In Plain Sight

Triss blew out a sigh of relief as she peered through the falling snow out her windshield. She’d made it to Summit Springs without mishap or pursuit. The weather had almost derailed her last leg to town with the snow falling hard and thick, and her car without snow tires.

That’s because I lived in lowland California. We don’t do snow.

But that was the life she’d left behind and now there was a new her, a new home, and a new future.

For me and my baby.

She was only showing a little, but to folks who didn’t know her well, they’d think she was just plump. She wanted to press a hand to her belly, but she needed both on the wheel to keep the car going straight on the snow-packed road.

Summit Springs was adorable in the snow. While the town wasn’t decorated for the winter holidays, they’d left white lights strung around the decorative streetlights and it created a winter fairytale look.

She passed the [Artists Gallery] just as the big SUV with SHERIFF emblazoned on the side turned on its flashing lights and sped away from the curb. Triss straightened up and kept her gaze locked on the road, trying to look normal. The last thing she wanted was anyone in law enforcement to take notice of her.

Because that’ll get back to him.

Him being her husband—only because he wouldn’t agree to an annulment.

She shook her head and shoved him out of her mind as she continued through town, passing Wood You? Boutique, Nonna’s Kitchen restaurant, Rocky Mountain Reads and the Silver Nugget Hotel. Caffeine Ivy’s stood across the alley from the bookstore and she took a careful left between them.

Tisane LaRoche, her one friend from her knitting group that she’d kept, told her to contact Emily Lewiston, owner and barista at Caffeine Ivy’s in Summit Springs, Colorado. Emily apparently had also experienced an abusive situation, and now vowed to help anyone who needed it.

And I definitely needed it.

The building housing Caffeine Ivy’s had been extended from the brick façade to include a garage with two roll-up doors. According to Tisane, the door on the left would be left unlocked for Triss to pull her car in. She stopped with the motor running and stepped out in the snow, her fleece coat barely stopping the wind that whipped the flakes in the lights off the side of the building.

Fuck, it’s cold here!

She hurried to the lefthand door and using her sleeve to cover her hand, grasped the metal door handle to heave it open. It rose a lot faster than she thought it would, and she damn near threw the thing up. Only grasping the door with her other hand stopped it from crashing up on its runners. She bit her lip and glanced around, hoping she hadn’t caught anyone’s attention, before hurrying back to her car to pull it in the empty garage.

She turned off the motor and let out a sigh. She’d made it. Now she just had to knock on the door she’d seen between the coffee shop and the garage. It looked like an apartment entrance with a street address number and a little awning to cover the doorway.

She got out of her car and rummaged for her duffle bag and backpack in the back. She pulled them out and headed out of the garage, careful to close the door more gently than she’d opened it. Satisfied it was secure and the tracks in the alley would soon fill with snow, she headed to the door with the number on it.

She rang the bell beside a small window box with fake flowers, swaying gaily in the wintery wind. She glanced down the alley toward the road as a car drove past, hoping no one would see her standing at the door beneath the awning. To her relief, the light came on through the window in the door and a woman gave her a smile and a wave before she pushed the door open.

“Hi, you must be Beatrice Singleton, right?”

Triss nodded. “Yes, but I go by Triss.”

The woman stepped back and inclined her head. “Triss. Okay. I’m glad you made it before the storm got really bad. I was worried when I didn’t hear anything. I’m Emily Lewiston. Come on upstairs and I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”