Chapter 18
He carried her in his arms all the way back to the cabin, walking in bare feet, while she held a pair of boots in each hand. She didn’t care about her boots. Or the snake. She cared about the kisses that had sent her body into a delicious tailspin.
He kicked open the cabin door and stepped just inside the doorway. She felt like she’d tumbled back into time, into a one-room pioneer home. A cot-like bed being the most prominent feature of the room, or at least, the one her gaze settled on first. The wooden logs that formed the walls and single window made it dark, but also cozy, as the sun set outside. A potbellied stove on the far wall was the only other major piece of furniture besides a small table with one chair pulled up next to it. A bouquet of brilliant-yellow sunflowers sat on the table, next to a lantern, brightening the room.
But the wood floor looked recently swept, and a lovely quilt covered the bed. Despite the cabin’s rough exterior, the interior looked sweet and welcoming.
“You set this up?”
He moved to let her down, and she slid against his hard body, enjoying every bump and bulge until her bare feet hit the floorboards.
“Came out yesterday, cleaned it up, put fresh linens on the bed.” He looked kind of embarrassed at his planning.
She dropped the two sets of boots by the door. “I love sunflowers. They’re my favorite. How did you know?” She couldn’t remember mentioning that to anyone.
He shrugged, the grin on his face wide. “They just reminded me of you.”
She stood on tiptoes, wrapped her arms around his neck, pressed her body into his, and she kissed him. His tongue swept inside her mouth, and she tasted him. Salty and sweet. His mouth was aggressive against hers and then, as if a switch had been flipped, his lips softened, caressed, compelled as his hands rubbed her back.
Her heart hammered, her insides warmed, and all she wanted was him. All of him. His fingers brushed through her hair, hot and tingling, while his lips swept against hers, light and teasing. She wanted more.
Suddenly, nothing else mattered. Not the charity event, not her father, not her to-do list, and not her bruised heart. The only thing that mattered was getting closer to Rusty. This was what lust felt like.
Still feeding her kisses, he moved them to the bed and gently laid her on top of the soft quilt. He slipped in beside her, and she cuddled close, squeezing against his hard hot body.
“Is that a pistol in your pocket, or are you just glad to be here?” she murmured, feeling like she’d been drugged.
“I want to make love to you, Kristy. All night long.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. Then her neck. Then her collar bone. Spikey tingles seared through her body and she moaned. It had been a long time since she’d felt wanted, desired, loved.
“All night,” he said again.
She was exhausted from a night of wonderful, glorious sex, but even in a deep sleep, she heard sounds. Calling. Mutterings. And then yelling.
She bolted upright and glanced at Rusty. In the moonlight streaming in the window, she could see that though his eyes were closed, his face was contorted as he called out.
“Don’t… don’t.” His arm landed against her side, and a sharp jolt went through her body. She grabbed where the blow had landed, though any sensation had left.
By then he was awake, sitting up, blinking away the sleep.
“Are you okay?” she asked, unsure of what had just occurred.
“Did I hurt you?” He glanced at where she was holding her side.
“Just surprised me. Was it a nightmare?”
He sank back down onto the bed without answering her.
“You were asleep but calling out, and then your arm slammed into my side.”
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
“What happened?” She wanted to know, wanted to understand what had caused him such turmoil in the middle of the night.
He sighed. “I get these nightmares from time to time. Haven’t had one in a few weeks. Was hoping they were gone.” He rubbed his eyes.
“It sounded pretty intense.” Something was troubling him, and she wanted to know what it was. “Is it always the same nightmare?”
“Pretty much.”
From her limited knowledge, that wasn’t good. “Tell me about it.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“It’s my issue.”
“As of tonight, it’s my issue.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Especially if we are going to do this again. I need to be prepared. Maybe with bumper guards.”
He snorted. “It’s just nightmares I get sometimes. Do you really need to know?”
“I do.”
He shifted on his side to face her. “It’s not like it’s a horror movie or anything.”
“Tell me.”
He sighed. “In it, something is happening to someone.” He talked slowly, his voice still coated in sleep. “Mostly they’re drowning, but sometimes they’re sinking in quicksand or getting buried alive. I try to save them. I pull and pull and pull, and they don’t budge, and I don’t have enough strength to keep pulling them.”
