Jo snuggled under her blanket, trying to get warm. Lying sideways on her couch, she was too tired to get up and turn her space heater up higher. She rested her head listlessly on the arm of the sofa, trying to stop shivering. She should have just stayed in her truck. It would have been easier to keep warm.

She had spent Christmas Eve towing cars that wrecked, thanks to the sudden snowstorm that the forecasters had said would miss them. She had stayed out on the roads until the wrecks had been cleared.

Fighting exhaustion until the snow had stopped, with the beginning of the flu, she had come home, determined to get a few hours’ sleep before she was called out again. Hopefully, everyone had gotten to where they were going and stayed there until the weather cleared.

Shivering harder, she started to cough. Her full bladder had her braving the cold room, moving out from her cocoon.

Swaying, she had to rest her hand on the back of the couch as a spasm of coughing overtook her.

Placing the back of her hand to her forehead, she felt the heated warmth of a high temperature.

Finally, she gained momentum to make it to the bathroom.

Turning on the bathroom heater, she took a shower, trying to lower her fever. Getting out, she put on her favorite flannel pajamas and her mother’s old robe.

In her bedroom, she found a thick pair of socks, and a thicker blanket and a pillow.

She flipped her space heater on high and curled back down on the couch, tucking the blanket close to her face, she sniffled into it, feeling miserable.

She wondered what Rider was doing. After the night she had kissed him, he had been trying repeatedly to invite himself on her tow runs. That had been over a month ago. However, she had refused his offers, as well as the many invitations that Rachel and Winter had issued.

The hardest invitation she had refused was from Lily, who had wanted her to come for dinner to meet her new baby, who they had named Clint. The adorable baby in the pictures that Lily had texted her had her aching to hold him.

“Clint looks just like Shade and John. Please come, Jo.”

Jo had made the excuse that she wasn’t feeling up to the weather and didn’t want to expose the baby to her germs. God was punishing her for lying.

Her sniffles and another round of coughing had her sitting up and reaching for the cough syrup that was as old as she was. Shaking it, she saw that the black goo was so thick she could see clumps dancing inside it. She would rather take the coughing than drink that. Besides, it was probably a cold. She would feel much better after she got some sleep.

Jo had no time for being sick. Aly had kept her promise to take her to court for the money her father had owed. The official letter was still sitting on her coffee table, where she had left it to motivate her. She only had until January fifth to pay the outstanding balance. If it wasn’t paid, a lean would be placed on the property, or worse. The judge could order her father’s property be sold to pay the money back.

Reaching for a pen and paper, she wrote out her expenses, cutting and slashing what she could to come up with the money.

Tired, she closed her eyes. She tried to force them open until she could tabulate the columns of numbers. However, the pencil slowly slid from her grasp as both pencil and paper fell to the floor.

* * *

Jo whimpered in her sleep, feeling like she was on fire. She kicked her foot out to kick the thick covers off.

“Shh … Go back to sleep.”

As cold water was placed at her lips, she opened her eyes.

“What are you doing here?” Jo winced at the raw tinge of pain she felt when she spoke. Taking a long drink of the iced water, she would have drunk it all, but Rider pulled it back, making her take small sips.

“Knox got worried when you didn’t answer his call, so I volunteered to come check on you. It’s a good thing I did. Your fever is over 102.”

Jo tried to move the glass of water away with her hand while trying to sit up in bed. “I need to get back to work.”

“You’re not going anywhere. Train borrowed your truck to answer Knox’s call. He’s also going to make your rounds, so you can relax and go back to sleep.”

“Train can’t operate that truck. It’s a complex machine, not like a regular truck.”

“Train can land a helicopter during a sandstorm or as bombs go off; I think he can handle your tow truck.”

Jo felt tears of frustration at her inability to get out of bed and to kick both his and Train’s asses for doing what she should be able to do herself.

“Why are you crying?” Rider lifted her, giving her tablets to take before giving her another drink of water.

“Because I feel bad.”

“You’re crying because you’re sick?”

“Yes. I’m never sick, and this couldn’t be a worse time to be sick.”

“You told Lily over a week ago you were sick, and that was why you couldn’t visit her.”

“I lied. God’s paying me back.”

“God’s not making you sick to pay you back. The flu has half the people in town in bed. Mick had to close the bar late last night he was so bad.”

“Mick is sick?” Jo tried to get out of bed again. “I need to go check on him.”

“Beth is with him. He’s in better shape than you are, and he’s twice your age.”

Jo cried harder. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

Rider pushed her back down on the bed. “Jo, you’re exhausted. You’ve been working yourself to the bone for the last six months. The flu took the last reserves you had left.”

“I just need a couple hours. When I wake up, I’ll feel better.” She took the washcloth out of Rider’s hand and scrubbed her tear-soaked cheeks.

“Unfortunately, Dr. Price disagrees. He was here two days ago—”

“I’ve been sleeping for two days?” Jo’s screech ended in a spasm of coughing that had Rider reaching for a bottle of cough syrup.

“Take this,” he said, pouring a spoonful.

She took it only because she had no alternative if she wanted to breathe.

It took several minutes for her coughing to settle. Lying back on the pillows Rider had punched up for her, she sighed in defeat.

