Courage by Kristen Proby

Chapter 6

~Sam~

I’ve been tired before. You don’t work the job I do with its demanding hours and the physical demands every day without the exhaustion that comes with it.

But this week has been a bitch and a half.

We lost a large barn and several outbuildings at the Blakely homestead. It was devastating for their farm. And it burned for days. Several of us stayed out there around the clock to ensure the fire didn’t spread underground and head for the main house.

I’m exhausted and still filthy, despite a long shower at the station.

And I’m irritable.

The apartment I’ve been renting over the past several months is not home. I hate this place. It’s just wall-to-wall boxes from floor to ceiling. Some of it is my stuff, other things are from Monica’s house. I could shove it all into a storage unit, but I haven’t had the time or the energy to deal with it.

I’m hardly here anyway.

I shuffle through several days-worth of mail, then toss it on the table and open the fridge. My stomach has been growling all day.

I have three beers from a six-pack I bought in May, a full container of brown matter that used to be guac, and half a pizza that I don’t even remember buying.

“Shit.”

I slam the door shut just as my phone rings.

“Waters.”

“What are you doing?” Liam Cunningham has been my best friend since childhood. And because he’s married to a princess, he’s rarely in town these days. But they’ve been sticking close since the accident. I think both Liam and his wife Ellie, who is also one of Tash’s closest friends, want to keep an eye on us.

“Staring into the abyss of my empty fridge.”

“Fun times,” he says good-naturedly.

“I hate this place. This apartment. Since I sold my house just before Mon—before she died, and I needed a place to park my ass, I took the first thing that came up. Rentals in this town are few and far between and cost a shit-ton of money. But this apartment isn’t home. Being here depresses me.”

“Where do you want to be?”

Natasha fills my mind, her sweet smile and cozy home. The kids with their giggles.

“Sam?”

“I should be at Tash’s.” I sit in my only chair and rub my eyes. “But I just got in from a seventy-two-hour shift, and I’m fucking exhausted.”

“If you want to be with Tash, go be with her.”

I frown. “You make it sound so easy, man.”

“Why isn’t it? Don’t overthink it. If that’s where you want to be, go. She’ll welcome you there, and you know it.”

“I always accuse her of being the overthinker.”

I scratch my cheek, thinking it over. Then shake my head when I realize what I’m doing.

“Did you need something? Sorry, I just dumped all over you.”

“I was just checking in. Let’s do a beer night later this week. Ellie and I have to go to London for a while. We leave next Monday. I’d like to see you before we go.”

“Consider it done. I’m in. But not here. It’s not fit for company.”

“I’ll text you. Go hang out at Tash’s. And get some rest.”

“Thanks.”

He hangs up, and I only have to think it over for about thirty seconds. He’s right. I don’t want to be here in this depressing mess of a place that is most certainly not my home.

So, I grab a bag, throw some clean clothes into it, and lock the place up behind me before climbing into my truck and driving across town to Tash’s place.

It’s been raining for the past twelve hours. The kind that settles in and lets you know it’s going to stay for a while. We were due. It was a dry, hot summer, and we paid dearly for it with massive wildfires and our fair share of residential blazes, as well.

Montana needs the rain.

I park in front of Tash’s house and leave my bag in the truck, just in case she kicks me out.

Not that I think she will, but I learned a long time ago not to take anything for granted when it comes to women.

Before I can even knock on the door, it swings open, and an excited Kevin grins up at me. “You’re here!”

“I am. You shouldn’t open the door like that.”

“You’re not a stranger,” he points out and opens it wide so I can get inside. “You’re Uncle Sam.”

“True enough. Where are Tash and Kels?”

“In the kitchen, doing women stuff.”

I cock a brow and ruffle his hair. “If your Aunt Tash hears you talk like that, she’ll have your hide. Let’s go find them.”

“What’s a hide?”

“Your skin.”

“Yuck.”

“Now, give that a stir. Just a light one. You don’t want to send red sauce flying all over your stovetop.” Tash and Kelsey are looking down into a pot of sauce on the stove with Kelsey standing on a chair.

It’s kind of adorable. I whip out my phone and snap a photo before they look my way.

“Uncle Sam is here,” Kevin announces. “And he said you’re going to take my skin off.”

Tash turns and raises an eyebrow. “Well, what did you do?”

“Nothing.” Kevin’s grin is sly as he leans on his aunt. “I love you.”

“Uh-huh. I love you, too. Hey there.” She smiles up at me. “You look exhausted.”

“It’s been a long week.”

“Well, you’re just in time for dinner,” she says. “We’re making spaghetti, and that feeds an army, so I hope you’re hungry.”

