Far From Montana Page 8
He watched Alison when she wasn’t looking at him and enjoyed the pleasant, warm feeling just being close to her gave him. Staying with her was sounding more attractive to him all the time. Idly, he wondered what she would say if he asked her to marry him. Not that I’m really ready to settle down and get married, he thought, but Alison Blackfeather does have a nice ring to it.
“So, what do you plan to do once we get to San Antonio?” He asked, hoping he sounded neutral.
“I don’t know,” Alison said, the tension returning to her face. “I guess I’ll see if my friends will let me stay with them long enough to find a job and a place of my own.”
“Oh. You don’t sound too sure.”
“What about you, what do you plan to do?” she asked. He didn’t miss the fearful note in her voice.
“I thought I might hang around San Antonio for awhile. There are certain attractions I’d like to see.” He watched her from the corner of his eye. She went very still, her head bowed and her purse on her lap. He saw her fingers clench tightly around the strap.
“There are some nice things to see there.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“That’s what I hear.” Dell took a deep breath and let it out. His stomach fluttered, and he swallowed nervously. Alison hadn’t moved.
“Um, actually, I thought I’d go on to the Gulf and see the ocean,” he said. “I’ve never been to a beach.”
“The beach is nice.” Alison’s voice sounded fragile.
“The thing is, it won’t be any fun alone.” He looked over at her. “Alison, I’m not ready for this to end, I need you to come with me. Will you?”
She nodded and wiped the tears from her eyes. “Yes, I’ll come with you.”
Chapter Nineteen
Three loud bangs at the back of the truck were followed by a tremendous crack and the back window exploding into millions of tiny shards of glass. Alison screamed and raised her arms to cover her head. Dell swore and sped up.
“What the hell was that?” He yelled. He looked back in the rearview mirror to see a familiar small silver car following them. The car flashed its lights at them and began to pull over into the other lane. The morning sun glared off the windshield of the compact vehicle, obscuring the driver.
“I don’t know, but don’t stop,” Alison said.
“I’m not, hold on.” Dell floored the accelerator and watched the silver car fall back, its four-cylinder engine no match for his truck.
He kept his speed up until he was sure he’d left the strange vehicle behind. They were both covered in glass and shaken. Dell was angry. He saw a sign advertising gas and food and took the exit, heading down the two lane road that led to the little gas station and cafe.
“Baby, I’m getting really tired of this,” Dell said. He pulled off the road into the parking lot and stopped. Getting out of the truck, he left the door open and walked around to look at the back.
Three bullet holes marred the tailgate. Dell looked up to see Alison walking toward him. He pulled out the handkerchief he kept in his back pocket and motioned her over to him.
“You’re covered in glass.” He used the cloth to dust the glittering slivers off of her shoulders and back and out of her hair.
“So are you,” Alison said.
“I can wait. I want you to go inside and stay away from the windows.” Dell finished dusting her off.
“What are you going to do?” She asked, her voice full of concern.
“I don’t know yet. Come on, whoever shot at us will probably be by here in a few minutes, and I want you inside where it’s safer.” He turned her and gave her a nudge toward the door.
“Dell.” Alison stopped, refusing to go.
“Please, for me, baby,” Dell said softly.
She opened her mouth to argue, then shut it and nodded, hurrying inside. He followed her inside and stopped at the front cash register. The clerk looked at Alison, obviously noticing her bruises, and then eyed Dell coldly.
“Can you call the police? Somebody just shot at us back up the road.” Dell returned the man’s cold stare. The man looked at Alison, who was speaking to the lady at the small lunch counter, and back at Dell again.
“Yeah, sure, I’ll call them,” the man said, reaching for the phone beside the cash register.
“Car accident,” Dell answered the man’s unspoken accusation.
“Convenient,” the clerk retorted.
“No, damn scary. Look, you going to call or not? Whoever it was is driving a little silver car with black windows. They’ll probably be by here any minute now.” Something brushed Dell’s back, and he turned to find Alison dusting glass off him with an ancient dish towel.
“You need a new shirt—I’ll go get my purse,” she said.
“No! Stay here, I’ll get it.” Dell stepped around her and headed back out to the truck.
* * * *
Dell opened the passenger door and reached for Alison’s purse. At the sound of screeching tires, he jerked around. The driver’s side door of the little silver car flew open, and Dell’s stomach clenched as fear flooded through him.
Wilson leapt at him, Bowie knife raised. Dell dropped the purse and caught hold of Wilson’s arm. They struggled, Dell’s feet slipping on the oil-slick, hot asphalt.
