Chapter Three #4
More tears fell over the edges of his eyes, and I wiped them away, all the while Jasper never stopped watching me.
“You have an American accent,” he said out of the blue.
He frowned, and I just knew this was the moment he’d realize I wasn’t an angel or a figment of his imagination, but instead his new rider who was grossly overstepping her place.
But Jasper took another drink of the whiskey, then held the bottle out to me.
“Take it, Angel,” he said, and I released his hand and took the bottle, placing it beside me.
Henry blew out a breath above Jasper, and Jasper lifted his hand up to his horse.
The stallion nuzzled his nose into Jasper’s palm, and I couldn’t help but smile.
Anyone who didn’t believe animals were a true gift from God had clearly never met a horse.
“I’m okay, boy,” Jasper slurred. I could see the bone-tiredness overtaking Jasper as he slouched even farther against the wall. He dropped his hand, and then looked to me and added, “I have an American, dark-haired, blue-eyed angel here, looking over me.”
I wasn’t sure I could take much more of Jasper’s compliments without bursting apart, so I got to my feet and retrieved my long robe from the bridle hook.
Bending down, I laid it over Jasper. I couldn’t move him, and it didn’t appear that he could walk, so I thought it was best to make him as comfortable as possible for a night sleeping on the concrete floor.
Glancing to the exit, I made to leave Jasper alone, when familiar fingers wrapped around mine again, and he whispered, “Stay.”
I knew I should leave. Everything in my body told me to go now while Jasper was drunk enough that he wouldn’t remember me being here. But when he squeezed my fingers again and whispered, “Please, Angel . . .” I was done for.
Rolling my lips together nervously, I sat back down beside Jasper and briefly closed my eyes when he laid his head against my shoulder. The heady scent of sandalwood and mint invaded my senses once more. But those notes were a balm to my soul, and I exhaled in defeat.
It was quiet in the barn, only the soft sighs of sleepy horses and crunching haylage to be heard.
Until . . . “Thank you for finding me tonight, Angel,” Jasper said, drowsily.
“I’m so bloody tired of being alone.” Not even understanding the context, just the tone of Jasper’s voice, was a stab to the heart.
“Always,” I said, and in minutes, I felt Jasper’s exhausted body slump harder next to mine and his breathing evened out into slow and steady breaths.
I stared straight ahead, Lady Aurelia sleeping in my direct view.
My heart was racing, and when I dared look down, it fired off into a fast sprint.
My hand was still in his, and he had clutched it to his chest like he would never let go.
I turned, trying my hardest to dislodge myself from his side.
But even in sleep, Jasper held on harder, and I had no choice but to stay still.
Glancing down, Jasper’s face, only minutes ago pained and broken, was now serene and still.
Taking a liberty, I ran my fingertips over his forehead, smoothing down the frown lines that broadcasted his pain.
I didn’t know what plagued him, but he clearly felt he was to blame for something and that he was failing someone—someone he clearly loved.
“What haunts you?” I let that question disperse above us into the dusty barn as Jasper fell deeper into sleep. And I kept watch. I didn’t know this man, but I would stay here for him tonight, allowing him to find some semblance of relief from whatever plagued him.
I blinked my eyes open, an unfamiliar barn coming into view. It took me several slow seconds to clear the fog from my brain and remember where I was. A low groan broke through my stupor, and I looked up to see Jasper Knighton asleep . . . and me draped over his body with my hand clasped in his.
Panic rushed through as potent as electricity, and as silently as I could, I rolled off Jasper, wincing as the morning winter sun flooded through the windows of the barn.
Shit, I thought, as I unthreaded my fingers from Jasper’s and he began to stir.
Getting to my feet, I barely glanced back as I made a grab for my Stetson and fled for the exit.
I had no idea what time it was, but I knew that I had fallen asleep on Jasper at some point last night, and it was only by the grace of God that I hadn’t been caught.
Lord! What would have happened if he’d awakened to find his newest rider sprawled all over him? I felt sick just imagining the embarrassment of that situation.
Opening the exit, I allowed myself one last look over my shoulder at Jasper.
He was slumped against the wall, my robe still blanketing his body.
I should have been panicking about leaving my coat, or any evidence that I’d been here, but I barely spared it a thought.
All I could see was Jasper’s still outstretched arm, palm upturned as though searching for the hand that had kept his company all night long.
My heart lurched and I thrust myself into the crisp morning air. The cold wind whipped around me, but I ignored the biting chill and began to run from the barn toward the cottage I had been given. From the man who had cried on my shoulder. I ran from the man who had slept in my arms.
But most of all, I ran from the man who had called me beautiful.
The one who had called me Angel.