sweatshirts and pants folded and set aside. It had exposed her legs, which were mottled with faint bruising, evidence of an earlier beating. Whoever had put their hands on this girl had done it repeatedly, systematically, and with a definite intent to inflict harm.
Pulling a sampling of the selections from the bag, she held them out in offering. The girl eyed the items in Vanna’s hands. “Thank you for everything.” She accepted each of the foodstuffs tentatively, as if Vanna might snatch them back at any moment, resting them carefully in her lap as she reached for the next. “You’re too kind. This is too much.”
“Oh, honey, I’ve got more where that came from. I always carry extra with me. Never know when I might get hungry or meet someone in need.” Vanna retreated a few feet away, placed her blanket and the pack at the base of a tree, settled on the cushioning surface, and then leaned back against the trunk. She opened her water and took a long drink, finishing with a satisfied “Ahhhh.”
The girl followed suit, sipping more cautiously, wincing as the plastic opening pressed against her swollen lip. “This is real good. Thank you.” She plucked at the seam on the foil packet of the toaster pastries, opened it, and reached inside to break off a piece. The first bite was quickly followed by another and another, until the pouch was empty. “I—” The girl laughed. “My lands. I didn’t realize I was that hungry.”
“Going without’ll do that to ya.” Vanna opened her protein bar and nibbled off one corner. “That jerky is good. The turkey is my favorite. Not too spicy.” She leaned her head back and stared up through the pine needles of the limbs overhead, seeing swatches of blue sky mixed with high, white clouds. “Lemme know if you need help opening it.” One of the girl’s fingers had swollen into a barely bendable lump, either with a dislocated knuckle or broken. “Weatherman is calling for rain tonight. You set up for that?”
“Rain?” The tension in the girl’s voice had Vanna looking back towards her. She was peering at the sky over the parking lot, the storm approaching from the west not yet visible. “With lightning?”
“What they said.” Vanna took another bite. “Want me to open the jerky for you?” The girl nodded, and Vanna stood, ducking as she walked out from under the tree. She got closer, and the girl handed the package back. “I’m Vanna.” She gave a nod as she unzipped the top of the plastic and then wrestled the seam of the package open. “Here you go. I’ve got more water, too.” She handed another bottle of water to the girl, along with the seasoned meat. “You worried about the storm?”
Making her way back to the folded blanket, she resumed her position against the trunk of the tree. The girl finished the bite of jerky she’d stuffed into her mouth before responding, swallowing hard around the dried turkey.
“Maybe? I sure don’t like ’em.” She lifted another bite to her mouth, then let her hand fall away. “You think it’ll get bad? It’s not tropical, is it?”
“No, just a storm front. Probably wind, lightning, thunder, and rain. It’s the wrong time of year for tornados.” Reaching into the pocket of her khakis, Vanna pulled out her phone and unlocked it, smiling at the text waiting for her.
Headed home to my baby.
Vanna fired off a quick response to Truck, letting him know she’d received his message, then opened the weather app she used.
“Looks like it’s strengthened. It’s hours away yet, though, so plenty of time to get you somewhere safe.” She glanced at the girl, who was chewing slowly, staring off into the distance. “You got people around? I can give you a lift pretty much anywhere, honey.”
“No, ma’am. I got nobody here.” She restlessly reached out and touched the piles of fabric she’d folded and stacked to the side, as if in reassurance they were still where she’d left them.
A tiny thing she could control. This wasn’t Vanna’s first rodeo in the human rescue department, and experience gave her insight into the girl’s behaviors. Persistently calling Vanna ma’am, the sincere gratitude for the smallest of things, fear of accusation of misbehavior—everything screamed controlling and abusive relationship. Now to find out if it had been the girl’s family, or a boyfriend, or if she’d escaped something else.
“Like I said, my name is Vanna.” The girl cut her eyes to the side