Backwards Honeymoon. Leigh Michaels
In a rush of gratitude, Kathryn said, “I’ll give you anything you want.”
“I’ll think it over and let you know. Come on.”
His loose-limbed stride ate up the ground; Kathryn had trouble keeping up with him as he plunged deeper into the woods which filled a good part of the Campbell estate.
“So where are you headed?” he asked over his shoulder.
“You don’t think I’d tell you, surely.”
“That probably means you don’t know.”
“No, it means I expect you’d turn around and sell the information to my father.”
“Sure I will. I’ll march right up to him and say, ‘Jock, old buddy, I can tell you where your daughter went, and I know because she confided in me while I was hoisting her over the wall.’ I’m sure he’d reward me, probably right after he slugged me in the face.”
“What about the key? I thought that meant there was a door or something.”
“You don’t think I’d tell him all my secrets, do you? He’d have it sealed up in a minute, and who knows—I might want it again someday.”
“Thinking of moving back in with your father, are you?” she asked sweetly.
“It wouldn’t be my first choice, but you never know what might come up.” He stopped abruptly. “Here.”
Kathryn could see the vine-shrouded wall beyond the last row of trees, but she couldn’t see anything that resembled a gate or a door. “Where?”
“Good disguise, isn’t it?” he said cheerfully. “The vines were here when I found this place, but it took me a couple of years to train them just right so they’d hide the door without breaking when it was opened. Let’s see if they still do.” He pulled back a curtaining vine to reveal an arch-topped door built of heavy planks.
The key slid silently into place and the lock opened with a discreet click. On the other side of the thick wall hung another curtain of vines. Kathryn ducked underneath it and looked out across an expanse of pine woods that spread downhill as far as she could see, full of undergrowth and brambles. She looked uncertainly out across the dappled hillside. “Um…where am I?”
“Some Boy Scout you’d make. About five hundred yards through there is the state highway.”
She bit her lip. “I suppose once I get there I could hitchhike.”
“I’d suggest you hurry, or you’ll probably be trying to thumb a ride with some of your own wedding guests.”
She looked up at him through her lashes. “Maybe you should come with me.”
He said something under his breath. She was rather glad she hadn’t heard it clearly.
“Jonah…I mean, Mr. Clarke…you won’t ever be able to collect whatever I owe you for helping me escape, if you don’t know where I went.”
The silence stretched out endlessly.
“One thing’s certain,” he muttered. “It’s becoming obvious that I like pain. All right, I’m in for the adventure.”
She smiled in triumph. “Then let’s lock the gate and get going.”
Jonah shook his head. “Not so fast. I may be a masochist, but I’m not an idiot. I was checked into the estate on the guards’ list this morning. If I’m not checked out the same way, all hell will break loose and they’ll be looking for both of us.”
“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Along with half a million other things you haven’t considered, I’ll bet. Anyway, I don’t fancy being shot at by the FBI because they think I’m holding you hostage.”
“Why would they think that?”
“Did anyone see you leaving?”
She shook her head.
“Did you tell anybody you were going?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then they have no way of knowing if this stunt was your idea or someone else’s. Look, we haven’t got time to argue. You take off through the trees—just walk toward the sunset and you’ll come out near a little roadside park. I’m going to go back in, get my car, and leave just as I normally would. I’ll probably beat you to the park, but if I’m not there, hang around back in the trees till I show up.” He pulled the vines back and stepped into the wall.
“Jonah,” she said softly, and he turned. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me until we’ve gotten somewhere.” A moment later the door closed with a creak and he was gone.
Kathryn walked as fast as she could, aiming for the brilliant sliver which was all she could see of the sun. It seemed to be sinking faster than it ever had before. She didn’t want to think about what would happen if darkness fell while she was still in the woods. She didn’t think the small vial of pepper spray which she always carried in even the smallest handbag would be much help at all against a bear or a cougar or any of Minnesota’s other wildlife.
But before she realized that the pine woods had been gradually thinning, she stumbled out of the shadows and found herself at the edge of a park so tiny it was nothing more than a U-shaped lane with a picnic table and a garbage can. It wasn’t as late as she had feared; now that she was out of the woods she could see that the sun was only starting to drop below the horizon.
Parked in the lane was the old car Jonah Clarke had been working on in his father’s driveway, and Jonah was leaning over the picnic table with a map spread out in front of him. She saw that he’d stopped long enough to change his greasy T-shirt for a pullover that matched his eyes.
Kathryn almost ran the last few steps. “You’re a marvel! How did you know I’d come out exactly here?”
He looked up from the map. “Considering that it was you doing the navigating, it was nothing more than a lucky guess. I was starting to wonder if you’d had second thoughts and decided to just follow the wall around to the front gates instead.”
She shook her head firmly. “And leave you waiting here, wondering what happened to me?”
“It was a pleasant daydream, anyway,” Jonah mused. “Come on, let’s get going. Want a sandwich?”
“No, thank you—but if you have some water I wouldn’t turn it down.”
“In the car.”
She slid into the passenger seat and he handed her a bottle of spring water. She took a long, satisfying swallow.
He’d started the engine but made no move to put the car into gear.
“Where are we going?” Kathryn asked.
“Well, it sort of depends on what you want to accomplish. But since there’s nothing north of here but the Canadian border—”
“I have my passport,” she said brightly.
He stared at her. “You leave home with nothing except the clothes you’re wearing but you take a passport?”
“Well, not deliberately. I mean, I didn’t consciously think about leaving the country. But Douglas was going to take me to Bermuda for our honeymoon, so of course my passport was in my handbag.” She dangled the tiny purse in front of him and thought, I wonder how Douglas intended to pay for Bermuda. Or was he expecting that I would?
Jonah grunted. “Nevertheless, I think we’ll go south. It’s three hours to the Twin Cities, so you’ll have plenty of time to tell me what you’re planning to do.”
I’ll do that. Just as soon as I figure it out myself. “Three hours? It never takes me that long to get to the Cities.”
“That’s