I have no reason to feel guilty. Dax set an elbow on a bent knee, leaned a cheek in that palm, and studied the back of Holly’s head. Her body was as stiff as he’d ever seen it. He’d expected sniffles. Nothing but silence. If tears had come, she hid them well. When she finally slipped into sleep, her body relaxed, and she no longer gripped the sleeping bag so tightly.
The open Bible lay where Holly had dropped it earlier. He picked it up, intending to close it and set it on her bag. The notebook inside the front cover fell out, landing with a light, dull thud on the truck bed. He froze and glanced at Holly.
Her breathing remained level, and she didn’t move.
Tension ebbed. The small, spiral-bound book was about the size of the one he carried in the breast pocket of his uniform. Dax picked it up.
Put it back. Forget you ever saw it.
A gentleman would do just that, but… what thoughts of Holly’s might it reveal?
Dax moved one of the camp lanterns closer and turned it up, making sure the cooler sat between it and Holly so the light didn’t wake her. He flipped open the notebook. A prayer journal. She’d jotted thoughts about various passages of Scripture—some confirming his suspicion about her concerns over anger. One page especially caught his eye.
It’s a given. I’ll never get married. Who would marry me with this temper? Well, other than a man who sees a spirited horse he wants to break, anyway….
He frowned. How could she possibly see herself as so undesirable? He opened the Bible and sought the passages Holly had jotted down beside that note. All in the book of Proverbs. All saying virtually the same thing. Did Holly truly see herself as a “contentious” woman?
Dax shook his head, scowling in disgust at the Bible. Was that really what it made people think of themselves? Why did so many waste time with such nonsense? As he started to close it, an underlined passage caught his eye, tucked in amongst those noted in her notebook. Proverbs 21:23.
“He who guards his mouth and his tongue, guards his soul from troubles.”
He snorted. More nonsense. Keeping his mouth shut had never kept him out of trouble. In fact, it seemed trouble came regardless of whether he spoke or not. Dax shook his head. It must have meaning for Holly or she wouldn’t have marked it. He’d have to ponder it further to understand her perspective.
Next to that verse, Holly had written another reference. He flipped a few pages to Proverbs 15:4.
“A soothing tongue is a tree of life, but perversion in it crushes the spirit.”
Some long-ago memory struggled to the surface, shaking free of dust. Hadn’t the pastor taught on that once when he was a teenager, or had it been his youth group leader? Doesn’t matter. The point does. Words spoken in anger or hate could crush another person’s spirit. Right? Hm. Wait…. Was he remembering that correctly?
He re-read the words. Certainty settled in. Yes, that verse referred to how a person spoke to someone else and the damage it could do. Okay, I can live with that. I know firsthand how hurtful words can be.
“He was your responsibility! How could you let this happen?”
He cringed and pushed the memory down before it could surface more fully, forcing his focus to the book in his hands. Another verse on the page was underlined but not noted in her notebook. Proverbs 15:1.
“A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.”
There was certainly some truth to that, but a gentle answer could also get a person stomped, so…. He moved on to yet another reference scribbled in the notebook. Proverbs 12:18.
“There is one who speaks rashly like the thrusts of a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing.”
Healing? Dax frowned. The tongue could bring healing? More memories. Occasions when loving words from either of his parents had soothed hurts and offered encouragement, even when they had to nail his backside to the proverbial wall for wrongdoing. Was that what Holly aspired to? Admirable.
His respect for Holly’s goal rising, he followed still another reference. Underlined and circled. Proverbs 31:26.
“She opens her mouth in wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue.”
In the margin, Holly had written, “Who I want to be.”
He lowered the Bible to his lap and leaned against the side wall of the truck to watch her sleep. She had sure set a high standard. Was it truly attainable, or was she only setting herself up for failure?
Mom had often talked about her own temper as though she saw herself much the same way. How many times over the years had he overheard her tell someone that God had helped her learn to control it, changed her heart so she responded differently to people and situations?
Dax recalled the scene in the dining room the day of the shooting. Him sniping at Mom. Her calm response. He’d been disrespectful, as confirmed by the admonitory look from Dad. Mom could’ve bitten his head off—probably should have—but she hadn’t. She’d spoken with compassion and understanding. Granted, he hadn’t liked it since he’d wanted a fight, but looking back, he recognized the wisdom in her response.
