Road Tripping (21 page)

They’d delayed
yesterday, and she didn’t think it was a mistake. But it would be pretty stupid
to keep stopping to have sex, when there were bad guys after them and they were
finally almost to Sioux Falls.

She was going
to be reasonable. She wasn’t a slave to her lust. It just wasn’t all that easy
to convince her body of this.

She kept
imagining various erotic scenes—some sweet, some quite dirty—but all of them involved
having orgasms, and the succession of fantasies had turned her on.

“What the hell
is wrong with you?” Ethan demanded at last, shocking her by speaking out of the
blue.

“What do you
mean?”

“Are you mad at
me?” he asked impatiently. “I’ve been racking my brain, and I can’t come up
with a single thing I might have done to make you angry.”

Startled into
looking at him, she asked, “Why would you think I was mad at you?”

“I know by now
how you are when you’re angry. You’ve been acting all fidgety and restless, as
if you’re dying to tell me off and barely holding it back. And your cheeks are
red, you’re breathing unevenly, and you haven’t said a word in over thirty
minutes.” Ethan raised his eyebrows and sneered at her. “If you have something
to say, come out and say it. Don’t just sit there and stew.”

Ashley choked a
little bit. “I’m not mad.”

“Like hell
you’re not. If you want to rant and rave at me, just get it over with. If not,
stop wiggling around and distracting me.”

Gaping at him, Ashley
felt a rush of anger sweep through her. She hadn’t been remotely mad before,
but after hearing such arrogance and presumption...“I’m allowed to wiggle,
without getting my head bit off. If I say I’m not angry, then I’m not angry. As
a matter of fact, I was just thinking about sex, but fortunately you showed
your true colors before I mentioned it.”

He jerked his
head to the side to peer at her. “You want to have sex?”

“Kind of,” Ashley
admitted. “Or I did a few minutes ago. But now I just want to wring your infuriating
neck.”

His eyes went
hot, but his face twisted slightly. “I guess we could—”

“No. Seriously.
This is not a good time. I’m not a slave to lust, you know.”

“You aren’t?”
His green eyes gleamed with a teasing heat. “Not even a little?”

“Maybe a
little. But we can make it to Sioux Falls this morning, so we should probably
just keep going until we do. Any sort of breaks don’t work out well for us.”

“Yeah.”

His face
changed, and she knew he had thought about what would happen when they finally
got to Sioux Falls. How much danger they might be in.

It was a
sobering thought, and it made her sober too. It was easy to get wrapped up in
her new feelings and experiences, and the intimacy she felt with Ethan, but
they wouldn’t be able to really enjoy it until they were genuinely safe again.

They weren’t
safe yet.

“We’ll stop for
gas, as soon as we find the right chain. Then it’s right to Sioux Falls.”
Ethan’s eyes were focused on the road, and his body was tense.

He was worried
now. She could see it in his body. It worried her too, making her forget the
desire she’d been feeling just minutes before.

After a few
minutes, Ethan evidently gave voice to what he’d been thinking because he said
without warning, “When we get to Sioux Falls, you have to do what I say.”

She twitched in
surprise. “What do mean?”

“I mean you
have to do what I say. Our lives might depend on it.”

She felt that
inchoate worry again—that he still didn’t understand he was bulldozing, that he
still didn’t understand why it was something she just couldn’t live with, no
matter how much she loved him.

She hated to
bring it up again, though. He would think she was being unreasonable and
demanding, and they really did have more important things to deal with first.  She
said carefully, “If our lives depend on it, I’m not going to start arguing with
you.”

“Okay. Good.”

He was still
tense, visibly working out a plan for how to deal with the impending crisis.

After a while,
she wondered if he knew she was still sitting beside him in the car.

***

They stopped to get gas shortly
after they reached I-29 north, when they found the right kind of gas station.

Ethan pumped
the gas while Ashley went to the bathroom, hauling her bag with her so she
could comb her hair and reapply deodorant, since she was feeling hot and kind
of icky from the humidity and all her worries.

She killed some
time in the quick shop until Ethan had gone to the restroom himself and then
reemerged. He had paid for the gas at the pump, but they bought some bottles of
water and a bag of pretzels. Paid for it with the credit card, of course.

They would
definitely have to pay back poor Miss Horner at the end of this.

Ashley was
about to follow Ethan out of the store when he stopped suddenly in front of
her. She almost ran into his back.

She was about
to ask politely what his problem was, but he grabbed her by the arm. “Police,”
he whispered.

