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They rested, ate, talked, and savored the comforts of the tiny trailer.

Cullen plugged the sink drain, and together they gave Tot a bath.

Tot chortled and splashed everywhere, playing with the plastic measuring cup Kit had found in the drawer while they checked her closely for any wounds or bruises.

It took both of them to rinse off her hair without getting water into her eyes.

When Tot was clean and redressed, Cullen fixed her a fresh bottle, warming it in the microwave, which felt like the height of luxury.

Kit eyed the powder, estimating they had enough for about six more.

The count unleashed a flood of fresh worry, but at least they had snacks to keep her nourished.

They sat shoulder to shoulder on the couch while he fed her.

Cullen rolled his neck and exhaled. “I love this place.”

She sighed. “I live in a trailer, and there’s nothing better.”

“Yeah? Maybe I’ll look into getting one on my property.”

“What about your cabin?”

“Probably not going to be there when I get back. I’ll rebuild, but it will take time. This is a sweet setup. Cozy, right? White-picket-fence worthy.”

She let herself imagine it for only a moment. A white picket fence meant safety and belonging. The way he was looking at her made that tingle of unease flare higher.

“Is your trailer like that?” he said casually. “Some place snug and scenic where you come home between your trips, I mean. A place to set down roots?”

“It’s a place to live,” she said quietly. “I don’t want any roots.”

He flinched. She’d struck a nerve, and it grieved her, but she had to still the wild thrumming of her pulse, had to hold on to the slender string that knotted her insides together. “That’s not the life for me.”

He paused for a moment. “May I ask why not?”

Nothing would do but the truth. “I don’t want anyone to depend on me. It’s too much weight, and I’m not strong enough to sustain anyone else.”

“But you have been. Me and Tot, this whole time.”

“These circumstances”—she waved a hand—“aren’t real.”

“It’s as real as it gets.”

She shook her head. “Not to me. In the day to day, I don’t want the commitment of relationships, to know someone’s waiting for me to come home.”

“Do you feel that way because of what happened to your dad? Because he let you and your mother down by breaking the law?”

She stiffened, got up, arms wrapped around herself. “There were too many expectations, financial and emotional, from me and mom. He did what he had to do.”

Cullen shook his head. “No. He did something he knew was wrong for the right reasons.”

Fury clawed at her. How dare he pass judgment on her father? “Don’t talk to me about Dad.”

He didn’t shrink from her emotion. “Then let’s talk about you. You avoid relationships because you don’t want to fail someone else like your dad and your ex-husband did. So you cut yourself off and limit your future because you’re scared of hurting or being hurt.”

Scared? Hadn’t she recently survived a crash, a landslide, and nearly drowning in a tunnel? “You don’t know what’s best for me, Cullen.”

“Maybe I do.”

Her breath went shallow, irritation sparking to anger. “You’ve known me for a couple days. Stop trying to be some sort of hero in my life, okay?”

His face fell, the softness vanishing behind a mask of hard lines bracketing his mouth. He looked away from her, and his pain was hers, because she’d caused it. Because she’d probably ended whatever might have been between them with that one remark.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Not the first time I’ve heard that.”

She knew. She’d just used his reluctant confession of what his partner’s husband had said to push him away. Misery clogged her throat.

“I thought we had something between us.” His eyes were incandescent in the glow from the lamp. “But like you said, not real. Shouldn’t have assumed or tried to come off like I was an expert about your family. I apologize.”

“I...” But she could not think of a single thing to say to erase the hurt she’d caused because it had accomplished exactly what she’d wanted—severing the bond growing between them. His expression remained shuttered, his body curved in, as if he was losing the battle against physical pain.

She mumbled something and escaped to the shower.

She cranked the hot water until it was almost painful.

Using the berry-scented shampoo and conditioner, she washed the grit and ash from her hair, repeating until she was sure every atom had been rinsed down the drain.

Thelma’s pink towels were plush and pillowy, and she helped herself to one for her body and wrapped another around her hair before she redressed.

She should have felt on top of the world, but there was an ache in her stomach that wouldn’t quit.

“You look like you’ve solved the mysteries of the universe,” Cullen whispered when she emerged into the kitchen. He was joking, but the animation and ease were missing.

She forced a smile. “Pretty sure I have. You might want to wait an hour before you shower because I used up all the hot water.”

