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“Did you irritate your back today?” Her voice is soft as she enters my bedroom, and my stomach tightens at the sound of her voice. “I was worried about you when I saw you working on that ladder for so long.”
Jack’s words are in my ears, and as much as I try to dismiss them, I think my oldest brother is probably right. I don’t need him to tell me Rachel’s not like her father. I already know she’s not.
Now she’s standing here in my bedroom. She’s dressed in a long-sleeved pink shirt and flowy pants. Her soft blonde hair is brushed out, her face is freshly washed again, and she smells like honeysuckle.
“You don’t have to worry about me.” My voice is rough, but this time, it’s because I’m too tired to fight.
“I know, I know.” A smile is in her voice, and she holds out a rolled-up mat. “I have this acupuncture mat you can try lying on.”
She unrolls it on top of my bed, and I study the tiny points sticking up all over it. “It looks like a bed of nails.”
She laughs softly. “It’s supposed to be relaxing.”
“Thanks, but I think I’ll stick with ibuprofen.”
“If you’ll let me work on your back, I could get out all those knots.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I lift my hand to wave her away.
“What’s this?” She picks up the saltines. “You eat crackers in bed? What are you, a psycho?”
A damn smile curls my lips at her fake-horror. “I thought I might get hungry.”
“No. Just no.” She tucks the sleeve under her arm when her eyes land on the book lying facedown on my desk. “You’re reading it?”
“I haven’t gotten very far.”
“What do you think?”
I pick up the pale blue paperback, turning it to the side. “I think she spends a lot of time analyzing every single thing he does.”
“He’s a mystery to her—and everyone.” She quickly adds the last part.
“He’s simply doing what any homeowner would do, fixing the steps, mowing the grass.”
“You’d be surprised.” The way she says it sounds like she’s had to pick up the slack on some of those types of chores.
“I’d like to punch that Travis guy in the nuts. Who passes judgment on someone without even knowing them?”
Her lips poke out, and she slides her finger along the edge of the desk, looking down. She doesn’t answer, and I’m not stupid. I know what she’s thinking.
Still. “I like that she’s honest with him,” I say.
“Honesty is important.” Her voice is quiet.
“It’s everything.” Mine is firm.
The clock ticks.
The sound of a car passes on the road outside.
With a little nod, she straightens, going to the door. “I’d like to be there when Edward rides a horse for the first time—if that’s okay?”
The note of yearning in her tone twists that tightness in my chest. Hell, everything about her hits that wall I’ve been trying to build with a sledgehammer.
“We leave at six. You’re welcome to join us.”
Her eyes light, and a smile lifts her cheeks. “I’ll be ready.”
