Hide and Seek by Charlene Newberg Page A

into the bucket and made an effort to control her temper. "I’ve been watching my son.”
    "Remember the boil-water order,” he said and his sudden grin coaxed her to set her irritation aside. “By the way…Dad bolted down that roast beef sandwich you made. Now he’s going full throttle.”
    "But, I can tell you're worried," she prodded as he rubbed his shoulder.
    "The storm ruined the structural integrity to parts of this house. If my father tries to fix it without a contractor, he could get hurt.” Holt ran a hand over his head. “Dad should have listened to me months ago about moving back to Florida.”
    "You want all your ducks in a row."
    His dark gaze challenged hers. "What's wrong with that?"
    "I've lived with controlling men all my life, my grandfather, then Alan."
    "You didn't tell me Montero wants you for West Virginia’s first lady. If I hadn’t seen the bruises, I’d wonder why you would turn down the offer.”
    “I don’t love Alan, and it’s more complicated than that. It would be safer if you didn’t...” She hesitated, afraid of divulging too much information. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t ask so many questions. The less you know the safer.”
    His brows jammed. “That sounds ominous as hell, Caprice.” He appeared dissatisfied and brimming with endless questions, but she was grateful when he changed subjects. “Dad keeps board games and some toys for my two nieces when they visit. I'll hunt for them."
    "Thank you.” She gestured to the cupboards. “Apparently your father stocked up before the storm. He has some bread and plenty of canned foods.”
    Holt peered out the window then faced her. "Folks are leaving in droves, taking their kids."
    She ground her teeth. "Maybe a neighbor knows of someone who's heading south."
    "Right. I'll work on that."
    ****
    Using food from Holt’s camper and Jack’s kitchen, Caprice fixed a light dinner of vegetable soup, and canned chicken spread on bread. It was the best she could do under the circumstances. Afterwards, she joined Shawn and Jack at the kitchen table as they played a game of checkers. Outside, the powerful generator's constant humming filled the night air.
    Caprice enjoyed Jack's exaggerated, charade-like attempts to communicate with Shawn. How she wished her parents had lived to meet him, to see him conquer his fears, and hear his young laughter.
    Without warning, Armor jumped to his feet. Ears pricked forward, the shepherd growled, exposing jagged teeth.
    Her smile faded. Caprice left her chair and approached the window. The beam from a powerful flashlight skipped across the backyard and drew nearer. Inhaling sharply, she stepped away from the window.
    Terror spiked like an electric current. "Oh, God! How does he always find us?”
    Jack approached, his features etched with concern. "Who, darlin’?”
    She pointed. “It’s Alan, my ex.”

Chapter Four
    Her racing heart threatened to bolt from its caged confines, while Jack peered through the window. After several tense seconds, he spoke. "That's Holt.”
    The confidence in his tone slowed the slamming in her chest. “You’re sure?” She searched his eyes, desperate to believe him.
    “He’s putting gas into the generator."
    Caprice gripped her upper arms and turned from the window. “Sorry. I overreacted."
    "Granted, you’re a bit over-strung as one of Holt's cutting horses, but you’re a fine lady, nonetheless.” Jack’s face reddened, and he dashed at his eyes. “You pitched in to help a complete stranger. I'll never forget that, Caprice."
    "You would have done the same for me.” She forced a smile for his benefit. “You're fortunate to have Holt."
    Jack nodded his agreement. "With Holt’s smarts, height, and build, he would have made a superb officer, but the cattle business is in his blood."
    "He was married," she said as they returned to their seats.
    "Yep, but Lilah ran away just like Holt’s mother. When it comes to choosing women, Holt and I have had