The insane look in Wilson’s eyes sent a chill through Dell. He swore, remembering the Glock tucked under the driver’s side seat just out of reach. It took both hands to keep Wilson from plunging the hunting knife into him.
Wilson forced Dell back against the seat and inched the knife closer to his throat. “I’ll kill you, then I’ll kill her and everyone else inside,” Wilson ground out.
The sound of sirens in the background drew closer and gave Dell a burst of energy. “I don’t think so.” Dell kicked out and heard Wilson hiss when he connected with something. He hit Wilson’s arm against the truck until the knife clattered to the ground.
Shoving Wilson away, Dell made a dash for the gun under the seat. His hand closed around something smooth and cool just as Wilson tackled him again after recovering the knife. He elbowed Wilson and turned, realizing what he held in his hand. Alison’s little can of pepper spray.
He heard the police cars skidding to a stop and the shouts of the police officers. Ducking under Wilson’s outstretched arms, Dell slid down, banging his knee painfully on the curb. He turned as he fell, aiming the spray at Wilson and pressing the nozzle down.
The stream of burning chemical caught Wilson across the eyes and ran into the scrapes and cuts from the accident in the mountains. Blinded, Wilson screamed and slashed wildly, stumbling and tripping on the curb.
Dell heard the shouts of the police ordering Wilson to drop the knife and lie on the ground. Wilson made an inarticulate noise of pure rage and turned toward the officers. At the sound of gunfire, Dell hugged the asphalt, grateful for the shielding of the truck.
Wilson staggered back, catching his heel on Dell’s leg and falling over him. Dell rolled out of the way, the can of pepper spray ready. Wilson lay face down, unmoving. Slowly, Dell climbed to his feet as hands caught him and helped him stand. He looked around to see several police officers taking charge of the scene.
“You all right, man? What happened here?” An older, gray-haired officer asked him.
“Yeah.” Dell nodded and tried to catch his breath. “Yeah, I think so.” He winced, knowing he should take a look at his knee, but he couldn’t pull his eyes away from Wilson lying in a pool of blood. A policeman reached down and checked for a pulse.
A wave of relief mingled with a strange feeling of guilt washed through Dell when the officer looked up and shook his head slightly. He was grateful to see another officer go inside and lead an ashen-faced Alison away from the front of the little convenience store. The officer said something, and Dell saw her nod.
“Okay, you want to tell me about it?” The officer took out a small notepad.
“Yeah,” Dell said, and began to explain everything. He gave the officer
the card with Special Agent Davis’s phone number on it and sat down on the curb to wait. The officer walked off, and Dell watched the paramedics load Wilson’s body into the back of an ambulance. He felt a moment of sadness for Wilson’s family.
The gray-haired officer walked back toward him and held out the FBI card. “Your story checks out. As soon as we finish up, you and your girlfriend will be free to go.”
“Thanks. Is it all right if I go in and see how Alison is doing now?” Dell asked.
“Yeah, go ahead.” The officer walked off to supervise the tow truck picking up the car Wilson had stolen.
Dell got up and walked into the store. He stopped for a few seconds and just gazed at Alison. She picked up a mug, holding it with both hands, and brought it up to her lips, sipping at whatever was inside. The steam from the cup made the hair around her face curl.
She looked up, and their eyes met. She put the mug down and stood, walking toward him. He couldn’t move his feet; he felt like he might crack and shatter into millions of pieces.
She held out her arms, and he could see the tears spilling over and running down her face. He reached for her, folding her into his arms.
“It’s over,” Dell whispered.
* * * *
It was dark, and the road was deserted, except for the occasional truck. They passed rest stops full of eighteen-wheelers lit up like small towns. The glow from the city lights beckoned, promising rest and the beginning of a new life.
Dell checked them into the motel and came back to the truck. He started the engine and put it into drive, pulling around to the room he’d taken. Parking, he stopped to look at Alison for a moment. She returned his look, raising one eyebrow.
“I wonder if they have any of those crème-filled cookies in the vending machine.” He eyed her speculatively.
She smiled and got out of the truck, turning back to look at him before she shut the door. “Just how far did you read in that book Bear gave you?”
Dell shivered and jumped out of the truck, following her to the door of the room. He stopped her and just looked into her deep green eyes for a second before going inside.
“I love you, Alison Taylor.” He pulled her into a deep kiss and shut the door behind them.
The End
About the Author:
Penny Ash began writing seriously when she couldn't find the kind stories she wanted to read anywhere else. She brings a wealth of strange experiences to her work along with a deep interest in the paranormal. A big fan of Fantasy and Science Fiction as well as History and the world around her, she currently lives in the magical land of Texas where she spends her time writing, dabbling in computer graphics, and arguing with friends online.
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