Free Shelter Mountain by Robyn Carr

in the kitchen when she’d been helping John clean up, a stroke of luck. Up to that point, the best idea she could come up with was a book of matches to light the night while she dealt with thelicense plates. Once the plates were switched, she’d fetch the suitcase, then Chris. She took a butter knife from the drawer and slipped quietly out the back kitchen door.
    Once behind the bar, she was relieved to see no lights on in John’s little apartment. She crouched to the task of removing her plates, easily done even though her hands were shaking. Then she got to work on John’s, taking the license plate off his truck and replacing it with hers. Then back to the Honda, bending down to fix the new plate in place.
    “Getting back on the road again, Paige?” Preacher asked.
    She jumped, dropped the plate, flashlight and knife, straightening, her breath cut off and her heart hammering. The flashlight lit a path along the ground that illuminated his feet. Then he took a couple of steps toward her and came into complete view.
    “That isn’t going to do the trick,” he said, nodding toward her car. “They’re truck plates, Paige. Anyone, like the sheriff or CHP sees your little car with truck plates—they’re gonna know right off.”
    She felt her eyes well up with tears. Something like that would never have occurred to her. She shivered in the cold night, her hands shaking worse. Inside, her stomach was gripped in a tight, hard knot.
    “Don’t panic,” he said. “I don’t think you need different plates, not yet, but we can get it done. Connie’s got a little car right across the street. She’d never miss ’em.”
    A tear rolled down her cheek and she stooped to pick up the flashlight. “I…Ah…I left some money. Upstairs. For the room. The food. Not much, but…”
    “Aw, Paige. You do something like that, it makes me look so bad. You gotta know I never thought about money.”
    She hiccuped tears back and said, “What did you think about?”
    “Come on,” he said, reaching a hand out toward her.“It’s cold out here. Come back inside, I’ll make you some coffee so you don’t fall asleep on the road, then I’ll switch the plates for you. If that’ll make you feel safer on the drive, even if you don’t really need ’em.”
    She stayed out of his reach, but walked alongside. “Why do you say that? That I don’t need them?”
    “No one’s looking for you,” he said. “At least not officially. You’re still okay.”
    “How do you know that?” she asked, ready to fall apart and sink into helpless sobs.
    “I’ll explain,” he said. “I’ll throw a log on the fire, get you warmed up and we’ll talk. Then I’ll switch the plates for you if you want. But after we talk about it, you’ll probably want to go back upstairs and sleep till morning, drive in daylight. Besides,” he said, holding open the back kitchen door for her, “I got the bear. I’ll get it for you—you can’t leave without the bear.”
    She started to cry as she walked into the kitchen, pressing her fingers against her lips. She felt like a caught felon. It made her feel even worse that he was being so nice to her. “I looked everywhere for that damn bear,” she said softly with a whimper.
    Preacher turned toward her. Hand pressed against her mouth, eyes overflowing, she seemed to jerk with the effort not to add sound to her crying. Then slowly and carefully, he pulled her by her shoulders toward him, against his big chest, gently circling her with his arms. And she collapsed from inside, sobbing against him. No holding back the sound now, she was racked with tears. “Aw, you been holding that in too long, haven’t you? I been there, all right. It’s okay, Paige. I know you’re scared and worried, but it’s going to be okay.”
    She doubted it, but she was helpless in the moment. All she could do was cry and shake her head. She tried to remember when someone had pulled her sweetly intostrong arms and tried to make