Taking a chance, I set a hand on Rex’s arm, hoping it would break through the terror that tremored through his body. Muscles twitching. Jaw clenching. “Hey...she’s okay. She’s okay. She didn’t fall far. It was just an accident. She’s okay. It’s okay.”
He didn’t respond. He just shifted and climbed to standing, keeping her cradled in his arms. His cautious movements seemed at complete odds with the intimidating power of his stance, with the almost vicious steps he took when he headed straight for the trail.
Unsure of what to do, I rushed and grabbed Milo’s leash where he’d scampered just off the trail. I followed close behind, surprised when Rex headed directly for his truck instead of going back to the picnic spot.
He loaded Frankie in her booster seat, peppering a bunch of kisses on her forehead and murmuring, “We’re going to get you checked out, baby girl. You’re fine. I promise, you’re fine.”
He said it as if he were trying to convince himself.
Still, he said absolutely nothing to me when I slid into the cab.
He turned over the engine. It roared to life. We rode in silence back in to town, tension wound tight as the truck jostled back over the crude path. He drove straight to the emergency room where we’d taken Frankie that night weeks ago.
Somehow, it felt as if years had passed since that night.
So much had changed in such a short amount of time.
Rex killed the engine. Silence descended, so thick it stole the air. I could almost feel the magnitude of the breath Rex inhaled as he stared through the windshield at the ER sliding doors. His gaze remained trained on that spot when he finally spoke. “Told you before I don’t take chances.”
I reached out, hand trembling as I set it on his forearm. Corded, sinewy muscle flexed, bunching and straining beneath the tanned skin and tattoos that wound down his arm.
“It’s about taking the right ones, Rex.”
He swallowed. My eyes traced the tremor of his throat, my gaze going soft when he looked over at me.
There was something there.
A plea.
The man begging me for understanding.
Togetit.
I thought maybe he was waiting on me to run. To spook. To leave him like the woman who was supposed to be Frankie’s mother.
In that second, I hated her a little more.
I nuzzled the top of Milo’s head. “Take her inside. I’m going to call Nikki and see if she can pick up Milo, then I’ll be in.”
I’m not going anywhere.
A reluctant, disbelieving smile pull to one side of his mouth. The man so brilliant and good it wasn’t fair that all that life was hidden behind whatever had beaten him down.
“Okay,” he said.
He hopped out and unbuckled Frankie, and when I looked back at them from over my shoulder, Rex was pulling his daughter into his arms, her head on his shoulder.
She stretched her little fingers toward me.
I did the same.
Our fingertips met.
A flash of energy.
That connection profound.
“I’ll be right in, Sweet Pea,” I promised through a murmur.
