Texas Heroes_ Volume 1(74)

First to the chair hewn from logs, its handmade cushions calling like a siren. She could make it that far, surely. Perrie concentrated as though life hung in the balance. When she touched the back, she clung to keep from collapsing.

Where was Davey? Had the hard-eyed stranger grown tired of him and left? Davey knew nothing about the forest, nothing about mountains. He could fall, there were bears, he could be—

The front door opened with a gust of cool air. Davey raced inside, vibrating with excitement.

“Keep it quiet. Your mom—” The golden-eyed stranger broke off in mid-sentence.

Davey looked up from the bucket of freshly-cleaned fish he was holding. “Mom!” He dropped the bucket and came running, plastering himself to her side.

Perrie gripped him hard, stroking his hair and trying not to sink to the floor. Then she looked back at the man who filled the doorframe. Dark hair teased the collar of his red plaid flannel shirt, and his face was all hard planes and dark hollows. What little light had been in his eyes when he’d been looking at her son, vanished into stone when he looked at her.

“What are you doing out of bed?”

“I just need to—” She glanced toward the outside. The lack of amenities had been no big deal when she’d been a kid here with her grandfather. Explaining to a strange man was another matter.

He frowned, then understanding dawned. “Davey,” he ordered. “Go get your mom’s shoes and bring them here.”

“Okay, Mitch.” Davey obeyed instantly.

The man named Mitch set the fishing rod and tackle box by the door and crossed to her. Without a word, he scooped her up into his arms.

“I don’t need—”

“You’re about to pass out and you know it.” Over his shoulder, he spoke to her son. “Slip them on her feet. That’s right. Now stay here for a few minutes. I’m taking your mom around back.”

“Can’t she just go off the porch, too, Mitch?”

For a second so brief she could have imagined it, Perrie thought she saw laughter in the amber eyes. If only she weren’t so dizzy—

“No. Girls can’t go off the porch. Stay right here until we get back. You can help me cook the fish.”

“Okay!”

Relieved to hear only enthusiasm in her son’s voice, Perrie’s anxiety eased a little. He seemed good to Davey, firm but kind. She wished she knew how to thank him. She wished she weren’t so shaky.

She wished she knew why he hated her.

Then they were through the door and headed around the cabin.

Perrie tried to summon the energy to be embarrassed, but somehow he made it all matter-of-fact, setting her down and walking away until she emerged again. Then he scooped her back into his arms and headed around the cabin.

“Thank you,” she murmured, trying not to lean against his broad chest. It was a cruel taunt that she felt so safe in his arms. As her eyes drifted closed, against her cheek she felt hard muscle play beneath warm flannel. He smelled of forest and sunshine—and strong, healthy male. For a moment, Perrie wondered what it would be like to relax in this man’s care.

It didn’t matter. He despised her. Somehow, she had to find the strength to take charge, to make new plans.

They’d come so far, only to find everything lost. For so long, her only thought had been to make it to this place of safety, where Grandpa could help her figure out how to fight off Simon and his powerful family.

Maybe it had only been a nightmare. Perrie lifted a head that felt like it weighed ten tons. “I didn’t dream it? Grandpa Cy is really dead?”

The granite jaw tightened more. “What do you care?”

Perrie forgot about safety and comfort. She struggled to leave the arms of a man who could believe that she wouldn’t care about losing the finest man she’d ever known. Cyrus Blackburn had been rough as a cob and a man from the wrong century, but he’d had compassion and honor enough for a dozen men.

“Be still.” His arms tightened, trapping her. “We’re almost there.”

“Let me down. You don’t understand anything.” She wanted to explain about Simon, but she was too ashamed that she’d been so weak. She wanted answers from him about why he was here, about how Grandpa had died. About why he thought she wouldn’t care.

Her vision grayed as she struggled. She was so tired. So drained. Be quiet, Perrie. You don’t know if you can trust him. The only man you knew you could trust is dead. And she’d never had a chance to say goodbye.

“I understand that there’s a little boy in there who needs his mother to get well. Don’t be a fool.”

Perrie bit her lip hard. He was right. All that mattered was being able to take care of Davey. She would grieve in private. This man would not believe her tears, anyway.