Tags:
Fiction,
General,
Romance,
Contemporary,
Adult,
Man-Woman Relationships,
Love Stories,
Time travel,
Texas,
Category,
Stolen From Time
caused the neckline of her dress to slip, exposing the creamy pale skin of her left shoulder. She didn’t pull the sleeve back into place, and didn’t seem to notice.
He thought for a second that it might be better if she took his hands and pulled him up, but then decided she wouldn’t have the strength. At least if he used her arm for leverage he could handle the heavy lifting. Hopefully. He took hold of her arm again, careful not to squeeze too tight. “You tell me if I hurt you, okay?”
She nodded, and braced herself.
Jake slowly lifted his shoulders off the bed and then paused. With the slight exertion, sweat dampened the back of his neck and the effort hampered his breathing. The pain that stabbed his temple he tried not to think about, but it messed with his vision and he blinked the room back into focus.
“Mister?”
Damn, he wasn’t sure he could do this.
“Mister?” She sounded frightened, and her arm started to tremble.
“I’m okay.” He breathed in deeply, though it hurt like a mother. “You?”
Her eyes darkened with concern, making them more blue than green. “I don’t want you harming yourself further.”
“You’re the one I’m worried about.” He tried to relax his hold on her. “Am I hurting your arm?”
She seemed a bit taken aback, but quickly shook her head.
“Call me Jake, all right? Mister makes me sound old.”
One corner of her mouth actually twitched this time, and she shifted, straightening her shoulders, ready to bear more of his weight.
“Okay, I’m ready if you are.” It took everything he had to haul himself upright and not curse a blue streak.
Pain shot down his side, and exploded in his skull like a bomb had gone off. Sweat coated his chest and popped out above his upper lip. He swayed to the right, but Rebecca stood firm, cupping her hand over his and steadying him.
“Oh, my, you’re awfully pale,” she whispered. “Maybe we should lay you back down.”
“No.” His voice sounded weak. “No,” he said again, with more force. “Please.”
“All right.” She stood as still as a statue, waiting, watching for his cue.
But he had to rest before he made another move. The movement had caused his breathing to labor and each deep pull of air was torturous. He felt as if he’d just run a marathon. Rebecca, on the other hand, hadn’t even broken a sweat. She wasn’t kidding about being stronger than she looked.
“I might be able to reach the cup,” she offered.
“Okay.” Water sounded good. Damn good. His mouth was dry and his throat raw from talking.
She stretched toward the table, and fearing he was about to fall backward, he slid an arm around her waist. She gasped, jerked hard to get away, shoving his shoulder.
He howled in pain and fell back.
“I’m sorry.” She tried to catch him, but it was too late. “I thought you—I’m so sorry.”
He couldn’t seem to catch his breath. Tears burned the back of his eyes. He closed them. “Bad idea, huh?”
“Please forgive me.” Her voice caught on a sob.
“Hey.” He reached out blindly, brushing her arm, and she gingerly touched his hand. “I’ll try again later,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I need to—I think I’ll grab a short nap.”
“I’ll sit with you,” she said softly.
He heard the legs of the chair scrape the wood floor, and then there was blessed darkness once more.
R EBECCA WISHED she could remember the words to all of her prayers. But it had been a long time since she’d recited them regularly and she only recalled two for sure. How her mama would be horrified that Rebecca had forgotten something so sacred. She’d be even more sickened if she knew that for a time Rebecca had decided there might not be a God after all. But Mama had long since returned to the earth, and Rebecca suspected she wasn’t feeling anything anymore.
After concentrating for a spell, and recalling the order the words were to be said, she murmured the two prayers over