these frilly maternity clothes and there I sat, day after day, lookin’ and feelin’ like a fool. I didn’t love that man, and he deserved to be sent to prison for killin’ that boy.”

      “I...” Tucker paused. What could he say?

      She favored him with a sidelong but understanding look before continuing. “As soon as the jury read the verdict, I was ready to hit the road. Before I could go, Miz Smithee got all sweet, sayin’ it was up to her and the Smithee family to look after me and the baby. Things were fine until she decided to make an honest woman of me. Since I wouldn’t marry Red, I’d just have to marry Norbert, his brother.” She issued a long-suffering sigh. “Mama Smithee wants all her chicks in a row and all her loose ends tied up. And those loose ends would be me and Baby Bugtussle here.”

      Tucker tried to wrap his brain around this information, failed and gave up. “Why would she want you married to Norbert?”

      “That woman is covered in crazy sauce. She decreed that her first grandbaby should have the Smithee name, and I should just be dancin’ with joy to marry Norbert. Like any smart woman, I hitched up my skirts and hightailed it out of town first opportunity I got. I went back to singing and was doin’ pretty good despite the extra baggage.” She patted her belly, a big smile curling up the corners of her mouth—a mouth Tucker found most intriguing. “I got a job in Gatlinburg. I had no idea the Smithees roosted around there. There I am, strummin’ my guitar and singin’ a Miranda Lambert song and who walks in the door?”

      “Norbert.”

      “Got it in one, slick.” She winked at him, but her smile faded and a haunted look filled her eyes. Tucker tensed, not sure he wanted to hear the rest. “Next thing I know, he’s stuffin’ me in his old truck and drivin’ like a bat outta hell straight to his momma’s house. That woman locked me up in a bedroom until she could—” Zoe paused and formed air quotes with her fingers. “Make arrangements.”

      “Did those arrangements include that...dress?” He wanted to banish the ghosts lingering in her eyes so he tried her trick of making a joke.

      “Absolutely.” She squirmed a little and sighed. “Speakin’ of, got any idea how far it is to the next gas station so I can change clothes? And...” She pressed her side and stiffened a little. “This little sucker just loves stompin’ on my bladder. I could use a rest stop.” She blew out a breath. “Sooner than later.”

      Tucker couldn’t decide how much of Zoe’s tale was fact and how much was fiction. He had to admire what his mom would call gumption. She was all alone and he caught a hint of the distress she tried so hard to hide. She was sweet and funny and he wanted to protect her, as inexplicable as that seemed, considering they’d just met. He resisted reaching for her hand. Again.

      In the back of his mind, a thought formed—he should have his brother, Bridger, who worked for their cousin Cash Barron at Barron Security Services, look into the Smithees. Out loud, he said, “I think I can manage to fulfill that request.”

      * * *

      Zoe stashed the hated wedding dress in the dumpster behind the truck stop and finally felt like herself. Struggling out of the darn thing, even in the handicapped stall, had been an exercise in futility. Surrendering, she just ripped at it until all the buttons popped, pinging off the metal walls like BBs. The tussle left her dizzy, and she had to sit on the commode and gather herself for a moment before she could pull on yoga pants. Topping them with an oversize T-shirt and slipping her swollen feet into flip-flops was pure indulgence. The hideous dress had been gag inducing. The cheap boots followed the dress into the trash.

      Grabbing her duffel, Zoe schlepped back toward the store portion of the truck stop. She had just enough cash to grab something cold to drink and maybe a sandwich. She’d locate Tucker and then they could hit the road again. She reached the back door but hesitated to open it, opting instead to peer through the glass. She froze. Two Smithee cousins stood in the checkout line. Could Etta Smithee be far behind?

      She ducked away from the door. Pressing her back against the sun-warmed concrete wall, Zoe breathed through the panic. She couldn’t go inside to grab Tucker. What to do? What to do? Think, think, think. She needed her guitar. Which was locked in the trunk of Tucker’s car. She shifted just enough to peek through the glass door. The cousins were still there but there was no sign of Tucker.

      Edging along the wall to the corner of the building, Zoe checked the busy parking lot. Tucker had parked away from everyone else. That was a good thing. The T-Bird couldn’t be seen from inside the store. She located a rust-bucket pickup she’d seen parked at the church. The truck was empty. The minute those two saw her, the jig would be up, but if Tucker would come out, they could escape unnoticed. She was running out of time and options. Fast.

      Zoe glanced at the big semis idling in the truck lot. Maybe she could hitch a ride. But that meant leaving her guitar behind. And Tucker. Leaving him behind didn’t seem like much of a solution. Which was dumb because that man owed her nothing and would probably turn her over to Etta and Norbert just on principle. Too bad he was so pretty. And manly. And made her think of things no woman within a month or so of giving birth should be considering.

      But Zoe didn’t truly believe Tucker would hand her over to the Smithees. That meant she had only one option. Wait for Tucker. Sneaking over to the T-Bird without looking like she was skulking through the parking lot wasn’t all that easy. Worried other Smithees might be around, she ducked down on the driver’s side of the classic car. Too bad it was so low-slung. Sexy, yes, but dang hard to hide behind.

      “C’mon,” she murmured, sending vibes winging toward Tucker—not that she believed in any of that woo-woo stuff. But five minutes later, her headache-inducing concentration worked. Tucker, holding a plastic bag, stepped out of the store and looked toward where he’d parked the T-Bird. Zoe watched his brow knit as he glanced back inside. That was her cue. She popped her head up, put two fingers in her mouth and issued a piercing whistle. His head jerked back toward her and she waved him over, her arm flailing, as she climbed in.

      As he walked up to the passenger door—the side of the car nearest the store, she pleaded, “I need the keys.” She gripped the steering wheel with white-knuckled strength so Tucker wouldn’t see how badly her hands shook. When he didn’t respond fast enough, she added, “Get in. Please! We have to move fast.”

      He stared at her very pregnant belly crammed against the steering wheel and raised a brow. Okay, he might have a point as she tended to waddle when on foot, but she was driving, and they had a need for speed.

      “How can you—”

      “C’mon, rich boy. We gotta go and go now!”

      The doors behind him opened and shouts echoed over the growls of idling diesel engines. Tucker glanced around, saw two men bearing down on them. He tossed the keys to Zoe and she managed to get the right one inserted into the ignition as Tucker vaulted into the passenger seat. Zoe floored the accelerator before he got settled. Thank goodness Tucker had backed into the parking space.

      The men lumbered after them but gave up within a few yards, turned and trotted to their truck as Zoe watched through the rearview mirror.

      “Pull over,” Tucker ordered.

      “Not until we lose them.” She was adamant.

      “Who are those guys?”

      “They woulda been my in-laws, if I hadn’t run like hell.” She pressed back against the seat and fought the car around a tight curve, refusing to slow down. “Well, sort of. They’re Norbert’s cousins. Won’t be long until Etta and him will be on our trail.”

      Tucker reached over, placing a hand over hers on the steering wheel. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

      Her eyes filled with tears that she blamed on the wind, since she’d forgotten her sunglasses again.

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