pounding him into the ground. Of frightening him and making him whimper.
But that wasn’t going to happen. Not anytime soon. She was trapped and there seemed to be only one way out.
She grabbed the harness. The shape was familiar in her hands and she slid into it easily.
“The shoes are over here.”
She pulled off her sandals, not caring that her feet were probably filthy, and slipped on the climbing shoes, then allowed him to guide her to the wall. He offered her chalk for her hands.
She rubbed her fingers together. The room was cool and quiet. She could hear herself breathing and nothing else. Her skin burned from the sun, her body ached and she was so hungry she felt hollow. But none of that mattered. Not knowing where the need came from, she suddenly knew she had to climb the wall.
She closed her eyes, because then not seeing felt like a choice. She put her hand on the smooth surface in front of her, then felt around until she found handholds. When she’d gripped them, she moved her right foot forward and up. Nick moved behind her and clipped the safety line to her harness.
She ignored him. There was only the wall in front of her and finding the next place to hang on.
Slowly, she climbed. She found her rhythm in the movements. He was right-she didn’t need to see to do this and each step gave her more confidence.
About twenty minutes into the climb, she moved her foot higher, found the foothold and shifted her weight. Her foot slipped. Suddenly she was hanging in midair, with no idea of where she was or what came next. Panic surged, but she ignored it. She hung on with her hands, scrambling with her feet until she found another hold. Cautiously, she centered herself on it, easing her weight off her hands and onto her legs again.
Her heart pounded in her chest. Sweat soaked her. She kept her eyes closed. When she’d caught her breath, she began moving up again.
Nick watched Izzy’s careful progress. He’d wondered if she would refuse to climb, but she hadn’t. Now she worked her way steadily to the top of the wall, her body moving easily as she remembered what she was supposed to be doing.
His gaze slipped over her bare arms. Something inside him tightened when he caught sight of the curve of her breast. She was wild enough to be appealing but not so crazy that she made him wary. In other circumstances, before everything had changed, he would be interested. As it was-he could look but not touch.
She took the last few feet easily and slapped the top of the wall.
“I made it,” she yelled.
He reached for the safety rope and lowered her to the ground.
“Next time you can take it at more than a crawl,” he told her.
She touched the floor and unhooked herself, then grinned at him. “Next time we’ll race and I’ll so kick your ass.”
“In your dreams.”
She laughed. “No, Nick. In yours.”
BY THE TIME they returned to the main house, Izzy was hungry enough to eat a water buffalo. Or at least pretty much anything that was served for dinner. At this point, she would even consider one of her sister Lexi’s uber-healthy sticks and greens sandwiches on the pressed cardboard she called bread. But when they walked into the kitchen, the smells that surrounded her were rich and thick and filled with promise.
“Over here,” Nick said, guiding her to the sink in the mudroom.
She found the taps, then the soap. After washing her hands, she splashed water on her face and dried herself with a towel. She turned toward the sound of footsteps.
“You’re back,” Aaron said happily. “I was worried. I know, I know. I shouldn’t. It gives me wrinkles. So we’re having pot roast for dinner. And, honey, the things Norma can do with a pot roast will make you want to weep.”
Aaron linked arms with her and led her into the kitchen. “Norma, this is Izzy. Izzy, Norma, who keeps us all fed and happy.”
“Hi,” Izzy said, feeling a little awkward as she stared at a blurry shape that was probably Norma. Should she hold out her hand? Wave?
“You’re skinny,” Norma said by way of greeting. “You sit at my table, you eat food.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Izzy murmured. “I’m actually a big eater.”
“Uh-huh. We’ll see about that. Now you go sit. I don’t have time for chitchat. Shoo.”
Aaron guided her toward the table. She reached out her hands until she felt the chair. She could make out the shape of the table and knew there were things on top of it, but couldn’t say exactly what everything was. Aaron took the chair on her right and when a man moved across from her, she assumed it was Nick.
Cozy, she thought, feeling awkward. She wasn’t used to eating in front of strangers. She wished she could take a tray to her room, but had a feeling she knew what would happen if she asked.
Norma put serving bowls on the table. “Eat up,” she said sternly. “I don’t want to hear anything but lips smacking.”
“We’re not allowed to talk?” Izzy asked in a whisper.
“We can talk,” Aaron told her. “She just sounds tough. Want me to serve you?”
“Okay.”
“There’s pot roast and potatoes and carrots. Plus biscuits. Norma, you’re killing me with your biscuits. They’re delicious.”
“I make them because you like them.” Her voice came from behind them, in the kitchen.
He dished out food as he spoke, filling her plate. “Wineglass is on your right. Tonight it’s a saucy little Washington Syrah from Walla Walla. I’m in charge of the wine selection. It’s a hobby of mine.”
Izzy glanced across the table. She could see Nick’s outline, but had no idea what he was doing. Eating? Staring? Reading the paper? He was silent, which unnerved her.
“Do you need me to tell you where the food is on your plate?” Aaron asked.
“No, thanks. I’m not that handicapped.”
“You’re not handicapped, you’re handicapable.”
His perky statement made her laugh. “Okay. If you say so.”
“I do.”
Izzy picked up her fork. Her mouth was watering before she took her first bite. She nearly swooned when she tasted Norma’s perfect pot roast. Her stomach growled again, this time in appreciation.
“You’ll meet Rita tomorrow,” Aaron said. “She’s in charge of the horses. She and her husband live a few miles away. They’ve been married forever.” He sighed. “It’s just so romantic. I want to find someone. Nick, you never introduce me to any of your friends. Why is that?”
“They’re not your type.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yeah, I do.”
There was something in his tone that made her look up. But no matter how hard she stared, she couldn’t bring him into focus. Or the room. Or her plate. Her appetite disappeared, leaving her feeling sick to her stomach.
“Izzy?” Aaron sounded concerned.
“I’m fine,” she whispered.
“Eat a biscuit. It’ll make you feel better.”
She knew he was only trying to help, but right now nothing was going to make her feel better. Nick was silent. The unfair advantage of everyone else being able to see made her want to lash out.
“You’re quiet,” she snapped. “Are you judging me or being critical?”
“I wasn’t thinking about you at all.”
She stiffened.
“Is that typical for you?” he asked. “Do you expect everything to be about you? You’re only happy when you’re the center of attention? No wonder you were comfortable sitting around, being taken care of. Least effort, most outcome. Being blind is probably the best thing that ever happened to you.”
