Page 75 of Austin
“I don’t know.”
She did. Protective instinct was kicking in. Austin was a protector. It was the reason he wouldn’t sleep with her in the beginning.
She pulled in a long breath, swallowed again. “This is awful.” An inadequate description of her feelings, however, it was the best she could do. “How areyou?”
“I’ve been here before.”
Which didn’t answer her question. “Austin…?”
“Yeah?” There was a cautious note to his voice, as if he expected her to voice a demand or ask for a promise.
“Maybe I could drive down to Pueblo. Before I get caught up in other things.” Other things being the job she still hadn’t heard on, although her contact had called to tell her one candidate was definitely out of the running.
“I…”
Her stomach tightened when his voice trailed off. She’d expected him to give her an instant yes.
“I think it would be better if I see you in Marietta after Pueblo.”
Her stomach tightened. “You don’t want me to come?”
“Not right now.”
“Why?” Because everything had been fine between them a few days ago. Better than fine. It’d felt…right.
“It’s a long way to drive. I’ll be back in a week.”
“All right.” Not the answer she’d wanted or expected, but she could live with it. He was upset. He’d almost lost a friend tonight. He needed time to come to grips with the situation. “I’ll let you know if I land the job.”
“I’ll see you in a week.”
There was something in his tone that she found unsettling.
“See you then.” She ended the call before he did and leaned back against the pillows. Closed her eyes. Tried to get a handle on what had just happened. He was upset. And he wanted to be alone while he dealt with matters. She, of all people, the queen of withdrawal, should understand that.
Except she was working double hardnotto withdraw, and she expected Austin to do the same.
*
Austin dropped anarm over his eyes after Kristen ended the call. He shouldn’t have phoned her tonight. He could have waited until morning, but he’d wanted to hear her voice. To know that she was all right.
Why? He’d made it through many a rough spot in his life without hearing Kristen Alexander’s voice. He could have called his brother. Or his father.
No. His dad would have been all over him for a poor ride.
But Ty had been an option. He’d chosen Kristen and had essentially dialed on autopilot as soon as he got back to his room after leaving Melissa Kincaid was with her parents at the hospital. His gut feeling was that after Kelly recovered, he wouldn’t be married for long. Melissa kept muttering, “I can’t do this,” and when her parents arrived from Fort Collins, she’d fallen into her mother’s arms, sobbing as if her lungs were going to turn inside out.
Could he do that to Kristen?
That answer to that was an easy ‘no’. He never wanted Kristen to go through what Melissa Kincaid was going through, and as he lay staring up through the semi-darkness, the stitches in his head throbbing, he realized why he had called close to midnight—he was hoping to bring her to her senses.
What a chickenshit thing to do.To put the matter in her hands instead of handling it himself. Just as she’d accused him of doing when he wouldn’t sleep with her.
Until tonight, he hadn’t given a lot of thought as to how his profession might affect the people he cared for, other than in a logistical how-can-our-schedules-mesh way. He’d grown up riding rough stock, as had his father and his brother. His mother had been stoic about injuries—maybe because she’d seen so many. But Melissa Kincaid and Kristen Alexander had not grown up in the business. Broken bones and punctured lungs were not the norm.
He rolled over, pulling the sheet with him, closed his eyes, pictured Melissa’s pale, tear-ravaged face.
Who was he to put Kristen in that kind of a position?
