Page 6 of Can She Get Home for Christmas?

Instead he walked to his side of the vehicle and opened the driver’s door. Still, Samantha jumped when he leaned in.

“We’d better go.”

“Where?”

“I have a cabin up the road,” he said, trying not to sound embarrassed. The place was neat, but it was bare bones and lacked certain amenities—like indoor plumbing.

“How far?”

“A little over a mile.”

She sighed but didn’t voice a complaint.

He reached in the back of the SUV and hefted the duffel and the bags of food. The food was heavier.

“Can you manage the duffel?”

“I think so.” but when she lifted it, she frowned. “It’s a long walk. Maybe I can leave some stuff out.”

“Good idea.”

She unzipped the bag, took out a pair of jeans, a couple of tee shirts and a pair of shoes, which she tossed onto the seat. He would have carried the clothing for her if he hadn’t needed to bring the food. But he’d been so sure that the killer was coming soon that he hadn’t wanted to go out for supplies. Now there was almost nothing in the little house besides crackers and canned salmon.

“I wish this was a backpack,” she said.

“Maybe I can rig something.”

With rope in the trunk, he circled one end of the duffel and cinched it tight, then did the same with the other side, leaving some slack in the middle.

“Let me help you get it on.”

Standing behind her, he hoisted the carry bag to her shoulders and pulled the rope to the front of her body, feeling the intimacy of adjusting the weight on her back.

“How does it feel?” he asked.

“Not too bad.”

“You can always alternate with holding it in your arms if your back starts to hurt.”

“This is better. It’s insulation. It covers more of me.”

“Right.”

When she was set and he’d picked up the food bags, he stepped off the road and headed for the trees. The wind had ticked up, and he ducked his head against a blast of snow. It was better under the branches, but still the flying flakes stung his face.

“We’re walking through the woods?” she asked.

“It’s safer. Also, better if you stay in back of me so we don’t make a wide path. Plus I can block the snow from getting in your face.”

“Appreciated.” She waited several beats, then asked, “You think he can find the car?”

“I hope not, but this is the best I can do.”

As he started off, she asked another question, “How do you know the way? I mean, it’s almost dark. And I’m assuming you don’t want to use a flashlight.”

“Right. No lights. When I staked out the highway from this location, I always came through the woods.”

“How long have you been doing this? I mean, coming here to look for the guy?”

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