CHAPTER
After one more cautious glance at Jamison’s bedroom door, she hobbled over and leaned against the bedpost.
“Luke!” she whisper-yelled.
He moaned and uttered incomprehensible words.
“Luke!” She grabbed his ankle.
He twisted away from her and his moaning turned to shouts of panic.
“Luke!” She matched his volume and shook his shoulder.
He bolted up, staring at her with wide, vacant eyes.
She noticed, with relief, that he wore boxers.
“What are you?” he demanded.
“Good question,” she said before sitting down beside him. “Are you awake now?”
“What are you doing in here?” he asked as he raked his fingers through his hair.
Not exactly the response a woman trying to seduce a man in his bedroom would want to hear, but she wasn’t a woman trying to seduce a man. She edged away from him, even though a part of her wanted to hold him to stop his trembling. “You were having a nightmare.”
He audibly swallowed and nodded his head.
“Are you okay?”
He hung his head and hunched his shoulders. “No, but I will be.”
“Does this happen often?”
He grunted an indecipherable negative or assent—she didn’t know which.
“Do you want me to stay?”
Again, a noise she couldn’t understand.
“Do you want me to get you anything?”
His trembling abated slightly. “Like what? A therapist?”
She laughed quietly. “I have one of those. Her name is Lauren. You’d like her. Although she doesn’t make midnight calls.”
He glanced out the window. “It’s almost dawn.”
“How can you tell?”
“These dreams…they always happen in the early morning.”
“So they do happen a lot.” She paused. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He shook his head. “I’m supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around.”
“But I’m fine, other than the twisted ankle, and you’re—”
“Twisted in other ways.”
“I didn’t say that,” she said, resting her hand on his thigh. Afraid she’d overstepped, she pulled her hand away.
“Do you want me to take you back downstairs?” he asked.
“Will you go back to sleep?”
“Not a chance, but that doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t.”
“I’ll stay with you.”
“Really?”
“But not if you don’t want me to.”
He looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. She fought the urge to pat her hair into place or tug her nightgown over her shoulder. She had to look almost as scary as he’d sounded, but that wasn’t what she saw in his eyes. He looked at her with gratitude and an almost heartbreaking relief.
She crawled across the bed and fluffed a pillow before lying down on it. “What’s your scariest dream?”
“You don’t want to know,” he told her as he lay down on the opposite side of the bed. “What’s yours?”
“Well, there’s always the one where I’m back in school and the teacher is handing out a test I haven’t studied for.”
“That’s your scariest dream?” Incredulousness made his voice rise.
She didn’t mention any of the dreams where she was naked in church or in front of a crowd. “Once I had a dream I was standing at a podium in front of a giant auditorium and a gust of wind came along and blew my hair off and did a Marilyn Monroe thing to my skirt.”
His laughter made the bed shake.
“Your dreams are way tamer than mine.”
“Well, obviously. Before I woke you, before I came in the room, it crossed my mind that maybe an intruder had broken in and was pulling out your toenails.”
“Denailing. It’s not uncommon in the Orient.”
“It’s scary that you know that.”
“I actually know a lot of scary things.”
“Why’s that?”
She felt more than saw him shrug. “I don’t want to talk about me. Tell me more about your dreams.”
“Okay, once before a big trial, I dreamed that everyone else in the courtroom was an animal. The judge was a lion, the prosecuting attorney was a jackal, and my defendant was a goat. That’s how I knew my defendant didn’t have a chance.”
“How did your case go?”
“Oh, we lost…we lost big.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. I did my best, but I…” She swallowed. “I was ready to quit after that.”
“Is that when you quit?”
“No. I’d worked for so hard and for so long to get where I was, I couldn’t just walk away from it.”
“Until you did.”
“I still practice, but it’s small-fry stuff.” She thought over the legal disputes she’d handled in the past six months. Mrs. Jenkins and her will. The controversial trailer park association. The claims against the town and the historical society. “I like it.” She heard the wonder in her own voice. “It sounds silly, but I actually prefer it.”
“How does Jamie fit in?”
“He usually comes with me. Everyone here knows my situation…although I have occasionally left him with Liz.”
“You’ll leave him with Liz, but not with me?”
“That will change.” She rolled onto her side so she could study him.
He blinked at her.
“It will have to…unless…”
“Unless what?”
She didn’t reply.
“Unless I go away? That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it? That I’ll end up getting bored and leaving?”
She bit her lip.
“It’s not happening. I’m staying.”
She wanted to believe him, although she didn’t. But since she didn’t want to start an argument, she asked him about the renovations to his barn, and while he talked, she drifted back to sleep.