Cowboy's Vow To Protect. Carla Cassidy

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      Madison’s stomach rolled with nausea. After throwing up once, she raced into the house, vaguely aware of Flint running after her in alarm. She ran into the bathroom and threw up once again, at the same time waving Flint away. “I’m okay,” she finally managed to say to him.

      The nausea had finally passed. She closed the bathroom door and rinsed her mouth several times and then brushed her teeth. Thank goodness she’d set her toothbrush in the bathroom earlier. Oh God, how embarrassing. The last thing a woman ever wanted a man...any man...to see was her tossing her cookies.

      She opened the bathroom door to find Flint on the other side, his handsome features wreathed with worry lines. “Maddy, are you okay?”

      “I’m fine,” she assured him. “I just got a sudden bout of nausea. It’s all gone now.”

      “Was it maybe the eggs? You told me you made scrambled eggs earlier. I didn’t check the date on them. Things are usually pretty fresh at the grocery store.”

      “No, I’m sure it wasn’t the eggs. I... I’ve just always had a ridiculously weak stomach.” At the moment she was just tired. “Really, Flint, I’m okay.”

      The concern remained on his face. “If you say so.”

      She stepped out of the bathroom. “I think maybe I’ll just stretch out on the sofa for a little while. I didn’t get any sleep last night and that might have contributed to my upset stomach.”

      “Okay. I’ll be right outside if you need me for anything.”

      Minutes later he was back outside and she was on the sofa. She was disappointed. She had been hoping for a little more conversation with Flint. She didn’t care what they talked about; she’d just wanted a little nonthreatening human interaction.

      For almost three months she’d been locked up in her trailer, not speaking to or interacting with anyone. She’d quit her job and had her groceries and anything else she’d needed delivered to her house. The only place she’d ventured out during that time was to the library a couple of times.

      It had been fear and trauma that had locked her inside the trailer. The utter loneliness had come soon after. Normally, she was a social animal. She’d loved working at the grocery store where she got to visit with people as they came through her line to check out.

      It was amazing how much people would tell her about themselves, about their lives, when she was scanning their food items. It was also pretty amazing how much you could learn about people just by seeing what food they chose to put in their home.

      Bang. Bang. Bang. The sound of Flint’s hammer hitting wood sounded. She closed her eyes. These nausea bouts never lasted long but always left her tired. Hopefully, in fifteen or twenty minutes or so, she’d feel like going back outside to watch Flint.

      And in the brief moments she’d been outside, watching him had been a pleasure. In his dark brown T-shirt and jeans, he was a long, lean glass of hunk.

      Despite his leanness, his arms were firmly muscled and his shoulders were broad. He was the type of man she might have once dreamed about. She didn’t dream anymore. She only had nightmares. And she always dreaded the coming of night.

      At least for tonight she’d have a real bed rather than the hay in a barn like she’d had last night. She couldn’t believe the good luck that it had been Flint who had found her and he’d had a place to bring her, a place that, according to him, few people knew about.

      The car repairs shouldn’t cost too much and could be finished quickly so she could be on her way as far away from Bitterroot, Oklahoma, as possible. It was the only way she would be safe.

      As the dark shadows of twilight began to fall, she got up and turned on the lamps on either end table. They provided a cozy, warm golden glow, but they couldn’t stop the anxiety that bubbled up inside her as night approached.

      You’re safe here, an inner voice whispered in her head. Nobody can hurt you here. Except Flint. She frowned. So far Flint had been nothing but courteous and respectful toward her. Rationally, she knew not all men were monsters and so far there wasn’t a hint of monster in Flint.

      The hammering halted and moments later a soft knock fell on the door. He opened the door and peeked his head in. “I just wanted to check to see if you were all right before I head out of here for the night.”

      She motioned him inside and got up off the sofa. “Would you like another cup of coffee before you head back to the ranch?” She just wanted him to stay for a bit and talk to her, to ward off the terror of the night by ending the evening with a little conversation.

      He looked at her in surprise. “Uh...okay.”

      “Please, sit and let me make it for you.” She hurried over to the coffee machine and placed a pod in it as he washed his hands in the sink. He then moved to the table and sat.

      “Did you get a lot of work done?” she asked.

      “I got about half of the deck laid. Be careful if you go outside. I wouldn’t want you to trip and hurt yourself.”

      “I have no intentions of venturing outside of this cabin until my car is ready or you’re here,” she replied. She carried the coffee to him and then sat across the table from him.

      “Oh, that reminds me. I told Larry at the car dealership to call the number here in the cabin so he can speak with you directly about whatever repairs are needed.”

      “Thank you,” she replied. “Hopefully, I’ll hear from him soon.”

      He curled his hands around the coffee cup. His hands were large and work-worn and she wondered...darn, what was wrong with her? Why would she even wonder what those hands might feel like stroking up and down her back? That was the last thing she should be thinking about.

      “So do you have a particular destination in mind when you leave here?” he asked.