8
The next morning, Cord almost stepped on Molly on the floor of the mudroom.
It was a good thing he'd flicked on the light and caught a glimpse of her sleeping curled around the dog, both of them wedged on the dog bed in the tiny space.
She came awake instantly, and he saw the panic flare in her eyes momentarily before it cleared.
She sat up and pushed her sleep-tousled hair out of her face.
He had to work really hard to ignore her wrinkled T-shirt and the plaid flannel pants she wore as pajamas.
"What are you doing?" he demanded.
"Napping." Awareness sparked between them, and he couldn't help but notice the flush climbing in her cheeks.
"You can't sleep in the mudroom." Maybe the words were a little sharp, but geez Louise. There was a draft coming in under the back door. Fixing the door frame had gotten pushed low on his priorities list.
She stood, careful not to look at him. "Hound is warm."
She slipped past Cord to go into the dark kitchen. The weatherman had predicted another ice storm today, and he'd gotten up early to feed the cattle before it hit. He'd left all the lights off, thinking she was asleep upstairs in West's bedroom. Now she flipped on the light and went to the coffee maker.
Hound is warm.
She'd had one arm wrapped around the mutt, who now nosed at the door, wanting outside. He let the dog out, getting a cold blast of wind in the face.
He turned right back to the kitchen, determined that she listen to him. "You can't sleep in the mud room," he repeated.
She had her back to him as she scooped coffee into a new filter.
"Hound helps me sleep," she said simply. As if it was a done deal and she didn't care what he said.
How desperate had she been to catch some sleep with the dog, to sleep on its cushion?
He was in over his head. His gut churned. "If you have trouble sleeping, what about some medication? Something herbal, maybe."
She gave him a sharp look. "No, thanks."
He shook his head. "You're not sleeping in the mud room. And the dog isn't coming inside."
She faced him head-on, but he'd crossed his arms over his chest. Her hands went to her waist.
"I—"
"Notsleeping in the mud room." This wasn't up for discussion. She would have to adjust to sleeping upstairs. It was too cold down here. Not to mention unsanitary.
Over the past two days, she'd used the parts Rick had found them to get one of the tractors, a sixties-era Deere, running. It still needed a paint job, but she was making good progress. Maybe she was working all hours of the day to keep her mind off her ordeal. He wasn't going to argue with her while he'd spent hours working on the fence. He couldn't afford to have the cattle escape again.
Her shoulders drooped. "Fine." She moved through the kitchen and upstairs. He doubted she would go back to bed, so she was probably getting ready for the day.
"You should bring whatever you're working on inside," he called up the stairs. The storm meant she wouldn't be able to work outside today.
And gave Cord an excuse not to find out where Noah lived and go to visit him. Since seeing Jilly at the swap meet, his former friend had been heavy on his mind. Would Noah even talk to him? Doubtful.
He'd work on tearing out the rotted wood in the barn. The drafty building would at least be warmer than working outside. He hadn't had the guts to start on the house yet.
His memories pressed on him in every room. Grandma Mackie's voice griping at him.You failed that math test? Failing now, gonna grow up a failure. Just like your dad.
He'd been an average student. She'd ridden him hard. West, too.
