he’d settled down until the words escaped him.
“What are you punishing yourself for?”
She drew a sharp breath and her gaze landed on him with almost physical force. The woman she had been before all this. Powerful. In control. And right now angry with him. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Staying alert is just an excuse right now. You know why they give you pain meds? Not just to make you more comfortable. No, they give them to you because pain is exhausting and can delay your recovery. Plus if you can’t move around easily enough you won’t limber up. So take a dang pill, give yourself some rest and start using some of those parts that hurt too much to want to move.”
Those sherry-brown eyes glared at him, but he kept his mouth shut and waited it out. Finally her expression relaxed.
“I shouldn’t be doing this to you,” she said.
“Doing what?”
“Moving in on you, taking over your life. And now there seems to be no way out.”
“I know I’m irritating, but that bad?”
Her face relaxed the rest of the way. “You’re not irritating. What’s irritating is how long it’s taking me to get back to normal. What’s irritating is how poorly thought-out this whole trip of mine was. I figured that if I just got in a car and roamed aimlessly, I’d be as safe as any safe house. Maybe safer. But now I’m pinned down.”
“In a kill box,” he said, using her earlier description.
“Yeah, and I should have thought that through, shouldn’t I? But I didn’t. I’m angry with myself.”
He reckoned he could understand that, but didn’t see how it would help anything. “What’s done is done, Erin. You’ve been through a lot. Some poor decision-making is to be expected and if that’s the worst of it, you’re doing good. None of us thinks well when we’ve been through a trauma. Besides, I don’t think your decisions were all that bad. How were you to know you wouldn’t just sail to wherever without being discovered?”
Her jaw tightened. “I should have thought. After all, somehow this guy found out about me to begin with. Somehow that didn’t seem to enter my calculations.”
Why would it? he wondered. Not very many serial bombers chased a target across country. The Unabomber had, but he’d done it by mail. “It could have been a slipup. Yes, your bosses are concerned there might be another one, but truth is, they don’t know that. Nobody knows that yet. So they’re being hypercautious. So are we. Just in case.”
At last she leaned back in the chair, wincing a bit. “Just in case,” she repeated. “Yeah. And it’s causing a whole bunch of trouble.”
“Not really. Hey, you’re giving me a break from prowling the roads, writing tickets and trying to convince couples I know that they really don’t want to kill each other.”
At last he drew a small laugh from her. Relief filled him. “It’s still not fair to you,” she said. “Me invading your house, possibly with a whole lot of trouble coming.”
“I volunteered,” he said quietly. “Nobody made me.”
She let go of it at last, and edged herself forward in the chair. “Half a pain pill,” she said.
He bit back an offer to get it for her. “Your bags are in your room.”
“Thanks.”
She grimaced a bit as she rose, then stood still as if mentally testing herself. He had some idea how maddening this had to be for her. He’d felt that way after his own wounding.
He had left the door to her bedroom wide open and figured she could find it without him hovering. She didn’t want to be hovered over, he could tell. Events had taken her independence from her, and she was struggling to take back every bit she could. He listened to her slowly walk down the hall, and when she didn’t call out, he guessed she’d found her room.
He picked up his coffee, found it had gone cold and headed out with both their mugs to get fresh. Along the way he opened a couple of windows to let the breeze in. He returned just in time to see her settling into the rocker again. She’d dispensed with her jacket, revealing a sleeveless top that bared her arms...and some scars. A few small burns, a few cuts that had been stitched. Still angry looking.
But she hadn’t ditched her shoulder holster. Interesting. He set the fresh coffee beside her and saw her take the pill with the glass of water he’d brought her earlier.
“Okay, rainbows and unicorns,” she said.
He laughed. “Maybe you should ditch the gun, then.”
She shook her head slightly. “Half a pill doesn’t make me woozy.”
But it was what she didn’t say that hit him. She didn’t feel safe anymore without her weapon. Not even here. Not even now. And maybe she was right that half a pill wouldn’t affect her too much. In which case it wouldn’t do too much for her pain.
“God, you’re a pain,” he said finally, keeping his tone mild.
“Really?” she asked acidly. “Okay, I’ll leave.”
He stood. “Just looking for an excuse, aren’t you? But where will you go? You really want to be out there alone with this guy?”
“He probably isn’t anywhere near here yet. I don’t have to go over the mountains. I can head north...”
“More mountains.”
“Back to Denver, then.”
“Some mountains.” He felt a smile trying to be born, but stomped down on it. “Look, Erin, if you take so little pain medication that it doesn’t help, why bother? If you have so little trust in my department...well, I guess we can’t just make that happen, can we? So do you trust anyone?”
“Not really,” she said baldly. “Not right now.”
“Fair enough.” And it was fair. She didn’t know him from Adam. They’d met less than twenty-four hours ago. What else did she have to judge them by?
“Oh, to heck with it,” she said abruptly and reached for the pill bottle she’d brought out from her bedroom. It was surprisingly large for pain meds. “One more won’t kill me. Is that trust enough for you?”
Shocked, he fell silent. What was she trying to prove? That she trusted a man she hardly knew? Why? “I can’t figure you out,” he said finally.
She smiled sourly. “Few can.” After popping another pill—a half? He didn’t know—she reached for her pistol and removed it from the holster, placing it on the table. “All better now?”
“Not if you don’t feel safe,” he admitted frankly.
“I haven’t felt safe since the incident. Nothing new in that. Might as well get used to it. You’re in charge now, Deputy.”
That, he thought, might be the crux of all of this. A sense of control was important to cops. All cops. He’d just badgered her into giving it up. Smart move, he thought irritably. What now?
Fifteen minutes later the pills started hitting. He could see it in her softening posture, in the way her breathing grew more relaxed. That much was good.
“So you lived here with your mother?” she asked.
“Yeah. When I quit the force in Denver and came up here, she was living all alone. It made sense to move in with her. She needed some looking after since my dad died. Things were pretty generally going to hell, and she wasn’t all that well. Diabetes was catching up with her.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me, too. It was impossible to convince her that insulin shots and oral meds didn’t make it possible to continue eating down-home cooking. Stubborn woman.”
“Seems