Cord was sick as a dog and pretending he was fine.
Except he'd clearly had trouble hauling his carcass into the truck, and his reflexes were off.
She was thinking of putting on her seatbelt, even though they were only going ten miles an hour on the track toward the barn.
She was determined to break up the ice and leave him in the truck. He was so out of it, so feverish, that he was likely to fall through the ice himself.
Everything was covered. Trees looked broken and strange as some of their branches had dropped.
What about the barn—?
Cord stomped on the brakes as the barn came into view. She’d caught herself with both hands against the dash, mouth open to tell him off, when she saw what had caused the reaction.
The tree she'd worried about last night had fallen. All of it. Across the barn. One whole side was sheared off, leaving the interior open and exposed. The entire structure listed to one side, precarious in the biting wind.
"No,” he mumbled. “No, no, no."
He stepped on the gas pedal and pulled in, then threw the truck into park well back from the disaster of broken branches and destroyed wood.
"Cord—"
He waved her off, staring out the windshield. This was a big setback. She knew he'd hoped to rebuild most of the interior of the barn.
He didn't say anything. Just stared out the window with his hands shaking on the wheel.
Then he put the truck in drive and bypassed the barn to head to the pond.
She'd hopped out of the truck before he got it completely stopped and had pulled the ax from the truck bed as he shifted into park. She was halfway to the icy pond before he'd gotten to his feet outside the truck.
"Molly!" he yelled.
"Get back in the truck," she called over her shoulder. "You've got the flu."
He cursed. But as she fought through the brush to get to the water's edge, she heard a car door open and close.
She'd won? He must really be sick.
Even with two pairs of gloves on and as many layers as she'd been able to don quickly, she was shivering, and her face felt numb by the time she'd chopped through the layer of ice to reveal the water below. She cleared as much as she could around this edge, hoping the cattle would be smart enough to smell the water and come around this way instead of heading back through the brush-lined side of the pond.
When she approached the truck, Cord's head was lolled back against the headrest behind him.
Oh, man. This was bad.
She deposited the ax in the truck bed and rounded to the driver's side.
He startled when she opened the driver's door, straightening slowly.
"Scoot over," she said. "I'm driving."
It took some effort, but he maneuvered himself halfway between the center seat and the passenger seat. Getting all the way in the passenger seat seemed beyond him.
The fact that he didn't argue worried her.
He couldn't even hold his head up. It rested against the seatback, revealing his throat as she forced frozen hands to put the truck in gear.
"I think I have the flu," he mumbled.
Oh, really, Sherlock?
She bit back a smile. It wasn't funny, not really.
"I don't think I've ever felt this bad before," he said. "Shouldn't have come out here."
Worry swirled when she reached across with an ungloved hand and touched his jaw. Even in the chilled truck, he was burning up.
He jumped at her touch. "You're freezing."
The contrast from her cold fingers must’ve been a shock.
"Is there a doctor in town?" she asked. "I can drive you."
His head rolled. "I don't wanna go to town. Too many bad memories. Noah's town."
Noah again. Cord had shut down completely when Jilly had mentioned the mysterious Noah.
She tried again. "A doctor might be able to help you heal up faster."
"Nuh uh," he murmured, his eyes closing. "Just take me home."
They were passing the destroyed barn when he bolted upright. "Wait!"
She wasn't going to stop. Whatever he wanted would be there when he felt better. The mess wasn't going anywhere.
But he clutched her arm with one big hand. "Stop!"
Her body's memory reacted. She jerked away from him, her pulse racing.
And she hit the brakes. She was ready to flee the vehicle, but he'd already scooted to the passenger door and let himself out.
"Cord—"
He waved over his shoulder and slowly made his way to the demolished barn.
Stubborn, stupid man. That thing could fall over any second.
He disappeared inside the part of the structure still standing.
She put the truck in park. Stupid. Stupid.
She got out of the truck—left it running—and followed him.
Her eyes took a few precious seconds to adjust, and she saw him leaning on a waist-high stack of hay bales.
What was he doing? He couldn't even stand upright.
But he reached down and grabbed something. When he straightened, he swayed a little. He was holding a yowling tabby cat.
And looked like he had no idea what to do with it.
She stepped closer, wincing against the assault to her eardrums. Took off her coat.
He met her gaze with relief. Had he thought she would just leave him out here alone?
She held out the coat with her arms underneath to make a sort of net. "Put it in here."
He did. The cat came hissing and spitting the whole time.
"Now what?" she asked, but he was shedding his own coat. What was he doing?
He laid the coat on top of the bale of hay and leaned over the top again, bracing heavily on one hand. He reached down—
And came up with a tiny kitten.
Oh.
There came another. Another.
The first one tried to crawl off the edge, and she moved quickly to push it back with her elbow.
A fourth one, and he was tumbling them together, wrapping them all up.
The mama had stopped yowling but was trying to claw through Molly's coat.
"Now we take them home," he said with a nod that he probably meant to be decisive. "They can't stay
