Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 144571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 723(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 482(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 723(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 482(@300wpm)
“What has my boy gotten into now?” Joyce asked with a sigh. “Or the better question…what has my sister dragged her son into? Come on. I’ve got some whiskey back at camp. Zach’s not here right now. He comes and goes, but you can at least tell me what’s going on.”
Kala began to follow her.
“Baby, you know we’re not supposed to… You’re going to tell her.” It was inevitable. He hoped they had cells for couples wherever the Agency was going to hold them.
Kala smiled and followed.
* * * *
Kala sank down on the bench Joyce had placed in front of the firepit someone had dug. Given how perfectly precise and deep that sucker was, she was betting it hadn’t been Joyce. She noticed the way Joyce held her rifle. She was firm and had a steady hand, but she hadn’t held the rifle above the middle of her chest even though she’d been below them. The older woman also avoided shifting her left shoulder when she’d set down her pack and welcomed them into camp. She had an old shoulder injury according to her records—yes, she’d read them—and it looked like it definitely still bothered her. She wouldn’t be able to lift the shovel enough to dig a pit as deep as the one in front of them.
Zach was here somewhere, and she had to pray he didn’t run.
He saved Lou and Aidan when he didn’t have to. He talked to Lou. Maybe he would talk to her.
But first she was going to work Joyce for every bit of intel she could, and she would use the woman’s obvious love for her dad. “This is nice. I haven’t spent a lot of time in this park, but I did go hiking and camping in the national forest land around Bliss.”
Joyce sat down on an old camp chair across the pit from Kala and Coop. Cooper had immediately taken the seat beside Kala, his big presence reminding her she wasn’t alone in this op. Nope. She had a keeper, and he might not like the way she played this game.
“Oh, I love that town. I sometimes work in Creede. Just temp jobs where they need me. And sometimes the lodge on Elk Creek Pass has seasonal work.” Joyce sat back. “I love it here, but it’ll be too cold soon. I’ll have to move on to Arizona and California. The desert is beautiful, too.”
“I bet it is. How long have you been on the road?” Kala asked.
Cooper turned his head her way and gave her a grin and a wink that said you’re doing great, babe.
She was pretending to be her sister. Everyone loved Kenzie. Everyone talked to Kenzie. Kenzie cared about people.
Although it wasn’t like she hated the woman in front of her. Not at all. Joyce seemed kind. Kala cared about Zach, and this woman had been his rock. Was she pretending to be Kenz or was she simply uncomfortable with the part of herself that actually wanted to know Joyce’s story? If she knew Joyce’s story, she would probably like her for herself and liking people…it was hard.
Cooper had said she felt deeply. Cooper knew her. Was he right and she was being a coward because caring about people meant opening herself up to hurt? Because the truth of the matter was, she did want to know Joyce’s story, the one beyond what was in her file. She wanted to know why she roamed the way she did when once she’d had a place to live and roots.
She also wanted to know why she kept staring at Cooper like he was some golden god of a man deigning to visit her home. Joyce wasn’t even trying to take her eyes off him.
The older woman seemed to realize she was staring and shook it off, moving her attention back to Kala. “Oh, I started van life years ago. I never liked to stay in one place too long. It was what I loved about the Army. Never stayed at a base more than a year or two and then we moved out.”
“You had a stellar record,” Cooper pointed out. “I’m surprised you left.”
Her eyes were back on him, concentrating in a way that made Kala uncomfortable. Like she was looking for something in his eyes.
Or Cooper was a work of art and she could still see and appreciate him.
She needed to tamp down her jealousy. Tolerance was more of a Kenzie trait. She could do it. She didn’t have to plant a flag and defend her territory from an elderly woman who in all other ways seemed super sweet.
“I didn’t want to. I had to. My sister got into some trouble,” she said quietly. “Shannon was ten years younger than me. Our momma called her an accident, and not a happy one. I’m afraid I was more of a mother to her than our own. By the time she came along, Mom was bitter and angry all the time. She would tell Shannon that she only had her to spite her biological father.”