He paused. She waited.
“Sometimes there’s a helicopter hovering overhead and the wind from the blades causes me to lose my grip. Sometimes it’s muddy and they’re too slippery to get hold of.” He said it matter of factly, but she sensed this was not something he shrugged off.
“And the person doesn’t make it?”
He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut.
“And you have these dreams a lot?”
He opened his eyes but didn’t look at her. Just stared off into space. “Used to get them most nights while I was serving. Now, it’s been less. But I still get them now and again.”
She slid down to rest her head on his chest and listened to the rapid beat of his heart.
“How long have you been getting these?”
“Since I was a kid.”
“Since you were a kid?” If it was linked to his deployment, she could understand. But as a kid?
He let out a huff. “It’s not something I like to talk about.”
“I’d like to know.” She didn’t want to force him, but sometimes it helped to talk about these things. She counted six heart beats before he spoke.
“My friend drowned when I was nine. In a pond. On our ranch. We were skating on the pond when it wasn’t completely frozen. By ourselves. Miles from the house. I couldn’t save him. I went for help, riding as fast as our old pony could take me. But by the time I found my pa and he came out, my friend was gone. In the spring they found his body.”
Her throat tightened, and her heart felt like it was in a vise. How could any child deal with such tragedy? “That’s horrible.”
“I vowed I would never be that helpless again.”
His voice had a fierceness she’d never heard before.
“You were a kid. You must know it wasn’t your fault.”
“We shouldn’t have been skating on that pond. He insisted we skate, but I should have known better. I did know better.”
“That’s a heavy burden to carry around.” And likely enough to give someone, anyone, nightmares, much as he seemed to relish being Rusty to the rescue.
“I think it’s part of the reason I went into the air force, into pararescue. I wanted to learn enough that I would never feel helpless again.”
“But you said not every mission was successful.” How could it be? By his own admission there were too many variables.
“That’s the part I didn’t figure on. Because when I wasn’t successful, it would trigger these nightmares, and they would come in waves, over and over again. Sometimes it would take months for them to go away. But they’re never gone for long.” He sounded tired, defeated.
“So wouldn’t becoming a policeman subject you to more of these tragedies? You won’t be able to save everyone then either.” Now that she knew his truth, concerned bubbled over like a boiling pot on high flame.
He shrugged. “In my mind I know I can’t save everyone. Just need my subconscious to agree.” He shifted to his other side, away from her. “I’m better than most at it.”
“I don’t think it works like that.” She snuggled up to his back. Laid her hand on his hip. “You’re a brave man, Rusty. And you’re very capable. But maybe you shouldn’t keep re-traumatizing yourself this way.”
“I’m fine. Just a little nightmare. Is it a deal-breaker?” He sounded weary. And apprehensive.
She raised her head to look over at him. “Of course not. I just hate to see this happen to you. You sounded frantic.” He didn’t say anything but laid his hand over hers. She nestled her head against his back. They stayed like that awhile. Not talking, just listening to each other breathe. “Was it the snake by the creek?”
“Maybe.” He turned so their bodies were front to front. Then he rubbed his hand up and down her back, as if she were the one who needed comforting.
“Is that part of the reason you didn’t want to work the ranch?” That would also explain why his family was so understanding about his not wanting to take it over.
“Maybe. I wasn’t lying, though, when I said I didn’t want to do it for the rest of my life. But it’s not easy passing by the place where he drowned. Always feel I have to stop out of respect. And I do. Say a prayer. Talk to him. And then that helpless feeling comes rushing right back.”
She kissed him again, because she didn’t know what to say. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed her close to him. “I know what would take my mind off of it. Yours too.” Then he gave her a soul-searing kiss.
This time she woke to the sound of Rusty sliding out of bed. Dawn was inching its way through the window, leaving the room cloaked in gray light. She heard one of the horses neigh, while the other one was snorting and blowing.
“What is it?” she asked, not able to swallow away the sleep that covered her vocal chords.
“Horses are agitated. Something is out there.” She could see his figure pulling on pants and tugging on boots.
She watched as his shadowy form headed toward the far wall. Where the rifle was waiting.
She was wide awake now.
She rested on her elbows. “What do you think it is?” She needed to use the outhouse. Great timing.
