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since the
Johnstown flood."
"That was well before her time, Ally. What put you in such a good mood?"
"I'm hungry."
"Oh." He looked around at the darkening landscape. Three fields and a barn. No
house, motel, or restaurant in sight. "Well, we'll get a ride to the next
town, find a room, and lay low for the rest of the day. Okay?"
"Okay." She hunched her shoulders against the cold as the sun dipped behind
the clouds. And then what? They couldn't go on like this
indefinitely, hitchhiking aimlessly around the Northeast in an effort to keep
one step ahead of the law.
A trucker picked them up around dinnertime and offered to take them as far as
Whooping Crane Branch, wherever the hell that was. Two hours later, he let
them off at another crossroads. Whooping Crane Branch boasted a post office, a
gas station, and a coffee shop with an out of business sign on the door. The
gas station and post office were closed for the evening and wouldn't
reopen until tomorrow morning.
Chance and Ally washed themselves in the little creek that ran alongside the
town.
Ally clenched her teeth as the icy water made her shiver. Why had she never
before noticed how cold September nights were? Slightly cleaner than before,
and hungrier than ever, she dejectedly followed Chance as he set off
to find some place they could bed down for the night.
Chapter Ten
The barn was old and musty and drafty, but it was better than sleeping out in
the open. By the time they found it, Ally wanted nothing more in life than to
lie down and curl up into a ball, so she wasn't inclined to be critical to its
lack of facilities.
"I didn't know there were so many empty places in America," she said wearily,
sitting on a wooden bench as Chance explored the dark interior of the barn.
"We must have walked for miles."
"No, just a few hundred yards," he called from the hayloft.
"How could there be no house, no car, no nothing for miles around?"
"You talk just like a New Yorker." He sounded amused. "This is nothing.
Out west is where it's really empty. There are places out there where you
could go for days without seeing another living soul."
"If you're trying to cheer me up, you're failing miserably," she grumbled.
He came back down to the ground floor a few minutes later. It was so dark, she
could barely make out his features. "Come up to the loft," he invited softly.
"It's a little warmer up there, and I made you a bed out of straw
and part of a horse blanket."
She groaned. "I feel like I'm stuck in an old Claudette Colbert movie and
can't escape."
"You'll feel better once you've had some sleep."
"The only thing that will ever make me feel better again," she
said, "is a hot shower, a change of clothes, and a really big
pizza with everything on it.'' She softened a bit when he led her to the
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makeshift bed he had made. It was scratchy and lumpy and unsanitary, not to
mention rather damp, but she could tell he had tried hard to provide her with
some comfort. "Thanks, Chance. This seems very, uh, very nice."
"Why don't you lie down and get some rest?"
When he let go of her hand, she heard something skittering and shuffling above
them. "What's that?"
"Just birds," he soothed.
"Or mice?"
"Birds," he repeated, probably lying.
"Where will you be?"
"Just over there." He pointed to another pile of straw.
She peered into the darkness. "It doesn't look very comfortable."
"I've slept like this before."
"When?"
"When I was growing up."
"Tumbled a few girls in haylofts?" she guessed.
"A few." In the darkness, she couldn't tell whether or not he was smiling.
"Try to get comfortable, Ally."
"All right."
She nestled into the rough, damp blanket and listened to him moving
around, getting ready for bed. The moon had risen, and now its alabaster rays
peeked coyly through the slats and windows above them, highlighting golden
strands of Chance's hair as he bent his head to remove his boots. She heard
them hit the floor one after the other. Thud, thud. Then he took off his
jacket.
"Aren't you cold?" she murmured. "I'm so cold." Her raw silk
blazer, sheer blouse, and torn stockings weren't much protection against the
night air.
"You're cold? Here, take my jacket."
"No, that's okay."
"Take it, Ally. The straw will keep me warm." He knelt beside her and spread
his jacket gently across her, tucking it in around her chin and shoulders.
"Better?"
"Yes." She wished she could see his eyes. "Chance, we can't keep on going like
this forever."
"I know. We've got to come up with a plan."
"Yes."
He lowered his head. "Have you given any more thought to turning me in?"
"No! I won't do it."
"Have you decided to believe me? One hundred percent?" He sounded doubtful.
"I want to believe you."
"That's not good enough."
"Your story rests entirely on& on your word."
"That's right. It does." His voice was uncompromising. "I need that to be
enough for you, Ally, even though I don't expect it to be enough for the
cops."
Her throat got tight, and she felt tears welling up in her eyes. It was such a
big step, especially after so many failures. "If you knew the kind of men I've
known&
My last boyfriend, two years ago, stole money from me to pay his Equity dues.
The guy before that didn't love me nearly so much as he loved my
rent-controlled apartment. And "
"Stop it." His voice was harsh, devoid of the sympathy she wanted from
him.
"Stop it, Ally. I don't want to hear about those bums, not right now. I'm not
going to take the rap for them, do you understand?"
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"But, Chance, I just don't "
"No, Ally. Did you learn from your mistakes, or not? Did you want me last
night for the same reasons you once wanted some jerk who stole your money?"
"No," she admitted. "Last night was different."
"You waited for two years, and then you chose me. I wish things hadn't
happened this way, but they did. So now you've got to decide what you
believe about me, Ally, and you don't have much time."
She sighed and remained silent, wishing she could make a clear choice, wishing
she could end this internal battle between her past and her present. She felt
Chance shift on the blanket and start to rise. She reached out to stop him.
"Chance, don't go." He hesitated, and she urged, "I'm still cold. Hold me."
She felt him tense. "You know that if I touch you, it won't end there."
"Okay."
He threw off her restraining hand. "Stop it," he growled. "We can't. Not with
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