She looked
through the glass wall of the store and saw that, indeed, two police cars had pulled
up behind the sex-mobile, and the officers had gotten out and were looking in
the windows.

“Little bastard
must have reported the car as stolen,” Ethan muttered.

Ashley didn’t
have to ask whom he was talking about. She was only surprised that the sleazy
little guy Ethan had won the car from had been smart enough to think of the idea.

“We need to get
away,” she hissed. “We’ll be arrested.”

“I know.” He
pulled her toward the back of the store. “I saw a back door down the hall with
the restrooms.”

She followed
him silently, and they were able to slip out the back before the cashier even
looked up from her magazine.

They hurried
through the grassy field behind the building until they were out of sight of
the gas station. “What are we going to do?” Ashley was out of breath, and her
mind was a whirl. “We have no car.”

“I know.” Ethan’s
face took on the intent look that showed he was coming up with a plan. “We’ll
just have to find another car to steal.”

Ashley looked
around them. “Where? There’s nothing but farms around here.”

After
hesitating momentarily, Ethan sighed. “Are you okay to walk for a while? Surely
we’ll come across a town or an available car to steal eventually. But we better
not go back to the gas station. Not with the cops there.”

“I can walk,”
she replied glumly, already feeling the sun beating down hotly on the top of
her head. “At least I’m not in those horrible sandals this time.”

“We’ll go
north. At least that way we’ll be making progress in the right direction.”

So they walked.
And they walked. And then they walked some more.

They walked
through fields. Down little gravel roads. Across farmland. They climbed over
fences. Hopped over streams. Were chased by an enthusiastic sheep dog. Came
across five farmhouses, eight barns, and six silos.

But not a
single car they could steal.

The only car
they saw was a pickup truck parked beside one of the farmhouses. They were
desperate enough by that point to take the risk, but the family the truck
belonged to was picnicking happily right beside it.

They walked for
about four hours. Then they took an hour’s break. Drank some of their water and
ate half of their pretzels. Ashley sort of passed out in a daze as she sprawled
on the grass with her head in Ethan’s lap.

Finally, they
got up and started walking some more. A few hours later, they still had found
no available cars to steal.

“This is like
hell!” Ethan bellowed out of the blue, at about six o’clock. “Nothing but farms
for the rest of eternity.”

“It’s not
hell,” Ashley said nastily. “It’s Iowa.”

“Surely we’ll
come across a town at some point,” Ethan groaned. She had rubbed sunblock on
his face several times that afternoon, but, even so, his nose was starting to
look a little pink.

“Don’t count on
it.” Ashley took a swig out of the third bottle of water. “I’m pretty hungry.
Can we stop for some more pretzels?”

Ethan relented,
and they sat down in the dirt beside a cornfield and feasted on pretzels.

The got up
eventually and kept walking. When the sun started to go down, Ashley was almost
ready to cry. She had been persevering all day, not complaining and managing to
keep up with Ethan’s stride. But she was honestly about to collapse.

They were
walking along a gravel drive that led through one of the farms, and they saw a
run-down barn in the distance. Ethan had been darting covert looks at Ashley’s
face. “We’ll have to stop for the night,” he said resignedly. “You can’t go on
much further.”

“I can too.” She
tried to keep the exhaustion from her face and voice. “Don’t stop on my
account.”

“Well, I’m
about to fall over. So can we please stop on my account?”

Ashley wasn’t
about to argue with that.

“Tomorrow
morning, we'll stop at the first house we see and ask for help, even if it puts
us at risk of being caught. But for tonight, let’s try that old barn over
there. It doesn’t look like it’s being used for much anymore.” Ethan put his
hand on the small of her back and propelled her forward once more.

Ashley made her
legs move. Stared at the ground passing below her. Counted her steps. Prayed
she wouldn’t trip on her own feet.

“You okay,
honey?” Ethan asked in a slightly anxious voice. He took her by the shoulders
and turned her to face him.

“Yes,” Ashley
lied, trying to smile at him. His face was blurry and wavering. “Why wouldn’t I
be?”

“Because you
almost ran into the barn.” Ethan nodded in the direction they’d been walking,
and Ashley turned to see the barn directly in front of them.

“Oh, good. Can
we sleep now, please?”

“Yes, we can
sleep.”

He pulled open
a creaky door. It was dim inside, but there was still enough light to see that
the barn was vacant except for empty stalls and old piles of hay.

