God, if You’re there, if You’re listening, tell me what to do. Give me some sign that this woman really wants to help me. Save my baby.
The singing continued, bringing Traci the first comfort she’d felt in days.
You trusted that nice elderly couple when you first got away from Nate, an inner voice whispered.
But this time it was different. Even though the PI had gone for help, he’d once been a police officer and could decide to take matters into his own hands by making Traci go back to her husband under the threat of the law.
She would rather kill herself and her baby than ever face Nate again, which meant sticking to her plan to get away from here. But until Betsy was freed from that pipe, neither of them could go anywhere.
Since it didn’t look as if Chelsea was going to leave her alone, Traci had two choices—say nothing and disappear as soon as she could with Betsy. Or risk trusting the other woman enough to enlist her help once Betsy was free. If only she knew she could trust the other woman…
After a few more rounds Chelsea stopped so they could listen for Betsy’s voice. That’s when Traci asked, “Where did you learn to speak French like that?”
“In Switzerland. I think it’s a beautiful language. Even if she doesn’t understand the words, I hope Betsy likes the songs.”
“I know she does. How come you went there?”
“It—it’s a long story, Traci. Suffice it to say I was sent to Neuchâtel to get an education in a place where I would be safe.”
Her head lifted. “Safe? From what?”
She heard Chelsea suck in her breath. “From certain dangers at home. The happiest day of my life was the moment I boarded the plane and flew far away. That’s when my whole world turned around.”
Traci blinked in surprise. “Do you feel safe now?”
“Yes.”
“Are you married?”
“No.”
“I wish Betsy and I could fly away like that.” Traci’s voice shook.
“You’re in trouble, aren’t you.”
Her hands twisted together. “Yes.”
“A long time ago someone helped me so I could get away. Maybe if you told me what’s wrong, I could help you.”
Traci could feel the other woman’s sincerity. Chelsea would never know how much Traci wanted to trust her.
“T-there’s a man after me.”
“Your husband?”
“Yes. How did you know?”
“Because no man can frighten a woman quite like an abusive lover or spouse. Is he dangerous?”
“Yes.”
“Is he in the house? Is that why you won’t go over there and don’t want me going over there, either?”
Traci struggled. If this woman turned out to be an enemy…
“It’s all right, Traci. Because I was so helpless when I was younger, I learned how to use a firearm in college. Since then I’ve worn a concealed weapon on the job and can defend myself if necessary.”
With a sob Traci muttered, “I wish I’d had one of those a long time ago. Where do you wear it?”
“On my thigh.” She pulled up her dress to reveal the feminine-looking holster strapped to her leg. “I go to the police firing range all the time to stay in practice,” she said before pulling the material down to her knees.
“I would never have guessed.”
“That’s the whole idea. Traci, does your husband blame you for letting Betsy fall down in the excavation? If that’s the case and he comes over here to harm you in any way, he’ll have to deal with me!” Chelsea vowed.
Traci believed her.
“He won’t be coming out of the house b-because I don’t live there.”
“What?” Chelsea sounded incredulous. “Then what are you doing out here on this deserted road?”
“I ran away from my husband ten days ago. Betsy and I have been hitchhiking ever since. I got dropped off here this morning. While I waited for another truck to give us a ride, it started to get overcast and cold. I put Betsy down just long enough to peek in the window of that house and see if there was someone who might give us something to eat. But the place was vacant. When I turned around, I—I couldn’t find my baby!”
Tears gushed from her puffy eyes, and she buried her face in her hands.
“I know he’s after us and won’t stop until he finds us. But I figure he’ll have a harder time if we get lost somewhere in Mexico.”
The shocking revelations left Chelsea gasping. “Where are you from?” She needed to know how big a headstart Traci had on this monster husband of hers. Anyone driven to these extremes had to be running from a living nightmare. Chelsea could relate. The desire to help this woman at any cost almost overwhelmed her.
“Bellevue, Washington.”
The poor thing had come such a long way alone. It was a miracle she and the baby had made it this far without something tragic happening to them before now.
“Does your husband have a car?”
“Yes.”
“What about a gun?”
“He has an arsenal of them, plus thousands of rounds of ammunition.”
The man sounded like a hunter, but he could also be one of those paranoiacs who believed doomsday was coming soon and had the right to be a one-man army for the final standoff.
“Didn’t you have a neighbor who could have helped you?”
She shook her head. “We live in a cabin in the woods outside the city. Nate doesn’t trust people.”
Chelsea didn’t need a picture to figure out Traci had gotten involved with an introverted survivalist. The dangerous kind who lived by one set of rules. His own.
“Listen to me, Traci.” She’d get the rest of the details later. “I have a plan to help you, but you have to trust me.”
The young mother stared at her for a long moment. “I’m going to have to, seeing as I’m trapped here until we get Betsy out.”
“I know exactly how you feel, but I swear I’ll be your friend if you’ll let me. You know that man who went for help?”
“No! Please don’t involve him. Please. He’ll turn me in or make me go back to Nate!”
“No, he won’t! He likes me and will do what I say.”
The irony of that statement would have made Chelsea laugh out loud if this weren’t a life-and-death situation. “We’re going to need his expertise, not only to rescue Betsy, but to hide you and keep you safe from your husband.”
Traci averted her eyes.
“You can trust him the same way you trust me. You have my word.”
“I’m afraid. How do I know he’ll listen to you?”
“I guess you don’t know—it’s a question of faith,” Chelsea asserted. “But I’d trust Max with my life.” It was only the truth, despite the problems between them. “He’s dealt with men like your husband before. He has resources and connections. Look—maybe your husband stopped learning to trust a long time ago, but I know you’re not like that. I know you’d do anything to help your baby. When Max gets back, do I have your permission to tell him the truth?”
She waited for the words to sink in, then murmured