Loving Justice (El Camino Real Book 2) (19 page)

After he’d left, she’d missed him. That was the simple truth. Already, in just a few short days she was addicted to him. And if she had to walk away from him again, well, it might just kill her this time.

After a shower as hot as she could stand it, she stepped out to dress, anxious to get out to the site, knowing how critical all of this work was, as she’d envisioned it. While she was pulling on a pair of jeans, her phone rang.

Justice.

“What’s wrong?” A feeling of dread hit her.

“We’ve got a problem. One of Cyrus’s men was parked too near the hole, the side of it collapsed. The truck is hanging by two wheels. And he’s still in it.”

“God, I’ll be right there.” She threw the phone down and jerked on the rest of her clothes. To lose a life to this disaster was unthinkable. Frantic, she gathered her things and locked the door, running to the Jeep and gunning it out into the highway.

When she arrived, she parked and hastily made her way to the edge of the hole. Men stood around with ropes and chains. “Oh, my God.” She ran up, and Justice automatically grabbed her, pushing her back. “The ground is unstable. That’s why we haven’t made any headway. Every time we draw near, another inch or two crumbles.”

She hugged herself, chills of fear rasping over her skin. The voice of the man who was trapped rang out. He was afraid. And who wouldn’t be. As deep as it was, the sinkhole might as well be bottomless. The poor man who’d died in Florida came to mind. A sinkhole had formed under his house. The portion of his house that contained the bedroom fell in during the middle of the night, and he was lost—never found—hopefully never woke up before he died. To tumble into oblivion would be a horrible death.

So, she went and stood out of the way, waiting. Charlee felt helpless. But what made it worse, was when she saw who was elected to save the day. It was Justice—her Justice—making his way on his hands and knees with a hook and chain in his hand. There was a rope tied around his waist, but the truck it was attached to was in danger of going over also.

Charlee began to shake.

Why wasn’t someone helping? Why wasn’t anyone else doing this?

But no, it was him, her Justice, and she couldn’t breathe.

A deadly quiet fell over the area. No one moved, no one dared to. They were so afraid the next noise they heard would be the breaking off of more earth and the crashing of the truck which would be the coffin of the poor man trapped inside.

To keep from screaming, Charlee bit her finger—hard enough to hurt. But the slight pain was nothing next to the ripping, shredding agony of fear that was tearing through her chest. She hadn’t lived a perfect life, and she rarely ever asked anything for herself. When she’d begged for her father to quit beating her, the answer had been no. When she’d prayed for her mother to get better, the answer had been no. When she’d gotten down on her hands and knees and prayed to stop the cramps that would steal her child, the answer had been no. Despite their ups and downs, the greatest blessing in her life had been this man and now his life was in jeopardy. “Please, please, if anything happens.” And as most do when they are faced with such great loss, she began to bargain. “Spare him, if you have to take someone—take me.”

When she opened her eyes, it was to see that Justice was almost there—almost. He had the hook in his hand and he was reaching—reaching—when the ground lurched and the truck dropped another four inches because another bit of earth fell victim to the fracturing surface. And when it did, Justice fell forward, and Charlee screamed.

Justice dove forward, knowing he had only one chance. One chance to save this man and maybe one chance to save himself. Everything slowed down to a crawl—time, his breathing, his ability to move…

With every ounce of determination and grit he had, Justice raised his hand and aimed—and just as another foot of earth gave way and the pick-up began to fall, he hooked it and there was a screeching scream of metal as the iron claw caught and the tractor behind him was flung into reverse, trying to keep its burden from falling in.

Charlee covered her mouth, her heart in her throat, and when she saw the truck jerk to a stop mid-fall, she ran forward. “Justice, please, please, be okay.”

And then, there he was, he came toward her slowly. People were dashing about, Cyrus was shouting orders and there was an unearthly release of energy in the air. When his eyes met hers, he stopped and held out his arms, and she ran into them full tilt, launching herself at him. He caught her, swept her against him, buried his face in her neck.

Charlee cried.

A few minutes later, Justice was still shaking. The only solace he could find was holding on to Charlee, absorbing the trembling her little body made. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” And it was, except a damn cluster headache was coming on. He could feel it stalking him like some damn mad dog. A tightening to his neck, a pain between his shoulder blades, streaks of light in the periphery of his vision. Soon, he would be incapacitated.

“Charlee, I have to leave.”

“What’s wrong?” She pushed his hair out of the way. “Is it your head?”

“I just need to go get some aspirin and change clothes, I’m filthy.” He didn’t want her to know the truth. He was a grown man now, and he didn’t want the woman he was attracted to seeing him as weak.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Yea. I’m sure.” He waved his hand in the air nonchalantly.

Charlee didn’t know whether to believe him or not. They were sitting in his truck, him in the passenger seat and her in his lap. She was about to push farther when her phone rang.

She answered. “Hello?”

“Charlee!” It was Cyrus. “We’re going to have to rerun that report. It’s going to take the rest of the day and into the night. I’ve already called for them to bring the machinery back. Everything is set up for tomorrow and to reschedule all the crews will be as expensive as hell. We’re going to have to pull this off and the sooner we can stop this hole from growing, the better.” He finally took a breath. “I need your help.”

“I’ll be right there.” She hung up and ran her hand over Justice’s face. “Wait here.” She opened the door and climbed out, running to her truck and opening her bag. She had it! Grabbing the kudzu tea, she hurried back. “Are you sure you feel like driving?”

Justice sat up straighter, making sure his face reflected no sign of pain. “Of course, I’m on my own land.”

His answer didn’t totally satisfy Charlee. “Take this, I read about it as a help for cluster headaches some time ago. I’ve done some research, and I think it will help.”