He gave her a thumbs-up, no smile. “Tot’s asleep on the floor in the room with all the jigsaw puzzles. I’ll bunk there with her.”

She nodded. “I can take over baby watch in a couple hours.”

“Sure. And first thing in the morning, I’ll climb up that trail past where the bus is parked to see if I can get a signal. I’ll bring back our empty bottles so we can refill them with boiled water.”

“Do you think we can drive to the evac zone from here?”

“We’ll look at the map together. You’ll have to see if you think the bus can take the terrain.”

She yawned. “Will you and Tot be warm enough? There’s an extra blanket in the hall closet.”

“We’ll manage.” He disappeared into the back room.

“Good night,” she said faintly, but the only reply was the sound of the door closing. She trekked to the bed and climbed in, snuggling under the quilt.

She slept fitfully, waking often with a sense of panic, reminding herself where she was and that they were safe, temporarily. Her own words replayed in her mind again and again.

Stop trying to be some sort of hero in my life , okay?

Shame licked at her. Surely there must have been some other way of explaining why they wouldn’t be a couple than wounding him like that? In spite of her worry, she drifted off to sleep once more.

Sometime later, a tap on the door made her sit up. Cullen brought Tot in.

“What time is it?” she whispered.

“Four thirty. Sunup in an hour. I’m going to try for a signal.” He settled Tot on the bed next to her. The baby didn’t even stir.

Kit watched him go as he closed the door quietly. Her eyes were gritty, her body still sagging with exhaustion, yet there would be no more sleep as she waited for Cullen to return. For a while she watched Tot’s breathing, the steady rise and fall of her small chest.

She rested until she heard the squelch of boots crossing the wet ground.

Cullen must have gotten a signal. Excitement surged through her.

She jumped up and pulled on her shoes. Best be ready to go quickly if he got info on a nearby rescue crew or a place where a helicopter could fetch them.

It would be over soon, she could feel it.

She was turning to Tot when it struck her that Cullen wouldn’t approach the front of the trailer.

They’d left the main door locked and used only the side door.

So if it wasn’t Cullen out there...

Terror ignited her muscles. She quickly locked herself in the bedroom with Tot. No phone. She couldn’t contact Cullen. The curtains were closed. She eased a corner up the tiniest amount. It was still dark outside, and she couldn’t spot anyone, until...

Nico moved along the alley created by this trailer and the one next door. He was no more than six feet away, his profile clear. She shot a desperate look at the baby. If Tot woke and cried out, Nico would hear.

What do I do?

“I know you’re in one of these trailers, Kit. Your bodyguard has left you alone, right?” Nico called out.

He’d been watching, tracking, waiting. She felt the panic slowly smothering her.

“He won’t get back before I’m done with you. My brother and I, we’re very, very good at getting rid of women who don’t tow the line.”

Her heart seized. Getting rid of women ... like the ones he’d enslaved? He’d murdered them for resisting, for trying to break free. And there was only the flimsy envelope in the duffel bag to use against him. That wasn’t going to save her now.

Fear made her breathing shallow out, her head spin.

Paralysis began to overtake her body until she shook it off.

Nico wouldn’t win. No way was that happening.

She ran to the bedroom closet and eased open the door.

There had to be something she could use to defend herself and Tot. A baseball bat? A walking stick?

But there was nothing in the closet except for clothes and a pile of pillows.

“Where are you, lady?” Nico said, louder now, tone wheedling.

“I didn’t mean what I said. Frustrated is all.

Sick and tired of all this nature. I’m a city boy.

If you come out, I won’t hurt you. I’ll take whatever Annette left you, the stuff she used to threaten me.

She thought telling me would be enough to keep me from coming for her.

Big mistake, but not your fault, right? That’s all I want, the photos and whatever else.

Not you or the kid. No need for any bloodshed. ”

Liar.

He was moving toward the back of the trailer now, where he’d find the broken door that no longer locked.

She grabbed a hanger from the closet and began to untwist the sturdy wire. The end was not terribly sharp and it wouldn’t do much damage, but it was her only weapon and she would use it.

Nico’s voice was close now, directly under the window and moving toward the side door. “I’m going to find you, and you know what’s going to happen when I do.”

She did.

She and Tot would die.

Fingers ice cold, she finished untwisting the wire and prepared to defend them both.