Always Dakota - Debbie Macomber [59]
Thirty minutes later, just as Calla was about to leave, the back door suddenly opened and Dennis walked in. He paused when he saw her, almost as though bracing himself for a confrontation.
“My mother’s too pale,” Calla said, accusing him.
“I know,” he muttered, frowning. “The blood test showed she’s anemic. That’s what her new prescription was for.” He looked around the kitchen. “You clean up here?”
She nodded. “Someone had to do it. My mother doesn’t like a mess. You’re her husband, you should know that.”
“I do—I just wish there were more hours in a day.”
Calla wasn’t interested in listening to his excuses. “You take care of her, understand?”
“You’d better believe it,” Dennis said grimly. Then he paused. “Listen, Calla. You and I might have our problems, but we do have one thing in common.”
Calla doubted it.
“We both love your mother.”
Five weeks after Axel had been pulled from her arms, Merrily woke up in Oklahoma City, sleeping in a cheap hotel and working at a job she hated. More and more, her thoughts were of Bob and Buffalo Valley, and the life she’d abandoned. She’d left with no intention of returning, but now, going back was all she thought about.
It was a revelation to her: she’d lost the taste for running. Despite what she’d been telling herself every day of these five miserable weeks, the only place she wanted to be was with Bob, her Buffalo Man in North Dakota. Somehow, without her noticing it, Buffalo Valley had become home.
Merrily believed Bob had betrayed her. So she’d done what she’d always done—and that was to escape. To run as far and as fast as she could. If Bob had kept his mouth shut, they’d still have Axel. If he hadn’t insisted they work this out through the legal system, no one in California would ever know what had become of the boy. Not a single person there cared that Axel was being abused by his father. Not until it was too late and the evidence was gone. The state had refused to listen when she’d reported that his mother was a drug addict. Because of her own previous conviction? Why should that matter? No one gave a damn about Axel—not the police and not Child Protective Services—until she’d risked everything and taken him. Overnight she was a criminal.
The people of California should be thanking her for saving his life; instead they called her a kidnapper and threatened her with a jail term that would make her an old woman by the time she was released.
What hurt most was that her husband, the man she loved, was responsible for this, the biggest loss of her life. He’d insisted they couldn’t be constantly looking over their shoulders, worrying, wondering.
Bob didn’t want anything hanging over his head; he hated living like a fugitive. He was also braver than she was, more trusting. Apparently he hadn’t gotten kicked in the teeth as many times as she had. He actually seemed to believe that once the courts heard the evidence, the two of them would get Axel back.
Merrily tried not to think about Axel, because every time she did her eyes filled with tears. In the past five weeks, she’d shed more tears than she would’ve guessed possible. They’d taken away her baby and despite all the promises, despite all the reassurances, she knew deep in her heart that she’d never see Axel again.
That was why she’d run. When the pain got too bad, that was what she always did. Her entire life had been spent racing from one “geographical cure” to another, seeking a new beginning, a fresh start, a way out. Not until she’d met Bob had she ever returned to one place. One man.
Sitting on the edge of the thin mattress, Merrily rubbed her face. She missed Bob and their home. She missed Axel, too, but there was nothing she could do about that, and the ache in her heart was even worse without Bob.
It didn’t take long to stuff her belongings in a bag. She paid the bill with cash, then worked an eight-hour shift at the all-night diner. Before she left, she filled her car with gas and headed north to Buffalo Valley. Headed home.
Not until she reached Sioux Falls, South Dakota,