He showed her to one of the bathrooms shared by two of the downstairsbedrooms, pulling out two towels as they passed the linen closet. “Dump your clothes outside the door so I can throw them in the dryer.”
She nodded. She didn’t seem as dazed as she’d been a few minutes ago with the talk about hurting herself. But if she was still acting abnormally after a shower and some food, he was taking her in to the emergency room, even if it meant going back out in the storm.
After she closed the door behind her and he heard the shower running, he went into the kitchen and found a can of soup to warm on the stove and some crackers to go with it. Linear kept this place pretty well stocked for visitors.
Once the soup was on the stove, he went back to grab the clothes Eva had placed outside the bathroom door in a relatively neat pile by her shoes. He frowned as he picked up the clothes. There were four shirts as well as a jacket, plus a pair of sweatpants and jeans.
Why the hell had she been wearing so many clothes? The storm had definitely cooled down the temperature, but not enough that she should’ve been preparing for extensive time in cold conditions.
And they were all soaked.
He walked to the dryer with the armful of clothes and threw them all in. Why were that many layers of clothes so wet? She would’ve had to have been in the storm for a lot longer than trying to coax Spice out of the car. It was as if she’d gone for an extended walk in the storm.
But that didn’t make sense.
And then what the hell was that about whether she’d hurt herself? It was similar to when he’d tackled her in the barn—instead of being pissed at him, she’d immediately started exclaiming that she hadn’t tripped.
Her seeming confused both times made him feel both better and worse. Better because she probably didn’t have a head injury. Worse because…it didn’t make much sense at all.
Once again—as always—there were a lot more questions surrounding Eva than there were answers.
15
Eva’s brain fog was finally starting to lift by the time she left the shower. She was so used to doubting herself that it was easy to default to that setting.
She hadn’t hurt herself on purpose. It had been an unfortunate side effect of walking through the storm. She’d gotten soaked, overly cold, then hit in the head by hail.
None of it was anything she’d done to herself on purpose. Theo had said she’d done it to herself, and that had thrown her into a near panic attack.
How often had Gareth accused her of hurting herself on purpose?
But that hadn’t been what Theo meant. He hadn’t been blaming her; he’d been explaining what had happened.
Right?
She got out and wrapped one towel around her head and the other around her body. This would have to do for clothes until hers were dry.
She hesitated before opening the bathroom door. Theo must have so many questions.
Why she’d been so wet.
Why it had been so unclear to her if she’d hurt herself or not.
Why she’d been on property in the first place in a storm of this magnitude.
She halfway expected him to be standing in front of the door when she opened it, arms crossed over that wide chest, demanding answers. If he was, she wouldn’t blame him.
She’d tried her best not to lie to him this whole time. But she’d evaded and dodged, which was probably just as bad. She definitely hadn’t been forthcoming about much.
But when she opened the door, he wasn’t there. She could hear him in the kitchen doing something and occasionally speaking to one of the dogs.
She took the towel off her hair and hung it to dry then padded into the kitchen. The towel she had wrapped around her body covered more than most dresses these days, hanging down past her knees. But she was still very aware that she didn’t have anything on underneath it.
He studied her for a moment without saying anything, then finally nodded. “You look better. Do you feel better?”
“Yes. Much. I think I got overwhelmed out in the storm and my brain short-circuited. Sorry about that.”
He studied her with those deep brown eyes. “Maybe some soup will help you even more.”