Page 23 of Mountain Summons

“You had a hell of a night.”

Silence settled between them for a few minutes, broken only by the hum of the engine. Lena let her eyes drift closed, but her mind refused to quiet.

“There’s something I don’t get,” she finally said.

Tristan glanced at her. “What’s that?”

“The skeleton.” She turned to face him fully. “The body looked like it was embedded in the rock.”

He nodded, his jaw tightening. “Yeah. Maybe a landslide sealed it in.”

“And it took another landslide to uncover it. That’s …” She trailed off, struggling to find the right word.

“Creepy?” he supplied.

She huffed a quiet laugh. “I was going to say fascinating, but yeah. Creepy works too. I can’t wait to go through the photographs I took.”

Tristan hesitated, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “I know you’re curious. And I get it. But maybe you should take a break from thinking about all of that, at least until you’ve had a chance to rest.”

Lena tilted her head. “You think I’m obsessing?”

“I think you’ve been through a lot in the last twenty-four hours.”

They pulled onto her father’s street a few minutes later. Before she could protest, Tristan was out of the car, retrieving her crutches and opening her door.

“You don’t have to—” she started.

“Please. Let me walk you inside. I want to make sure you don’t face plant before you get through your door.”

Her lips twitched. “How very chivalrous of you.” With an exaggerated sigh, she let him help her out. The cold air bit at her cheeks as she balanced on her crutches, but she ignored it. Just a few more steps, and then she’d be home.

Tristan walked beside her, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. Once again, he stayed close but didn’t hover, letting her set the pace. The steps up to the front porch were the hardest. She’d never run a marathon, but this was what she imagined those last few steps must feel like.

“It’s open,” she said, when she finally made it up. “My father never locks it.”

He pressed his lips into a tight line as he opened the door. “Really?”

“Well, thank you for—“ She didn’t complete the sentence, because Tristan was already inside with her. He shut the door, with both of them inside.

“Uh … What are you doing?”

“I’d prefer to stay until I know you’re comfortable,” he said. Not asking. Just telling her. And proceeded to take off his jacket, hanging it up by the entrance.

Lena looked up at him, lost somewhere between irritation and desire. She couldn’t help looking at his strong, capable hands. Hands that had saved her life last night. His muscled forearms. Forearms that could lift her and?—

Comfortable. Nothing about Tristan made her feel comfortable. Not before, and certainly not now.Not ever. She balanced on her crutches carefully—the last thing she wanted to do was face-plant on the wooden floor—and took a small step towards him.

He stayed very still, but the flickering pulse on his neck told her he wasn’t unaffected. She tilted her head slightly, her eyes lingering on a faint scar at the base of his throat. She’d never noticed it before.

“I appreciate the concern,” she murmured, “but I think I can manage.” Her father had asked him to bring her home, and that’s exactly what he’d done. It wouldn’t be fair to ask more than that of him.

Tristan’s jaw tightened, his eyes flickering over her face. “I’ll just help you to the couch,” he said. “Then I’ll go.”

Lena swallowed hard and turned away before she did something stupid—like lean into him. “Fine,” she said. “Couch. Then you go.”

They moved slowly across the polished wooden floor, the soft creak of the house settling around them.

When they reached the couch, she lowered herself carefully, exhaling a soft breath of relief as her weight went off her leg. She wasn’t about to admit how much her entire body ached.

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