Page 58 of Line of Resistance

“Not everyone is good at taking tests.” She couldn’t help but be angry at all the people who’d let this man down in his life. “It doesn’t mean you’re not smart.”

“Pretty sure that’s exactly what it means.” Nate didn’t miss a beat. His response was sharp and immediate.

“Evading men with guns might be your specialty, but education is mine, and I can tell you with one hundred percent certainty that a test doesn’t indicate how smart you are. It only shows how good you are at regurgitating information.” Anger brewed in her belly, hot and sour. “And you can only regurgitate information that’s been fed to you in a way you can digest.” She’d fought with more than a few educators, and even a handful of parents, over this very thing. “Not everyone learns in the same way.”

Nate’s steps slowed, but she just kept ranting.

“And people with ADHD can’t usually learn by just reading information. They need practice tests and memory matching exercises and—”

“Eloise.” Nate cut her off, stopping her tirade. He jerked his chin in the direction they were heading. “Look.”

She lifted her eyes and nearly gasped at the sight of the cabin in front of them. It was tucked into the mountainside and a curl of smoke filtered up from the chimney. “Holy shit.”

Nate’s hands relaxed, letting her legs slide down from where they were hooked around his waist. “You stay here.”

He started to walk away, but she grabbed him, tugging him back. “What? No. I want to come with you.”

He turned to her, gloved hands coming to cradle her face. “I’m glad to know you aren’t sick of me yet, but until I know that place is safe, you’re not going anywhere near it.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

NATE

NATE GLANCED OVER his shoulder one final time, making sure Eloise was completely out of sight before pulling in a calming breath and raising his knuckles to rap on the door.

The place was definitely occupied. There were lights on in the windows and both a four-wheel-drive SUV and a snowmobile were parked under the attached carport. Each one looked just as well cared for as the relatively spacious cabin. The place might not be accessible by vehicle year-round, but the electric wires linking it to the grid made him realize he’d done the right thing by not turning on his phone.

They were definitely getting closer to civilization.

He waited a few minutes before knocking again. Whoever was inside was probably not used to having visitors, so he was prepared for it to take some time and a little begging to get them to open the door. But the longer he waited, the better he felt about who was on the other side of the door.

Because they obviously weren’t interested in him.

“Hello? My name’s Nate Giles.” He raised his voice loud enough that whoever was in the house would be able to hear him. “I was stranded on Steese Highway and got turned around. My cell phone died and I need to call someone to come get me.” He glanced at the trees again, barely catching sight of Eloise as she peeked around the trunk before ducking behind it. He sighed, not at all surprised she wasn’t staying hidden like he told her to.

He knocked again. Waiting as more minutes ticked by.

“Maybe nobody’s home.”

He dropped his head back, staring up at the roof of the little porch. “You really aren’t good at staying put.”

“It’s been forever.” Eloise crept up behind him, peeking over his shoulder. “Maybe we should just,” she widened her eyes tilting her head toward the door, “you know. Like we did at the hunting cabin.”

She wanted him to break into an obviously occupied home? “We’re not—”

The door yanked open, sending him jumping in front of Eloise, making sure her body was completely blocked by his as he faced down the occupant of the cabin.

A tiny wisp of an old woman stared out at him, her wrinkled face scrunched into a scowl as she pointed the double barrel of a shotgun at the center of the chest. “You don’t take a hint very well.”

Nate lifted both hands in the universal sign of surrender. “We aren’t meaning to intrude. We just really need—”

“Oh my gosh.” Eloise darted out from behind him, moving fast enough there was no stopping her. “Is your sweater hand knit?” She beamed at the old woman, her voice bright and warm. “I just love the colors.”

The woman stared at her a second, snarl still curling her lips, shotgun still aimed at his chest. After a few heartbeats her eyes dropped down to her chest. “Not much to do out here but knit.”

“Well, you’re really good at it.” Eloise continued smiling brightly, easily slipping back into the woman he once believed she was. “I’m Eloise and this is Nate.” She reached out to pat his chest before stepping in front of him, putting her body squarely between him and the shotgun.

And that wasn’t going to happen.

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