“Too bad I
don’t have energy for a roll in the hay,” she mumbled.

Ethan chuckled.
“I don’t have energy either. Maybe tomorrow, unless we get attacked by a killer
cow or something equally frightening tonight.” As he talked, he wandered around
the empty barn, peering in corners and checking things out.

Ashley had
already dropped onto a pile of hay. Unfortunately, it was old and didn’t smell
very good. “Hay is really scratchy.”

Leaning over to
pick something up, Ethan said, “These look like old horse blankets. I don’t
know how clean they are, but they’ll be better than sleeping on scratchy hay.”
He brought them over to her and spread a couple out on Ashley’s chosen pile of
hay.

She tried
again, and the blankets helped a lot. Not with the smell, but at least with the
scratchiness. Ethan lowered himself beside her, so she rolled over to curl up
against him. “I’m going to sleep now,” she said, her voice muffled by his damp
T-shirt.

He always tried
to take care of her, even if he was a bulldozer. She loved him like crazy.

And it was the
end of the ninth day.

about
thirty miles outside of Sioux City, Iowa

Ashley was vaguely conscious of Ethan
getting up because the pile of hay shifted, and the side with which she’d been
snuggling into him suddenly became chilled. But she was too dead-tired to even
open her eyes, so instead she curled into a ball to warm herself and drifted
back into uneasy sleep.

Some time
later—she had no impression of how long it was—she felt the hay pile shift
again and Ethan’s hands uncurl her and pull her against him once more. Her body
automatically adjusted to fit against his snugly, even in semi-consciousness.

“Ashley,” Ethan
murmured. “We need to get going soon.” His hand was stroking her hair.

She grunted
what was supposed to be a response and buried her face in his rather dirty
shirt.

“I’m sorry,
honey,” he tried again. “But you need to wake up now.”

This time her
reply was more like a mumble, but it was still completely incoherent, even to
her.

Then she felt
his lips on her forehead, on her temple, on her cheek, on her lips. “Wake up,”
he whispered, between every kiss.

She was finally
able to construct real words. “I’m not Sleeping Beauty.”

Ethan chuckled,
“No argument here. This morning, a beauty you are not.”

She pulled away
from him abruptly at the sting of that remark, but the rapid movement was a
mistake. Every part of her body was stiff or sore, so she hurt with every
movement. “Thanks a lot.” It was the only response she could come up with in
her groggy state.

He grinned at
her endearingly.

She scowled
even more as she watched him. “You did that on purpose. You wanted to make me
mad enough to get up.”

“Did it work? There’s
a spigot outside the barn you can use to wash up a bit.”

She gave him a
dirty look—mostly on principle—and then tried to stand up, but all of her
muscles protested. She stifled a groan of pain and stretched to loosen herself
up.

“You all
right?” Ethan asked, watching her carefully.

“Of course.
Just stiff from our strange sleeping arrangements. I’ll be ready to go in a few
minutes.”

She wasn’t just
stiff. Her body hurt with every move she made.

Since it
wouldn’t do any good to complain, she found the spigot, splashed water on her
face, and tried to clean herself up as best she could. She applied some deodorant
and then went behind a convenient tree to relieve herself.

And that was
all the getting ready there was for her to do this morning. They didn’t even
have any more pretzels to eat.

She and Ethan
began walking in the same direction they’d been going the previous day. “We’ll
stop at the first house we see and ask for help,” Ethan said, after they’d been
walking for a few minutes. “We can’t do this another day.”

“I’m trying to
think of what we should do when we find a house.” She was walking slower today
by necessity, although she was trying to hide her soreness from Ethan. “If we
call the cops, we may end up in more trouble than we are now.”

“I know. I’ll
think of something.”

She paused to
rub one of her calves, which was hurting so much she wanted to wince at every
step. “I guess we could—”

“I said I’d
think of something. Keep walking.”

His words were
curt, matter-of-fact, certainly not intentionally mean. But they caused a jolt
of pain and fear to shoot through her chest anyway. “Don’t I get a say in what
we do?” she asked slowly, stopping in her tracks and staring at him. “Doesn’t
my opinion matter at all?”

“Not in this,”
he replied, looking at her impatiently. “Would you keep walking, Ashley? I need
to get you to food and transportation as quickly as possible.”

Her heart started
beating again, but only to drum painfully. “Can’t we at least talk about our
plans? I know you’re worried, but so am I. And these aren’t just your decisions
to make.”

