That man was allergic to fun, and he seemed to resent every instance that she’d managed to draw out a smile or a laugh.Of course, he’d eventually earned that resentment.
Nope.Not going there.
She refocused her attention on the landscape around her, the chirping crickets.She stopped to watch a small brownish-gray bird with a rust-colored chest hop along the ground and then dart beneath a bush.Henri had been helping keep her brain busy by teaching her the birds and plants of the Bouches-du-Rhône.If she remembered right, this little guy, smaller than her hand, was a European Robin.
Aaannd she had officially turned into her grandfather.Next thing, she’d be taking trips all over the world looking for “life birds”—species seen for the first time in one’s life—and discussing the merits of different spotting scope magnifications.Not a bad way to spend time, but definitely not her usual speed.
At home in LA, she slowed down to enjoy nature by walking on the beach in Santa Monica or Malibu, or hiking in the hills.But those were brief interludes, never far from home and work and friends.She hadn’t been this isolated in…ever.Not only from people, but from the world, from the job that gave her a sense of purpose andcontrol.Work gave her a place to channel her anger and frustration and, frankly, fear.
As much as she wanted to blame Ford for her current situation, he’d been reacting to the men who’d come after her at the hospital.Her ire was primarily directed at whoever apparently wanted her dead, but she was still pissed at Ford.
She’d spent the last two weeks and two days—you bet your ass she was counting—waiting for some word from him, and…nada.A small part of her worried that something might’ve happened to him, but she had no room for more things to fret over, and she couldn’t bear even thinking about the possibility.Besides, she knew him pretty well.In his mind, he was probably protecting her and Henri by keeping his distance.His damned sense of honor wouldn’t allow him to do otherwise.It was a quality she both hated and respected.
But he’d also taken away her agency.He may have made the decision to kill her off, but she should get to deal with the aftermath in her own way.Instead, she was stuck on this farm until she healed enough to walk however-many miles to the nearest town.That, or managed to steal the phone or car keys from Henri.
Despite what Ford might think, she wasn’t without a sense of self-preservation.She wouldn’t run off half-cocked and get herself caught, but she needed to get the hell out of here.Honestly, at this point, she’d probably weep with joy if someone gave her a current newspaper, but Henri—her own friendly dictator—had refused even that small connection to the outside.The man was paranoid with a capital P.In that, he and Ford were a lot alike.For good reason, but for fuck’s sake.
Sweat trickled down her back, and she could feel her energy flagging.She took a swig of water from the aluminum bottle she carried and turned back toward the farmhouse.When the land sloped downward, the quaint stucco building with its red tile roof appeared, looking deceptively close.
Her heart gave a kick at the sight of a dark-haired man who looked a lot like Ford standing in the center of the shady patio.
Henri had worn a thunderous expression when Ford stepped out of his rented Peugeot on the gravel drive.After spending hours under the steady blast of air conditioning, the hot air had been a shock.“I’m sorry I couldn’t let you know I was coming.”Ford said in French, opening the passenger door so Blitz could jump down.
She shook her body in a little ripple from head to tail and bounded over to the grass to relieve herself.Ford stretched his arms overhead, his whole body stiff from sitting for too long.
“What are you doing here?”Henri asked in English, eyeing the dog warily.
Startled, Ford switched languages as he grabbed his bag from the rear of the car, and called Blitz to his side.“The situation has changed.”He followed Henri into the house and stopped in the doorway of the main room.Theemptymain room.His pulse lurched.“Where’s Natalie?”
“Walking in the garden.”
Ford slowly let out a relieved breath, even as he worried about her overexerting herself.“She’s doing well?”
Henri nodded.“Very well.I removed the stitches yesterday and her wound is healing nicely.She’s been good about doing her physiotherapy, and she’s quickly regaining her cardiovascular conditioning.I think she’ll be able to stop wearing the sling soon.”The older man put his hands on his hips.“Why are you here?We have gone more than two weeks without word from you, and then you show up on our doorstep unannounced.With yourdog.What is happening?”
Ourdoorstep?Sounded like Henri and his charge were getting along okay.That eased a little of Ford’s guilt at dumping her here.“I owe you an explanation, but can I use the toilet first, please?”
He’d swept the rental car for trackers and bugs, and taken a ridiculously long surveillance detection route—SDR—out of Geneva, only stopping once in his impatience to get here.Now, though, he had to pee like a motherfucker.At the older man’s nod, Ford commanded Blitz to lie down next to the sofa, and hightailed it to the bathroom.
After using the facilities, he splashed water on his face and used a fresh towel from the shelf to dry off.Feeling slightly revived, he returned to the main room to find Henri setting out a bowl of water for Blitz.The old man might act like a grump, but he was a softie on the inside.Just hurting.Ford needed to remember that.
“Where were you?”Henri asked.
Ford wanted to hold off and tell the story to him and Natalie at the same time, but he couldn’t expect the man to wait.Sighing, he said, “They arrested me for your murder.”
Henri’s jaw slackened.“Merde.” He pressed a hand to his brow and closed his eyes briefly before looking at Ford again.“I am sorry.You have sacrificed much for me.”
“It’ll be worth it to take down Deschamps.”Ford truly believed that.“And I’m fine now.They had to drop the charges.”
“He will keep trying.”
Ford nodded.“He will.”Losing patience, he asked, “Natalie’s out back?”
“Oui.” Henri checked the clock on the wall.Seven-fifteen.“She should be back soon.”
“I’ll go find her.”He signaled to the dog, who rose and followed him out the back door.They emerged onto a lush patio surrounded by potted flowers and blooming bushes that were probably home to plenty of spiders.
He’d just stepped to the edge of the flagstones to scan the yard when Natalie appeared at the top of the slope, maybe a hundred yards away.His stomach flip-flopped, and Blitz gave a little yelp of excitement.“Stay,” he said, giving her the corresponding hand signal.He didn’t want her to knock down Natalie in her excitement.
