“I’m sure.”
Still, he hated to leave her alone when he suspected her hands were still trembling. “That incident with Alice tonight really rattled you, didn’t it?”
“I was concerned,” she replied a little stiltedly. “It was bad enough that she was out running around with a bunch of kids I don’t really know, but it was really unlike her to be an hour later getting home than she agreed to.”
“I know. She gave everyone a scare.”
“I hope she won’t do anything like that again.”
He gave a little shrug. “I hope not, too, but I’m sure she’ll misbehave at least a few more times before she’s grown. Most teenagers do, even the best ones.”
“Unfortunately, you’re probably right.” Jacqui shifted in the bed, pulling the sheet a little higher.
He supposed she was self-conscious at lying in the bed in her nightshirt with him sitting fully dressed gazing down at her. He really should let her go back to sleep—but he had to admit he was reluctant to leave. What he really wanted to do was crawl beneath that sheet with her, no longer fully dressed.
Instead, he asked a question he suspected she wouldn’t really want him to ask. “Was a teen driver behind the wheel when your sister died?”
She went very still and, though it was difficult to be certain in the dim room, he thought he saw her pale in response to the clearly unexpected question. “Yes,” she said after a taut pause.
“That’s why you worry so much about Alice riding with teenagers.”
“I would worry about that regardless.”
“So would I. But I wondered if that was what triggered your nightmare. Were you dreaming about your sister?”
He wasn’t sure she was going to answer. Finally, she turned her face away from him and murmured, “Alice and Olivia were both in my dream. It was bad.”
Mitch reached out to stroke a damp strand of hair from her face. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how much it must still hurt you.”
She looked up at him then with her chin lifted. He guessed that Jacqui didn’t like to be seen looking so vulnerable. “It was just a nightmare, Mitch. I don’t have them often. I’ll be fine. Go get some sleep.”
He nodded, then made himself stand. “All right. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your concern,” she said, her too-formal tone making him smile.
He paused in the doorway to glance back toward the bed. “Jacqui? Just so you’ll know, I’m not entirely noble. I was very tempted to climb into that bed with you.”
“I was very tempted to ask you to,” she replied after only a momentary pause.
He groaned. “Thanks for sharing that. Now I won’t sleep tonight, either.”
He thought he heard her laugh softly when he closed her door behind him. At least he’d left her smiling, he thought as he crossed the hall to his own lonely, borrowed bed. For a moment anyway. He would bet her smile had faded the moment he’d left her alone in the dark.
Pulling his shirt over his head, he tossed it onto a chair and reached for his belt buckle. He found it difficult to smile now. He kept hearing the echo of that soft, sad sound Jacqui had made in her tormented sleep.
It wasn’t too much of a stretch to guess that Jacqui had been the teenage driver when her sister had died. And it killed him to think she was still carrying the guilt from that long-ago accident. Maybe it was the physician in him that wanted to do something to alleviate her pain—or maybe he was beginning to care too much about her. The problem was, he could repair a broken bone—but a broken heart was beyond his skills.
Although Jacq
ui slept only half an hour later than she usually arose, Mitch was gone by the time she woke, showered and dressed the next morning. She had to admit she was relieved. She wondered if he had deliberately slipped out before she got up to avoid any potential awkwardness from the night before.
It had definitely been a eventful evening, she thought, busying herself with housework in a futile attempt to keep herself from replaying every minute of last night. Heated, arousing kisses on the couch. The disturbing call from Alice’s grandmother. The nightmare—still much too clear in her mind. Then waking to find Mitch sitting on her bed, his touch so gentle on her face that she’d had to forcibly stop herself from burrowing straight into his arms.
She wasn’t accustomed to having anyone there when she woke after a bad dream. As much as she told herself she wasn’t a child and didn’t need to be comforted after a nightmare, it had still been nice to have someone stroke her and speak to her soothingly until the horrifying images faded. She could get used to that—which was an unsettling thought.
Maybe it was because of that dream in which she had lost both Olivia and Alice in the devastating car accident, but she couldn’t be too angry with the girl when she returned home, chastened and wary. Her grandparents dropped her off. Jacqui invited them in for coffee, but they were in a hurry to return home. Jacqui noted that the couple parted affectionately with Alice, who saw them off with a murmured promise that she would never cause them worry again. Apparently, she’d gotten a good talking to from her grandparents—only a hint of what would come from her father, Jacqui thought with a twinge of sympathy.
“I’m not going to fuss at you anymore,” she said after Alice had sullenly apologized to her again. “It’s up to your dad to take it from here. All I’m going to say is that when you’re left in my charge, you’re going to have to follow my rules. You knew I wouldn’t approve of you riding in a car with Milo, but you implied to your grandparents that Milo is a trusted friend of the family. That was both dishonest and dangerous, Alice.”