Free The Long Road Home by H. D. Thomson Page A

dark and cool. That way we’ll miss most of the heat tomorrow.”
    “Can you make sure there’s two rooms available before you make the change?”
    “Sure.” He slammed shut the hood and threw her a cynical smile. “Last night a little too crowded for your taste?”
    She tensed at the memory of him waking her in the middle of the night. Her mouth twisted sardonically. “What do you think?”
    She turned her back and opened the door.
    “Clarisse?”
    She paused and met John’s questioning gaze.
    “About your leg.”
    Swallowing, Clarisse felt the color drain from her face. Dread slithered into the pit of her stomach. Oh, hell. He couldn’t have guessed. “What about it?” She waited, forcing the air in and out of her lungs, while John’s gaze probed her figure.
    “You’re limping. Your sprain must be still hurting.”
    She shrugged nonchalantly, striving to ignore the concern in his face. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” she lied.
    “I think you need to have a doctor check your ankle tomorrow.”
    “I—No. That’s fine.” The hell she would. “We don’t have the time.”
    “No, it’s not fine. If you’re still favoring that leg by tomorrow, I’ll drive you to a doctor’s office. A delay of a couple hours is nothing when someone’s health is at risk.”
    Bristling at his imperious tone, Clarisse clamped her mouth shut. She clambered into the back seat, muttering to herself, “Not if I can help it.” She slammed the door shut for emphasis.
    “So?” Vivian peered over the side of her bucket seat.
    “So what?”
    Vivian drew back and rolled her eyes. “Well, aren’t we in a snit.”
    “Like you can talk,” Clarisse snapped back and immediately regretted it. She might be angry, but it didn’t mean she had to lash out like Vivian. She hoped she had a little more tact and grace than the redhead. “Forget it. Just forget I said anything.”
    Clarisse plopped her head back and closed her eyes. Four more days, and she could put this hellish experience behind her.

CHAPTER SIX
    The sun’s rays stained the sky with shades of pink and orange by the time they drove into Oklahoma City and pulled into a white, one-story motel. Green awnings rested above each window, and the wood siding appeared freshly painted. Every twenty feet, nineteenth century replica gaslights illuminated the walkway parallel to the building, while large black shadowed dogwood and oak trees rustled above and around them.
    Weak and weary from the heat, a headache digging into the base of her skull, Clarisse stayed by the car with Vivian while John registered. They waited in silence, which she preferred. She had nothing to say to such a spiteful, vain woman. Maybe she was being a little too harsh in her judgment, but this trip had eradicated any patience she might have stored away.
    John came back to the car and jangled a set of keys in his hand. He flashed them a smile. “It looks like luck’s finally on our side. They have two rooms. Even better. They have a pool.”
    “It’s about time something good happened,” Vivian murmured through pursed lips.
    “Here. Catch.”
    Clarisse captured the keys he tossed. He then grabbed their bags from the Explorer and led the way down the walkway to a corner unit. He dropped Clarisse’s overnight case by the door.
    “Just call the night manager if you’ve a problem. And you might want a wake-up call. I plan on heading out of here by three.”
    “You can’t be serious,” Vivian snorted.
    Lips thinning, John cupped her elbow and steered her back down the walkway. “I’m dead serious.” He glanced over his shoulder. One ebony eyebrow rose. “Clarisse, you don’t have a problem with getting out of here at that time, do you?”
    The stubborn thrust of his jaw reminded her of how inflexible he could be if he set his mind to a task. He hadn’t changed.
    Her chin inched upward. Arguing was pointless, especially when it was imperative that they get to San Diego as quickly as