The Delivery of Decor (Shiloh Ridge Ranch in Three Rivers #7) - Liz Isaacson Page 0,41
tears while Ward stroked her hair and whispered, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry, Dot,” over and over again.
Eventually, she quieted and so did he. Dot didn’t close her eyes. She watched the fire to make sure it blazed heartily, and she listened to the cadence of Ward’s breathing to make sure he didn’t fall asleep.
He didn’t seem to be lethargic and about to lose consciousness anymore, but he didn’t say anything either. Dot wondered what he was thinking, but she enjoyed this cocoon they’d made for themselves, and she didn’t want anything to break into it or disturb it.
Chapter Thirteen
“Are you awake?” Ward asked.
“Yes,” Dot said. She shifted and sat up. Ward was very aware that he only wore his boxer shorts and Dot was fully clothed. “I’ll get you some clothes, okay? Should I reheat the towels?”
“I think I’m good,” he said, watching her rise. He felt five thousand percent better than he had thirty minutes ago, and he was well-aware that Dorothy Crockett had saved his life. “I’d love some clothes, and then I’d love to know how you found me.”
Dot nodded and went down the hall without saying anything.
Ward sighed and leaned his head back against the couch. “Idiot,” he chastised himself. “You shouldn’t have gone out there without a rope or without telling Dot to call Ranger if you weren’t back in ten minutes.”
He didn’t know how long he’d been outside, but it had felt like years. He’d lost feeling in his toes and fingers, though he could definitely feel them blazing now. They pricked with life, and he closed his eyes and said, “Thank you, Lord, for preserving my life. For sending Dot, who seems to know exactly what to do.”
“Amen,” Dot said, and Ward’s eyes shot open. She stood at the end of the couch, holding the shorts and T-shirt he’d worn last night. “I found these on the chair in the corner. Seemed safe.”
Ward reached for the garments. “Thanks.” He stood and stepped into the shorts, covering the most private parts of himself. He fumbled with the shirt, though his fingers were working just fine. They trembled a little bit, and he looked up to find Dot watching with those eagle eyes of hers.
Her gaze switched to his chest, and she licked her lips and swallowed. Ward’s face burned, and he should be glad for the extra body heat. He was, and he was glad to know Dot seemed to like what she saw.
“More tea?” she asked.
“No, thank you,” he said. “I could use some more to eat though.”
“Cold cereal?” she asked. “I can do that like a pro.” She gave him a grin and walked into the kitchen. He liked her wearing his clothes, and he liked her presence in his house. He managed to get himself dressed before she returned with the honey nut Cheerios doused in milk.
He sat back down on the couch and she sat on the other end of it. “You’re real good at building a fire,” he said.
“I worked as a boy scout camp counselor for a few years,” she said. “We had to teach the boys how to do stuff like that.”
“A boy scout camp?”
“I can assure you that I don’t like campfires or s’mores as much as you do.” She gave him a brilliant smile and Ward dang near threw his bowl and lunged at her. He had to kiss her again soon, but he wasn’t going to do it with milky breath, only a few minutes after an embarrassing encounter that could’ve ended his life.
“I think you’re the one with all the layers,” he said. “Boy scout camp?” He smiled and shook his head before taking another bite of cereal. “Did they teach you about hypothermia there too?”
“Yes,” she said simply.
He nodded and kept eating, suddenly ravenous.
“Ward,” she said, her voice clear and serious.
He looked over to her, the honey and nut and milk one of the best things he’d eaten in a while. Maybe he just loved honey nut Cheerios. “Yeah?”
“I have another confession.”
His heart tried to squeeze itself into a box two sizes too small. He took another bite and ate it before speaking. “Go on then.”
“Don’t you have any confessions?”
“Probably,” he said, thinking of one he liked to get out of the way when it came to women. At least women he was serious about, and he’d never been as serious about anyone as he was about Dot. He cleared his throat. “Yes, I have one I can think of.”