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“I’m going to change.”
He didn’t realize at first what she meant, but when Tristan saw what she carried in her arms, he snapped, “No, you are not.”
She appeared as if she would like nothing better than to throttle him. But he paid her no mind. She was not going to wear those “shorts” again.
“Yes,” she said turning, “I am.”
He stood, raising his brows at the stream of colorful language she spouted as he followed her—words like “ass” and “brute.”
“If anyone sees you—”
Hannah spun around. “Anyone? There is no one here to see me. Only you. I don’t understand why you’re so opposed to my clothing.”
Surely she jested.
“No respectable woman—”
“Don’t you dare.”
He ignored her flash of anger. “This is not Maine, Hannah. Do you not understand? It is dangerous out here.”
“And who exactly am I in danger from?” She turned to look toward the road and then back at him. “I see no one here except for you. And I am not from fourteenth-century England. I already told you, this is what we wear. And it’s perfectly acceptable. Bare legs are not an invitation. Anyway”—she tugged at the low neckline of her gown—“how is this any better? Talk about a double standard.”
Tristan wasn’t sure how to answer, so he did not.
“I get it. I need to play by your rules. That’s why I’ve worn Joan’s ridiculous dresses for more than twenty-four hours now. But there is no one else here, and I refuse to sleep in this thing.”
“Your shift—”
“Is much more decent than these.” She lifted up the shorts and hoodie in her hands. “But you know what? This isn’t about clothes. It’s about the fact that you don’t believe me. If you did—”
“I do,” he said.
“But not totally. And you know what? If I were in your shoes, I’d think I was crazy too. But I’m not. I’m just a New England girl who is terrified the waterfall my sisters and I jumped into yesterday will have no answers for me.”
Tristan reached for her, but Hannah pulled away.
“You’re scared.”
“Damn right I’m scared. I’m more than scared, I’m terrified. What if I never see my sisters again, Tristan? What if I can’t get back?”
It was the question that had hung between them since the start of their journey—or at least since Tristan had begun to believe her. When he reached for her this time, she did not resist, and he smoothed her hair back away from her face as she began to cry. It was not the first time he’d comforted a woman, but never before had he been this eager to do so.
Hannah was unlike anyone he’d ever met, rightly so given her circumstances, and she faced impossibly high stakes. If for some reason they did not find the answers she needed tomorrow, she would be alone in a world that was not her own.
He pulled her more tightly against him.
“If you can’t get back,” he said, struggling to find the right words, “you will stay with me.”
* * *
If you can’t get back, you will stay with me.
She didn’t know what to say to that. Maybe he really meant it, or maybe he’d only made the offer because he felt sorry for her.
How embarrassing.
Hannah couldn’t remember a time when she’d cried in a man’s arms. Literally. The wrenching sadness seemed to have come out of nowhere. She’d actually been feeling much better this evening, talking with Tristan and teasing him.
