he realized he was hurting her. With an oath, he let her go, but he dipped down, going for the keys. Since they were just out of his reach, he shoved himself half out of the chair to lunge at them.
Goddamn it, he hadn't braked the chair. It rolled back as he moved forward.
He was falling.
He heard her startled cry as the chair spun off and his elbow slammed into the floor near the brake pedal. The tractor wasn’t going anywhere, but that didn’t matter. The noise this close…
A fist closed around his whole upper body, driving the rage away and leaving oxygen-deprived terror, her face sucked away as he was left only a pinpoint of light.
“Shut it off,” he said, but he couldn’t get the words out. His chest had seized up, his throat closing as the rest of his body hit the ground. Everything below the waist collapsed in a disordered heap, the weight of it yanking at his rigid upper body, but his arm kept him hooked against the tractor floor. As she turned off the equipment, everything should have gone silent. But it couldn’t stop the roaring noise of that engine in his head.
She’d jumped off next to him and he heard Johnny’s feet pounding across the parking lot. Fuck, don’t let anyone come, don’t…
Too late. A vehicle was entering the parking lot, a pickup. Mac Dublin was calling out the open window, asking if he could help, what had happened…
Rory’s eyes met Daralyn’s. He had latched onto her again, physically confirming she was off the tractor. He was most definitely not hanging onto her because the thunder in his chest was painful, and clammy sweat covered his shaking body. All he saw were her hazel eyes. Then he heard her voice.
Not panic stricken by his craziness. Not upset with him. Instead, it was calm and easy as a steady blowing wind over the fields, rustling through the corn just before harvest.
“He’s just fine, Mr. Dublin. You’re here for your order, aren’t you? Johnny, will you go in and take care of Mr. Dublin? The tools he ordered are labeled in the back. He already paid for them. We’re okay. Please go take care of that.”
He could only see her, but whatever she’d said, however she’d delivered it, had both men backing off. Whether reluctantly or not, he didn’t know. All he knew was relief that they were gone. And that the roaring was dying away, leaving the quiet of her breath, her voice. A world without that tractor engine noise.
When it had rolled on him, the engine had stayed on. He’d been pinned under a screaming, hot-breathed monster.
Her hands were on his shoulders, one slipping down to tuck under his arm. “Can you turn, so we can prop you against a wheel? Is that okay?”
He wanted to be three counties away from the thing, but he needed to act like a sane person again. Tractor was off, he reminded himself. It was on level, stable ground. He helped her, hauling his weight around to put himself on the cushion of grass next to the back wheel. She helped adjust his legs out in front of him, since his hands were shaking. Then she was squatting on her heels, her eyes worried. He reclaimed her hand, held it too tightly.
“I don’t want you on a tractor,” he said. “Ever. Understand?”
She cupped his face, her fingers moving over his jaw, the hammer of his pulse in his throat. She stayed there, stroking, soothing it.
“Yes, Rory.”
His gaze moved to the track she’d taken across the lot. Nothing tricky to it, not on its face. But parallel to the area where she had planned to put the pine straw was a drainage ditch. Not a big, deep wide thing, but turn the tractor too far out to back the trailer, and it could dip into that ditch. The whole thing could go over in a somersault that could pitch the driver, land on him. The damn things were so susceptible to rolling if you didn’t pay attention. Like the pond embankment that had flanked the field he’d been tilling, the ground unstable from recent rains…
“Rory. You’re hurting me.”
He let out an oath at her quiet words and released her hand. She didn’t try to reassure him with things that wouldn’t have made any difference. She just sat down next to him, shoulder to shoulder, her knees drawn up, her sneaker pressed against his thigh. He dropped his hand so