InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Hijacked Honeymoon ❯ Chapter 9

Hijacked Honeymoon

 

Chapter 9

 

With a pickup truck in the driveway, Sesshomaru suspected someone to be home. He figured the isolated farmhouse, where he stood a chance of controlling the situation, was a good place to find out if Kagome was with him or against him. He couldn't be sure if she'd been biding her time, pretending to go along with him, or if she still intended to try to get away.

 

The shooter and the video clip had to have gone a long way toward helping her see Sesshomaru's side of things. But he knew too well that people often believed what they wanted to believe despite all the evidence to the contrary. Changing one's mind required admitting one had been wrong—never an easy thing to do. However, Kagome had adapted to her situation much more easily then he'd expected, revealing a resilience that was as much a part of her spirited nature as her keen intelligence.

 

If Sesshomaru had been a gambling man, he'd have bet he had a fifty-fifty chance of her sticking by him. But that wasn't good enough. If she still doubted him, he needed to know now, before they returned to civilization. Deliberately, he didn't tell her what to say or do, except that they couldn't make a phone call without endangering the home's occupant. Instead, he'd watch her for sighs of what she was really thinking.

 

Together they walked down the gravel driveway. When a friendly mutt ran out to greet them, Kagome bent down and petted the dog, making a new friend by scratching behind his ears.

 

While the dog distracted her, Sesshomaru took in the sturdy two-story farmhouse. He noted the front door and a back deck that could be approached from the woods or serve as a quick getaway route with cover. No telephone wires led from the road to the house. The utilities could be underground or the owners used cell phones as their primary means of communication. As they ambled past the pickup, he spied a key in the ignition. Some of the tension in his shoulders eased. People who thought nothing of leaving their vehicle key around tended to be trusting and honest.

 

He knocked on the front door and wasn't surprised when an elderly woman opened it without asking who was there. Shoving back a lock of white bangs from bright-blue eyes, her crinkled face broke into a welcoming smile. She glanced from the mutt rubbing against Kagome to her torn bridle dress and beckoned them inside her narrow foyer. “I see you've already met Rascal. Did you folks break down on the road?”

 

When Kagome remained silent, Sesshomaru spoke up. “Someone ran us off the road in the park and we got turned around in the woods hiking out.”

 

“You folks come on in. I'm Daisy Arnold.”

 

“Steve and Linda,” Sesshomaru lied, wondering if Kagome would go along.

 

She passed his first test without hesitation. “Pleased to meet you, ma'am.”

 

Daisy ushered them past a dining room filled with Victorian furniture, vases displaying dried flowers and a spectaculars grandfather clock before entering a kitchen with ancient but sparkling appliances. With billowing checkered yellow-and-white curtains, a worn but spotless tablecloth and a crockery jug filled with wildflowers, the atmosphere was warm and homey.

 

Daisy hefted a glass pitcher. “Would you care for some sweet tea?”

 

“Thanks.” Sesshomaru placed his arm over Kagome's shoulder. “Is there any chance you might have some clothes we could purchase? I'd hate for Linda's parents to see her like this. They'd think I wasn't taking very good care of new bride.”

 

Daisy poured them each a glass of sweet tea, then pushed a plate of fresh-cooked biscuits in their direction. “My daughter left some clothes here that might do the trick.” She turned to Sesshomaru. “If you wouldn't mind digging out a chest from the corner of the attic for me…I'll see what I can find. No charge.”

 

Sesshomaru drained the tea in one long swallow, but into the best-tasting biscuit if his life and grinned. “My compliments to the chef. Ma'am, this biscuit could compete with and any restaurant this side of the Mason Dixon Line.”

 

“Why, thank you.” Daisy beamed at him. “My boys always liked them, too, and could have polished off that plate in minutes. There's blackberry preserves and honey over there. Help yourself. I love to cook, and with the kids all gowned up, Mac and me won't finish them before they go stale.”

 

Kagome sounded sincere. “Maybe you'd share the recipe? Or is it a family secret?”

