At first, it seemed like just a pleasant drive. They passed her old school, and he slowed a bit to view it. Neither of them spoke, and after awhile, Rainbird turned on the radio, avoiding news stations and settling for oldies. Lauren didn't object. Her musical tastes were eclectic.
They moved onto the Beltway, and Lauren absently watched the road signs. She sat up straighter, however, when they bypassed the entranceway to I-95. Then it occurred to her to wonder...
"Where are we going?"
He turned to her with a small smile. "Where the scenery's good. How much of this region have you seen?"
"Some, but it's been awhile since I did any sightseeing. And I haven't had a vacation with my parents in years."
"Have you ever gone camping?"
"A million years ago, with the Girl Scouts."
"Did you enjoy it?"
"I don't remember...are we going to camp out?"
"If you don't have any objection."
"No," she said. That was the extent of their conversation for a long while.
They headed west, and then southwest. Traffic was light, the morning sun moderate. They traversed the state in an hour or two and were approaching White Sulphur Springs when the weather began to change. Clouds increased, and occasional sprays of rain dotted the windshield. Lauren had little to do, and caught herself dozing. She attempted to remain alert, looking around the interior of the truck. She noticed the ashtray in the dashboard. It was empty and looked very clean. That made her think of John's smoking...and the taste of his mouth on hers. She looked at the gold band on her finger. For some reason, that reminded her of her stricken parents, frozen in the corner of the dining room, while she recited marriage vows. Hold on, she thought.
What is this? What am I doing? Is this some kind of joke? I don't think I'm dreaming after all.
Rainbird glanced at her, preparing to ask if she felt like stopping for breakfast. Something in her face cautioned him. When their eyes met, he saw a hint of fear and distrust.
Keeping his voice neutral, he said "You haven't eaten a thing. Why don't we stop awhile?"
She nodded. He pulled in at a full-service rest stop, under a large, shady tree. She saw a large, covered picnic area, clean and empty.
"Okay to eat out here?"
She nodded again.
"How hungry are you?"
She shrugged, unable to process the question.
"Oh, I think your appetite will pick up. Go on, freshen up if you like, and I'll meet you out here."
Still in passive mode, she headed for the comfort stations like a sleepwalker.
Rainbird watched her go, as he walked toward the little diner. He suspected that she was starting to really think about what had happened that morning, and before long, she'd be in a panic. He couldn't blame her. She was a smart girl, and here he was treating her like the heroine in a silent movie. Spiriting her away from her home and family with no explanation.
But it was too soon to come clean with her. If he did that, she might insist that he take her home, and the whole plan would crumble. Not only would he be deprived of her company, but if she had contact with the Conroys, she'd have to wrestle with her sense of loyalty to them. The last thing he wanted was Lauren letting herself be deported to Cuba. No-that was completely unacceptable.
They would be camping in the Smokies tonight, an obscure little site he liked, just north of the Georgia state line. He had no specific plans for the two of them, but knew that if she were still in a resistant state of mind tomorrow, it would be too late. The Conroys would be long gone, even if she bolted and made it all the way back to Alexandria.
He thought that if they could make it through to tomorrow morning without incident, she might be more accepting of the situation. They didn't have to consummate the marriage just yet. He really preferred to have that happen in Arizona, at the house. But if necessary, he thought he could sway her in that direction, and then use it to his advantage. It all depended upon her.
For now, the priority was keeping her docile until they got to the campsite-- by then it would be dark. For that, he had come prepared.
Lauren stood alone in the ladies' washroom, shivering slightly in the damp morning cold. All was very still outside, except for the occasional sound of a car passing on the highway. She studied her reflection in the mirror over the sink. The dress still looked good, as did her hair and makeup. She kept staring at herself, trying to get her thoughts in order.
What had happened this morning? It had gone by so quickly, and made no sense. Her mother had gotten her out of bed, invited her downstairs; she had apparently married John Rainbird, and now they were out on the road, preparing to get breakfast.
Her parents...why had they agreed to this?
She knew it must have something to do with The Shop. What other explanation was there? But given how little information she'd been given about her father's work, it was very difficult to reach any conclusions. And her mother...how did she fit into this?
