cold and hungry that she just wanted to curl up and die.
Relief made her weak when she reached the door of the shelter. For a moment, she was afraid to walk in because if she was turned away she wasn’t sure she had the strength to walk back out again.
Closing her eyes and sucking in a deep breath, she put her hand out and pushed open the door.
She was immediately hit by a warm blast of air that felt so good that she went weak and nearly wilted on the spot. It hadn’t been this warm the last time she’d come. The heat hadn’t been working.
Inside, she could hear the sounds of the other women. They sounded almost . . . happy. And shelters weren’t generally happy places. Tantalizing aromas wafted through her nostrils. She inhaled and her stomach growled. Whatever they were eating smelled wonderful.
She took a hesitant step, allowing the door to close behind her. The warmth was so welcome that for the longest time she couldn’t move as feeling started to return to her hands and feet. It was welcome and very unwelcome all at the same time because with that feeling came pain.
“Bethany, is that you, dear?”
Bethany’s head popped up, her brow furrowing. She hadn’t ever given her name here, had she? She searched her memory but couldn’t place whether she’d ever told the volunteer anything.
But she nodded, not wanting to do anything to lessen her chances of being able to stay.
“What on earth happened?”
The volunteer gasped when she approached Bethany and Bethany winced at the woman’s expression.
“I’m okay,” Bethany said in a low voice. “I just fell. I was hoping . . .” Her throat threatened to close in on her. “I was hoping there was room for me tonight.” Even as she finished, she braced herself for rejection, unable to bear the thought.
“Of course there is, child. Come and sit down. I’ll get you a cup of hot cocoa and you can eat as soon as you warm up.”
Relief was staggering. It swept through her body, nearly toppling her where she stood. Bethany saw warmth and kindness in the woman’s eyes and she relaxed as euphoria set in. They had room for her tonight! She would have a warm place to sleep. And food! It was enough to make her want to weep.
She trudged after the volunteer and frowned as she took in the occupants. There seemed to be more women today than there had been the last time Bethany had come seeking shelter. And there hadn’t been room for her then. Had they expanded? Gotten more beds?
“I’m Kate,” the woman said just as she stopped by a chair pulled off to the side of the others. “Have a seat right here. I’ll get your cocoa and then we’ll work on getting you something to eat. You’ll need to have those cuts looked at.”
“Thank you, Kate,” Bethany said huskily. “I really appreciate this.”
Kate urged her down and then patted her on the hand. “I’ll be right back. Everything is going to be all right, honey.”
Perplexed by the strange promise, Bethany sank into the chair and promptly sagged, all her strength gone. Her hands shook and she curled them into her thin shirt, trying to warm them faster. The cuts stung but they weren’t serious.
Her gaze found Kate as she bustled around the kitchenette preparing the cocoa. She was on her cell phone and it was obvious that whatever she was talking about was urgent. After a moment, she shoved the phone back into her pocket and took a cup from the microwave. After stirring, she brought the steaming mug over to where Bethany sat, and gently placed it in her hands.
“Here you are, dear. Sip it. It’s hot. Everything is going to be all right now. I don’t want you to worry.”
It was the second time she’d offered the blind assurance to Bethany but Bethany was too tired to dig any deeper. If she weren’t so hungry and cold she’d just curl up in one of the cots and sleep for the next twenty-four hours. Or whenever they kicked her out again.
• • •
Jace sat in his office staring broodingly at the pile of documents in front of him. It had been two fucking weeks since Bethany had slipped away and he was no closer to finding her now than he had been that first morning. It was not for lack of trying on his part.
Work was suffering. Most of the employees avoided him.