Jack (The Family Simon 2)

She glanced up into the mirror, saw the smudges beneath her eyes, and in spite of her tan, saw the paleness beneath it all

. She saw the fear and pain. She saw the guilt.

She was never going to have that happily ever after. Not with Jack and probably not with anyone else. Her story, it seemed, had already been written. She was just too damn stupid, too full of denial to see it. She may as well pull up her big girl pants and deal with the situation once and for all.

“Just do it,” she whispered fiercely. She ripped the box apart and took out the small white device, removing the cellophane wrapper with shaking fingers.

Oh. God. She felt sick.

After reading the instructions, she got down to business, and once she was done, set the stick back onto the counter. The instructions said to wait a full five minutes for the result, and after washing her hands, she left the bathroom. No way was she gonna sit in there and wait.

The sky was lighter now. Dawn was breaking.

Restless, Donovan ran downstairs, and after a few moments of indecision, grabbed a granola bar from the cubby along with a bottle of water. She ran out the door, making sure Coco didn’t follow her and headed up the road.

A walk would do her good. She needed to clear her head and get her shit together. She needed to be strong, because there was no way in hell she could let Jack know that she was still hopelessly in love with him.

Nope. That couldn’t happen.

Not even if there was a baby.

The road that led from the Simon home was steep and narrow, lined with trees that stood as silent as soldiers. It was eerie, being out here alone at this time in the morning, but there was also a kind of peace as well.

When she reached the top, Donovan paused, slightly out of breath, and glanced to the right and then to the left. If she went left, she’d end up near the main road. The main road meant people, and she sure as hell didn’t want to deal with people. Tugging the brim of her ball cap lower, she took a swig of water and headed to the right.

She followed the road for about an hour before she came to a fork. By this time, the sun was much higher in the sky, and she slipped off her hoodie, tying it around her waist as she continued on her way, opting to head into the trees than toward the water.

She walked for a couple hours and then stopped to rest, eating her granola bar and nearly finishing her water. She would have stayed put a bit longer, but the bugs were horrible and she went on her way.

She hiked through the bush for hours it seemed and when the stitch in her side became sharp, she paused, glancing around. Okay. She was going to take a guess and say that she was lost. When was the last time she’d seen a house? Or the water? The path she’d been on no longer looked well used. In fact it looked nothing like the footpath she’d started out on.

Unease made her gut churn and Donovan reached for her water again, careful to take only enough to quench her thirst. It was hot, even here beneath the canopy of evergreens, and she realized that as well as being lost, she had no idea what time it was either.

“Shit,” she murmured, turning in a full circle. Did she follow the path back? But hadn’t she branched off from the original road at some point?

A snap in the forest had her heart pounding, and she froze. She was pretty sure bears inhabited these woods and that thought brought with it a few hot, stinging tears.

Great.

She was lost and now she was going to be some bear’s dinner. Just like Donovan to get herself into a pickle. If her mama was here, she’d be wagging her forefinger and shaking her head in that way that made Donovan feel as if she hadn’t passed the third grade.

“I bet a third grader wouldn’t have gotten lost,” she muttered, patting the pocket of her jacket. But there was no cell phone there. You know, because that would have been the smart thing to do.

Damn. Wiping sweat from her brow, she exhaled, eyes narrowed, as she peered past the silent trees.

“Screw it,” she mumbled, swallowing her fear. There wasn’t anything to do but keep going. The path had to lead somewhere right? Because if it didn’t? Well, then she would be totally screwed.

Donovan had always been the sort to believe in the impossible. A few years back when ‘The Secret’ had been on everyone’s reading list (way before that Fifty Shades book), she’d picked up a copy and read it in one sitting. Her mother had thought it was nothing but a bunch of baloney, but Donovan had eaten up every word and she was a believer. The secret to success was visualization. Believe it and it would happen.

She visualized her success. Her songs and career. She visualized what she wanted and wasn’t surprised when it happened. Of course she’d never applied that philosophy to her personal situation, but right now she was of the opinion that a little bit of that mojo just might be in order.

So she kept on and tried not to think about bears or being lost. Tried not to think about how hungry she was or how little water she had left. She didn’t dwell on the fact that a good part of her bare arm was blotchy from mosquito and horse fly bites. And she sure as hell didn’t think about that pregnancy stick back at the house. Nope. She would worry about that later.

She kept walking. Tried to hum a few songs but wasn’t in the mood. And when she finally spied water through the trees, she gave a yell and began to run. Ignoring the pain in her right ankle, the result of twisting it earlier, she half slid, half ran down a steep incline and landed at the bottom on her ass.

Donovan spied a small cottage about fifty yards ahead and to the right of it, a boathouse and dock. The relief was huge, and she rolled over, dusted herself off and limped up to the house. She banged on the door, smoothing her hair a bit because she was pretty sure she looked like a crazy lady. Her braid had come undone, and she’d lost her ball cap when she’d tumbled down the incline.

The instant euphoria she’d felt when she spied the home faded as she continued to knock, but there was no answer. Close to tears, Donovan peeked inside, but saw nothing. No movement. No sign that anyone had been there recently.