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He handed over the cell phone. Their hands brushed and tingles worked their way across her skin. Her gaze darted to his and held. Those green eyes had been through hurt, but there was yearning there as well. For her. Despite their lack of a future? Cade did not strike her as the temporary pleasure kind of man—as evidenced by him vehemently protesting they would sleep together.
She was grateful for his moral structure, but she was tempted beyond belief to trail her fingertips across those strong shoulders, hold him close, and at least thank him for his generosity with a tender kiss.
Before she could act on the growing impulse to touch him, or admit how desperately she needed him to stay close, Cade backed away and tipped his head to her. “Get some rest.”
Then he pivoted and exited through the mudroom and into the garage.
Jacey’s chest tightened and her breath came in short puffs. He had walked away. He needed a break. She was alone, and pinpricks of cold chills told her danger would come soon.
She shuffled to lock the front door, then sank into the leather sofa, clinging to the phone. How to proceed without Cade. Why had he left her? Chores? Why could she not tag along as she had earlier today?
Her gaze darted around. Someone was coming. For her.
The witch.
She was in danger. So much danger. Her presence here would bring horrors to this picturesque valley and her strong and kind cowboy.
Tears pricked her eyelids and streamed down her face.
She needed help. She needed Cade. Should she call for him?
Why was she so needy and weak? Weakness was a plague she could not reveal, no matter how she hurt or what she believed she needed.
How did she know that? She couldn’t even picture what her only brother looked like. Did she have other family or only the evil mother and kind brother? How awful must her life have been to need all these men protecting her and her own mind seemingly refusing to recall her past?
Tears flowed, but they didn’t soothe her burning eyes. They stung them more deeply.
Was this healing? Being alone. Quiet. Nobody looking at her as if she was fragile and didn’t know her own mind. She supposed this should be healing.
It was terrifying.
“Cade!” she cried out, then clamped her hand over her mouth. What was wrong with her? If she needed Cade, she should stand up and go find him. She didn’t want to be a bother. He was upset about the lady who had hurt him. He needed space and healing of his own, not a needy amnesiac patient.
The garage door burst open and Cade rushed through the mud room and into the open living area. His gaze darted around, assessing for danger. His eyes zeroed in on her. “Jacey?”
“Cade,” she whimpered.
He hurried across the space, determined and strong and ready to rescue her. He didn’t even remove his hat or his boots. Dropping to his knees in front of her, he reached for her hands. She released the cell phone and he wrapped both his hands around hers. Instantly she was enveloped by reassurance, protection, safety, warmth.
“What happened?”
“I am needy and weak, and I despise weakness.”
He smiled slightly. “You’re not needy or weak. You’ve dealt with this blow better than anyone I know could.”
“I am grateful for your kind words, but …” She sniffled and stared into his green eyes. “You are my haven. You comfort me and protect me, and I cannot abide being displaced from your side.”
His eyes filled with compassion.
“I showered alone,” she added, wanting to show she was not a quivering wimp, “but you couldn’t have assisted in that sphere.”
His cheeks darkened slightly. “Probably not.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to put pressure on you. You didn’t ask for an amnesiac woman to fall into your life today. Should we phone Easton and have him come for me?” She sniffled at the very thought.
“No.” Cade’s answer was concise, firm, and not to be argued with.
“Are you certain?” Her lip wobbled.
