“If you mind we don’t have to, it’s just … well, the last few years I’ve tried to do things with God’s help and … I think we need his help now.”
Nash’s heart raced. This woman was more amazing then he thought. “I like it. Would you mind saying it?”
She bowed her head. “Dear Lord, thank you for this day. Thank you for bringing Nash back into my life. Father, please help us figure this out and help us be safe. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.”
“Amen,” he said, feeling warm chills. “Thank you.”
CHAPTER 6
Sadie stared at her phone in frustration. The fifth call, and still no answers. She ended the call with the ranger station and tossed her phone onto Nash’s coffee table.
“No luck?” Nash asked, leaning against the kitchen doorway.
“None,” she sighed. “My contact at the Historical Society isn’t answering. Neither is anyone at the Mount Olympus Wilderness office who might have been able to tell us more about the Olympus Foundation’s property boundaries.” She’d been making calls all afternoon while Nash had been working on some legal briefs.
“We could still drive by,” Nash suggested. “Do a reconnaissance mission. No trespassing required.”
Sadie considered this. Her ankle was still tender from her fall in Provo Canyon, but at least the swelling had gone down a bit. “Good idea. Let me get my shoes.”
She pushed herself up from the couch, testing her weight gingerly on her injured ankle. It held. She’d only been at Nash’s home for a few hours, but already it felt more comfortable than her own apartment had in months.
“Ready?” Nash asked, grabbing his keys from the hook by the door.
“As I’ll ever be.”
They headed out the front door of Nash’s home.
Sadie felt conspicuous, like anyone watching would know she didn’t belong here—a feeling that had followed her since entering witness protection.
They were halfway down the front walk when it happened. Her injured ankle rolled on an uneven paving stone, and Sadie felt herself pitching forward.
“Ahh!” she cried out, falling to the ground. The pain was blinding, bringing frustrated tears to her eyes. “Oh, come on!”
Nash was beside her instantly. “Let me see.”
“Wait.” She held up her hand, breathing through the pain. After a moment, she attempted to stand, placing her hand on Nash’s shoulder for support. Her ankle buckled immediately, sending another shock of pain up her leg. “No,” she gasped. “Definitely not weight-bearing.”
Before she could process what was happening, Nash had scooped her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest, just like the day before.
“Put me down,” she protested weakly, even as her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck. “This is ridiculous.”
“It’s practical,” Nash countered, carrying her back toward the house. “And it’s becoming a habit, isn’t it?” He grinned.
She winced. “I don’t like this habit. I don’t like being the damsel in distress.”
Nash grunted. “Well, too bad, because you can’t walk. Plus, I like playing hero.”
The casual comment sent an unexpected flutter through her chest. She’d spent so many years handling everything alone, trusting no one. Having someone—having Nash—step in to help felt foreign. Dangerous, even. But also, somehow, right.
Inside, Nash gently deposited her on the couch and arranged pillows to elevate her leg. He turned on the stereo system, and soft country music filled the room.
“Ice,” he said decisively, heading to the kitchen. “And then I’ll call my brother Chance. His wife, Kelly, sprained her ankle pretty badly last year. He might have some advice.”
Sadie watched him move efficiently around the kitchen, filling a bag with ice and wrapping it in a dish towel. There was something mesmerizing about his confidence, the easy way he handled every situation. Nash Cross, the boy who never seemed rattled by anything.
“Here,” he said, returning with the ice pack and placing it carefully on her swollen ankle. “How’s the pain? Do you need ibuprofen?”
“Probably due for more.”