“I’m starving, actually.”

“Great.” Her eyes narrow on me. “Kids, why don’t you go watch some Scooby?”

“But I’m helping with the s’ghetti,” Kelsey points out. “It’s my job today.”

“It just has to cook for a while,” Tash replies. “Go ahead and take a break. I’ll let you know when it’s time to stir again.”

The kids run for the living room, leaving us alone, so I pull her to me and kiss the hell out of her.

And just like that, I feel better.

“Hey,” I whisper.

“Hi there.” She leans her cheek on my chest. “I’m glad you came by. I was going to call you later.”

“I tried to get time to call you, but that fire was a mess.” I sigh and hug her close. “One of the worst I’ve seen.”

“Is everyone okay?”

“The humans are,” is all I’ll say. She doesn’t need to hear about what happened to the animals. “Lost some buildings and crops. It helped that it cooled down so much last night, and the rain started early this morning.”

“I’m glad. Do you get a couple of days off now to rest?”

“Three,” I confirm. “I plan to sleep at least one of those.”

“I don’t blame you. I’ll get you fed so you can get home to bed.” I frown, and she tilts her head to the side.

“What is it?”

“I thought I might bunk here. Stay with you and the kiddos. You’ve been with them for a few days all by yourself. And, honestly, I missed all of you.”

Natasha wraps her arms around me again and presses herself to me in a gentle hug.

“You’re definitely welcome to stay. In fact, I have something to show you. Come on.” She takes my hand and leads me through the living room, catching the kids’ attention.

“Are you showing him?” Kelsey asks and bounces to her feet to follow us.

“Sure am,” Tash replies as she opens a door and steps inside. “Ta-da!”

It’s her third bedroom, all cleaned up, with a queen bed and a dresser.

“What happened to all of your stuff?”

“I cleaned it out.” She smooths the navy blue comforter on the bed. “I got rid of some of it, stored the rest, neatly, in the garage. I figured with the kids here and everything, you might want to stay sometimes. And my couch isn’t the most comfortable for sleeping.”

I narrow my eyes and reach for her hand.

But she pulls away when the kids both walk into the room.

I don’t like that. I don’t like it at all.

Before I can say something, Kelsey slips her little hand into mine and smiles sweetly. “Do you like it?”

“It’s great.”

“We helped,” Kevin announces. “We each earned a dollar, too.”

“Good job.” I give him a fist bump, and then the twins are off again, hurrying out to finish watching their show. I focus all of my attention on Tash and watch as she bites her lower lip.

I want to tease those lips. And every other part of her, now that I think about it.

“I’m not sleeping in here,” I inform her.

“You don’t like it?”

“I like it fine, but why in the hell would I crash in here when I can lie next to you all night?”

Her cheeks flush with pleasure, but she shakes her head. “We have kids here, Sam. They’re only five, and their parents just died. They’re not ready for us to start acting like a couple.”

I want to push. I want to put my foot down and tell her that she’s dead wrong.

“Even we don’t know for sure what’s going on here,” she continues. “I don’t want to confuse them. So, for now, this is your room. That doesn’t mean that it’s forever.”

“It’s definitely not forever.” I lean in and kiss her forehead. “But if this is how you want to do things, I’ll be good.”

“Thank you.”

“Does this mean I can bring my bag in from outside?”

“You packed a bag?”

“Yeah. I’d like to hang out here, whenever possible.”

“I’d like that, too.” I frame her face in my hands and lower my lips to hers. Her skin is soft, and the little moan in the back of her throat is enough to make a man sit up and beg.

Before I can take it deeper, she plants her hand on my chest.

“I need to finish dinner.”

“Yeah.” I kiss her forehead and back away. “Do I have time for a shower?”

“Sure. Help yourself. Dinner should be ready in about fifteen minutes.”

She saunters out of the room, and I follow behind, enjoying the way her ass sways back and forth in those jeans.

Thinking about her nonstop while I should be doing my job probably isn’t the smartest idea, but I can’t get her out of my mind. It’s like she’s permanently stuck there, front and center, in my brain. Everything reminds me of her. The minute I shift my focus to something else, she pops right back in again.

I’m obsessed.

After only one weekend together.

I walk back into the house with my bag and set it on the bed. I set my few personal things in dresser drawers, my toothbrush in the bathroom next to the Mickey and Minnie Mouse toothbrushes.

Looks like I’m sharing with the kiddos.

“You can use my bathroom.” I turn at Tash’s voice and find her leaning her shoulder against the doorjamb. “It’s a little tidier.”

“Okay.” I straighten and lean on the counter. “I missed you this week.”

