looked expectantly at Seth. Still staring after the woman, Seth slapped the next piece of chicken on the man’s tray and wondered what the hell had just happened here.
He watched as she sat away from the others, finding a corner where there were only two chairs at a tiny table that looked out a window.
“Hey, snap out of it.”
Seth turned to see Craig standing beside him, his apron in hand.
“Margie’s ordering us to stand down and eat. Grab a plate and join us. She has one of the kitchen workers taking over the line in case we have any stragglers.”
Feeling anything but hungry, Seth fixed a plate and followed his friends to a table on the far side of the room. There wasn’t a lot of talking going on. Most of the people ate in silence, though there were a few conversations from some of the regulars who knew each other or hung out together on the streets.
He positioned himself so he could see the woman and tuned out the rest of the goings-on so he could watch her and take in every detail he could.
She ate daintily and never looked up or made eye contact with any of the others. When she wasn’t looking down at her food she fixed her gaze out the window, watching the people pass on the busy street. There was something wistful about her stare, and again, that protective surge came roaring to the surface.
“Who is she?” he blurted out.
“Who is who?” Craig asked.
Rob looked up and followed Seth’s gaze. “You mean her?”
“Yeah, I haven’t seen her before but it’s been a few months. When did she start coming in?”
Craig shrugged. “I haven’t seen her before. She wasn’t here last month. Maybe she’s new. Margie would know. She keeps up with everyone.”
Seth frowned, not liking the tired look on the woman’s face. She was young, early twenties, far too young to be out on the streets. Spring in Denver was often harsh with copious amounts of snow. She was so slight, and all she had was that sweater and a cap. She’d freeze to death.
“What’s bugging you, man?” Rob asked.
Seth shook his head. “Nothing.”
Seth forced himself to eat but watched the woman as the other people finished their meal and began to filter out. She remained, even after she’d finished eating. She pushed her plate to the side and rested her chin on the top of her fist as she continued to gaze out the window.
He cursed when one of the kitchen workers came over to collect her plate, because even though the worker didn’t say anything to the woman, the action prompted her to rise. She looked guiltily around as if she thought she’d overstayed her welcome, and then she hurried toward the door without a backward glance.
Before he realized it, he was on his feet and hurrying after her. It wasn’t something he could even explain. He had to go after her. He had to know where she was going, if she was safe.
Ignoring Rob and Craig’s startled exclamations, he strode out onto the street and looked left and right to see the direction she’d gone. Seeing her retreating figure to the right, he set off after her.
He kept his distance, not wanting to spook her. He felt like a damned stalker, and maybe that’s what he was. There was no reasonable explanation for his pursuit of her. It certainly had nothing to do with his cop’s instincts. He’d reacted to her as a man, and something about her called to a part of him that hadn’t ever awoken before.
For six blocks he followed her. His hands were clenched at his sides. She had no sense of self-preservation. She never looked up, never looked back to make sure she wasn’t followed. She blended seamlessly with the busy downtown crowd, and he quickened his step so he wouldn’t lose her.
He slowed when she turned into an alleyway. His approach was cautious. The last thing he wanted was to walk into a damn trap. He turned the corner and peered down to see her hunker down between two cardboard boxes. She disappeared from view and he stood there a moment, battling