She shrugged. “I dunno. But I like to read romance. I like to write romance. There’s nothing wrong with that, right?”
“No, girl,” he told her in a soft voice. “There’s nothing wrong with that at all.”
Her shoulders relaxed and she gave him a tentative smile. “I should go to bed. You need some sleep. Is your head all right? Would you like some more painkillers?”
She really was sweet.
“I’m fine, girl,” he said gruffly. “Get yourself to bed. Sleep in tomorrow. I don’t want your ass out of that room before ten a.m.”
“Seriously. How has no one murdered you already?”
“It’s a mystery for the ages.”
* * *
As she walked into her bedroom, she was aware she was smiling.
Immediately she frowned. She felt light. Almost bubbly. Could be the fact that she hadn’t had much sleep in the last week. Or the week before that. Or that she was simply lonely and enjoying having people around. Although the fact that she’d hidden herself in her office most of the night probably negated that.
Or maybe it was that the two men in her house were complete hunks and for the first time since Dave died her body felt alive. She was interested. Aroused.
She nearly gasped at that realization.
She shouldn’t feel like that, right?
It felt like a betrayal. Dave had been everything to her. She’d loved him with all of herself. Had planned on spending the rest of her life with him.
Dave’s gone.
Confused, upset, she moved to her bed and picked up her stuffed bumblebee, Bumbly. She’d always loved bumblebees, but this toy was special because she’d picked it out with Dave. She also grabbed her snuggly, which was actually just a shirt cut up. Dave’s shirt. When Dave was alive, she’d had a soft, fluffy pink blankie. After he’d died, she’d started sleeping in his shirts. But they hadn’t exactly been comfortable. So she’d taken to sleeping with one of his shirts next to her, cuddling it. In the end, she cut one up so the buttons didn’t end up under her face as she slept, leaving little indents in her skin.
She rearranged the giant sleep pillow. It was long and curled at the top so she slept surrounded by it on both sides. She knew it was something that pregnant women usually used to help support their bellies. But she liked the feeling of being enveloped by it. Like she was in a giant hug.
The kind Dave used to give her.
She climbed into bed and drew up her covers. Her sheets were white flannel with little dachshunds on them. And her duvet cover matched. She pulled Bumbly close. Dave had taken her to a shop in Bozeman to get him, one of the few times they’d been into the city.
As soon as she’d seen him, she’d known he was the stuffy for her. Bumbly was the cutest bumblebee ever, in her opinion. But even better, was what he represented.
A time in her life when she was completely and utterly loved. Safe. Cherished.
Tears dripped down her face. Guilt filled her. She shouldn’t be reacting to Isaac or Archer. It wasn’t right. She wasn’t ready.
She couldn’t say goodbye. Not yet.
9
A strange feeling filled her as she stared down the tree lying across the road.
She couldn’t figure out if it was worry or relief.
She didn’t think the wind had been that strong last night. Usually powerful winds freaked her out. But this tree looked old and rotted. It probably hadn’t taken much to push it over. And this was further down the mountain where the wind could really rip through.
What was she going to do with the two Docs now?
She’d gotten up early, surprised when she’d been able to sneak past Doc. He didn’t seem like the type to miss much. But he’d been snoring softly, his feet hanging off the end of the sofa. She should have pushed harder for him to take her bed. He was probably going to wake up all stiff and sore.
Not that she probably would have been able to convince him. He was more stubborn than an old goat.