“Yeah?” Her smile is bright and happy. “Well, that’s nice to hear. I missed you, too. Now, come get some dinner.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

* * *

“I don’t wantyou to wake Auntie Tash,” I say as I lift Kelsey onto the countertop and let her sit there to help. “She worked really hard this week. She deserves a day to sleep in.”

“Are we gonna make her breakfast?” Kelsey asks with a whisper. Kevin is still in bed, as well.

It seems Kelsey and I are the early risers.

“Yes. We’re making some waffles, bacon, and fruit. How does that sound?”

“She likes waffles,” Kelsey replies. “They’re her favorite.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because one time, she took us to the diner as a treat, and she told us that waffles are her favorite for breakfast. She didn’t have any that day, though.”

“How come?”

“She said she wasn’t hungwy, but I think she was sad.” Kelsey drops her gaze to the floor. “Sometimes, Auntie Tash is sad when she thinks we don’t see.”

“Everyone is getting used to new things,” I remind her. “What’s your favorite breakfast?”

“Waffles,” she says.

“Then this is your lucky day. Because waffles are my specialty.”

We get to work on breakfast, and I enlist Kelsey’s help when it comes to stirring and tasting.

“What’re you doing?”

We turn to see Kevin, rubbing his eyes, standing at the end of the island.

“Making breakfast for Auntie Tash. But shhh. We don’t want to wake her up.”

Kevin’s eyes clear from the sleep, and he rubs his hands together. “Can I help?”

“Sure. It’s a team effort.”

“Is it Auntie Tash’s birthday?” Kevin asks.

“No, we’re just doing something nice for her because we love her,” I tell him.

“She always lets me sleep with her after I’ve had a bad dream,” Kevin says softly. “And she doesn’t ever yell at us, even when I’ve been bad on purpose.”

“She gave me the last gwape,” Kelsey says. “She was eating them as a snack, and I wanted some, but there was only one left. She gave it to me.”

“Did that make you feel special?”

“Yeah.” Kelsey smiles. “She always does stuff like that.”

“See, this is why we’re making her a special breakfast,” I inform them, happy that I have this time alone with them. I know that Natasha is a great parent, but it’s always good to hear it from the kids. To know that they are being well taken care of and that they feel loved and safe. “How about if we make her a tray and take her breakfast in bed?”

“People do that?” Kelsey asks.

“Sure. On special occasions.”

“Okay,” she decides and gets to work helping me load a tray to take to Tash.

The kids follow me down the hallway, and I nudge the door open and poke my head inside.

But she isn’t in bed.

“She’s gone,” Kevin says. “She disappeared!”

I set the tray on the bed and glance into the bathroom. Sure enough, she’s kneeling in front of the toilet and doesn’t look like she’s having a good time of it.

“Uh, kids, it looks like Auntie isn’t feeling very good. Why don’t you go ahead and start eating what’s on that tray? I’ll be out in a minute.”

I close the bathroom door behind me and hurry to the sink to wet a washcloth.

When I get a closer look at her, she’s leaning on the toilet, and she’s crying.

“Hey, hey.” I press the cloth to the back of her neck. “What’s going on, honey?”

“Bad dream,” she says. She’s shaking, and she’s cold to the touch. “Really bad.”

“Okay, I’ve got you.” I sit on the floor next to her and pull her to me, rocking her side to side. “I’m here, and I’ve got you.”

“They died again,” she says and starts to cry once more. “But this time, it was all of them. Even you.”

“I’m sorry, baby.”

“It made me sick. Almost didn’t make it in here.”

“Okay. It’s okay.” I rub circles on her back and hold her close. “Just a horrible dream.”

“Yeah.” She sighs and wipes her nose. “Do I smell waffles?”

“Yeah, we made you some.”

“Who did?”

“The three of us. Well, Kevin slept through a lot of it, but he helped, too. I thought we’d let you sleep in for a bit, but it turns out I should have woken you up.”

“That’s a sweet thought.” She sighs. “The dreams had stopped, you know? I had the nightmares a lot the first few weeks, but they’d stopped. Now, they’re happening again, and it sucks. I feel awful because I know the kids have them, too. It’s horrible for me. I can’t even imagine how awful it is for them.”

“They’re okay,” I assure her. “And so are you.”

“Yeah. Maybe waffles will help.”

“I guarantee it.” I kiss her forehead and then lift her to her feet.

“Why are you up so early? You were exhausted last night.”

“I slept like a log. I always get up early.”

“If you make me waffles on the regular, I suppose I can live with the fact that you’re a morning person.”

“You’re so considerate.”

“I know.” She takes a deep breath, and leans over and kisses my shoulder. “Thanks for being here.”

“You’re welcome.”