Ethan gave her
another exasperated look and put her hand on his back to move her along. “I’m making
them anyway. You are in no shape to argue with me this morning. We’re hungry,
dirty, and stranded in the middle of nowhere. We don’t know where we’re going
or how far we are from the closest town. You didn’t have anything but pretzels
to eat yesterday, which is why you feel weak and light-headed, although you
refuse to admit it. And I know perfectly well that you’re in pain, although for
some reason you’re trying to hide that from me too. This isn’t a negotiation.
This isn’t a discussion. Now, start walking, or I’ll pick you up and carry
you.”

She stared at
him in astonishment.

His expression
changed to resigned impatience. “Just trust me, Ashley, and start walking.”

Trust him. He
wanted her to trust him. When he refused to trust her. When he still refused to
treat her like an equal partner.

The farmland
and vivid blue sky started to spin slowly around her, and her head throbbed
with a recognition that threatened to knock her out.

Ethan thought
he was the most capable of making good decisions. But, less than two years ago,
he’d gotten involved with criminals. He’d gotten Mark involved too. He’d gotten
both of them arrested, convicted, sentenced.

And the
criminals weren’t just harmless moonshiners. They were threatening to kill him
now. They were threatening to kill her too.

And he wanted
her to trust him. Without argument. Without negotiation.

Just trust him.
As if he had always been trustworthy.

As if she could
just be bulldozed along into a life she might not want.

And she could
suddenly picture a life with him, and it wasn’t the life she’d always wanted.

He would always
protect her, always take care of her. But he would also always make the
decisions. Until the person she might become was annihilated by his power and love
and care.

Ashley didn’t
move. She literally couldn’t breathe, couldn’t swallow, couldn’t blink. Just
stared at Ethan through blurry eyes.

Perhaps it
seemed an extreme and overly dramatic reaction to such a minor part of the
morning. But Ashley knew it.
Knew it
. Like she knew the lines of Ethan’s
face.

She was hit by
heavy waves of nausea, one right after the other. “Oh, God,” she groaned,
putting a hand to her stomach as she felt her belly start to churn.

Ethan had been
watching her in bewilderment for the minute it had taken her to come to these
realizations. “Baby, what’s wrong?” he asked in concern.

Everything was
wrong. And everything in her stomach was about to come up. “Oh no,” she
mumbled, as the horrible situation got suddenly, horribly worse.

But it was too
late now to stop it. She stared at Ethan for another moment—his so loved face
and body—and then she turned her back to him and sank to her knees on the
ground.

Her stomach
heaved. And so it wasn’t just shock and heartbreak. It was abject humiliation—because
now she was throwing up in front of Ethan. She gagged again, and this time the
force of it knocked her onto her hands.

She was on all
fours as she vomited into the grass. Unfortunately, she had very little in her
stomach, so they were mostly just ugly, painful dry heaves.

Finally, it
ended, and she slumped to the grass, sobbing. At some point during the retching
process, Ethan must have lowered himself to the ground beside her, and he must
have poured water from their bottle over one of the extra white T-shirts she
had in her bag. Because he was there now, pulling her head into his lap, and
wiping her face with the damp shirt.

“Oh, honey, why
didn’t you tell me you were sick?” he murmured, pushing the dirty strands of
hair away from her cheeks. “I wouldn’t have made you walk if I’d known you were
sick.”

“Not sick,” she
choked out through her burning throat. She was shaking uncontrollably and still
torn by strange, jerky sobs. “It’s awful.”

Ethan’s face
was almost contorted with concern. “What are you talking about? What’s so awful
it would have made you sick?”

“I don’t
know…if it’s going to work…between us.”

“Ashley, honey,
you’re sick. Delusional maybe. Of course it’s going to work. I’m never going to
let you go.”

She had to try
to pull herself together enough to explain this to Ethan “I don’t know. I just
don’t know. You always have to be in control. And I don’t know if I can trust
you.”

And this time Ethan
understood her because she felt him leave her. Not physically, of course. She
was still lying with her head in his lap. But she felt every muscle in his body
stiffen. She felt him withdrawing from her in a very real way.

It made her cry
again.

“Ashley.” His
voice was hard now. Distant. “Ashley, do you think you can walk? Or should I
carry you? We’ll talk about this later. You’re in no shape to make decisions
right now. I need to get you somewhere so you can recover.”

She let him
pull her to her feet, and somehow she made her feet move. She kept shaking, but
she was too weak to cry anymore. Ethan’s arm was around her, supporting her,
but it was purely functional. There was nothing resembling intimacy in his
touch.

