Trusting Love by Billi Jean Page B

base at a party, not yet married but in that after high school love that seemed to catch and hold onto a person stronger than fly paper. She’d been stuck tight by everyone else’s expectations for her—for them. No one, especially her folks, wanted to hear that she wasn’t in love with the big, strong solider. No one wanted to help her when they’d caught on he wasn’t the perfect man he presented to the world either.
    Robert had.
    Daniel had landed in jail and called her for bail money. She’d already left him, already secretly started the divorce proceedings, but she’d not mentioned that to Robert, somehow hoping that he’d already known and would finally make good on the awareness she’d seen in his blue eyes.
    He hadn’t. But he had helped her get Daniel out of jail and into gambling rehab. It had been too little, too late. But that was her fault.
    What would my life be like now, if I’d simply cornered Robert that night when he’d come to tell me he’d had Daniel all settled and I’d had the nerve to make the first move?
    The rush of tears that flooded her eyes and tightened her throat filled her with even more anger.
    She cried so often now, she made up for all the years of keeping them inside.
    She’d not made the first move because after years of Daniel cheating on her, she hadn’t possessed enough self-confidence to make a move on what she thought might be there. Instead she’d thanked him and he’d left her alone.
    Now she was stuck in her home with the man. For how long?
    She rested her head on the wooden handle again, realising her mind was doing circles on a problem she wasn’t going to be able to solve, but was unable to stop—like a sore tooth, she knew she’d worry this until something broke. Until either he forced her to do something, or she did something on her own.
    The horses were silent, the barn eerily so. Only a snowfall made the world feel this insulated, this empty, she thought, brushing her cheeks. She wished suddenly she could walk back in the cabin and find this to be all some sort of alcohol-induced nightmare.
    “Yeah, wouldn’t that be great.”
    Misty stuck her grey muzzle over her stall door and shuffled her feet. No doubt she’d woken the horse with her self-pity party. Sighing heavily she walked over then leaned against the stall door and rubbed Misty’s nose.
    She had to go back inside. She could only hope Robert was asleep and not up and still wanting her to cut open his wounds. Maybe he’d been delirious.
    He hadn’t looked that way, though. He’d looked serious—real, real serious.
    She couldn’t hide out here forever. Already she was cold and it’d only been minutes since she’d stopped working up a sweat. She had to face this, and head on was the only way with a man like Robert McNeil, she guessed.
    She headed back to the cabin, the soft crunch of her boots on the snow overly loud in the silence. Were there men out there right now, looking for Robert? She stopped in her tracks. The thought took hold and wouldn’t go away. He’d not answered her. Did that mean there were? The blowing snow around her turned into something eerie and frightening. She hurried up the path, the steep sides of snow she’d piled up now menacing instead of merely sheltering her from the worst of the wind. Anyone could be right there, behind the snow ready to grab her when she reached the porch.
    Stupid, no one is out here . I’m overreacting from lack of sleep and sex when there’s a sexy man in my bed.
    The thought sounded good, but she still gripped her shovel harder and took the porch steps at a quick run. She shoved the door open, turned and shut it, breathlessly.
    “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
    At the angry demand she screamed and turned around to find Robert two feet behind her, his eyes wide and hands up.
    “Damn, sorry, I didn’t mean to startle—”
    She swore at him in Spanish, switched to English when he gave her that half grin and added on a