“Kudzu? You’ve got to be kidding.” Justice tried to smile, and Charlee could see right through the effort for what it was.

“No, I’m not. Just as soon as you get home, ask Abby to make you a cup and drink all of it. Do that every four hours.”

“I don’t believe in herbal remedies.”

“Do you believe in me?”

Justice exhaled. “Got me there. Yes, I do.”

“I’ll call Abby and tell her.”

“Don’t trust me?” Justice asked her dryly.

“I care about you.” Understatement of the year.

Her phone rang again. She glanced at it. “I’ve got to go.” Charlee was as torn as she’d ever been. She was needed on the job, and Justice needed her too, even if he wasn’t admitting it. Unfortunately, he was depending on her to do her job as well. At this moment, she wished cloning was a possibility.

*  *  *

Eight hours later, Charlee was exhausted and dirty. She and Cyrus had pulled it off. Everything was a go for the next day. Twice she’d called Abby and checked on Justice. She had made sure he drank the tea and the last time they’d talked, he was asleep. Rest was the best thing for him.

And her.

Charlee wanted a hot bath in the worst way. As she headed to the Bronco Inn, the sun was hanging low in the sky. As she turned toward the east, the water tower came into view.

Charlee Parker

Loves

Justice King

This time, instead of feeling hurt when she read the words, she felt peace. Why should she be ashamed of the truth? Love is a miracle. No one should ever hold back telling someone they are loved. Who of us is going to say on our deathbed that were loved too much or too well? Our hold on this world is so fragile, to withhold the gift of love, even when it’s not reciprocated devalues life itself.

The only dark cloud on the horizon was the actual dark cloud on the horizon. There was a storm coming, the whole sky was black. Charlee flipped on the radio and pressed buttons until she heard someone talking about the weather. Drats. She listened as the report was given. A huge thunderstorm was coming with heavy rains and lightning, possibly even hail. A shiver of apprehension made her skin crawl.

Charlee hated storms. She really, really hated storms. One would think that her fear would have lessened with age, but still when a storm blew in, she was weak with fear. If she was on the road, she had to pull off and find a motel room. There, or at home, she would find a spot and make herself as small as possible, waiting it out. She knew her fear was unreasonable, but it made it no less real. Charlee only wished she knew where the anxiety came from, possibly something that happened when she was very young, perhaps right after she’d been taken from her parents. Charlee didn’t know. She only knew that this was something she had to live with. Justice had known of her paralyzing fear, he had always moved heaven and earth to come to her, to hold her. Those were the times when she’d felt safe. But that was a long time ago. He probably didn’t even remember. And now he was out of it. By all rights, she should be there taking care of him, not him worrying about her.

As she drove into the parking lot of the motel, the first drops began to fall. She’d been planning on ordering a pizza, but her appetite flew out the window. Bowing her head, she ran the few feet between her vehicle and the door. Breathless, and not from running, she pushed inside the room, then leaned against the door. Immediately she was reminded of the last time she’d felt this door at her back, and she had to admit that was much more fun than this.

A loud crack of thunder sounded and lightning split the sky. She saw the flash through the window next to her. An illogical dread filled her, and she crept into the room, making her way to the chair in the corner of the room. Curling up in it, she pressed her face to her knees and shut out the world.

Charlee measured the passing of time in lightning flashes instead of minutes. She tried to concentrate on work plans or even count sheep, but she kept losing her train of thought. Once she’d seen a small lost dog on the side of the road, who was so scared of the passing traffic that it literally shook every few seconds. She remembered picking it up to carry it to safety and feeling the rhythmical trembling of its little body. Fear could be an all-consuming thing.

A knocking on the door took Charlee by surprise. Her nerves were already on edge and the sudden noise just capped off her unease. She sprang to her feet, staring at the door. Another round of knocking propelled her to look through the peephole and what she saw made her body go weak with relief.

Throwing the door open, she moved into Justice’s arms, not even giving him a chance to get inside. “You came, you came.”

“Shhhh.” He held her close. “Let’s get inside, and I’ll hold you.”

He knew her so well.

“You’re wet,” she mumbled against his shirt.

“I usually am when I come to you during one of these storms. Umbrellas are for sissies.”

Charlee tried to chuckle. Instead, she choked out a half sob. “You’re all man.”

“Damn straight.” He guided her to the bed.

Feeling stronger because he was here, she pulled away and went to the bathroom, grabbing him a towel. “Here, dry off.” As he did so, she sat on the edge of the bed and devoured him with her eyes, still quivering like the little dog. His presence calmed her, and finally she had sense enough to ask. “Why are you here? You have a headache!”

Justice finished drying off his prize Stetson and sat it on the dresser. “I’m here for you. Now get undressed, we’re going to bed.”

The prospect of lying in his arms sent her fingers skittering to buttons, unclasping, shedding her clothes, not bothering to pick them up. He followed suit.

“Where’s a T-shirt for you?” Justice asked, and she pointed to a drawer. He found a pink one which said, ‘Geologists do it in the dirt.’ “Seriously?”

She shrugged and grinned. “Hand it here. My nipples are cold.”

“Huh, and I just thought you were happy to see me.” He gathered the shirt between his fingers. “Raise your arms.” When she did, he slipped it over her head.

“I am glad to see you.” She crawled up the bed as he pulled back the sheet with one hand and turned off the lamp with the other. As soon as they were stretched out, she ran her hand over his face. “You were sick and yet you came to me.”

He rolled to face her. “Of course I came. The lightning and thunder woke me up, and I couldn’t rest imagining what you were feeling.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Besides, I’m better.”

She caressed his temples, wondering if he was telling the truth. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” He kissed her gently on the lips. “Your tea worked.”