back to sleep.”
Dottie and Jon looked from one to the other. “You sure you’re alright, Nick?” Jon eyed Nick closely. “Maybe a quick snack will help.”
“Great,” Dottie chimed in as she headed out of the room. “I’ll put on a pot of tea and we can chat.”
“Yep, a midnight snack will make everything better,” Jon muttered as he followed Dottie out the doorway. The kitchen light snapped on and water ran in the sink.
Rachel knelt down beside Nick. She smoothed his tousled hair aside revealing strain beneath bruised eyes. Nick Davidson harbored much more than a concussion to worry about. Energy drained from her like water from a stock tank. The stress of this entire adventure was wearing thin on both of them. Her hand slid to his shoulders where her fingers traced ruts sculpted by tension. Out of habit, she began to knead the knotted muscles. They both needed a good night’s sleep.
“Glad you’re alright.” Her voice fractured.
He flexed his arm and pulled away. “I told you not to worry.”
“Right.” She rose to her feet and bent a knee to the bed frame to steady herself. “I’ll keep that in mind next time you yell in the middle of the night.”
He stared straight ahead as he plowed his hand through his hair. “Your babysitting services aren’t wanted.”
The familiar words bore none of their usual bite. Helpless wasn’t a state cowboys accepted easily. An odd niggle of compassion warmed her cheek. She stifled a yawn and turned toward the doorway. “Dottie is making tea. Need a cup?”
Mattress springs groaned as Nick swung his legs around and stood up. He caught her around the shoulders and swayed until Rachel worried she’d not be able to hold him up. Nick caught his balance and leaned on her - another weakness she knew would not sit well with him. “You don’t have to join us, Nick.”
He pulled her close and stood in silence. The wind rattled the window as his warm breath tickled her ear. “You’ve had enough of me for one night. Get some sleep and I’ll sip tea with our hosts.”
CHAPTER NINE
Sleet hit the windshield as the truck cruised along at fifty miles an hour. Nick didn’t care about the speed anymore. They’d make it to Casper. He’d find Buster McKnight and share a room; Rachel would rent a car and head home. He wondered if they would even say good-bye to each other.
He hadn’t meant to tear into her. He hadn’t meant to insult her, to hurt her feelings. He hadn’t planned on encountering Rachel Hill in the middle of the night while the demons of his sins partied in his mind until the cows came home.
He swiped his hand over his face for the hundredth time since breakfast. His nightmare had returned. Stephanie leaving. . .him trying to stop her. . .and the watery wall of illusion that kept him from seeing anything else. But last night was different. A voice came from out of nowhere, calling his name, dragging him away from the repetitious scene and ragged emotions. With that voice came peace. He probably would’ve slept soundly the rest of the night had that voice continued its coaxing vein. Rachel had saved him last night in more ways than the obvious and no way could he thank her for doing it.
Nick glanced at the side mirror as sleet coated the road behind them. Some situations never made sense. The people you think you can depend on through the hard times let you down while the least likely candidates come through like a charm. He didn’t know anything about Rachel Hill other than she’d been there for him, the proverbial lighthouse in the fog of life.
Windshield wipers slapped across the window in front of him, icy sleet building up once again as soon as the surface cleared. Bleak, wet highway stretched before him, much like the path of his life. Hotel rooms, road meals, no name faces. . .his existence suited him. Don’t get involved and you don’t have to care.
The hum of
Dottie and Jon looked from one to the other. “You sure you’re alright, Nick?” Jon eyed Nick closely. “Maybe a quick snack will help.”
“Great,” Dottie chimed in as she headed out of the room. “I’ll put on a pot of tea and we can chat.”
“Yep, a midnight snack will make everything better,” Jon muttered as he followed Dottie out the doorway. The kitchen light snapped on and water ran in the sink.
Rachel knelt down beside Nick. She smoothed his tousled hair aside revealing strain beneath bruised eyes. Nick Davidson harbored much more than a concussion to worry about. Energy drained from her like water from a stock tank. The stress of this entire adventure was wearing thin on both of them. Her hand slid to his shoulders where her fingers traced ruts sculpted by tension. Out of habit, she began to knead the knotted muscles. They both needed a good night’s sleep.
“Glad you’re alright.” Her voice fractured.
He flexed his arm and pulled away. “I told you not to worry.”
“Right.” She rose to her feet and bent a knee to the bed frame to steady herself. “I’ll keep that in mind next time you yell in the middle of the night.”
He stared straight ahead as he plowed his hand through his hair. “Your babysitting services aren’t wanted.”
The familiar words bore none of their usual bite. Helpless wasn’t a state cowboys accepted easily. An odd niggle of compassion warmed her cheek. She stifled a yawn and turned toward the doorway. “Dottie is making tea. Need a cup?”
Mattress springs groaned as Nick swung his legs around and stood up. He caught her around the shoulders and swayed until Rachel worried she’d not be able to hold him up. Nick caught his balance and leaned on her - another weakness she knew would not sit well with him. “You don’t have to join us, Nick.”
He pulled her close and stood in silence. The wind rattled the window as his warm breath tickled her ear. “You’ve had enough of me for one night. Get some sleep and I’ll sip tea with our hosts.”
CHAPTER NINE
Sleet hit the windshield as the truck cruised along at fifty miles an hour. Nick didn’t care about the speed anymore. They’d make it to Casper. He’d find Buster McKnight and share a room; Rachel would rent a car and head home. He wondered if they would even say good-bye to each other.
He hadn’t meant to tear into her. He hadn’t meant to insult her, to hurt her feelings. He hadn’t planned on encountering Rachel Hill in the middle of the night while the demons of his sins partied in his mind until the cows came home.
He swiped his hand over his face for the hundredth time since breakfast. His nightmare had returned. Stephanie leaving. . .him trying to stop her. . .and the watery wall of illusion that kept him from seeing anything else. But last night was different. A voice came from out of nowhere, calling his name, dragging him away from the repetitious scene and ragged emotions. With that voice came peace. He probably would’ve slept soundly the rest of the night had that voice continued its coaxing vein. Rachel had saved him last night in more ways than the obvious and no way could he thank her for doing it.
Nick glanced at the side mirror as sleet coated the road behind them. Some situations never made sense. The people you think you can depend on through the hard times let you down while the least likely candidates come through like a charm. He didn’t know anything about Rachel Hill other than she’d been there for him, the proverbial lighthouse in the fog of life.
Windshield wipers slapped across the window in front of him, icy sleet building up once again as soon as the surface cleared. Bleak, wet highway stretched before him, much like the path of his life. Hotel rooms, road meals, no name faces. . .his existence suited him. Don’t get involved and you don’t have to care.
The hum of
Similar Books
