to your ego, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” She headed toward the RV park. The few lighted windows and glowing tent domes pierced the darkness, and a couple of campfires still burned.
“You’re walking away from me?” He sounded incredulous.
“That depends,” she said.
“On what?”
“On whether or not you follow.” She didn’t look back. She had to get control of herself. He probably wasn’t used to women walking away from him. Well, she sure as heck wasn’t used to men talking about falling in love, so they were even.
chapter 39
“Seventy-six bottles of beer on the wall,” sang Charlie and Ashley as they sped along a sunbaked highway, the RV sweeping past a shaded rest area.
Lily thought she would need seventy-six bottles of beer very soon. Charlie had been recalcitrant during tutorials today, and Lily’s patience was wearing thin.
Abruptly, Charlie stopped singing.
Only Ashley kept going. “Seben-sibe bobbles of beer on the wall…”
“Uncle Sean, stop!” Charlie yelled. “Right now, you have to stop!”
Lily turned around, alarmed by the note of panic in her voice.
Sean reacted instantly, pulling off to the side of the road. “What’s the matter?”
“You have to go back to that rest area. You have to do it right this very minute.” She was nearly hysterical.
“Honey, there’s a bathroom on board.”
“Please go back,” she begged. “Please. I saw something.”
Lily felt Sean’s skeptical look. Her instincts told her to respect Charlie in this, and her instincts were getting pretty sharp. When Lily told her sister why she wanted to use the Winnebago, Violet had said, “Just remember, when it comes to being a parent, you know more than you think you know.”
She jerked her thumb behind them, signaling for him to go back. “We’re making good time today,” she said. “We can stop for a few minutes.”
Lily just hoped it wasn’t more roadkill. The inevitable sight of dead animals lying at the side of the road made Charlie cry. When she cried, so did Ashley, and it made the miles creep by with excruciating slowness.
Because the road was completely empty as far as the eye could see, Sean made a U-turn, cutting across the weed-infested median. The moment he turned into the rest area, Charlie raced for the door. Both Lily and Sean yelled at her, but she shoved the door open at the exact moment the RV stopped moving.
Cameron leaped out after her, as protective as any adult. Sean grabbed the baby and they all filed out to find Charlie in the grassy picnic area, pointing excitedly to a hand-lettered sign swinging from a table.
“See?” she said. “See? I knew this was what I saw. It says Free to a Good Home, and that means we get to keep him.”
“Keep what?” Cameron said.
“For a kid who can’t read, she sure read that sign quickly enough,” Sean murmured.
At the base of the picnic table was an aluminum roasting pan filled with dirty water and a twenty-five-pound sack of Ol’ Roy dog food, half spilled in the grass and crawling with red ants.
“Perhaps someone else picked him up,” Lily suggested, relieved to find no sign of life. The last thing they needed was a lost animal.
“No, someone’s here, I saw when we drove past,” Charlie insisted. She walked around the area. “Hello!” she called. “Is anybody there?”
A half-grown boy with lanky limbs and a mournful expression appeared beyond the boundary of the rest area, at the top of a bank sloping down to a stream. He was joined by an equally lanky brother who was perhaps a year younger. Finally, a streak of black-and-white flashed by—a dog, scampering up the bank.
“See?” said Charlie. “See? Here, doggy,” she called, clapping and making smooching sounds with her mouth. “Here, doggy.”
The animal darted back and forth, a bundle of energy. Ashley laughed with delight and babbled at the dog. Cameron hung back, though Lily could tell he was intrigued.
“Are you giving that dog away?” Charlie asked, wide-eyed.
“Have to,” said the older boy. “Our dog had puppies, and Dad said we can’t keep them.”
Lily cleared her throat. “Charlie, we really should go.”
“Hang on,” murmured Sean, putting his free hand on her arm and offering that easy grin, which made Lily think about that wild night of kisses. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking about that night.
“Is he friendly?” Charlie asked. “Can I pet him?”
“Her,” the younger boy corrected. “She’s six months old and real smart. Housebroken, too, and crate-trained, but our dad said not to bring her home tonight.”