20
Molly woke in the dark of night from fractured nightmares, but Cord's warm hand in hers soothed her back to sleep. His murmured words reminded her she was at the No Name and safe.
It was late when she woke up. Bright sunlight streaming through the window illuminated Cord's framed picture, the one that had previously housed that awful newspaper article, which she'd re-wrapped after loading it with pictures.
She let her eyes linger on it as the last vestiges of sleep fell away.
She was glad to be out of the hospital after two and a half days. They'd released her yesterday. It had taken far too long for them to finalize her paperwork, and she and Cord hadn't arrived at the No Name until late in the evening. She’d been wiped out and gone straight to bed.
She made her painful way to sitting, let her legs hang off the side of the bed. She tried to gather the remaining willpower to stand. Her ribs ached. Her side ached. They'd casted her wrist, and it ached too.
The crash was a blur, but she thought she could remember hitting the steering wheel with her midsection. Her truck was so old it didn't have airbags. She was lucky she hadn't been hurt worse.
The house was quiet. She knew that, after a few days of being away, Cord would need to check on the stock. He'd told her that Iris and Jilly were taking care of things in his absence, but he'd want to see for himself on this first morning back.
Having some time to herself was a good thing, she told herself. She needed to figure out where she stood with the enigmatic rancher. He hadn't kissed her again since that first passionate embrace the morning before Toby had shown up.
Not once during the long hours in the hospital.
They'd mostly watched renovation shows on TV, where he critiqued the work other builders were doing, making her laugh.
Last night, she'd thought for sure he would kiss her goodnight. He'd helped her up the stairs and down the hallway, waited while she'd run through a quick shower, her first since the accident.
When she'd padded back into the hall, he'd told her he had to lock up and make a phone call, so he'd say goodnight in the hallway. He held her close, her face nestled into the hollow of his throat.
When she had leaned back slightly, anticipating a kiss, he'd only pressed one to the crown of her head and left her to go to bed.
Had he had a change of heart? What if he thought that, when she’d gone to the hardware store, she was trying to leave him?
She needed to explain. She didn't like things unsettled between them.
She wanted to know where she stood.
He'd joked in the hospital about proposing but never brought it up again.
Hadit been a joke?
Getting downstairs was a chore. Each step either jostled her broken rib or pulled at the stitches where the surgeons had removed the bullet. She clung to the banister.
When she hit the landing, the thought that had been nagging her subconscious materialized. Maybe it had slipped through her consciousness in the middle of the night, while she'd been wrestling with nightmares. Or maybe she'd just had to recover to this point before she remembered.
She saw her phone plugged into a charger on the kitchen counter and crossed to it. Tapped the screen to wake up the display, and her fears were confirmed.
She'd lost a day somewhere in the hospital.
It wasTuesday.
She was in the mudroom, struggling into her right boot, fighting both the pain and the tears in her eyes, when the back door opened with a rush of cold air.
Cord was there, his expression showing how surprised he was to have almost stumbled onto her.
"Whoa. Hey." His hands closed over her shoulders, and he nudged her out of the way, her boot dropping to the floor as he got the back door closed.
Standing up straight relieved the most pressing pain, and she blinked back her tears, praying he wouldn't see.
"What are you doing?" he asked. He brushed her hair off the side of her face, and she knew he saw too much.
"I never finished the tractors," she said.
