Page 8 of Clara's Secure Hideaway

She glanced over her shoulder then her wide eyes met his again. “No. We can’t be there right now.”

Intuition tightened his gut. “Did something happen?”

“Mitch came to the house,” she said, her voice hushed but words full of venom. “I had to get the kids out of there for a few nights.”

“Can I take you somewhere else?” he asked, willing to drive her and her kids across the country if necessary.

She drew in a shuddering breath and nodded. “Yes. Will you drive us to Safe Haven Women’s Shelter?”

* * *

An icy blastbarreled against Clara. Her body trembled, but it wasn’t only from the cold. She struggled to unbuckle Davey from his seat in the police cruiser while Heath wrangled Avery out of the car and swung her up on his hip. The way he gently tucked her pink jacket around Avery’s shoulders melted something inside of her.

Her daughter had never known a tender touch from a male figure. The bemused look on the toddler’s little face was enough to bring tears to Clara’s eyes.

Setting Davey on his feet, she placed a hand on his shoulder. “Stay right here while I get our bags, okay?”

Wide-eyed, Davey nodded.

“I’ll get that.” Heath handed over Avery and popped the trunk. He plucked their little suitcase out like it weighed nothing and carried it toward the large house off the town square in Pine Valley.

Forcing a smile for the kids’ sake, she took hold of Davey’s hand and walked toward the wraparound porch that circled the house. If it wasn’t so cold, the turmoil churning in her gut would slow her steps. But she didn’t want her children outside longer than necessary. She didn’t have the luxury of building up her courage or fighting against the shame slithering up her spine. This was a necessary step to keeping her babies safe and that’s all that mattered.

As she climbed the porch steps, the front door swung open, and Mrs. Collins appeared in the doorway. Her smile was genuine, and she spread her arms wide before crouching low. “Davey! I’m so happy to see you again. Can I have a hug?”

Davey glanced up at Clara for approval, and when she gave a subtle dip of her chin, he ran forward and jumped into the older woman’s arms.

Avery squirmed on her hip until Clara set her on her feet then raced to get a hug like her brother.

“And there’s Miss Avery,” Mrs. Collins said, widening her arms to include the little girl. “I swear you’ve grown since the last time I saw you. Come on inside. I have some snacks in the kitchen and a nice, big room all ready for you.”

The knot tying up Clara’s insides loosened. Just seeing Mrs. Collins in her worn overalls and glasses hanging around her neck erased some of the terror wrapped around her since Mitch had stepped foot in the diner. The time she’d spent at the shelter months before had been filled with so much happiness. Had helped build her confidence and shown her that she could provide a bright future for her family.

As if reading her mind, Mrs. Collins stood and reached for her hand. “And of course, anything else you need is here as well. For as long as you need it.”

Emotions simmered at the surface, ready to burst free. But she didn’t want to break down in front of the children—or Heath for that matter. “Thank you.”

“Would you like me to take your bag to your room?” Heath asked.

“No thanks, you’ve done plenty already,” she said, staring at her sneakers. She didn’t want to see the pity in his brown eyes or the hard set of his dark-stubbled jaw that broadcasted his opinion.

He stepped away from the suitcase and pressed his mouth in a firm line. “I’ll have someone take a look at your car in the morning.”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that.”

Mrs. Collins squeezed her hand. “Let him help.”

She swallowed her instinct to insist she was fine and could figure things out herself. Because, really, what could she do? She had little money, no knowledge of how to fix a car, and at the moment no way to even get to her vehicle.

Keeping her gaze on her worn tennis shoes, she nodded. “I appreciate it.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Can I speak with you privately for a second?”

Her stomach dropped. He’d joked with the kids on the short car ride to the shelter. She’d been grateful she hadn’t needed to contribute much. Her nerves were too strained, her fear of Mitch’s eventual retaliation too strong to form coherent thoughts.

“How about I take the kids inside and read them a story by the fire?” Mrs. Collins flashed her a reassuring a smile. “Maybe make things more exciting with some hot chocolate?”

Clara’s hands trembled, and she clasped them in front of her waist to keep them still. “Sure. You two be good for Mrs. Collins.”

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