Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
After dinner we went out on the porch to enjoy the night breeze with some lemonade and cookies Marta had left us. Then we all said our good-nights.
Since Julian had been in my bed, I’d had difficultly sleeping soundly through the night. Not that the sheets still smelled like him, because no way I wouldn’t launder them after we made such a mess, but I wished I could’ve at least kept my pillowcase unwashed for another week so I could smell him. Though that might’ve been a bad idea too.
In the middle of tossing and turning, I heard a familiar sound of distress. Julian was having another one of his dreams. He hadn’t had a bad one in a while—or not any I’d been witness to—but I knew that didn’t mean his troubles were solved.
PTSD was serious for many, and his experiences would haunt him for years to come. My chest ached with a new awareness that I wouldn’t be able to help him through his episodes for much longer. I’d come to know the signs and to watch for them, so the thought of not being there for him was eating me alive. It was ridiculous, though, because he’d already had many others in his corner before he even arrived at the farm. His mom and sister, the service buddies he still communicated with, and his social worker at the VA.
So why was it still upsetting to me?
On autopilot, I rolled out of bed, slipped on some shorts, and padded quickly through the bathroom to his room. He was muttering and struggling in his sheets. As I drew nearer, I could see the sheen of sweat on his skin, and his features looked haunted.
“Julian,” I whispered, trying to stir him awake, to no avail.
So I did the only thing that came to mind. Drawing his sheets open, I scooted onto his bed and enveloped his thrashing form in my arms, surrounding him in warmth and protection.
“Shh, you’re okay. It’s me, Kerry.” I felt him stiffen against me before his muscles slackened a little. “You’re on my farm in Wyoming. You’re home.”
Home. Why had I said that? Because I wanted it to be true, I realized, the truth hitting me square in the gut. Him, home safe and sound here in Wyoming sounded like music to my ears.
“Kerry?” Julian said in a muted voice.
I swallowed roughly. “I’m here.”
He turned and buried his head against my throat, his body trembling, and seeing him so vulnerable was my undoing.
I didn’t even think twice as I peppered his sweaty hair and temple and wet cheeks with kisses. “Was it the explosion again?”
“Yeah.” He sounded so downtrodden that I wrapped him more tightly in my arms. “Thought things were getting better, but guess not.”
“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. No way that kind of trauma leaves that easily. The good news is that it has been getting better.”
“Okay, you’re right,” he admitted, then settled against me, his muscles going lax.
After another minute, I loosened myself from his embrace and brought a wet washcloth from the bathroom. As I wiped his face and neck, it dawned on me how much it meant to be there for him. How much joy and reassurance and comfort it brought me.
How much peace and hope and love.
Brushing that thought away, I filled a glass with water from the tap and offered it to him. “Better?”
“Better.” He placed the glass on the nightstand. “Thanks for taking such good care of me.”
“I like it,” I replied without any forethought because it was the plain truth.
“I like it too.”
There was silence as thick tension curled around us. We did that staring thing again as my heart rose to my throat and ballooned with overwhelming emotions that nearly choked me.
“Okay, well…” I struggled to make my lips move as well as my legs. “I’m gonna head back to bed.”
His hand curled around my wrist before I could step away. “Stay? There’s not much time left…and I…”
“I shouldn’t,” I whispered, but there was no teeth to my objection.
“Just five more minutes.”
I relented, sliding under the warm sheets and sighing when he curled against my chest again. It felt too fucking good to hold him.
I waited until his breaths evened out before scooting toward the edge of the bed. When I tried to stand up, he whimpered in his sleep, and I became concerned he would have another dream. So I sank back down on the mattress, outside the covers this time, and stroked his hair until he fell into a deeper slumber. Then my eyes drifted closed for just a minute.
“Kerry?” Sienna’s voice roused me from my sleep. It was filled with alarm, and my eyes instantly sprang open.
Fuck, I was still in Julian’s room. I stumbled off the bed, lifted my hand to my lips to caution against waking him, then followed her through the bathroom, shutting both doors behind us.