37. Chapter 37 – Rosalyn
We ended up staying an extra day before we left. Cade said he had last minute details to work out with Pete.
Whatever it was, he seems calmer now.
Our horses loaded easily, probably tired of being cooped up the last few days in the barn. Jokes on them, they’re going to be stuck in the trailer for a few more.
Petunia is used to riding though. And she acts like she’s best friends with Bessy too.
That’s a bonus.
“I can’t believe we’re actually going to Texas.” My knee has healed up enough that I can cross my legs on the seat to spread my book over my lap.
“I’m looking forward to some warm sun.” Cade presses his palms against the wheel, stretching as he drives.
We’ve been on the road a lot already and this trip has barely started.
“It’s seventy-nine in Paradise, Texas, as we speak.” I hold up his phone so he can see the app.
“And what is it here? Twenty?” He snorts. “No wonder my damn thigh is pissed at me.”
I’m getting used to holding his hand but haven’t ventured much past that, although a growing part of me wants to. “Do you want me to, um, I don’t know? Like, would a massage help?”
“I’m fine,” he says quickly. “It hasn’t killed me yet.” Except his wince almost looks pained.
I know what it feels like. The knots under the scars that never heal correctly. They tug and pull at nerve endings that never fall quiet.
I can only guess at the deep bone ache he suffers almost constantly. I wish I could take it away, even for a little while.
He’s done so much for me…yet the idea of rubbing my hands over his bare skin brings so much more than hope for his own comfort.
There’s a growing gnawing in my belly of wanting more than just the occasional brush of our hands or a hug. But I know he doesn’t want that from me.
Wouldn’t he have told me?
Heat rushes into my cheeks and spreads through my chest at the idea of him touching more of me.
Is that how it’s supposed to be? A deep void somewhere inside that is begging to be filled.
I just don’t know how.
I’ve seen glimpses at events, often behind the bleachers, of couples kissing, their hands roaming each other’s bodies and the passionate sounds that echo from between them.
Can I ever have that?
Does it feel as good as it seems?
I’m terrified to find out.
Turning the pages of my history text, I don’t comprehend the words in front of me. Instead my mind is racing with all of the ways I want to learn more from Cade, but don’t know how to ask.
I’m being stupid though. It’s barely been a week since Christmas?
He lost his parents.
He saved me. That doesn’t mean he wants me.
Not that I blame him. I’m broken in so many ways that I know it frustrates him.
We drive in silence while I pretend to read until he clicks on his blinker to pull into a wide spot on the interstate.
“I gotta stretch and check on the horses,” he groans as he slides out of the seat.
I catch a glimpse in the mirror of him leaning against the trailer with his leg pressed out backwards. Then he switches, a grimace tugging up the scars on his cheek before he limps towards the rear and disappears.
He’s in agony and I hate it.
Last year Petunia pulled a ligament in her hip and the veterinarian showed me how to work it out. I used the same technique on her shoulder.
I wonder if it would help Cade?
As dark starts to fall, he pulls us into a large parking lot of a hotel. “I’ll be back in a few.” He leaves me in the truck with the engine running to keep the heater blowing.
“Welp,” he says as he opens the door. “They’re almost booked out but I got us a room with double beds.”
“That’s okay. It makes me feel safer when you’re close anyway.” I grab my overnight bag and sling it over my shoulder then fall into step next to him.
When my fingers seek out his, he squeezes my palm and tugs me against him. “Me too.”
He tries to hide his limp as we walk across the frozen pavement, then he leans heavily on the rail in the elevator on the way to our room.
It’s not fair that he has to suffer from what my brother did to him. And he’s done so much for me, yet I haven’t done anything.
His bag drops by the foot of the far bed, then he shrugs out of his thick coat.
I catch his wince when he toes off his boots.
“Cade?” I don’t even know how to ask but find myself moving to him. “Please let me try to help?”
