She shuddered. “You.”
He laid Tot on the bed, stripped off the soiled diaper, and applied a new one, proud that it only required one readjustment to get it perfect. Kit reached in the bag and handed him a baby-sized hoodie.
“How about this? It’s getting colder in here.”
It took both of them to wrestle the kid into the garment. In a nifty side pocket of the duffel was a baby bottle and a bunch of powdered formula packets along with a single jug of distilled water.Thank you,God.He squinted. The printing was too tiny on the packet.
“Can you, uh, read this?”
Incredibly, she smirked. “My dad had to hold things far away when he hit a certain age too.”
He scowled. “I’m only forty.”
“Don’t worry. Forty is the new thirty.” She read theinstructions and even mixed the bottle for him after sanitizing her hands with a wipe, then continued her perusal of the duffel bag’s contents.
He settled into the chair with Tot on his lap. When he lifted the nipple to her lips, Tot latched on like a hungry bear. While she drank, he continued his examination of the sleeping area and noticed a small crate of books, a half-dozen volumes neatly secured with bungee cords.Volcanoes of the Pacific Rim. The LivingPlanet, the earthquakes and volcanoes edition.
“Bookworm?” He motioned to the crate with his chin.
“Just learning.”
“About volcanoes?”
“Sure. Don’t you want to know what’s unfolding around you?”
“Only in small doses.” He admired Tot’s robust guzzling. “Good thing she’s not picky about her beverage temperature. Do you want to take her now while she’s occupied?” But Kit’s attention was elsewhere.
“The bag,” she said.
“Uh-huh.” He was trying to recall the topography around them. If he couldn’t get a signal, he’d continue on to the truck, drive up a ways. A mile north in the direction of his cabin there was a granite peak, one of many in the foothills of Mount Ember, sprinkled all along the Cascade Range. If the seismic activity hadn’t destabilized it and he could make it to the top, or even halfway, he might get a signal. Call Gideon first? Sometimes it was easier to get an outside connection if the systems were overtaxed. That would leave Kit and the baby alone for a longer period. They should have a contingency plan, get some supplies together in casethey had to flee. A disaster in the making, but if Big Guns came back...
She spoke louder this time. “The duffel bag.”
His focus snapped back to her. “What about it?”
She was on one knee, peering at it. “It’s too heavy for a few baby supplies. I pack duffels all the time for multiple nights, and they never weigh this much.”
She pawed through the contents, burrowing past the tiny clothes, small Tupperware containers, and mini formula packets. When she pulled out a plastic-wrapped bundle, he let out a low whistle.
She stared.
He stared.
The baby sucked.
The fading sun illuminated the fat stacks of money gripped in Kit’s hands.
THREE
Kit’s palm was sweat-slickedas she removed the money from the duffel and set it on the floor. Three bundles altogether, neatly secured. She quickly counted one. Not new bills but plenty of them. She alternated between ogling the money and the baby madly sucking at her bottle, impossibly small on Cullen’s lap. Tot had flung out a fist to capture her foot as if she were responsible for keeping the toes attached to her body.
Ten thousand dollars, more or less. Kit was gnawing on her thumbnail, a habit she thought she’d conquered long ago. She checked the stacks again. It was still ten thousand dollars bound with rubber bands in the precise way she would have done if she’d ever possessed that much cash.
None of it made sense. If only the shrieking pain in her skull would let up so she could think. With as minimal movement as possible, she snagged a container of Tylenol from her first aid kit and swallowed several with the aid of a small container of orange juice she’d intended as a midafternoon pick-me-up.
Cullen still hadn’t said a word. When Tot’s milk washalfway gone, he expertly tipped the child upright and patted her back in one fluid movement. Kit wouldn’t have expected such proficient nurturing nor the warm feeling it gave her which she immediately checked. So he was good with infant care. So what? He was a stranger. Maybe he’d been the one to stow both the baby and money in her rig. She didn’t remember a thing. This might have all been one ill-executed plan by the guy humming softly across from her.
“Well?” she demanded, pointing to the bundled bills.
