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What the hell was he thinking, taking someone as inexperienced as she was on such a long hike, anyway?
He’d been distracted, already thinking they needed to cool things off. His way of dealing with any problem was to walk as far into the woods as he could get, but it was not an effective solve. Hell, the only reason he did it for a living was because he hadn’t figured out yet what he wanted to be when he grew up.
While running from his own troubled thoughts, he had tired her out, then pissed her off. Of course she’d fallen down a gulley. She’d been trying to get the hell away from him. Then he’d fuckinglefther there.
By the time he’d got her back on theStorm Ridge, he could see she was on her last nerve, but he’d wanted…something. Some tiny sign that she didn’t hate him through and through.
Why the hell wouldn’t she? He hated himself.
When his muscles were trembling from the punishment of too many reps, and sweat was running into his eyes, he jumped in the shower.
He came upstairs to find Logan coming down from the bedrooms. The baby monitor was in his hand.
“Did you put her down? I was about to come get her.” He glanced at the clock, realizing he’d lost track of time.
“I was going to wait for you, but she already had her bath and bottle at our place and was falling asleep.”
“I guess I’m the one who’s disrespecting the shift.” Trystan gave his damp hair a skim with his hand. “Pass along my apology, would you? Tell Biyen I’ll get him that five bucks soon as I get my wallet from the boat.”
“Don’t worry about it. We all had a beer. We’re over it.” Logan shrugged it off.
Prick. Of. The. Day. Trystan ran his tongue over his teeth.
“Is Cloe’s ankle broken or…?” Logan asked.
“Just a sprain.”
“She can’t work, though. Not for you.”
“Not on crutches, no. John already talked to Cheryl. She agreed to jump back onto this week’s cruise while we find someone for the rest of the season.”
“Mom called Fabiana. She’s going to Vancouver to see her grandkids. Her neighbor usually feeds her cats, but if Cloe wants to do it, she can stay at her place for the week.”
“Yeah?” A twenty-ton weight lifted off Trystan’s conscience.
“Fabiana’s place is one floor and she has a golf cart Cloe can use to get groceries. She can’t stay here. This place is nothing but stairs.” Logan jerked his head at the ones he’d come down. “She’d break her neck on day one. Same at Sophie’s, if she took the room next to Biyen’s.”
“Thanks.” Trystan gave his jaw a rub. “It was bothering me that I didn’t know where she’d stay once I left on Wednesday.”
“If she’s willing to paint, the marina can keep her on payroll. I’m almost finished gutting theMissionary II. She can get started whenever she wants.”
“That’s great.” Trystan’s first thought was to head straight to theStorm Ridgeand tell her, to ease her mind, but he remembered that his baby sister was asleep upstairs.
“Are you all right?” Logan asked with a frown of concern. “’Cause shit happens. It’s kind of a miracle you’ve never had any other serious issues in the bush. Have you?”
“The number of ‘should haves’ that are pounding in my head right now are like a jack hammer. I’ll take a radio with me from now on.”
“That’s all that’s eating you?”
“If I need to talk about it, I’ll dial the therapy hotline.”Back off, his tone conveyed.
“Jesus, I’ll go have another beer, then. If you decide you want to talk, don’t call me. Try Sophie.” He saluted with his middle finger and left.
Trystan swore tiredly and decided to put himself to bed.
Chapter Eighteen
Cloe was standingin the galley, crutches under her arms, stirring hot water into a bowl of instant oatmeal when the door beeped. Her heart skipped as Trystan entered with Storm in his arms.