“Don’t know. Not taking any chances. You stay in here.”
“Isn’t it best for you to stay in here too?” What if something happened to him? She was not a pararescuer in any way, shape, or form.
“If something is spooking the horses, I best drive it off.” She could see the outline of the rifle in his hands. “Stay here.” His tone brooked no argument.
She’d just have to wait. Not so easy to do.
It was a few heartbeats before she heard the boom of the rifle. The horses snorted their displeasure. Another boom. So something had been out there.
She waited for the door to open, for him to come back in. And she waited. The horses had quieted, and she listened to the silence.
Where was he?
She looked out the single window. By now, dawn had broken and daylight shone, so she could see everything. Except, the window was on the other side of the cabin, where nothing was stirring but a lone bird hopping on the ground.
She moved to the door. Cracked it open. The horses were still tied to the railing and seemingly calm, but there was no sign of Rusty. Maybe he had headed down to the stream to freshen up. She had used all the water in the bucket last night. The water buckets for the horses were turned over.
She opened the door wider.
It was then that she saw him, curled up on the ground. And not moving.
Her heart leaped into her throat, clogging it as she bolted out the door.
She ran to him dressed only in an oversized T-shirt. Grass crunched under her bare feet, and her heart hammered in her chest.
“Rusty. Rusty.” She crouched down. He wasn’t moving, and his eyes were closed, but he was breathing, thank the Lord. She touched him, though not moving him, in case something was broken. Fingers of panic clawed up her throat. “Please, please open your eyes.”
He stirred. Groaned. Moved.
“Don’t move. You may be hurt.”
His eyes opened. “What the hell?”
“You must have fallen.” She looked around. A tree root protruded out of the ground. That must have tripped him. “Stay still.”
“Damn.” He rolled on his side, ignoring her plea. He shook his head, as if clearing it, and propped up on his elbows.
“Are you hurt?”
“Just my pride. Though likely to feel the bruises I’m surely gonna have.”
“If that’s all, thank God.”
“Coyote was here sniffing around the horses, stirring them up. Are they okay?”
“I don’t know. I was so worried about you. They’re still tied to the railing.”
He sat fully up and held his head in his hands. “God, I’m going to have some hangover.”
“Can you ride?” Not sure what she would do if he couldn’t.
“Sure. Though I’m going to need a few minutes to get my sea legs under me. What did I trip over?” He looked around.
“Looks like a tree root.” She pointed to the offending item. “And you likely hit your head on the rest of it when you came down.” She looked at his bare chest to see if there was any blood. He was dirty, but no skin appeared to be broken.
“Great.”
“You passed out. “
“Great.”
“That means you have a concussion. You’ll need to see a doctor.”
“I’m fine. Just fell. Where’s the rifle?”
She looked around and spied it several feet away. “You dropped it.” Thank goodness, or he could have shot himself.
“I’m getting up.”
“Let me help.”
He looked at her through squinting eyes. “I’m fine, Kristy. Thanks for your concern, but I’m fine.”
She stepped back to give him room. He was a stubborn man, but she had to trust that his experience would have told him if he needed her. “You’re not fine. You passed out. I’m taking you to the ER when we get back. They’ll tell you if you’re fine or not.”
He proceeded to push up using his hands, bending his back. It looked awkward, but he stood up by himself.
“How do you feel?” she asked.
“Like I fell down a rabbit hole.” He rubbed his face, which was covered in dirt. “I’ve got to feed the horses, and then we can get a move on.”
“I’ll take care of the horses and pack up. You sit inside and wait for me.” She’d first have to make that trip to the outhouse.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
He closed his eyes. Did she imagine it, or did he sway a little.
He hung his head. “I’ll wait inside.”
Finally he was listening to her.
He walked to the rifle, picked it up, and moseyed into the cabin. “I’m leaving the door open so I can see you’re all right,” he yelled.
“I’m heading for the outhouse first.”
The breezy morning air had a tinge of coolness to it, but soon the sun would be beating down. If he was able to ride out, they needed to do it as soon as possible, to take advantage of the milder temperature.
***
It felt like a sledgehammer was pounding his head, but nothing felt broken. Everything seemed to work just fine. Falling was one of the things he’d practiced plenty of times, so he knew how to fall. Tripping over a root had surprised him, but his instincts must have taken over, because he remembered curling into a ball.
