The first aid kit came back out, helping me clean out her feet before wrapping them, then slipping on a pair of my socks to warm them. Captain slid down onto the floor beside the couch, anxiously turning up his head to look at her until, a long time later, the tears finally ceased, allowing him to ease into sleep.
As for me, I dozed in and out, getting maybe a total of three hours in short clips. But with my background, I was used to such things. Sleep deprivation, needing to be on my game regardless of how long I had gone without a proper REM cycle.
It was after dawn, all the dogs save for Captain outside running around, chasing squirrels. Whether they lived in a subdivision or in the woods, dogs would always be dogs. I was in the kitchen making coffee when I heard a low grumble, like stretching yourself awake.
My heart did the damnedest thing.
It skipped and stuttered a little.
Until I got a hold of myself, moving out of the nook of the kitchen and into the living space, finding her on her back, slow blinking up at the ceiling.
“The hell were you doing in the woods again?” I asked, cringing when her whole body jolted. Not having anyone to speak to on a general basis, I’d been told that I have issues modulating my voice appropriately – always talking too loudly or too quietly.
Her gaze shifted, chin tucking to her chest to look at me. Seeing, yet not exactly. There was a strange glaze there. Not the drugs like the last time. More like a wall. Like she had constructed something inside to distance herself from everything and everyone outside.
I would have preferred the drugs. At least they would wear off.
I knew a lot about building walls, about reinforcing them.
And, in my experience, there was no getting over or under them unless the person who constructed them showed you the trapdoor. Or finally figured out they didn’t need them anymore, knocked them down themselves.
My air rushed out in a sigh as she shrugged, turned carefully on her side, her arm dropping down off the side of the cushion, gently stroking down Captain’s neck.
“Her money’s in the nightstand,” her voice mumbled, sounding raspy, almost sick, giving me a moment to worry about the chill in the woods the night before, paired with the blood loss, the trauma to her system.
“Whose money? What nightstand?”
“Miller’s. The motel.” With that, and nothing more, she rolled onto her other side slowly, tucking her face into the cushions, sliding her legs up to make room for Cap to curl up at her feet.
I don’t know if she slept or if she was simply done talking to me. But I figured I would get nowhere by trying to be forceful with her. I imagined her system had enough of that already.
So I turned, grabbing my cell, moving out of the house into the fresh air, watching as the persistent rooster tried to weasel his way into the chicken enclosure as I dialed, walking around, looking for decent reception.
“What’s up?” Miller’s voice asked, sounding like her mouth was full.
It was rare Miller was up at this hour. Which likely meant that Gunn had woken her. Then placated her expected grumbling by supplying breakfast.
“She’s back.”
“Who’s back?”
“The woman. Captain was whining last night. I let him out, he lead me back to her.”
“Did the bastard find her?” she asked, voice serious, pissed. No one would claim Miller was hard to rile. She had a temper. It was somewhat easily sparked. But I didn’t expect it for a woman who was a practical stranger.
“I don’t think so. She’s not exactly in a talking mood.”
“Great. Two of you in one place,” she quipped. “Is she hurt?”
“Not that I can tell physically. But she’s… off. She cried for hours. And this morning, she is just, I don’t know, locked down. But she said something about your money and the motel nightstand.”
“I gave her money to help get her home since she had no cards or anything. Do you want me to go check out her room?”
“There’s more than one place to stay in town.”
“Yeah, but not a lot of places that would give someone with no credit card and no ID a room. We’ll track it down. I’ll get back to you.”
“Appreciate it.”
“Hey, Ranger,” Miller called, knowing I was quick to hang up when the important shit was over.
“Yeah?”
“Just… be gentle with her, yeah?” she half asked, half demanded.
“Wasn’t planning on forcing her into manual labor, Mills.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time. But no. I just mean… I don’t know. If she’s in a bad place, she’s not going to be taking care of herself or making demands. Maybe just… make her a plate when you make yourself one, leave it for her. That kind of thing.”