Page 11 of Cowboy's Last Stand
“You should report him for harassment,” Jason said.“You might be able to get a restraining order.”
An image of Billy’s sneering mouth came to mind.Even if she filed a formal complaint, who would do anything about it?Certainly not his father.She had personal reasons for not wanting to call his brother, Wade.Jason’s street justice would have to be enough.“His father’s the sheriff, remember?”
“I remember.”
She didn’t want to talk about Billy, so she changed the subject.“Why do you like to sleep outside?”
His dark eyes became hooded.This was an uncomfortable topic for him.Instead of withdrawing her question, she waited for his answer.He took the ice away from his forehead.“I was injured overseas.”
“Where overseas?”
“Afghanistan.”
She drew in a sharp breath.Almost two years after Mike’s death, the name of the place still haunted her.Not that she could avoid mentions of armed service or war zones.They lived twenty miles from one of the largest military bases in the country.“My husband was killed in action in Kabul.”
“I’m sorry,” he said in a formal tone.
“You’re in the military?”
“Marines.”
Mike had been a Marine.She softened toward Jason even more.
“I’ve been on medical leave since I got back to the States,” Jason said.“I have issues with enclosed spaces.I don’t like to be indoors for too long, and…” He broke off, clearing his throat.“I can’t sleep under a roof.I have nightmares.The tent is OK.It has a skylight.But I prefer open air.”
She studied his tense features.He’d skipped over an important part.“Did your injury involve an enclosed space?”
“Yes.”
He didn’t elaborate, but she’d heard enough.He was an enlisted man struggling to recover from trauma.She was honor-bound to help him.Satisfied, she gathered her supplies.“You can sleep out here if this is open enough for you.It’s dry.”
He nodded in agreement.“All right.”
She paused before heading inside.“I want to make something clear.My son is the only man in my life.”
He smiled as if he found her pronouncement endearing instead of discouraging.
“I mean it,” she said.
“I believe you.”
“Tomorrow, you have to move on.”
“Of course,” he said, his smile fading.
His gaze held hers for several seconds, and she got the strange feeling that she knew him.It was an unsettling sensation, like a long-forgotten dream or a memory from another life.She glanced away, troubled.“Do you need a blanket?”
“I have my sleeping bag.”
She scanned the glider, which was well-cushioned but probably not long enough to accommodate his rangy form.She didn’t offer him a pillow or anything else.Lingering out here to discuss sleeping arrangements seemed too intimate, too risky.Her skin prickled with awareness.She realized, with a jolt, that she was tempted to invite him in.It had been a rough night, and he seemed like the kind of man who could show a woman a good time.The urge to fall into his arms was overwhelming.
She wanted to feel something.She wanted to feel whole again.
He examined her with blatant interest, as if he could read her mind.She thought he might say the words out loud and offer to take her to bed, but he didn’t.
“Good night,” she said and fled temptation.
Chapter Four
