Chapter 24: The Front Door

I woke at first light to a man's arm across my waist and a small, furious noise from the bassinet.

Quinn was already awake. He had a way of lying still that meant he was listening.

"She's hungry," he said into my hair.

"She's always hungry."

"Stay there. I'll hand her over."

He reached across me, careful of everything, and lifted her out of the basket with one big hand under her back.

He laid her on my chest and went to start the coffee, on his own legs, with the walker.

I fed her sitting up against the pillows, with the morning coming through the curtains in long yellow stripes.

The house smelled of coffee and old wood, and the shell road was quiet outside.

The deed had been in my name alone since Friday. Damon had signed his half back from the county jail, with his lawyer standing over him.

When she had finished I wrapped her in the yellow-bordered quilt and carried her out through the kitchen to the front of the house.

Quinn stood in the hall with two mugs, watching me.

"Where are you going?"

"The front door."

"It's padlocked."

"I know," I said. "Is there a pair of bolt cutters in your truck?"

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