Ride With Me (A Quaking Heart Novel - Book One)

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  Jessica's heart screamed for her to stop while her confused mind said go. She reminded herself that this might be what God wanted. So she let it happen. The kiss was special. But as wonderful as it was, an essential response from her was missing—no racing heart, no drowning desire. No life-sustaining meshing of souls.

  The kiss had made something excruciatingly clear. She loved Johnnie, but not in the same way she loved Clint. He must have sensed her hesitation since he drew back. He put a palm tenderly to her cheek while he studied her face. To search for the hope that she returned his affection? All she felt was pain . . . for him.

  She knew the moment he read it on her face. "So, that's my answer," he said in a quiet voice.

  What could she say? "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Johnnie. . ." Even as she said those words, she thought of the very same words Clint had said to her. Instantly she bore the crush of that revelation. So this was how Clint felt. He loved Jessica as a friend and didn't want to cause her more pain. Was that why he'd come back to the ranch?

  Johnnie placed a finger across her lips. "Don't say any more. Let me hold you a minute . . . please." He tucked her head into his neck and held her while her heart grieved for him.

  They remained this way for a long while, until he finally loosened his hold, and said in a quiet tone, "I'll walk you back. It's getting late. They'll be worrying about you."

  Jessica, still reeling from her encounter with Johnnie, entered Clint's room, relieved to see Mabel by his side. "The doctor's gone?"

  Mabel nodded. "Try not to exhaust yerself." She rose to her feet and ambled to the door.

  Jessica graced her with a weak smile. Truth was, she was already weary to the bone from her own sorrow and the sorrow she'd caused Johnnie. She plopped down in the large leather chair Mabel had been sitting in and observed Clint. She watched as he labored in each breath, finding herself trying to breathe for him. She had come to love this man so deeply. Even in his sleep, he tugged at her heart strings.

  Leaning over she touched his forehead. Still ablaze. Her stomach dropped. On wobbly legs she went to the porcelain bowl by the bed and retrieved a damp wash cloth. She placed it on his head. He jerked in his sleep from the cold.

  "It's okay. It's Jessie. I'll be with you all night." Knowing he was asleep, and with no one else around, Jessica felt emboldened. "I'll be with you for as long as you need me, love of my life." It felt so good to say those words to him, even as they made her chest tighten in the knowledge it would never be.

  "Love . . . of my . . . life . . ." he said on gusts of breath, shocking her. Did he really say those words, or had her own longing made her imagine it? She snatched the cloth up. Forlorned, she sighed. He was still fast asleep, talking in his sleep. Still, it sounded so good coming from his lips.

  Scooting the big chair forward to be closer, she settled in for the night.