Rocky Mountain Cowboy Read Online Free PDF Page B

was a dark red curtain of disheveled curls, cascading to her shins, hiding her face from him.
    Hawk bent down to pick up the pieces of broken glass. He was fortunate there were no slivery shards, only large pieces. He scooped them onto a magazine and dumped the pieces into a small trashcan near the bed. Once he was satisfied she wouldn’t cut her bare feet when she got up, he mopped up the water on the night stand with some tissue, then slid it over the bare wood floor just in case.
    Another look at her told him she might need something stronger than water to drink. She hadn’t moved to acknowledge his presence since he had entered.
    “I’ll be right back,” he informed her , receiving no reply.
    She was in the same upright f etal position when he returned.
    This time he sat down on the edge of the bed. Even the dip of the mattress didn’t budge her from her position.
    “Jenny.” He reached for her bare arm and stroked it, rubbing his open hand back and forth, from shoulder to wrist. When he got nothing more than a muted whimper, he held out a large brandy snifter. Three fingers of warm amber liquid swirled inside the thinly blown glass. “Drink this,” he urged her. Her skin was as cold as marble. “Come on, honey. Take a drink.”
    By slow degrees, her head began to turn toward him. She didn’t lift it, just rested one cheek on her knees. She stared limpidly at the glass. He stroked her hair back from her face. He was no doctor, but she looked dazed and totally traumatized. Gently, he slipped the tips of his fingers under her chin and lifted her head off her knees.
    Without protest, she let him put the glass to her lips. Holding the back of her head, he tipped it and urged her to drink. “You’re not doing so well, are you?” They were just words spoken to encourage her out of her paralysis. He already knew the answer to his question. Obviously, it hadn’t been such a good idea to leave her alone all night.
    After taking a long drink of the warm brandy, she shivered and began to rub her bare arms. She wasn’t looking at Hawk, just through him or beyond him. He wasn’t sure which. If she had gotten any sleep, it didn’t look as if it had been easy or restful. The bed was a mess; a wild tangle of sheets, pillows and blankets.
    “I heard you cry out,” he stated in a calm matter-of-fact voice meant to soothe and relax her. “Did you have a bad dream?”
    She dropped her head back onto her knees and began to rock back and forth. This time, Hawk heard the choked sobs.
    “I was dreaming.... The open coffin.... Daddy in pain.... He was struggling.... My grandfather was there, laughing, sneering....My fault! Ohhh, God! My fault!”
    A broken recollection of scenes from a terrible dream tumbled from her haltingly.
    “You shouldn’t have had them open the casket.”
    “I had to know it was... not a nightmare... that it was… real.” Her voice was so small and reedy, he barely heard her reply.
    “Jenny, let me help.” He lifted her head and used thumb and forefinger to gently turn it to him once again. “Honey, look at me.”
    When she finally raised her eyes to his, he was taken aback by the ravages of grief he saw on her beautiful face. Her deep brown eyes were red rimmed and swollen. Tears were streaking down her face, which was blotchy and pale. Her lips were wet and quivering, and almost immediately, she bit down on her lower lip in an attempt to hold back more tears. She still wouldn’t look directly at him. He put the glass to her lips one more time and made her take another drink, a longer one this time. When she pushed it away, he finished the rest himself . The starkness of her anguish hit him hard. Beside him, she started to rock back and forth once more, her head back on her knees. He felt every ounce of her pain. He simply hadn’t expressed his own in quite the same way.
    Unable to see her curled so tightly in on herself, he swung his legs up onto the bed, sat back against the multitude of