Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 139029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
“I promise.”
Dustin reached for the marshmallows. “I don’t know about you two, but all this talking has made me want another s’more. You want one, Logan?”
“No, thank you.”
“How about you, Jessie?”
She reached out, taking the marshmallows away from him. “Let me do it.” Giving Logan a mischievous glance, she said, “You’ll burn them.”
17
The nightmare had her jerking awake in her sleeping bag, slapping at imaginary rats. Biting back a sob, she realized she had been dreaming and was in the tent with Logan, who was still sleeping despite her flailing arms.
Still half asleep, all she could think about was going home. Unzipping her sleeping bag, she got up, not rising to her full height because of the tent. She couldn’t catch her breath in the confining space. Lowering the zipper, she then rushed out, nearly tripping over Dustin’s sleeping bag.
She didn’t bother to put on her tennis shoes; her only instinct was to return to the safety of her home.
“Jess.”
Mid-flight, she looked down to see Dustin staring up at her in concern.
“I had a nightmare.”
He pulled the top of his sleeping bag open, remaining silent and giving her the choice to run or stay.
With a broken sob, she crawled into the sleeping bag next to him, burrowing her head into his shoulder as Dustin covered them both.
He reassuringly stroked her back, easing her frightened tremors.
“I hate being a coward,” she mumbled into his shoulder.
“You’re no coward. You’re the bravest woman I know,” he contradicted her, pulling the sleeping bag tighter around her.
“It doesn’t feel that way. I feel like a freaking wimp.”
“A Hayes, a wimp? That doesn’t exist. The Hayeses aren’t afraid of anyone. Everyone fears them. Your brothers would disown you for saying that.”
“No, they wouldn’t. They’ve said the same thing themselves. Not often, but I heard it a time or two.”
Her eyelids grew heavy from the heat of his body and the soft music that Dustin had left playing on the radio but had turned down when they had gone to bed. Gradually, her body relaxed, curving against his, feeling safe for the first time since she had woken to find herself clinging to the side of the mountain.
“Like when they’re drunk?”
“Maybe.”
She heard the smile in his voice. “Do you remember when they used to be friends?”
“Vaguely.”
“Tate and Holt were. They would go hunting together every weekend. Asher and Greer would bug them until they gave in. I miss those times so bad. Then we all grew up,” he said simply.
“To hate each other.”
“Hate’s a strong word.”
“It’s the truth.”
At that, he didn’t say anything. He had never lied to her. It had been a rule in their childhood, and it still was.
“Could you turn the music up a little? I like this song,” Jessie asked in a whisper-soft voice, not wanting to wake Logan in the tent.
Dustin removed his arm long enough to turn sideways and raise the volume of the radio before wrapping her in his arms again.
“When did you start having nightmares about people dying?”
“I don’t know for sure. I think three, but Ma said I was a fussy baby. That’s why she always put us in the same playpen when she visited your mom.”
“Does it happen often?”
“No. Sometimes I’ll go a year or two without having them. Then others, it’ll happen two or three times a year. Depends on if I’ve been around who’s going to die. About a month before they die, I’ll dream about them every night. The nightmares get worse right before they die.”
“And you’ve lived with this since you were a little boy?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve only had nightmares since I was kidnapped. I would have gone crazy if I had nightmares that bad when I was growing up.”
“My pa thought I was before I was old enough to hide them from him. I couldn’t hide them from my grandmother. She’s the one who figured out why I was having them. She was always afraid of me.”
“I’m sure she wasn’t.” She rubbed his chest in sympathy, instinctively feeling his hurt inside. “I wish you told me.”
“I couldn’t. I shouldn’t have told you as much as I have. It would only take one word to the wrong person to create a hellstorm that there would be no coming back from.”
“Greer is that good?”
“He’s that good.”
His conviction had Jessie wondering about the unseen depths of the man who she didn’t hate, yet surely didn’t like either.
“He saved Pa’s life, Rachel’s, Holly’s, and Logan’s.”
“I heard that Rachel can make people feel better, and that she used to give massages before she got married to Cash.” Thinking about that, she remembered Cash had been in a terrible accident, and she had been at the festival the day Mag had nearly died. “She’s the reason Cash and Mag didn’t die.”
“Yes. Most everyone in town thinks Rachel is a charlatan, except the ones she’s helped. She quit doing appointments because, when she and Greer do it, it takes a toll on their health. Greer still hasn’t fully recovered from the last person he helped. Rachel recuperates faster, but she’s not as strong a healer as Greer.”