Chapter Six
King
Sonia was standing in the kitchen boiling the kettle for a cup of her favorite herbal tea, telling herself she wasn’t grateful to Callum for making certain it was stocked. But she was grateful. She drank that tea all the time. She didn’t know what she’d do without it.
This was after an afternoon spent gazing in the fire and plotting her escape.
She did this while listening to him talk on the phone seventeen times. She’d counted. There was nothing better to do, except plot her escape, of course.
Either he was a really good actor, this was a more elaborate pretence than she imagined or he did, indeed, have “men”. At least three of them that she could count. One named Ryon, one named Caleb and one named Calder and all of them reported in frequently on a variety of what sounded like war-like subjects that included Callum giving a variety of leader-of-the-gang-like orders.
He also spent a good deal of time on his computer.
Luckily, the rest of the time he left her alone so she could plot her escape.
And plot she did.
She didn’t have any shoes but she did have a bunch of socks and he had several pairs of boots.
Okay, so his feet were large like his hands.
But if she put enough socks on, maybe she could keep his boots on her feet long enough for her to get away.
And get away she was going to do. It had been thirty-one years since she wandered this forest with her father but when she was a kid she wandered with him all the time and she had a good memory. Her father loved being out of doors, especially at night, and he took Sonia with him.
The animals weren’t only unafraid of her. Her father, too, had that particular gift. They saw wildlife in the moonlight with their night vision (her father had that too) and she remembered, quite keenly, that those times were magical.
She also remembered a cave not too far away that her father had shown her.
Not only shelter but she would imagine that Callum would guess she’d seek assistance, not shelter herself in a cave until the coast was clear.
She could take a blanket, wrap up some food and she would go, hang out there until the weather cleared and then move out, find someone and report her kidnapping.
If it kept snowing, her footprints would be covered in minutes.
Further, she had better hearing, eyesight and smell than Callum. She’d be able to sense him if he came after her.
He was, it came to her too late after all that had happened that morning, that presence she’d sensed last night, the alluring one as, obviously, the cosmos could play a pretty mean joke. She’d noticed it (and it broke her heart) the instant he walked in from finishing with the logs and it had invaded the house when she opened his bag and put away his clothes.
If he came after her, got anywhere near her, she’d know it.
Once she got her medication, she hoped it didn’t quit snowing. Then she could get away from that scary, bossy (but handsome) jerk.
They’d had dinner and she’d made a big one. Steak, baked potatoes (with butter and sour cream, her h*ps were never going to forgive her), veggies and rolls. She didn’t want to give him reason to pin her against the counter or do anything else that set her teeth on edge and made her want to scratch his eyes out. And she told herself the meal wasn’t absolutely delicious (when it was).
Now she was going to have tea, examine the cupboards to plan what to take with her, pray that his “man” could get through the thick blanket of snow that was still falling and then she was going to call it a night.
Through the whistle of the kettle, she sensed it.
Someone was coming.
She didn’t make a move or give any indication that she felt anything.
But she knew they were coming.
Oh my God! I hope it’s park rangers, she thought.
“Wait here,” Callum ordered and her head snapped up.