Perhaps...perhaps her mother was sick. She recalled the uncharacteristic emotional outbursts of the past weeks. Maybe her mother had cancer, needed some drastic treatment, and felt she couldn't take care of Lauren any more. Of course. That must be it. No wonder her mother had reacted so irrationally when she'd made that tactless comment about menopause.
But I'm eighteen, she argued with herself. If I were eight, maybe. But I don't need to be "taken care of." Just the thought that she'd been passed to Rainbird for safekeeping sparked a moment of keen resentment. If her mother were sick, her father would need all the help he could get coping with the situation. If that were the case, Lauren belonged at home.
And John. Was he friend or foe? This had to have been his idea, somehow. She could not possibly imagine her father initiating a marriage to this man he so obviously disliked.
Try as she might, she could not make sense of it. She sighed and made her way out of the restroom. She lifted her eyes, and on the plain board ceiling of the entryway, she saw a small colony of bats roosting in a dark corner. They didn't scare her, but more than anything, this touch of the absurd helped convince her she wasn't dreaming. She spent another minute studying the sleeping bats, then thought it might be better to get back outside. She was finally starting to get hungry.
A quick glance showed John setting up at one of the picnic tables. As she approached, she wondered how much he knew, and how much she could ask. She'd never felt any fear of him before. She'd always thought they had a nice friendship going. So why should she be shy now?
"Do you think this will be enough?" he asked, indicating a fairly large selection of fruit, a buttered bagel, a container of yogurt and a large orange juice, already poured. She had to smile. He'd brought her more food than he'd gotten for himself-all he had was a sausage biscuit and coffee.
"It's fine, thanks," she said, sitting across from him. She took a bite of the bagel and suddenly felt quite hungry. The orange juice was fresh-squeezed and she held herself back from chugging it. By the time her appetite abated, everything was finished but a few pieces of fruit. She rinsed out the empty yogurt container at an outside faucet and used it to store the leftovers. John neatened up the table.
"All right if we walk a bit?" he asked. She nodded, and they strolled around the perimeter of the rest area. There were still only a few travelers here, and the weather continued looking undecided.
"Where are we going to camp out?" she asked, and he told her, since it would make no difference if she knew the location.
"And then Arizona?"
"Yes. I think you'll like the house." He was encouraged by her look of interest.
They had come nearly full circle around the facility. At the entrance to the restroom, she showed him the bats she'd seen. John took note of her enthusiasm and felt himself respond with affection...and the beginnings of something else. He pushed the feeling aside, content with the awareness that despite her doubts, she still enjoyed his company. That counted for a great deal.
She followed him willingly back to the truck.
"You know," she said, "I can share the driving, if you like."
"Great," he said. "I'll let you know if I get tired."
Rainbird drove the truck out of the rest area, back onto the Interstate, and continued on the meandering westward course. As they traversed West Virginia, Rainbird made small talk, but kept it very light. Lauren wasn't chatty as she'd been on their one date, but neither was she silent. However, before they crossed over into Kentucky, he glanced over and saw her head lolling gently. The light sedative he'd slipped into her orange juice had taken effect.
Good. Rainbird turned up the radio volume slightly and hit the gas. On the map, it didn't look like a long journey, but this interstate ramble amounted to more than 600 miles, and the day was waning. It had been a long day; Rainbird had been unable to sleep the night before. Even if they got an early start tomorrow, they'd still have to spend one more night on the road before arriving home. The weather complicated things by changing its mind every 50 miles or so.
He was grateful to arrive at the site shortly before midnight. He'd had to detour. The road he remembered had been rerouted as improvements were made in the national parks. He'd worried that his favorite spot would be overrun with trailers...but it was as remote and desolate as he recalled. Lightning and thunder echoed far off, then closer by, but he had camped here before and knew how sheltered it was. As Lauren slept, he hauled a lightweight but sturdy tent from the back of the SUV and set it up efficiently. He then built a fire, having foreseen possible rain and packed a bundle of wood in the truck.
It was time to disturb Lauren. He opened the passenger door softly and undid the seat belt. He assisted her from the truck, noticing how her face and hair subtly glowed in the firelight. As he'd hoped, she was not alert enough to ask a lot of questions, only to walk on her own. The campsite had a privy; it was disused but clean. He showed her where it was and waited for her to return.