In less than
ten minutes, they started to approach an old farmhouse. There were no cars
parked in the driveway, but some of the windows were open, and there was
laundry hanging out on the clothesline.

Without
consulting her, Ethan turned in the direction of the house and half-carried her
up to the front door.

An old lady
responded to his knock. She was white-haired, wrinkled, tiny, and had the
brightest blue eyes Ashley had ever seen. As soon as she swung the door open
and took in the sight before her, she said, “Oh, my dear Lord. You poor, poor
things. Did your car break down somewhere? Those miserable contraptions, always
breaking down at the worst moments. And you’ve had to walk for miles with
nothing around? And the poor young lady is sick? Come inside. Do. I’ll fix you
both a nice cup of tea. And I’ll see what I can do for you poor dears.”

The poor dears
gratefully followed her into the house. But Ethan said, “We don’t want to
impose. Maybe we could just use your phone.”

“Of course you
may. I’m Mrs. Tate, by the way. Who do you need to call? Someone to come tow
your car away?”

Ethan eased Ashley
into the chair Mrs. Tate pulled out. Then, obviously thinking fast, he said,
“Our car is completely useless. All we need is a ride into the nearest town.
Maybe we could call a taxi.”

“You could,”
Mrs. Tate said dubiously, puttering around the kitchen. “But the closest town
that would be of any help to you is Sioux City, and that’s thirty miles away.
It would cost you a fortune to call a taxi.”

Ethan sighed,
and Ashley noticed an almost helpless look on his face. After all, they had
less than ten dollars between them.

“I’ll tell you
what,” Mrs. Tate said cheerfully. “My husband is out of town until tomorrow
morning. But when he comes back, he’ll drive you into the city. The young lady
here is in no shape to do much today anyway. So you all just spend the day with
me, and we’ll get you into the city first thing in the morning.”

“But you don’t
know us,” Ethan said. “We could be criminals you were letting into your house.”

There was an
irony there that Ashley wasn’t in any shape to appreciate.

Mrs. Tate
tittered with amusement. “Don’t be silly. I knew what the both of you were as
soon as I saw you, or I would never have let you into my home.” She peered into
Ashley’s face. “You, dear, are clever, quick, stubborn and strong—but with a
bigger heart than you know.” Ashley gaped at her, but the old woman had turned
to look at Ethan. “And you, young man—oh, yes, I see you’ve had a very hard
time in life—but underneath it, you are generous and sensitive and have a
spirit of sacrifice.”

Ashley couldn’t
hold back a gasp, and she stared at the old woman with awe and wonder at this
assessment of the two of them. She could see Ethan had something similar on his
face.

Mrs. Tate
tittered again. “Now, don’t be fearing that I’m a witch. I was just born with
strong intuition about people, and I’ve had eighty years to develop it. Please
say that you’ll stay. You’ll be doing me a favor. I don’t like to be alone, and
you could help me with a few little chores, if you insist on paying me back.”

After some more
discussion, it was finally decided that they would stay. Ethan was sitting next
to Ashley during the whole conversation, but—looking at his closed-off face—she
knew they had never been farther apart.

***

Ashley lounged on the ancient
sofa in the living room, feasting on tea and toast. Physically, she felt remarkably
better. She and Ethan had bathed—Mrs. Tate had a lovely claw foot tub, but no
shower in the house at all—and Mrs. Tate had given them some borrowed clothes
to wear. So Ethan was dressed in Mr. Tate’s old jeans and a plaid button-up
shirt, and Ashley was wearing an old-fashioned, blue cotton dress.

All she needed
was an apron to look like she belonged on an episode of
Little House on the
Prairie
. But she was cool and comfortable, and Mrs. Tate was treating her
like an invalid, not even allowing her to get up and help with the chores.

Ethan had moved
a couple of boxes and fixed two cupboards in the kitchen. She hoped it wasn’t
too much for his bullet wound, but he didn’t seem to be in pain.

Physical pain,
at least.

Ashley was
finally allowed to get off the couch at lunchtime, since Mrs. Tate decided that
she was well enough to do so. They ate a lunch of sandwiches and fruit salad,
and the meal was uneventful, aside from a brief awkwardness at the beginning,
when Ashley and Ethan reached for their plates at the same time that Mrs. Tate
started to say a simple prayer of thanks for the food. She kindly overlooked
their obvious surprise.