She didn’t exist. She hadn’t been born. She—
“Sienna?”
She blinked. Jesse stood outside the bedroom, looking so solid, so real. She wanted to fling herself into his arms. Instead, she gave him what she hoped was a there-you-are-and-thanks-for-everything smile.
“Hi.”
“You okay?”
So much for the thanks-for-everything smile. Not that the question meant anything. He asked it with all the interest of a stranger on the street.
“Yes, yes, I’m fine. I was just…” She gestured behind her, toward the bathroom. “I was thinking it feels great to have showered. I hope you don’t mind…?”
“No. Of course not.” A brief pause. “Well—”
“Yes. Well…” Her lips felt as if the smile were stuck to them. “I, ah, I want to thank you for—”
“There’s coffee.”
“Coffee,” she said brightly, and flashed another smile. God, she was turning into a TV commercial. “Actually, I thought—I thought I’d just—just, you know, get going….”
“Right. I figured that. Coffee, and then I’ll drive you into Bozeman.”
“Just point me to the highway and I’ll get a lift.”
“No.” The determination in the single word surprised her. “I mean—” He cleared his throat. “I’ll take you to town.”
Of course he would. That way he’d be sure she wasn’t going to turn up on his property again.
“Thank you. If you don’t mind, I’d just as soon pass on the coffee. Okay?”
He nodded, then looked her over. “Sorry I don’t have anything that would fit you better.”
“This is fine.”
“Your sneakers are probably stiff with mud—”
“They’ll do.”
“Good. Good.” A muscle knotted in his jaw. “Look, Sienna, about last night—”
“I’m just going to get those sneakers,” she said quickly, brushing past him.
She didn’t get very far. His hand curled around her arm. “I was out of line.”
“We already talked about this, remember? I’m as responsible for what happened as you are.”
“Still, I owe you an apology.”
“Fine. Apology accepted—assuming you’ve accepted mine.”
Jesse held out his hand. She looked at it for a long moment before she took it.
“Deal,” he said.
She nodded. “Deal.”
He smiled. So did she. But when she looked up at him, she saw an intensity in his dark eyes that left her breathless, and saw, too, a question she could answer simply by taking a step toward him.
But she didn’t. She couldn’t. Because if he took her in his arms again, she would be more lost than she already was.
The handshake ended.
“I’ll bring the truck around front,” he said, as if the moment had not happened, and she said, “Fine,” and moved past him, and knew that the sooner she got out of this place, the better.
Because of detritus from yesterday’s storm, the drive took almost two hours.
Downed trees, a swollen creek, a fallen power line all required Jesse’s concentration. Just as well. It gave him a reason to keep quiet after a few desultory remarks.
He had no idea what to say to the woman seated beside him.
She hadn’t been big on conversation, either. In fact, she’d only made one remark since getting into his Chevy Silverado. She’d looked at his eight-track tape player and given a choked laugh.
“Something funny?”
“No. No, not at all. It’s just…that’s an eight-track, right?”
His brows lifted. “What else would it be?”
An iPod, she thought giddily, and fought back a sense of rising hysteria.
“Want to hear something?”
She nodded.
“Pick whatever you like,” he said, jerking his head toward the box of tapes on the floor near her feet.
“The Eagles,” she said, with that little laugh again, as if she’d stumbled across something completely unexpected. “Oh, I love their music! You, too?”
“Yeah,” he’d said. “They’re okay.”
The truth was, they were his favorite band, but admitting that seemed to be admitting too much.
Now, as they approached the center of town, “One of These Nights” playing softly in the background, Jesse cleared his throat.
“There’s a hotel on Main Street that’s not too bad.”
Sienna swung toward him. She knew he’d said something, but her brain seemed to have stopped working.
“What?”
He reached out, silenced the tape player.
“I said, there’s a hotel on Main that’s passable.”