They moved onto the Beltway, and Lauren absently watched the road signs. She sat up straighter, however, when they bypassed the entranceway to I-95. Then it occurred to her to wonder...
"Where are we going?"
He turned to her with a small smile. "Where the scenery's good. How much of this region have you seen?"
"Some, but it's been awhile since I did any sightseeing. And I haven't had a vacation with my parents in years."
"Have you ever gone camping?"
"A million years ago, with the Girl Scouts."
"Did you enjoy it?"
"I don't remember...are we going to camp out?"
"If you don't have any objection."
"No," she said. That was the extent of their conversation for a long while.
They headed west, and then southwest. Traffic was light, the morning sun moderate. They traversed the state in an hour or two and were approaching White Sulphur Springs when the weather began to change. Clouds increased, and occasional sprays of rain dotted the windshield. Lauren had little to do, and caught herself dozing. She attempted to remain alert, looking around the interior of the truck. She noticed the ashtray in the dashboard. It was empty and looked very clean. That made her think of John's smoking...and the taste of his mouth on hers. She looked at the gold band on her finger. For some reason, that reminded her of her stricken parents, frozen in the corner of the dining room, while she recited marriage vows. Hold on, she thought.
What is this? What am I doing? Is this some kind of joke? I don't think I'm dreaming after all.
Rainbird glanced at her, preparing to ask if she felt like stopping for breakfast. Something in her face cautioned him. When their eyes met, he saw a hint of fear and distrust.
Keeping his voice neutral, he said "You haven't eaten a thing. Why don't we stop awhile?"
She nodded. He pulled in at a full-service rest stop, under a large, shady tree. She saw a large, covered picnic area, clean and empty.
"Okay to eat out here?"
She nodded again.
"How hungry are you?"
She shrugged, unable to process the question.
"Oh, I think your appetite will pick up. Go on, freshen up if you like, and I'll meet you out here."
Still in passive mode, she headed for the comfort stations like a sleepwalker.
Rainbird watched her go, as he walked toward the little diner. He suspected that she was starting to really think about what had happened that morning, and before long, she'd be in a panic. He couldn't blame her. She was a smart girl, and here he was treating her like the heroine in a silent movie. Spiriting her away from her home and family with no explanation.
But it was too soon to come clean with her. If he did that, she might insist that he take her home, and the whole plan would crumble. Not only would he be deprived of her company, but if she had contact with the Conroys, she'd have to wrestle with her sense of loyalty to them. The last thing he wanted was Lauren letting herself be deported to Cuba. No-that was completely unacceptable.
They would be camping in the Smokies tonight, an obscure little site he liked, just north of the Georgia state line. He had no specific plans for the two of them, but knew that if she were still in a resistant state of mind tomorrow, it would be too late. The Conroys would be long gone, even if she bolted and made it all the way back to Alexandria.
He thought that if they could make it through to tomorrow morning without incident, she might be more accepting of the situation. They didn't have to consummate the marriage just yet. He really preferred to have that happen in Arizona, at the house. But if necessary, he thought he could sway her in that direction, and then use it to his advantage. It all depended upon her.
For now, the priority was keeping her docile until they got to the campsite-- by then it would be dark. For that, he had come prepared.
Lauren stood alone in the ladies' washroom, shivering slightly in the damp morning cold. All was very still outside, except for the occasional sound of a car passing on the highway. She studied her reflection in the mirror over the sink. The dress still looked good, as did her hair and makeup. She kept staring at herself, trying to get her thoughts in order.
What had happened this morning? It had gone by so quickly, and made no sense. Her mother had gotten her out of bed, invited her downstairs; she had apparently married John Rainbird, and now they were out on the road, preparing to get breakfast.
Her parents...why had they agreed to this?
She knew it must have something to do with The Shop. What other explanation was there? But given how little information she'd been given about her father's work, it was very difficult to reach any conclusions. And her mother...how did she fit into this?
