Chapter 36

They got to Amy’s cabin, the light still on outside, and went in.

He looked around while she turned soft lamps on, and was struck with how different her place was from his. Both small cabins, but there the similarity ended. Hers was modern, full of tall windows, soothing and bright colors splashed together, while his was old. Old as the hills, with small windows, worn furnishings. But the biggest difference was the atmosphere.

Here, he’d walked into peace. It was in the air, in the gentle hum of the under-the-cabinet fluorescent light it seemed like she never turned off, that cast a soft glow on the darkened kitchen. In the quiet furnishings, so pleasing to the eye. Nothing ostentatious, just gracious, and yes, gentle.

Waiting to serve those who came here.

Her place simply bespoke peace.

She tossed her keys into a bowl. “I’ll set you up upstairs. There’s a small bathroom up there too. You won’t need to come down for anything, unless you want to.”

“I thought your bed was upstairs?” She’d run upstairs, just a few hours ago, to get changed. “There are two bedrooms up there?”

She shook her head. “It’s okay. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Upset coursed through him. “No, I’m not putting you out of your own bed. I’ll…”

Let alone the thought of sleeping in her bed? That horrified him.

Her sheets, her pillow. Her scent, all over everything…

“You look like hell. You need a few good hours, at least. That bed up there is memory foam, and it’s heaven. You’ll wake up a new man.”

“I’m afraid the world will just have to make do with the man I am. Not that that’s such a prize, but just the way it is.”

“I didn’t mean that, just…”

He smiled. “Now it’s my turn to say—don’t apologize. I know what you meant. And thank you for the gesture, but in case you’ve forgotten, I’m the guy. I’ll sleep down here on your couch —which incidentally, looks amazing—and all will be fine. More than fine. Thanks, Amy.”

She nodded, and suddenly, there was no more argument.

How come it was so easy with her? Why didn’t she judge him like others did? He passed his hand over his hair, then winced as the tenderness over one of the beaten-up patches hurt. Ow. It would take a few days for that to go away. And this last time he’d been particularly hard on himself, though before that, it had been years since he’d resorted to the old, childhood behavior. He knew, vaguely, some would say he was hard on himself. And the thought came to him.

Why didn’t she judge him like he judged himself?

And if he got any sleep tonight, with her just upstairs, warm, soft, it was going to be a miracle.

She stood by the pale wooden staircase that led upstairs, her hand on the funky, painted metal banister. “Fridge is stocked, all yours. Help yourself.”

“Thanks, Amy. And by the way, just so you know, you don’t look like hell. You look amazing. As always. Even in the middle of the night. Now get yourself to your bed, and I’ll take care of myself down here. Okay?”

She blinked, then a smile appeared on her face. “Okay, boss.”

And she turned, padded off up the staircase, leaving him in his domain—for now.

* * *

Something woke her. First, it was Prince’s whining. Then she rose on her elbow, listened.

Grabbing her housecoat, she flew down the stairs, just in time to catch Nathan on the couch, his arms splayed as he tossed from side to side. An edge of the blanket slipping off him caught the seafarer’s chest serving as a coffee table in front of the couch, clipped an endless knot design on it and sent it flying.

In moments she was beside him, kneeling on the carpet. “Nathan.”

“No. No, no, no.” His voice was sleep-subdued, but the last word had been a cry. And he hadn’t woken.

His brow was furrowed, his face twisted, and she caught the shine of fresh tears at the corner of his eye.

She worried about waking him. What was the correct procedure?

Carefully, she placed her palm gently at the side of his face.

She saw the sudden query in his face, his eyes still shut. Then it was like realization dawned. The furrows disappeared slowly, and his hand came out from under the blanket and covered hers.

It just lay there for a long minute, his fingers still.

Was he memorizing the shape of her hand, the shape of kindness, locking it away for a future time when he was alone again?

She knelt there, breathless. Just being with him, in his moment. Letting him drive what was going on. She settled back on her feet, made herself comfortable.

But her hand didn’t leave his face, the now possessive clutch of his fingers.

She was tired. She needed sleep. A bit more, at least. There was a bit of space beside him on the couch, where she could rest her head.

She nestled into that space, right above his shoulder, placed her face on the pillow. Started to breathe deep, felt her hand slip.

Then felt him grasp it, hold it tight.

And they fell asleep, the moonlight washing in over their figures, the stalwart dog laying at their sides.

* * *

The dreams had eased.

They didn’t show up always. So when they did, it was a fresh personal affront.

But incredibly, something had eased him and when he’d stuttered his eyes open, he’d seen reddish hair, felt its softness.

She was sleeping. He saw, felt their fingers entwined. God. This woman for whom money was no object, who could afford whatever she wanted, with incredible resources and a tight knit, loving, family…

…was choosing to sleep on the floor, essentially, by a man she’d just met who was having a freaking nightmare he couldn’t control. Again.

He stared at her, took in her face, the bedroom-messy strands of her hair that covered the pillow, formed a gentle lacy network on her face. He reached over, brushed her cheek.

“Nathan?” She didn’t open her eyes, just murmured.

And something swelled in his chest. Even in the midst of dreams, she knew where she was. Whom she was with.

He couldn’t help the tender smile. “Amy.”

She opened her eyelids, blinked. “Hey.”

And all he could do was stare at her as she added the further question. “You okay?”

A simple question, a not-so simple answer.

I am, this moment.

“Any news about Ryker?”

She shook her head, still on his pillow. “No.”

“You’ve got to get some sleep.” He deigned to touch her cheek, super quickly with his crooked finger, then withdrew it just as quick. “You’re a sweetheart. But…go. Back to bed.”

He saw the surprise in her face as he did that. So she wasn’t all in control, like she looked. He had an effect on her. Good to know. “You’ll be able to get back to sleep? Was I noisy, or…something?”

“A bit. Prince noticed and I came down to check on you. How long have we…oh. About twenty minutes.”

“Well, I’m not going to disturb you anymore.” He sat up, looked around for his jacket. “I’ll go out, sleep in my car. Hell.” He snorted. “Your car. That way I won’t wake you. Okay? I’ll need your keys though.”

“Nathan.”

Her tone stopped him cold. “What?”

“Do you honestly think I’ll be able to sleep with you out in the night, after what you’ve been through? What we’ve both been through?”

It shattered his toughness. “Aw hell, Amy. I just don’t want to be waking you up.”

“Then I have another solution. Come to bed with me.”

At his shocked look, she interjected. “Good god, I don’t mean that. I mean…sleep. S-l-e-e-…whatever. It’s too late to be spelling. But I’m not the type of girl that begs men to sleep with her. Believe it or not, I actually don’t need to.”

And then he felt like an idiot. “Of course, you don’t.”

He was gesturing and she grabbed his hand, held it in mid-air. “You’ve got some nasty stuff going on right now. I’ve been there, will be there again. Everyone is. And tonight, I’m worried about Ryker too. So—is there a solution that can give both of us some peace until we hear from Doc tomorrow? Something that makes sense, where neither one of us is…suffering needlessly?”

“You’re right.” He got up off the couch, kept a firm grip on that hand. “Let’s go.”