Her voice cracked as she spoke to her unborn child. “Oh, baby, what are we going to do?”
Tears stuck to her lashes, then broke free and streamed down her cheeks, leaving watery trails on her skin. She was pregnant and alone and so far away from her family, in emotional distance at least. She missed them all desperately, even more than when she’d been away at school.
“I’m scared.” The two syllables slipped through her lips, the terror and misery they resonated hanging in the dark room like a relentless fog.
She tried not to show that fear when Deacon was around, but he must be picking up on it by now. If he only knew how deep the fear truly ran. Already, her body had begun to show the signs of her condition. Her breasts were growing fuller, and they ached all the time now. Her belly was still flat, but how much longer would it remain that way? A month? Two? A tremor of distress ran through her. When a baby bump made an appearance, she’d have no way of keeping the truth from Deacon. She’d made a show of taking a tampon out of her toiletry case, under the pretense that she was on her cycle, but soon she wouldn’t be able to fool him.
Lana wiped away her tears, soaking the sleeve of her flannel shirt. It was one of the shirts her captors had purchased for her, serving as another reminder that she had zero control over her own life. She was trapped, a caged animal at the mercy of its handlers. She depended on them for food, shelter, warmth. Supervised walks. Locked door. She didn’t even know what day it was anymore. Definitely mid-October by now, but what was the date? Her uncle Donald’s birthday was on the fourteenth. Had she missed it? Had her family flown to Montana as they always did? Her father, probably not. He and Don had been estranged for years, and Hank Kelley made no effort to be cordial to his brother.
But what about Mom? Dylan? Had they celebrated the occasion on Cole’s ranch? Was Jim on an assignment? Had Jake returned from his?
So many questions, and not a single answer. All she knew was that she wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand this.
“No,” she said aloud, her hand curling protectively over her belly. “Your mommy will stand it for as long as she needs to. Nothing is going to happen to you, baby. I promise.”
Her blood hummed with a sudden rush of strength. She refused to give in to this hopelessness. She was a Kelley. She came from a long line of strong, confident women capable of surviving anything in their path. This was just a minor hiccup, a rocky obstacle in the road.
“I will overcome this,” she whispered with the lift of her chin.
As if a higher power had decided to applaud her fortitude, a gust of wind shook the window. Lana jumped, her pulse speeding up then slowing as she laughed in the darkness. “Just the wind,” she soothed, rubbing her tummy. “Mommy’s being jumpy.”
But then the window rattled again, and this time, the speedy kick of her pulse had nothing to do with fear. There was someone out there! Someone outside the window, signaling to get her attention.
Deacon? Had he finally decided to get her out of here?
Lana stumbled off the bed and bounded to the window, her blond hair falling into her eyes. She shoved the errant strands away and focused on the dirty windowpane.
Her heart nearly stopped when a shadowy face appeared in front of the glass.
Lana sucked in her breath. It wasn’t Deacon, that much she could tell. The man on the other side of the window had a goatee circling his mouth. The moment their gazes locked, the stranger raised his finger to his lips, urging her to remain silent, but Lana’s throat was so tight with emotion she wouldn’t have been able to make a sound anyway.
She was being rescued!
Chapter 8
Lana’s body was riddled with impatience as her savior took his sweet time liberating her from the cabin. As she watched, he removed a small silver tool from the belt around his trim waist. A glass cutter, she realized. While her heart beat up a storm, she resisted tapping her foot as he dragged the cutter against the edges of the window. He worked slowly, dark brows drawn together in meticulous concentration.
Who was he? Obviously some kind of soldier, judging from the camo outfit he had on, the black wool hat and the endless supply of tools clipped to his belt. Not to mention the rifle.
She suddenly wondered if he’d used the thing in order to get this close to the cabin. A spark of worry ignited in her stomach. Charlie and the others usually walked the perimeter and stood guard, but Deacon hadn’t been back to this room in several hours. What if he’d been assigned to watch the cabin, and had encountered this man outside?
She pushed away the troubling thought. With extreme skill, the man removed the glass, then disappeared from view as he set it down on the ground. He popped up a second later, and for the first time in a month, Lana heard a voice that didn’t belong to Deacon or her captors.
“Lana Kelley?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.