Perhaps...perhaps her mother was sick. She recalled the uncharacteristic emotional outbursts of the past weeks. Maybe her mother had cancer, needed some drastic treatment, and felt she couldn't take care of Lauren any more. Of course. That must be it. No wonder her mother had reacted so irrationally when she'd made that tactless comment about menopause.
But I'm eighteen, she argued with herself. If I were eight, maybe. But I don't need to be "taken care of." Just the thought that she'd been passed to Rainbird for safekeeping sparked a moment of keen resentment. If her mother were sick, her father would need all the help he could get coping with the situation. If that were the case, Lauren belonged at home.
And John. Was he friend or foe? This had to have been his idea, somehow. She could not possibly imagine her father initiating a marriage to this man he so obviously disliked.
Try as she might, she could not make sense of it. She sighed and made her way out of the restroom. She lifted her eyes, and on the plain board ceiling of the entryway, she saw a small colony of bats roosting in a dark corner. They didn't scare her, but more than anything, this touch of the absurd helped convince her she wasn't dreaming. She spent another minute studying the sleeping bats, then thought it might be better to get back outside. She was finally starting to get hungry.
A quick glance showed John setting up at one of the picnic tables. As she approached, she wondered how much he knew, and how much she could ask. She'd never felt any fear of him before. She'd always thought they had a nice friendship going. So why should she be shy now?
"Do you think this will be enough?" he asked, indicating a fairly large selection of fruit, a buttered bagel, a container of yogurt and a large orange juice, already poured. She had to smile. He'd brought her more food than he'd gotten for himself-all he had was a sausage biscuit and coffee.
"It's fine, thanks," she said, sitting across from him. She took a bite of the bagel and suddenly felt quite hungry. The orange juice was fresh-squeezed and she held herself back from chugging it. By the time her appetite abated, everything was finished but a few pieces of fruit. She rinsed out the empty yogurt container at an outside faucet and used it to store the leftovers. John neatened up the table.
"All right if we walk a bit?" he asked. She nodded, and they strolled around the perimeter of the rest area. There were still only a few travelers here, and the weather continued looking undecided.
"Where are we going to camp out?" she asked, and he told her, since it would make no difference if she knew the location.
"And then Arizona?"
"Yes. I think you'll like the house." He was encouraged by her look of interest.
They had come nearly full circle around the facility. At the entrance to the restroom, she showed him the bats she'd seen. John took note of her enthusiasm and felt himself respond with affection...and the beginnings of something else. He pushed the feeling aside, content with the awareness that despite her doubts, she still enjoyed his company. That counted for a great deal.
She followed him willingly back to the truck.
"You know," she said, "I can share the driving, if you like."
"Great," he said. "I'll let you know if I get tired."
Rainbird drove the truck out of the rest area, back onto the Interstate, and continued on the meandering westward course. As they traversed West Virginia, Rainbird made small talk, but kept it very light. Lauren wasn't chatty as she'd been on their one date, but neither was she silent. However, before they crossed over into Kentucky, he glanced over and saw her head lolling gently. The light sedative he'd slipped into her orange juice had taken effect.
Good. Rainbird turned up the radio volume slightly and hit the gas. On the map, it didn't look like a long journey, but this interstate ramble amounted to more than 600 miles, and the day was waning. It had been a long day; Rainbird had been unable to sleep the night before. Even if they got an early start tomorrow, they'd still have to spend one more night on the road before arriving home. The weather complicated things by changing its mind every 50 miles or so.
He was grateful to arrive at the site shortly before midnight. He'd had to detour. The road he remembered had been rerouted as improvements were made in the national parks. He'd worried that his favorite spot would be overrun with trailers...but it was as remote and desolate as he recalled. Lightning and thunder echoed far off, then closer by, but he had camped here before and knew how sheltered it was. As Lauren slept, he hauled a lightweight but sturdy tent from the back of the SUV and set it up efficiently. He then built a fire, having foreseen possible rain and packed a bundle of wood in the truck.
It was time to disturb Lauren. He opened the passenger door softly and undid the seat belt. He assisted her from the truck, noticing how her face and hair subtly glowed in the firelight. As he'd hoped, she was not alert enough to ask a lot of questions, only to walk on her own. The campsite had a privy; it was disused but clean. He showed her where it was and waited for her to return.
