Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 79275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
* * *
I feel someone sit beside me, but I know that no one’s there. It must be Rose.
“It’s fascinating to me that you can just wander around the property at will,” I say aloud, but I don’t look up from my book. “You’re not tied to any one spot.” I continue writing.
* * *
I found a whole bunch of Rose’s things in the barn loft. Just in time, too, because I was about to start the demo so that I can renovate it in order to open the B&B.
* * *
A whoosh of air swirls around me, pushing my hair across my face, and I look up to brush it aside. Something tells me to stand and look down at the rocks that lead to the sand below. It’s a bit treacherous, but with patience and care, a person can maneuver their way down to the beach from here.
I stand and look down, shocked to see a man halfway between here and the sand. With one glance, I can tell that the tide is coming in, but he’s just standing there, looking down.
“Hey!” I yell down. “Get up here! Hey!”
But he doesn’t move. I can’t tell if he’s ignoring me or if he can’t hear me. When I squint and concentrate harder, I realize that it’s Wolfe.
“Wolfe!” I yell and start to ease my way down to him. I’ve always hated climbing down from up here. The rocks are slippery, and my parents drilled it into us that it’s too dangerous.
They weren’t wrong.
“Wolfe!” I call again. “Damn it, what are you doing?”
When I finally reach him, sprays of water are almost hitting him now because the tide is coming in so fast.
“Hey,” I say and touch his arm. He recoils. “Oh, God. Head?”
He nods slowly.
“Okay. Take my hand. I need you to focus, Wolfe. The tide’s coming in. Fast. I’ll get you up. Just follow me.”
“Got it,” he says, his voice rough with pain. I slowly start the ascent. My heart’s pounding, not just with the effort of climbing the rocks but also with fear. My God, what if I hadn’t seen him?
What if Rose hadn’t alerted me?
“We’re almost there,” I assure him as calmly as I can, even though my stomach roils with nerves.
At least going up is easier than climbing down.
Finally, when we reach the top, I lead Wolfe to the gazebo so I can grab my journal on the way to the house.
“I’ll just go home,” he says roughly.
“No way. You’re coming inside with me.”
He doesn’t argue, and with his hand still firmly in my grasp, I lead him into the house, through the living space, and to my bedroom, where he slowly lowers himself onto the bed.
“I’ll be back with some ice,” I whisper and hurry out to the kitchen.
So, this is what it feels like to have an adrenaline rush during an emergency.
My hands shake as I grab a gel ice pack from the freezer, then wrap it in a tea towel and hurry back to the bedroom.
“Thanks,” Wolfe whispers, gratefully taking the ice pack from me and pressing it to his forehead.
I lower the blinds on the window as quietly as possible, and when I turn back to him, I can see by his breathing that he’s fallen asleep.
God, he must be exhausted. What happened down there? I know without a doubt that he’s not careless enough to go for a walk down on the beach when he has a headache.
It must have come on fast and taken him by surprise.
I ease down onto the bed and lie facing him, watching his face in the dim light. His breathing is even, but every once in a while, his brow furrows as if he’s in pain, even in sleep.
I feel so helpless. I wish I could do more for him than offer a dark room and an ice pack. I know there are medication options for migraines. Is he just too stubborn to take any? Or maybe it doesn’t work for him.
I have so many questions.
But I also finally—really—get it. There’s no way he could drive a car at two hundred miles per hour with the risk of a headache like this coming on at any given moment.
I want to lean over and kiss his forehead, but I remember how he reacted to my touch that day in his house and even down on the cliffs just a few moments ago.
It hurts him.
Instead, I just blow him a kiss and then tiptoe out of the room, silently closing the door behind me.
I’ll let him sleep it off.
Relieved that Wolfe is safe, I take my journal to my favorite chair by the windows, but I don’t open it again to write.
Instead, I watch the spray of water through the window. It may take roughly six hours for the tide to change, but it sure can sneak up on you.