The Sunstone Brooch : Time Travel Romance by Katherine Logan (i am reading a book TXT) 📕

“On this uneven ground, I can only walk about ten miles a day.”

“You can ride. I’ll walk.”

“I’ll walk, too.”

“You’re half my weight. Mercury would rather carry you than me.”

“I’m a long-distance runner, JC. I can walk, and I intend to do my part.”

“If you insist on walking, we’ll walk together.”

“Let’s play it by ear.” She munched on the bar. “Where’s Elkhorn Ranch?”

JC pointed to the location on the map. “Here.”

“I can’t show up there looking like a homeless person. I’ll have to stop and clean up—you know, just in case TR’s there.”

JC folded the map and put it away. “Then we’ll check into a hotel tomorrow, and you can have a spa day.”

She looked at her broken nails. “Wow. If I could also have a facial and mani-pedi, I’d be a completely new woman.”

He hooked her around the neck and pulled her toward him for a hug. “I don’t want you to suffer one more day. I intend to pamper you, so hang in there just a little longer.”

She pushed away from him. “You don’t have to pamper me. No one ever has, and I don’t expect you to.”

“Maybe not, but I will.” He flipped the rabbit again, and the juices sizzled when they hit the flames. “I’m sorry I never called you after your mother died.”

“Well, that’s a non sequitur if I ever heard one.”

His eyebrows hiked up. “You didn’t want to hear how I plan to pamper you, so I changed the subject.”

She crunched the energy bar and tried to understand what she did want from him. It was just the two of them now, and they had to work together. “I haven’t seen this side of you before. We’ve gone on dozens of camping trips here in the Badlands, and you always treated me just like one of the guys. Why is this different?”

“We had camping gear, rifles, and cell phones in case we ran into trouble. We don’t have any of that now.”

She glanced at the gear he’d set down near the campfire. There was no rifle or even a scabbard. “You don’t have a rifle.”

“I didn’t have a large-caliber, lever-action Winchester repeater like TR’s in my collection, and I didn’t have time to search the antique gun dealers to find one.”

“You can probably order one in Medora. In the meantime, will you cool the overprotective act? It makes me uncomfortable, and I want to do my share of the work.”

“We’re in a different era, Ens, and right now, as a woman, you don’t have the same rights you do at home. If you’re going to get pissed every time I show you deference, you’ll be pissed all the time.”

He got up and went behind a tree to pee. When he returned, he used an antibacterial wipe to wash his face, neck, and hands before returning to his post near the roasting rabbit.

She leaned back against the tree and crossed her arms. “I don’t know if there’s anything more calming than the wind whispering through the cottonwood leaves. It makes such a lovely rustle. Don’t you think?”

“Talk about a non sequitur.”

She smiled. “I don’t want to fight with you—at least not at the moment—and I figure the weather is a safe topic.”

“Safe enough. Why don’t you get the mess kit out of the saddlebag, and we’ll give this rabbit a taste.”

“Sure, make the woman set the table.”

He whirled around, glaring. “This passive-aggressive shit doesn’t suit you.”

“Sorry. It’s just…I don’t know. It’s been a hard ten days, and having you here is messing with my mind. This keeps feeling like we’re just on an overnight camping trip, and we can go home in the morning. But we can’t.”

He turned the rabbit again. “There’s something else on your mind. What is it? I know you’re pissed that I can’t get us home right now, but there’s something deeper that has nothing to do with here and now. Let’s deal with it.”

She looked away from him as she shredded the energy bar’s foil lined packaging.

“Spit it out, Ens.”

She gave him a faint smile while giving herself a motivational talk.

Be a lion, not a mouse.

“Okay, here it is. Why didn’t you ever ask me out? For four years, I signaled that I was interested, but you ignored the signals. And then you go and do something stupid like this.”

His voice sounded strained when he asked, “Like what?”

“Give up your life to come after me.”

“Why wouldn’t I? George is my best friend, and you’re like his sister. I couldn’t date you because of him. If we dated and it didn’t work out, he’d hate me, and so would you. It was a lose-lose situation for me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought you—” He stared at the ground for a three-count before looking at her again. “I thought you might try to change my mind. And you and George are too important to me to screw it up.”

“We’re not kids, James Cullen. What I do, the choices I make, aren’t George’s responsibility.”

“He doesn’t see it that way, especially now that your parents are gone. Your uncle feels responsible for you, too. And before you claim you don’t want them interfering in your life, think about how it would feel if you didn’t have them.”

Her stomach convulsed, and she punched him in the arm. “Damn it, JC!” She drew in a ragged breath, tears filled her eyes, and her voice quivered. “I don’t have them now!”

“God, that was thoughtless of me. I’m sorry.”

He pulled her into his arms, and although she didn’t want to cry because crying was synonymous with losing control, she couldn’t hold back the tears. Most of all, though, she was ugly when she cried. She got red in weird places and got snot everywhere. But she couldn’t stop the rush of emotions or worry about how she looked, or even what JC thought of ugly-criers.

She buried her face against his chest and broke down, crying in loud, wracking sobs. And he held her. He didn’t speak, didn’t give