It could have been worse. A splitting headache was nothing.
He picked up his watch from the small table by the potbellied stove. They needed to get a move on if he was going to get her back in a reasonable time, like he’d promised.
He picked up the rest of yesterday’s clothes from the floor and pulled out the extra set from the saddle bag, dragging some of Kristy’s clothes with it. He stilled for a minute. His head wasn’t keen on motion.
He laid her clothes on the bed and shoved into a T-shirt. He’d wash up when he got home.
That had been some night of lovemaking. Not even getting dinged in the head could erase the good feelings that surged inside him. He knew it would be good with her. But it was better than good.
If things were different, if he didn’t have those nightmares, if he could trust himself, she’d be the one. But he was sure his confession last night had crossed him off her list of ideal candidates to get involved with. That always had been his fear, especially after the air force: that he came with too much baggage to be considered husband material by any decent woman.
That was why he had gone for casual, no-expectations relationships. Easier on him if he could keep things light, not get too invested. Not get hurt when the woman hightailed it out of the relationship. But even though he hadn’t known Kristy long, he didn’t feel casual about her. And last night had only deepened those feelings.
Now that she knew about his nightmares, knew the ugly truth, she’d probably want to end it.
He tucked his old clothes into the saddlebag, and the door opened. He whirled around. The room spun. He stood still, not moving until the room settled.
“What are you doing? You’re supposed to sit in that chair and wait for me.” She stood with her hands on her luscious hips.
“I’m fine,” he lied. “Nothing is bothering me.”
“So you say. But you fell, hit your head, and passed out.”
Yeah, he definitely had too much baggage for her.
She set about gathering her extra set of clothes. He sat down on the bed and watched her get dressed. She turned her back to him as she pulled up her T-shirt. If his head wasn’t aching, he’d have laughed. He’d seen plenty of her in last night’s shadowy light.
And he remembered every detail. The smoothness of her skin, the roundness of her breasts, the tightness of her belly as he’d kissed his way down to the promise land. He remembered the salty taste on his tongue, her mews of pleasure, the sweetness of her lips, her shuddered breaths.
After what they did during the night, there wasn’t anything to be shy about.
“After we stop at the ER, I’m going to take a nice, hot shower.” Kristy combed her hair with her fingers now that she’d changed into jeans and a shirt. Her shiny blond tresses framed her face like the petals of the sunflowers sitting on the table.
“I don’t need a doctor. And there’s the creek, if you’re inclined.”
She faked a shiver. “No thank you. I’m feeling too good to ruin it with a cold bath.”
He reached out for her. She came and stood between his legs, her hands on his shoulders. Maybe there was still a chance.
“Last night was special for me. I hope it was for you too.”
She nodded.
“Are you looking forward to more?” He held his breath for her answer.
She nodded. She leaned down for a kiss. He obliged, even though his temples were rapping out a beat. Maybe she wasn’t going to run after all.
After a half-hour wait at the ER, with Kristy arguing several times that he had to stay and be looked at or she wouldn’t answer his calls, the doctor examined Rusty, took an x-ray, told him to take acetaminophen (no NSAIDs) and not to be alone for twenty-four hours, and sent him home.
If this was what it took to continue seeing her, he’d obliged. Because she didn’t sound like she would be bailing on him. Maybe she was just being nice to his face and when he left her, she’d ghost him. But nothing ventured, nothing gained.
“I told you it was nothing.” He held open the car door for her. He felt fine. Even the pounding had diminished into tapping. Good enough to drive.
“If you hadn’t passed out, I wouldn’t have been so concerned. But you were out of it when I found you.” She slipped past him and settled into the passenger seat.
Good that she wasn’t going to argue about him driving. She wouldn’t have won.
Once in the driver’s seat, he turned on the engine and patted her leg as he shifted the car into drive. “I appreciate your concern.” The fact she cared enough about him to insist he see a doctor he’d take as a positive sign.
“How is your head now?” she asked.
“Not too bad.” He reached over and opened the glove compartment, pulling out a small bottle of acetaminophen. “Two of these will have me feeling even better.”
He popped them into his mouth and swallowed. With that, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. He’d take that as a good sign too.