“I’m sick.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“Gloating is very unbecoming in a man,” she mused, tucking the blankets tighter around herself.

“Is it? I’ll have to remember that. I gloat a lot.” He smiled as he gathered the empty glass and dirty spoon to take to the kitchen.

She dozed off when he was gone, waking during the night with the urgent need to go to the bathroom.

She threw her covers off and was trying to rise when an arm around her waist tugged her back down.

Screaming bloody murder, she struck out in the dark, striking something squishy that had her cringing in disgust.

“Goddammit! Stop screaming, Jo. It’s me.” Rider turned the light on, nearly blinding her with the suddenness of stark brightness.

Jo gaped at a shirtless Rider sitting on her bed under the same cover she had been under.

“You have two seconds to explain why you’re in my bed.”

When his lips opened, she changed her mind.

“Forget it. I don’t care. Get out!” she screamed, pointing a finger at the door.

Rider moved his hand away from his rapidly swelling eye to stare at her. “There isn’t anywhere else to sleep.”

“You can sleep on the couch. Or better yet, you can go home. I’m sure you have numerous beds to sleep in there.”

“The snow’s over thirteen inches outside, and Train is sleeping on the couch. I’m not going to wake him when he just got to sleep. He hits harder than you do.”

Jo wobbled out of bed, going to the window. The lamppost in the middle of the yard showed her how massively high the snow was outside.

Jo laid her forehead on the cold window. “Only I would get sick on one of the few money-making days of the year. Do you know how much money I’m missing out on by being home?”

Rider searched through the covers on the bed, coming up with a familiar yellow pad of paper. “I don’t have to guess. I know.”

Jo went to her bed, snatching the pad out of his hand. “This is none of your business.”

“I made it my business when I found it … and the letter stating Aly is suing you.”

“I need to go to the bathroom.” Jo needed time to think.

“Then go.”

Swearing under her breath, she went into the bathroom, used it, and then brushed her teeth, unable to bear the taste in her mouth.

She was getting about to get back under the covers, so focused on what she was going to say that she forgot to order him out of her bed.

“Get out! Go sleep with Train. Or, better yet, walk home.” Yawning, she climbed under her blanket, tugging the majority of them away from Rider. Then she stopped when she became worried he might be naked. “You better be wearing pants.” Glowering at him, she tossed half an inch back toward him.

“I found a pair of your father’s pajama bottoms.”

“You went in my parents’ bedroom? Is there any part of my house you didn’t snoop around in?” Coughing, she reached for the cough syrup. Not seeing the spoon, she opened it and simply took a large drink.

“That’s prescription strength.”

Ignoring his warning, she took another sip for good measure.

“I want to go to sleep.”

“Then go to sleep. I’m not stopping you.” He settled back on the bed, turning the light off.

“Are you being serious?” She felt her forehead in the dark. Was she more feverous than she had thought? Was she delirious and didn’t know it?

“I’ve been taking care of you for the last three days. I’m tired. The roads are too bad for me to leave. If you don’t want to sleep here, you can go sleep on the couch with Train. He sleeps like a rock, so he probably won’t know you’re there. On the other hand, Killyama might kill ya if Train tells her. The fucker couldn’t keep a secret if he tried.”

Despite herself, Jo snuggled back under the covers. She couldn’t remember the last time her house was this warm. Even the bed felt toasty. Either that or that cough syrup was stronger than she had thought.

“Keep to your side of the bed.” Her eyelids felt like they weighed a thousand pounds each. She groggily tried to lift them, then decided she was better off with them closed when she heard Rider shifting on the mattress.

“Don’t worry; I’m not anxious to catch your flu cooties.”

“I don’t have cooties. I brushed my teeth.” Her eyelids flew open at her words. It had made her seem like she wanted him to kiss her.

“I’ll take your word for it. Unlike you, I’m not asexual. Unlike you, Train will deck me if I try to share the couch.”

“I’m not asexual,” she admitted, snuggling back onto the mattress. She didn’t know why she was admitting it to him in the middle of the night, when he was inches away from her in the bed. Only that, if she died from the flu in her sleep, she didn’t want to carry that lie to her grave.

“I’ll keep that in mind for when you’re feeling better. Night, Jo.”

She was asleep before the last two words were out of his mouth, sinking into the mattress she’d had since she was a teenager. The indentations worn through time curved around her.

Subconsciously, she slipped into a deep slumber, knowing she was safe and warm, listening to the sounds of the night, twigs breaking from the weight of the snow, the floorboards creaking. After her father’s death, she had jumped at every sound in fear. It was easier to get sounder sleep in her truck than her bed.

With Rider beside her, she didn’t have those fears and could find a deep sleep, subliminally aware of the gentle hand going to her forehead, checking for fever, or soothing her when her body was racked with spasms of shivers, pulling her close to share his body heat with her.

Consciousness tried to beckon her forward. Not experiencing the tender touches from another human being since she was a small child, she resisted the pull. In her fever-induced haze, it wasn’t another Christmas night that she wouldn’t have to spend alone. As Christmas presents go, she hadn’t asked for Rider, but when given this particular present, it was better not to ask God why, and just enjoy.