Page 79 of The Way Back Home
Teagan remained silent, her gaze fixed ahead, although she did murmur a quiet thanks when he got her situated in his truck. It reminded him of the nightthey’d left Hopewell. She’d been injured and not particularly happy about his company then either.
At least he’d finally convinced her to return to the cabin with him.
That had been a battle from the start. She resisted, politely at first, then with the kind of stubborn set to her jaw that told him she was planning to bolt the minute his back was turned. He laid out his arguments carefully, focusing on safety, comfort, her fragile state, and the fact that she’d be secure and out of the public eye. Even then, her agreement had been reluctant, her eventual capitulation hesitant at best. But it was still a yes, and he counted that as a win.
He held out hope that during the time it took to recover, she would come to the same conclusion he had—that there was something special between them that had the potential to be so much more.
They didn’t speak much on the drive up the mountain. The rhythmic hum of the truck’s engine and the crunch of frozen chunks of snow and ice on the road filled the silence. Teagan sat angled toward the window, her reflection a pale blur in the glass. The urge to reach out and take her hand was strong, but he held himself in check. They were on fragile ground.
By the time the private drive came into view, the pines were black silhouettes against a moonlit sky. The cabin’s windows glowed warm and gold, promising warmth and quiet. Bear sat in the window, his massive tail thumping when he heard the truck approaching. A tiny smile curled the corners of Teagan’s lips.
The moment Noah opened the door, the dog bounded out, nails clicking against the porch boards. He made a beeline for Teagan, pressing his nose to her palm like she’d been gone for months instead of days.
“Hey, boy,” she murmured, wincing as she reached forward to scratch behind his ears.
Bear leaned into her, as if to support her, his soft pants and slow tail wags expressing his happiness at seeing her again.
Inside, Noah stoked the fire while Teagan eased herself onto the sofa with care. Bear wasted no time curling up beside her. The dog was as besotted with Teagan as he was.
“You’re safe here,” he said quietly.
Her gaze flicked to his, searching, and then she gave a slight nod before turning back to the fire. “I know. And I am grateful, even if I’m not very good at saying so. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Noah settled into the armchair across from her, wanting to give her the space she needed while simultaneously wanting to hold her in his arms. Somewhere along the line, she had become important in a way he hadn’t thought anyone would.
He leaned back, watching the firelight dance across her profile, and let the truth settle in. Teagan had been through hell, but she was here now, and she was safe. Physically, she’d make a full recovery. Emotional healing would take far longer.
He wasn’t going anywhere.
The fire settled into a steady burn. Teagan hadn’t moved from her spot, one knee drawn up on the couch. Bear’s head rested against her leg, a barely touched mug of hot chocolate in her hand. She looked calmer than she had all night, but the invisible walls she’d built around herself remained intact.
Noah’s gaze drifted to the window. Beyond the glass, the cabin’s porch light caught in the drifting snow, each flake tumbling in slow arcs before disappearing into darkness. His phone buzzed with an incoming text.
“Mom’s got soup and rolls for us,” he said into the quiet. “Will you be okay if I run up for it?”
Teagan nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
Every time she spoke in that rough voice, Noah wanted to eviscerate that fucker all over again.
“You’ll be here when I get back, right?” he asked.
She turned to look at him then, her beautiful blue eyes flat, except for the flicker of the fire’s flames reflecting in them, and whispered, “Where would I go?”
He didn’t answer. His fear that she would take off despite her injuries was constant, but at the same time, he knew that short of locking her in, there was little he could do.
As if she’d read his thoughts, her bruised features softened ever so slightly. “I’ll be here, Noah. I promise.”
Something loosened in his chest. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed to hear her say the words. The dark voice in his head suggested she was only telling him what he wanted to hear, but a stronger voice countered with a reminder that she hadn’t lied to him yet.
Nodding, Noah left before he changed his mind about locking her in.
Noah’s boot barely cleared the first porch step before Alex opened the front door. His twin’s hair was mussed, sticking out at odd angles like he’d been running his hand through it.
“How’s she doing?” Alex asked.
“Honestly? I don’t know. She’s not saying much.”