“Help with what?” He half-falls to sit on the mattress, his legs sticking out as he lies back onto the blanket.
“I know you’re in pain.”
Tossing his arm over his eyes, he lets out a long exhale. “I’m fine, Ros. Sitting all day in the truck just kicks my ass. When I’m up and moving it ain’t as bad.”
“Don’t we still have days of driving left?” My sneakers find a place next to the wall and I drape my jacket over the chair. “Will those pills you gave me do anything?”
He snorts without looking. “Kinda. It’s okay. I’ve been dealing with it a long time.”
I step close enough that my feet frame his. “Then you should let me try something.” When my palms wrap his knee, he jumps.
“No!” The forcefulness of his bark makes me recoil and sends a flame of embarrassment up my cheeks.
“I’m sorry.” I stagger back, bouncing off the cabinet under the TV, then rush into the bathroom and slam the door behind me.
Tears burn down my cheeks as I slink to the floor. I didn’t want to make him angry.
I’ve ruined everything.
“Ros?” His knuckles rap lightly against the wood. “I didn’t mean to yell, I’m sorry.”
“I shouldn’t have—” I take a shuddering breath. “—I only wanted to—” Another sob steals my words.
“I know.” He’s muffled through the hollow paneling. “I just…I didn’t want to scare you, and ended up scaring you. I feel like an ass.”
“I don’t understand,” I whimper, burying my face in my hands.
“I’m pretty shit at explaining. But I’ll be as honest as you want me to be.” His voice drops. “Although you’ll probably hate me by the time I’m done.”
I can hear his footsteps drift away, then the frame of the bed creaks.
Why would I hate him?
Curiosity has me smearing the tears from my cheeks and standing to hesitantly open the door.
The blue tips of his socks are pointing at the ceiling as I move around the corner. Then his jeans appear, his lean torso in his green flannel, then his arms threaded behind his head as he stares up towards the light.
“I don’t want you to be mad at me.” My butt teeters on the edge of my own mattress and I tuck my fingers between my knees.
“Ros.” He turns to look at me, his lips flat with pain. “I’m not. Just at myself.”
“What did I do wrong?” I just want to fix it. Desperately.
“Nothing,” he grunts. “Not a damn thing. You were trying to help.”
“Then…why?” My hand waves in a small circle towards him before pressing it back in place.
His chest rises and falls. “Sometimes when you touch me—” He clears his throat. “—I like it too much.”
The muscle of his jaw pops in a starburst pattern with every clench. “It makes my body react in ways I can’t control.” His Adam’s apple bobs with a hard swallow. “I didn’t want you to see that and think I was being a creep.”
“But what if I like it too?” My question is hushed for fear of what he’ll say.
With a growl, he pulls his arms up and runs his palms vigorously over his face. “No, Ros. This can’t be a thing. I would be the monster then.”
“Why?” I squeak. “Because I’m so broken no one should want me? I’m so naive I shouldn’t be taught?” My chin trembles.
“God, no. None of that.” When Cade looks at me, there’s a hollowness to his gaze. “I’m old enough to be your father and everyone would think I’m just taking advantage of you.”
A touch of anger flushes through me. “My whole life every decision has been made for me. You’re the one saying I get to own my choices, except this one? Why is it so crazy that I want the one person in the world who makes me feel good to make me feel better?”
He tilts his head, cracking one of his walnut colored eyes to fix on me. Then his arm falls flat and he gestures to me with two fingers. “Come here. Holding you makes me feel better.”
Fighting a sniffle, I crawl over to mold myself against him and settle into the hollow of his shoulder.
Then he pulls me tightly to his chest and knots his fingers in my hair to press his lips against my temple.
“I don’t want to be the person who loves you but hurts you,” he murmurs against my forehead.
“And I also don’t want to ever take advantage of you,” he sighs.
“That’s what this would be if anything happened between us. ”
My ribs feel like they’re being split open and my heart ripped out with his denial. “Okay.”