 

“I'd be happy to give you the recipe, but first let's see about those cloths. If they fit, consider them a gift.”

 

As Sesshomaru followed Daisy down the hallway and helped her pull steps down from the ceiling that led to the attic, he marvelled at Daisy's helpfulness. Small towns in the south had certain advantages if their inhabitants were like Daisy Arnold. She hadn't asked one nosy question about the altered wedding dress. She'd fed them and taken them into her home with a Southern hospitality that made him realize that the cash he'd offered her might be considered an insult. Daisy came from an era where folks helped one another because it was the right thing to do.

 

He couldn't imagine even one if his neighbours in any of the big cities he'd lived in taking strangers into their home like she'd done for them. This side of life was one Sesshomaru had rarely seen and it made him feel guilty that he'd lied to the woman about their names.

 

Daisy climbed up the steps with the agility of a woman half her seventy-plus years. She yanked on a string that hung from the ceiling to turn on a light bulb. “There. See that chest under that stuff behind the oval mirror?”

 

“Yes, ma'am.” Sesshomaru dragged the chest out from under an old mattress, assorted cartons filled with books, dishes and old photographs.

 

Daisy flipped open the lock and he lifted the lid. She dug past an afghan blanket and stacks of sheets, retrieving a pair of worn jeans, a t-shirt that said University of Alabama, a pair of faded red-and-white sneakers and a baseball cap. She handed the clothing over to Kagome with a smile. “You look about my daughter's size while she was in collage. After three kids, she'd never fit into these cloths. So they're your if you want them.”

 

“Thanks. They look perfect.” Kagome set aside the cap. “I won't be needing this.”

 

Without the women noticing, Sesshomaru scooped up the cap and tucked it into his back pocket. He placed the chest back in the corner, turned off the light and hurriedly heaved the steps back into the attic ceiling while Daisy and Kagome went ahead to a bedroom so she could try on the clothes. If Kagome intended to betray him, now would be her best shot.

 

He stood outside the closed bedroom door, his ears to the wall, ready to barge in and interrupt the conversation if Kagome tried to tell Daisy more then she should or ask to use the phone. He prayed intervention wouldn't be necessary. As the women chatted about the fit of the clothing, he realized that although Kagome hadn't dine or said anything suspicious, he still couldn't trust her.

 

Perhaps she hadn't revealed anything about her situation because she hadn't wanted to upset Daisy. Or perhaps since there was no phone, Kagome was waiting for a better moment. When the two women exited the bedroom Kagome gave Daisy a piece of notepaper, his suspicions skyrocketed.

 

“Thanks, dear.” Daisy patted Kagome's shoulder in a motherly fashion. “Mac adored fried chicken and I can't wait to try out your recipe.”

 

“It's the least I could do in exchange for the clothes.”

 

“They weren't doing anyone any good in that old chest. I'm happy you can use them.” Daisy winked at her. “That tight t-shirt dose wonders for your figure.”

 

Sesshomaru had to agree. He hadn't realized Kagome was quite curvy, but when she'd bathed in that creek, his thoughts had drifted into fantasy where he envisioned water droplets clinging to bare flesh. He'd kept his back to her, but as each tiny coo of pleasure at her bath had reached him, his mind had gone where it had no business going.

 

He'd imagined her face clean of mud and dirt, her hair clean and silky. Her arms rising to her hair, her breasts tilting upward to the sunlight…and he'd gone off to his own bath, all too aware how attractive he found Kagome when she was covered with mud in a ripped dress. Resisting his desire for her when she'd cleaned up was going to be adding difficulty to an already trying mission.

 

Although he now found the t-shirt that molded her body a distraction, it was her handwritten note that had his attention. Had she penned a plea for help on the note or a genuine recipe for fried chicken?

 

A/N I am so happy with chapter, even though it's short, but I don't care. It'd good, their out of the woods, (and it only toke 8 chapter, lol), well hope you people liked it, R&R if you wanna. See you people next chapter, tootles.