Texas Heroes_ Volume 1(112)

Mitch had been right. He would sport quite a sampling of bruises, but the layers of clothing she’d forced him to wear had protected him so that no skin was broken.

“I checked his pupils when we were down on the ledge. They were even and responded to the light. I couldn’t find any broken skin on his head.”

“I don’t feel any puffy places. I should probably make him wake up to be sure.”

“Yeah. Let’s see if he’ll eat some of that stew that smells so good. Then we can put him to bed. Kids are pretty resilient. Boone and I got caught jumping off the barn once, even farther than Davey fell. I decided I could fly and missed the hay I was aiming to hit. I saw stars for a while, but they never even had to take me to the doctor. But if you want, we can leave now and head to Pinedale. It’ll take us several hours, but we can get him looked at.”

She gnawed at her lip. “I don’t really want to get him out in the cold again, but…”

Then Davey stirred. “Mom? Mitch?” He sat up and looked around. “Wow, that really happened, didn’t it? You climbed down about a hundred feet and saved me!”

Mitch chuckled softly. “Not so far as all that.”

“I tried to grab onto that branch, but I slipped.”

“Did you hit your head when you fell?”

He shook his head. “No. I landed on my bottom. But then I felt kinda dizzy when I looked out over the edge, so I laid down real quick.”

“How do you feel now?” she asked.

“Kinda achy, like when I fell off the swingset last year, remember?”

Perrie smiled, relief seeping in. She turned to Mitch. “Davey has always had a real affinity for falling on his very hard head. So far nothing seems to have scrambled his brains.” She thought for a minute. “Let’s just keep an eye on him tonight.”

Mitch nodded, his face impassive again.

“Mom, I’m hungry,” Davey wheedled.

She pulled his shirt back over his head, feeling the laughter bubble up inside her. “So what’s new?” She straightened it around his middle and gripped his shoulders.

“You will never scare me like that again, right?”

He cut his glance over to Mitch. “Mitch already told me not to wander away. He said I should apologize, too.” Davey looked truly penitent. “I’m really sorry, Mom.”

She swallowed the lump that rose in her throat every time she thought of what a close call it had been. “We owe Mitch a very big thank you.”

Davey smiled and launched himself off the sofa into Mitch’s arms. “Mitch is the greatest, Mom. Didn’t I tell you?”

The sight of the big man cradling her son so close made Perrie ache for all that her son deserved and had never had, chief among them the love of a good man like this one.

She ached for the same thing. But she knew it wouldn’t happen. Mitch had made it amply clear that he lived alone. Free to drift.

She pushed to her feet to get away from the longing swelling up, threatening to burst free. “I’ll dish up some stew for all of us.”

On shaky legs, she moved across the room.





Chapter Ten





Perrie came out of the room she and Davey shared, wan and exhausted. She hesitated in the doorway as though disturbed by his presence.

“I can go in my room if you’d rather be alone,” he offered.

She shook her head quickly. “That’s not necessary.” But her steps were slow as she crossed the room, settling herself on the rug in front of the fire. Her movements were careful. Brittle as though she hovered close to breaking.

Mitch tried to give her the space she obviously needed, but his book couldn’t hold his attention. When he read the same sentence four times in a row, he finally looked up, about to ask if she wanted to play cards or something.

Even from the back, he could tell that she was holding herself together by a thread. Arms wrapped around her waist, her back curled like a protective shell, she shook with silent sobs.

He should let her be, stay away from temptation.

But he could not.

Mitch abandoned his book and picked her up, settling her on his lap and wrapping his arms around her, relieved when she didn’t resist.

“I just keep thinking about what would have happened if you hadn’t been here…” She stared into the fire, tears streaming from her eyes. One small, delicate hand dashed at the tears in vain, a persistent scrubbing that couldn’t stem the tide.

She was so valiant. So small yet so strong. It hurt him to see her this devastated.

“You would have figured something out.”

Perrie shook her head. “He could have died, and it would have been my fault.” A deep shudder wracked her fragile frame, and Mitch tightened his hold on her.