In The Arms of a Stranger by Kristen Robinette Read Free Book Online Page A

having been stored, but she couldn’t have cared less. The socks and fleece pants were heavenly against her skin, warming her instantly. She walked to the side of the bed and arranged a pillow against the headboard, then slid carefully beside the baby. Despite herself, she relaxed. It was a strange, surreal state. One part relief and two parts exhaustion. Mentally she was still pumped with adrenaline, though, and her mind relentlessly returned to the scene of the accident, then back to the events that had brought her to this darkened room with the man who now stood watch.
    Her gaze followed Luke as he paced from the window to the hall. When he glanced in her direction, she looked down, embarrassed that she’d been staring.
    He’d done the same, she reminded herself. And more.
    Her eyes now accustomed to the dark, she could see that the baby was peacefully sleeping at her hip, his lips pursed and his fist balled next to his chubby cheek. She lightly stroked his cheek with her fingertips. His skin was like velvet, so new and unmarred. It was a miracle that he hadn’t been injured in the accident.
    â€œHow could someone be so careless with this precious life?” she whispered, as much to herself as to Luke.
    Luke turned to face her. “What do you mean, careless?”
    Dana realized that she hadn’t explained the cause of theaccident. Her mind flashed back to the whiskey bottle as it tumbled from the car and shattered at her feet, to the sound of metal screaming against rock as the car slid down the mountain face. The memory was so vivid that she jumped, waking the baby. He struggled to find the thread of sleep again, his little fist punching the air at the unseen enemy that had awakened him. Dana traced the outline of his ear, cooing and whispering until the soothing motion worked its magic.
    When she looked up, she found Luke staring at her, waiting for an answer.
    â€œThe mother had been drinking.” She heard the anger in her words and realized that it matched the anger she felt. A delayed reaction, she supposed, but fierce.
    Her comment was met with silence, as if Luke were considering the validity of her words. “Are you sure?” he finally asked.
    Was she sure? She stifled an edgy laugh. “Yes, I’m sure. There were several bottles of alcohol in the car. Only one of them was full. It fell out and broke at my feet.”
    â€œCan you tell me about the accident now?”
    Now… The single word said a lot.
    It said that he’d known how close she’d been to breaking down and that he’d intentionally gone easy on the questions because of it. She was grateful. It was only natural that someone in his position would be anxious—obligated even—to sort out the details of the accident. And again he’d used that soft, hypnotic voice. She realized that, intentional or not, he used it when he wanted to soothe her or needed her cooperation.
    Like now.
    At first she was reluctant, but talking about the events surrounding the accident proved easier than she’d imagined, likely because she’d relived it in her head countless timesalready. And each time she relived it, certain details grew clearer, jumped out at her. Her years as a reporter were probably to blame. She’d reported on and written about catastrophic events for so many years that certain dramatic details tended to jump out at her, stick in her memory, even when she would rather they didn’t.
    This was similar, she realized, as she recited the events to Luke for at least the third time. The one detail that kept emerging, each time with more intensity, was that the mother had been drinking. She was surprised to hear the anger in her voice. She hadn’t realized how angry she was at the infant’s mother until now. But she was. Because of one reckless decision, a little boy would grow up without a mother.
    Just as she had.
    Finally weary of her own voice, she stilled, waiting for