Page 25 of Two Hearts' Accidental Heroes

In other words, Rick didn’t know what the heck was going on, but he’d been told more than once that he wasn’t supposed to ask. Jake said that the men were probably still on the lookout for Rick’s mom and Aaron Mitchum, but that maybe they’d come to the realization that neither one of them had whatever the men had been looking for nine years earlier. It might not have had anything to do at all with the missing funds, Jake had mentioned.

Rick decided to head to the store and pick up some groceries. Jake had someone stock a few things in the fridge and freezer at the house before Rick had arrived, but he needed a little more variety so he wouldn’t have to eat out. What Steve had said about someone recognizing him worried him, so he’d grow his beard, like Steve had suggested, and just lay low for now. In fact, he’d do a little research on his own about Wes Montgomery with the laptop that Jake had provided.

Chapter Eleven

It was now late September, and Shanna had been painting non-stop. Every few weeks, she and Wes would head to the gallery together to drop everything off. The gallery had expanded into the empty store space beside them, since the clothing store had moved to a larger location one year earlier, so the gallery owner would take any artwork she had to offer, sight unseen.

When Wes arrived one day to pick her up, he had a worried look on his face, so she could tell that something was wrong.

“Shanna?” he said gruffly. “Your mother is in the hospital. They think she had a stroke. She’s not doing very well.”

Her face went pale as she dropped onto her seat in the cruiser.

“I’m sorry that you’re not going to be able to see her,” he muttered, sounding sympathetic, much to her surprise.

And then he dropped the subject as their day went on as usual.

The nearest intensive care hospital was all the way in Eau Claire, so there was no way she’d be able to get there, she realized.

The rest of her time in town was spent in a daze as she tried to accept the fact that her mom might not survive.

“I’m going to get you something to eat before we head back to the cabin,” Wes said, as they walked outside from the mall, and strolled along the street to the combination hamburger joint and drive in on the corner.

It was mid-morning, so the place wasn’t very busy yet. After having her go inside and sit in one of the booths, Wes ordered her food, bringing it back and watching to make sure she ate every bite of her hamburger as well as the chips that came with it.

He’d bought her a coke, so she quickly drew on the straw and finished it up.

“I’d better use the bathroom before we go back,” she said.

“Fine. Go ahead,” Wes replied, nodding toward the bathroom entrance.

A few minutes later, as Shanna washed her hands at the sink before leaving the restroom, someone familiar walked inside.

The woman looked at her oddly, and that’s when Shanna realized that she recognized her, although she was a few years older. Her name was Ashley Mitchum, a girl she’d gone to high school with.

Just when Ashley was about to say something, Shanna quickly headed out from the bathroom, hurrying toward Wes, who was waiting at the exit.

She’d better not say anything to Wes about Ashley possibly recognizing her. She doubted if Ashley remembered Shanna anyway.

When Wes coasted into the pier at the cabin another thirty minutes later, he hesitated. “Are you going to be alright?”

“Aren’t I always?” she answered dully.

Studying her, Wes nodded as she stepped out from the cruiser and began strolling back to the cabin with some of her groceries.

* * *

Another week later, Wes called Shanna, giving her the terrible news. Mom had passed away. The funeral that her sister Anya had arranged was happening today, and her mom was being buried in the cemetery beside Shanna’s grandparents since it had been arranged many years ago.

Surprisingly, Wes offered to take her to the cemetery later today when the service was over. Her sister might stay in town for a while, she realized. Someone had to go through Mom’s stuff and sell the house.

“I’d like that,” she replied, feeling even more helpless than she had years ago when she’d been handed over to Wes.

Why was he trying to be decent to her now, after everything he’d put her through? It was complicated for him, she supposed.

She wore her usual jeans and hooded sweatshirt with a wig over her head when Wes came to pick her up. She stepped into the passenger seat of his truck that he’d parked at the marina landing, where he usually docked his cruiser when they came to town. The cemetery was on the outskirts of Crystal Rock, so he’d decided to drive.

Wes drove along one of the cemetery roads, parking near the woods where her grandparents had both been buried—her grandfather first and her grandmother eight years later.

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