Page 29 of The Way Back Home
Instantly alert, he sat up. The ice pack was gone. The extra pillow he’d given her was now back on his bed.
“Fuck,” he muttered, rubbing a hand down his face.
When had she left, and how the hell hadn’t he heard her? He should have expected this. Of course, she’d have second thoughts. He would, in her situation.
He should have put something in front of the door—like maybe his bed. That way, he could have tried to talk her down before she bolted.
A soft click at the door had him whipping around. The door opened slowly. Teagan slipped inside, juggling a cardboard drink tray and a paper bag.
“Hey, you’re awake,” she said as she hobbled in and held up her hands. “I got us breakfast.”
He stared at her, the flood of relief rendering him temporarily mute.
She gave him a knowing smile, but there was sadness in her eyes as well. “You thought I’d bolted, didn’t you? Oh, ye of little faith. Though I guess I can’t blame you. Breakfast burritos,” she said, shaking the brown paper bag. “Egg and cheese with sausage or bacon, your choice. I got two of each.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” he said, his voice still rough with sleep—and possibly something else. Surely, it had nothing to do with the warm, light feeling in his chest that had bloomed the moment she stepped over the threshold.
“I know.” She set the food and coffee down, then sank into the chair with a quiet groan. “You don’t have to do everything you’re doing either, but here we are.”
“How do you feel?”
“Better.” She took a sip of coffee and scrunched her nose. “Not as good as yours, but it’s hot and caffeinated.”
“Give me five,” he said, rising and heading toward the bathroom.
“Take your time.” She smiled patiently and unwrapped a burrito. “I told you, I’m not going anywhere.” The “yet” she tacked on to the end was barely audible as he closed the door behind him.
Their trip across Ohio was uneventful. Traffic was on the heavier side, with lots of people traveling for the holiday. Conversation was minimal, which suited him just fine. He was deep in his own thoughts about how the next few days were going to go, and he figured she was doing the same. The silence was both comfortable and companionable, like they were both okay with where things were, and wasn’t that a vast improvement?
And, if he was honest, he liked her company.
He wasn’t going to overthink it.
There wasn’t much to look at outside the vehicle. The landscape was held in the barren embrace of winter, the palette dominated by black, brown, and gray, with piles of dirty plowed snow outlining the highway. The sky turned whiter and grayer as the miles piled up behind them, suggesting more snow was on the way. They might even have a white Christmas. He hoped they did. If he was going to give her a traditional holiday experience, fresh powder was a must.
He glanced at Teagan, as he had so often. It wasn’t exactly a hardship—especially when she caught him looking and gave one of those slow, relaxed smiles before returning her gaze to the window.
It was about halfway across Pennsylvania that he began to notice a change. There was a subtle tension in her body language that hadn’t been there before. She might simply be subconsciously picking up cues from him. The closer they got, the less relaxed he felt. Facinghis family wasn’t going to be easy, and despite Teagan taking some of the pressure off him, her presence could result in misunderstandings.
North. East. Back to north. They exchanged one interstate for another, driving past dormant patchworked farms, through the huge passes blasted out of the solid rock mountains with curtains of frozen crystal waterfalls draped cascading down the sides. It was at once stark and beautiful, filling him with a sense of familiarity and foreboding at the same time.
Teagan hadn’t said anything for the last hour. When he looked over, she appeared to be deep in thought.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
“You never told me where home is for you,” she said as they passed the exit for Shadow Ridge.
He had cousins there, though he hadn’t seen them in years. Annual family reunions were something he’d avoided since coming back.
“Northeast PA,” he finally said. “My family has a place in the mountains outside of Sumneyville.”
“Sumneyville,” she murmured.
“Never heard of it, right? Most people haven’t.” He glanced her way again. Her lips were thin, her brow furrowed. “It’s a nice place though, if you like small towns. Scenic, especially around Christmas, in a Norman Rockwell kind of way. My family owns and operates a large farmers market there.”
She made a soft, unintelligible noise.
“Have you ever been up this way before?” he prompted.
