American library books » Other » Breaking Free: A Colorado High Country Crossover Novel by Pamela Clare (adventure books to read txt) 📕

Read book online «Breaking Free: A Colorado High Country Crossover Novel by Pamela Clare (adventure books to read txt) 📕».   Author   -   Pamela Clare



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Janet slipped an arm around her husband’s waist. “We’re just down the hall from you if you need anything. Goodnight!”

“Goodnight.”

Megan took Winona’s empty mug. “I’m glad we got a chance to talk, Winona. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Thanks, Megan.”

“Of course.”

Winona walked with Jason upstairs and down the hallway to their adjoining rooms. She stopped outside her door. She didn’t want to be alone, and there was so much to say to him. Be brave. “Goodnight.”

“Hey.” He caught her hand, looked into her eyes. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, lied. “I’m fine.”

“Nate and I will be heading out early tomorrow with some of their men to cut sign and see if we can’t find this bastard.”

He didn’t ask her to join them this time.

He probably thinks you’re not up for it.

Maybe she wasn’t. “Please be careful.”

“We will. Thanks. Goodnight, Win.” He bent down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Our rooms have adjoining doors. Just knock if you need me.”

“Thanks.” Winona walked into her room, closed the door behind her.

Her room was beautiful, with a queen-sized poster bed, a fireplace, a velvet chaise, and a huge flat-screen TV on one wall. Best of all, the bathroom floor was heated, something she’d never experienced before.

Relax and go to bed. Nothing bad happened. You’ll be fine in the morning.

She took a quick shower to wash away the chlorine from the hot tub. Then she dried her hair with a towel and brushed her teeth. She pulled down the duvet on the queen-sized poster bed, then crawled beneath the covers and turned out the light. She closed her eyes, drew deep breaths, willed herself to relax.

But she couldn’t sleep.

Her mind jumped from one thing to another, a jumble of images and emotions. Jason cutting sign in the forest. The howl of the wolf. Jack and Nate arriving at the cabin, armed. The jerk near the road who’d called her “pretty little Indian gal.”

If you so much as make a peep, I’ll put an extra hole in your pretty little head.

She sat up, John Charles Ready’s voice echoing in her mind. Then she noticed light coming from beneath the door that separated her room from Jason’s. He was still awake. She hopped out of bed, turned on her bedside lamp, and walked to the door, hesitating for a moment. Was she truly so desperate?

Ask for help.

She knocked—and immediately felt stupid.

He opened the door wearing only a towel, his hair damp. “Hey.”

“I-I can’t sleep.”

Jason could tell that Winona was on the edge. Fear was written in every feature of her pretty face, her arms wrapped protectively around her, her breathing a little too rapid. “Let me get dressed, and we’ll talk. I’ll leave the door open.”

“Okay.”

“What happened tonight was pretty scary.” Doing his best to keep her talking, he walked over to his bed, dropped the towel, and grabbed his flannel pajama bottoms.

“It all runs together—tonight, that guy today, what happened at my clinic.”

“That makes sense to me.” He stepped into his pajamas, grabbed a condom, and slipped it into his pocket.

What the hell are you doing? She doesn’t need your dick.

He took it out and then put it back—just in case.

“But nothing really happened today.” She sounded angry at herself, ashamed.

“That’s not true, Winona.” He walked to the doorway, found her sitting on her bed, arms still hugged around her middle. “Some asshole singled you out and said he recognized you. Then this armed trespasser showed up with a wolf. I can see how what happened today would awaken memories from five years ago.”

“You can?”

“Yes.”

Then it hit him.

Winona was trapped in a trauma loop. Nothing was real for her now except the fear churning inside her.

Jason didn’t have a lot of experience with post-traumatic stress, but he had buddies who did, Wolves who’d suffered in the line of duty or who’d served in the military. Too bad he hadn’t learned anything that could help Winona now. Should he try to distract her, urge her to talk about it, tell her she was safe until she actually felt safe? Hell, he didn’t know.

He wasn’t used to feeling helpless.

He took a throw off the chaise, wrapped it around her shoulders, and sat close beside her. “I know you’re scared, Win, and I understand why. I’m listening if you want to talk about it. If not, then we’ll just get through tonight, one moment at a time.”

“Thanks.” She looked up at him, a wobbly smile on her face and tears in her eyes. “Tell me about your home.”

So, he told her about life in the desert. Harvesting saguaro fruit and cooking them down to syrup. Going on Salt Pilgrimage with other young O’odham men. Playing basketball with boys from the local youth club every Friday night. Growing tepary beans and corn with his grandfather. Watching his grandmother weave baskets. Learning the hard way not to get stuck by the spines of a cholla cactus.

“Those are painful—let me tell you. They’ll make you bleed.”

“Ouch.” Winona scooted back until she was sitting with her back against the headboard. She seemed more relaxed and less afraid now. “I bet that’s a mistake you don’t make twice.”

“Truth.” He sat beside her. “The fruit is tasty, but you have to get the spines off first. My grandmother made it look easy, but it isn’t.”

“Why did it end—your relationship with your fiancée?”

The question took Jason by surprise. So, too, did the realization that he didn’t mind talking about it with Winona.

She mistook his silence for something else. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No, it’s okay. I was just surprised.” Jason took a breath, wondering where to start. “Elena is O’odham, too. We met in high school.”

Jason told her how he’d lost track of Elena while he was away at college and then the training academy and how they’d gotten reacquainted one night at a party that his friends had hosted to welcome him back to Sells.

“We started dating. She had a hair salon and wanted to make life better for our people—or

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