He grinned, even as he carefully removed a pebble from under the skin of her index finger. “That was the easy part. His neighbors were pretty angry since the fire headed for their homes. They lucked-out though. The wind shifted.” He took another rag, carefully folding it over her fingers. “Make a soft fist to hold this in place while I work on your other hand.”
She did as he instructed then held out her right hand. “Did the wind shift back?”
In hind sight, he wished it had. “No, it moved through Prescott National Forrest northward for days until it threatened a group of homes when it shifted suddenly to the east.” He hadn’t thought about the fire in detail since his nightmares had stopped, yet he could see everything in his mind as if it were yesterday. Lucky him.
He switched his focus to her hand and wetting another rag, gently cleaned away the dirt. He jerked as he felt the brush of the back of her hand on his right arm.
“Does it hurt?”
He closed his eyes for a moment at the incongruity of the situation. She was the one with fresh wounds, but she took her injuries in stride as if she expected them. Opening his eyes, he finished cleaning her little finger. “No. I’m just not used to anyone touching me. It’s not a pretty sight.”
Riley moved her gaze from Garrett’s arm to his hands where he gently tended to her. There was far more to this firefighting cowboy than she’d realized. She’d been so caught up in trying to keep her inner scars from showing, she hadn’t recognized he might have his own scars, and from his reaction, he wasn’t happy about them.
She looked at his face, silently urging him to meet her gaze. “When was the last time someone touched your arm?”
He shook his head. “I don’t remember. Probably my last physical therapy session.”
Physical therapy? For burn scars? She jerked her gaze back to his arm. Were they that bad? The light was diffused and gray, but she could clearly see the bumps and patches that may have been skin grafts. “Was it just your arm?”
He lay another cloth over her left hand. “Make a soft fist.”
As she did as he instructed, she waited for him to answer her question. When he rose instead and put what was left of their water back on her rock shelf, it was clear he didn’t plan to. “That must have been painful. I had soldiers in my first unit who’d been on the wrong side of an IED. Their pain was excruciating until we could get them to a surgical team. Both times I wished they’d pass out, but they didn’t.”
She paused as she remembered her first deployment and seeing both men at the base after she was sent home. “When I returned stateside, one had gained a prosthetic leg and a newborn son. The other had lost his hand, and a chunk out of his thigh, but he was doing okay. He was in school training for a new job. Something in cyber security.”
Garrett, who was usually the talker, remained eerily uncommunicative. Instead, he returned to his sleeping spot and turned out the light.
Guess they all had their scars to contend with. He’d obviously healed and functioned better than she did. She had to respect that. Laying down, she started to roll on her side to face the wall and froze.
What if morning came and she was digging again? Grasping the soft clothes in her hands, she rolled to her other side to face Garrett. Based on his breathing, he was definitely not asleep. She really should soldier-up, but as she’d learned in bootcamp, her unit was only as strong as the weakest member, and right now that was her. As much as she hated it, she had to ask for help.
“Garrett, can you do me a favor?”
“Yes.”
His immediate, unconditional response made her smile. The imp in her wanted to ask for something outrageous like a bowl of apple-cinnamon ice cream or for him to have sex with her. Her humor vanished. And what if he agreed…to the sex part. She hadn’t been intimate with anyone in two years. It was tempting, especially with him. Not only was he a good-looking cowboy, but he was a good man, a hero, which made it all that more outrageous. She was anything but.
“What do you need?” His voice in the dark had softened as if he wanted to coax her to trust him.
She already did, implicitly. She hadn’t trusted anyone since she left the service.You haven’t gotten close enough to, you idiot.That’s because getting close means making a connection.
Connections to people just ended up causing pain. It was better alone. Yet, she and Garrett needed each other in this particular situation. Her father had always said,trust your team. Survival is in the team.Taking a deep breath, she finally spoke. “Will you hold my hand?”
She couldn’t quite bring herself to explain why. To admit she’d do more damage to herself was too big a leap. It exposed her weakness too blatantly.
“Of course. I’ve laid mine on the rail. You find it with your hand. I don’t want to do more harm by searching for yours in the dark.”
Yup, definitely the hero type. Relieved that he understood or didn’t but didn’t ask why, she searched out his hand with her own. She found his palm facing up on the rail, it’s rough, scarred surface warm against her own palm. She hadn’t held anyone’s hand for more than a handshake in so long. So long, she didn’t remember. But it felt good, plus it had the benefit of keeping her locked facing the rail and not the wall.
When he’d begun to make his “bed” right next to hers, she hadn’t been happy, wanting her space, wanting to be alone. Now, she was glad he did. No matter what she wanted, what she needed was to accept that they were a unit until they escaped from the mine. After that, they could simply go their separate ways.
Listening to his breathing, she risked one more question. “Did you happen to see what time it was?”
“Yes, it’s just after four. No reason to get up yet.” He gave her hand a small squeeze as if to say she needed more sleep.
He was right, she did. Squeezing his hand in silent agreement, she closed her eyes and focused her mind on the last brilliant sunset she’d witnessed, the reds and oranges streaking across the sky as they danced to celebrate the dying day.
~~*~~
