into sleep.
From the dark depths of her slumber, her memory spun a too-familiar dream.
She was in the arena—not watching from the stands this time, but standing on the beaten earth, dressed in bullfighter gear, preparing to move in and do her job.
Jack was in the chutes, climbing aboard Train Wreck, a rank 1, 800-pound yellow bull with a string of injured riders behind him. Snotty, foul tempered, and mad at the world, he was the last bull she’d wanted her brother to draw.
She could hear Train Wreck snorting and grunting in the chute, banging against the sides. Somebody cursed. Then she saw the flicker of movement as Jack nodded, and the gate swung open.
Lexie held her breath as the monster bull kicked and bucked, raising clouds of dust every time his hooves struck the ground. Jack gripped the rope with his gloved left hand, keeping his right arm clear as the rules dictated. The timer seemed to crawl. Four seconds . . . five, six . . .
The bull spun left, flinging Jack hard to one side. Leaning crazily, he managed to keep his hold. At the eight-second whistle, he let go and flew free, landing with a bone-breaking crunch in the dirt. As the bullfighters moved in, he struggled to his knees.
Lexie, in her bullfighter gear, jumped in front of the bull, desperate to divert him. But Train Wreck, still bucking, couldn’t be stopped. His kicking back legs struck Jack in the head and came down on his body, crushing him into the dirt. Screams tore out of her. No, Jack! No! No . . .
“Lexie!” Someone was clasping her shoulders, shaking her gently. “Wake up, Lexie. You’re dreaming.”
Still gasping and whimpering, she opened her eyes. Shane was looking down at her. Even in the semidarkness, she could see the worried expression on his face.
“It’s all right,” he murmured, releasing his grip on her shoulders. “You’re safe.”
She shook her head. “Not me. Jack.”
“The accident.”
Lexie sighed. “If that’s what you want to call it. I keep hoping the dream will go away. But it keeps coming back. This time, I was right there with him, and I couldn’t stop what was happening.”
“Nobody could have stopped it. I was waiting my turn in the next chute. We all tried to stop it and get Jack out of the way. But it happened so fast, and that bull was like a runaway locomotive. I can’t even imagine what your family went through, watching it happen. A memory like that doesn’t just go away, Lexie. Maybe it never will.”
A shudder passed through her body. She blinked back an unwelcome surge of tears. “I tell myself Jack would want me to be strong like my sister Tess. I’ve never seen her break—not even when Jack died. She just moves ahead and does what needs to be done. Why can’t I be like—?”
She stopped talking and stared up at him. “Why am I telling you all this? I barely know you. And you certainly don’t . . .” Her voice quivered and broke as the tears began to flow. “You don’t care to listen to my whining.”
His breath eased out in a long moment of silence. “I think we know each other well enough,” he said, propping himself on one arm. “And I care more than you might think. Come here, Lexie. You strike me as a girl who could use a good spooning. And we could both use more sleep.” He patted the space he’d made next to him.
Her only response was a startled look. Had she misunderstood him—or had he just invited her to snuggle?
“Don’t worry,” he said. “If I were going to take advantage of you, it would be in a classier setting than this godforsaken dump of a motel room.”
Something in his manner made her want to trust him. And why not? Right now, she was a sobbing mess, hardly a woman any man would want to seduce.
Pushing caution aside, she moved next to him, her back spooned lightly against his body.
“There.” He rested an arm across her waist. “If you need more room, just roll aside—or give me a shove. I won’t take it personally. Now close your eyes and go to sleep. You’re safe, Lexie. No more bad dreams.”
Lexie sighed and willed herself to relax. She did feel safe. But safe wasn’t the only thing she felt. Every inch of her body tingled with the awareness of his masculine presence. She could tell Shane was making sure not to