Harlequin Love Inspired Suspense March 2021--Box Set 2 of 2 by Dana Mentink (novels to improve english txt) 📗

the fresh-fallen snow as more fell around them. The dim lighting made it difficult for her to locate any assailants, but so far they appeared to be in the clear.

Layke placed Gabe in the back seat. “Buckle him in.” He opened the driver’s door and jumped in, starting the vehicle.

She holstered her weapon, climbed in beside the boy and fastened his seat belt.

Layke pulled the Suburban out of the parking lot without the lights on and took a back road.

“Do you know where you’re going?” she asked.

“Nope, just didn’t want to go out the front.”

Good point.

An idea popped into her mind. “A friend of mine has a cabin in the woods about thirty miles from here. We could hide there.”

“We can’t put her in danger.”

“She’s not there. She left yesterday for a trip to Hawaii.”

Layke hesitated.

She could almost tell what he was thinking. “I know where the key is. She told me I was welcome to go there if I ever needed to get away. I think this qualifies, don’t you?”

“Definitely.” He peered in the rearview mirror. “Looks like we got away undetected. That will make them angry and they won’t give up. Which direction do we take?”

She guided him through the streets to get them out of the small town toward the cabin.

Moments later, he pulled onto the AlCan Highway. Thankfully, the road was somewhat deserted. Most residents had probably made their way home from work and were settled in from the winter elements. Too bad they weren’t.

The snow intensified and the vehicle fishtailed, swerving toward the ditch.

“Hang on!” Layke yelled.

Gabe screamed.

She pulled him closer as if that would protect him from the dangerous icy highway.

If it wasn’t gunmen out to get them, it was Mother Nature.

They couldn’t catch a break.

Layke righted the vehicle back onto the road as two headlights blocked their path like a speeding train.

The car headed directly toward them, locked in an icy skid.

* * *

Layke ignored Gabe’s scream and jerked the wheel left, catching the tire in a rut of ice and snow deposited by a snowplow. The Suburban lurched back toward the oncoming car.

Hannah gasped.

The car inched closer as if time passed in slow motion. Layke held his breath waiting for impact.

At the last moment, the driver lay on the horn and swerved around them.

Layke let out a swoosh of air. He pulled them back onto the right side of the highway.

“Good driving, Constable,” Hannah said.

“Thanks.” He’d had lots of practice on the deadly winter roads along the Banff Highway near his home in Calgary.

“God kept us safe.”

He glanced over his shoulder at her. Did she really believe that?

“What? You don’t believe in God?” she asked.

Did his face reveal how he felt about someone he couldn’t see or touch? The same someone who hadn’t intervened whenever he’d supposedly disobeyed his mother and faced the wrath of her fist? He turned his eyes back to the snowy road. No, he wouldn’t let God in his life. Now or ever.

“I don’t.” He’d leave it at that.

“Why?”

“God loves you, Mr. Layke.” Gabe’s soft voice boomed in his ear.

Not him, too. Layke was surrounded.

“That’s right, Gabe,” Hannah said. “He loves all of us. No matter what.”

He needed to change the subject. He wasn’t willing to go there. “How much longer to the cabin?”

“About twenty minutes,” Hannah replied.

Great. That was an eternity if they wanted to talk about God. He had to steer the conversation in a different direction. “Sport, what do you want to be when you grow up?”

“A brave policeman like you.”

Layke gulped and pushed the unexpected emotions away. This boy knew how to capture his hardened heart. When had Layke become so closed?

You know when.

A memory surfaced.

Mommy, why can’t I go with the other boys to the park? His six-year-old mind hadn’t been able to comprehend why his mom hated him so much.

Her hazel eyes had narrowed, flashing like a flame spitting in a bonfire. Little boy, you will do as your mother says.

But all the other kids get to go. Why not me?

She’d rushed over and slapped him across the face. Hard.

His hand had flown to his stinging cheek as he toppled backward over the chair. Tears followed and his breath came in raspy spurts.

Don’t be a baby. You are such a spoiled little—

A blaring horn wrenched him back to the present.

“Watch out, Layke!”

He pulled the vehicle back into the right lane. Stupid!

The memory of the first time she had hit him had caused his concentration to waver. He couldn’t let that happen again. His mother had brought enough pain into his life. He didn’t need to add to it by having an accident.

“How much longer?” he asked.

“Almost at the turnoff—it’s hard to see in this snowstorm.”

She wasn’t wrong. The snow would not let up. He turned the wipers to full speed and still had problems seeing through the fat white flakes plaguing them. He rubbed at the condensation forming on the inside of the windshield. Great, as if his view wasn’t already blocked enough. He bit his lip to stop him from uttering a word he’d later regret, especially in front of the boy.

“There!” Hannah leaned in between the seats and pointed left. “That’s the road to take.”

He flipped on the signal and pulled on to the snowy road. “How far? This road is not in good condition.” He swerved to miss a mound of snow.

“Five minutes.”

“I’m hungry,” Gabe said.

The boy’s whine matched Layke’s frame of mind.

“I hear ya, sport. Me, too.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I hope there’s food at this cabin.”

“Should be. It’s winterized, as she comes out here most weekends, so I’m sure we’ll find something.”

The deserted road wove around a bend. Layke held the wheel tight to keep the vehicle steady. The only light came from the Suburban. Not a soul in sight.

Good. They could hide.

Ten minutes later Hannah pointed again. “That’s it.”

A driveway sat off to the right. He turned up the incline, plowing through the white mess. He held his breath and willed the tires to