He grimaced and wiped a hand over his eyes. He’d done to his mother what he’d done so often to Holly. Provoked. Lashed out. Mom hadn’t reacted as Holly tended to, but still.
You’re a low little inchworm, you know. You should never have been so rude to Mom. She deserves better. So does Holly. You probably don’t even measure up to that worm actually.
He’d caused Holly sufficient distress to inflame a temper she sought desperately to control. So what if he hadn’t known about her struggle. That didn’t make what he’d done less offensive.
“A good man lifts up others and strengthens them,” he recalled Dad saying more than once over the years.
Regret and conviction dug deep. Dax sighed. He hadn’t lifted up or strengthened anybody in… well… maybe never. Not even himself, if he was honest. Instead, he’d wallowed and lashed out. For years. Why hadn’t he realized that before? All the times Mom had told him to check his attitude at the door… all the comments and disapproving looks from Dad… should’ve told him something. Been red flags. How had he missed it?
A gust of wind swept the interior of the camper, riffling the pages of the Bible and flipping pages in the notebook. Dax stilled them with a hand, careful not to bend or crease pages. He waited until the gust died down and started to close the notebook. His gaze caught on his name. He froze then leaned closer to read what she’d written.
Dax hates me. All he does is frown, scowl, and growl at me. Sometimes, a moment comes that gives me hope that he might like me a little, but he quickly dispels that notion with another biting comment or hateful look. Why do I let him give me hope? I should know better! He’s just like Daddy. Lord, help me not to care what he thinks of me. If I stop caring, it’ll be so much easier to walk away and not look back. I need to stop listening to Brett.
Shocked, he stared at the jagged, scrawled text that appeared to have been written by a trembling hand. Was that truly what she believed? Of course. Dumb question. Holly wouldn’t write something in her prayer journal she didn’t believe.
Sure, he could be moody and temperamental, argumentative even, but…. What had Brett said to her?
Holly had dated the entry, just as she had others. Dax leaned to take a closer look, unable to believe what he saw. His initial thought that she’d probably written it after their confrontation New Year's Day dissolved into the night. It was dated that very morning.
Regret gathered force in his chest, threatening to squeeze the life out of him.
~~~
The ground moved.
Holly rolled over, frowning at the thunder and roaring wind that bore down on her.
The ground shifted again.
A whimper escaped as a tornado tried to rip her shelter away. She curled into a ball and covered her head with her hands to protect it from flying debris. Don’t cry out. Quiet! Daddy’ll have a fit. She suppressed whimpers as best she could. Oh, God, please don’t let him hear me. If he did…. No more pain. Please.
Hands touched her arm and back.
She flinched and tightened further into a ball, but they weren’t rough or angry.
Infinitely gentle, they lifted her, cradled her close to solid warmth. Strong arms wrapped around her, cocooning her, protecting her from the storm. Calm, soothing whispers caressed her ears, instead of the harsh derision she’d expected. Indiscernible words.
She latched onto them with all her strength, willing away the terror.
“It’s alright.”
Holly opened her eyes and looked up. Her gaze locked with a familiar one. A faint light illuminated Dax’s features, wreathed with concern. Worried? Why? She raised a hand to his unshaven cheek and attempted a smile but wasn’t sure she’d succeeded.
He closed his eyes for a moment and leaned into her touch. Luminous eyes opened again, concern replaced by something… intense that stole her breath as it mingled with his.
Dax captured her mouth with his, groaning deep in his chest.
Holly let loose the desire she’d bottled up and denied for so long.
His movements quickened, his hands going to her shoulders, she feared to push her away. Instead, he laid her on the hard ground, following her until they lay side by side, his lips never leaving hers.
Fear fled, chased away by something far more powerful.
Just as suddenly as Dax’s mouth had taken possession of hers, it vanished.
Holly opened her eyes, frowning.
He hovered inches away, his breathing as ragged as hers. Shadow hid most of his face, hiding his expression.
She set a hand at the back of his neck and tugged slightly, intending to draw his mouth back to hers.
Turning his head away, he reached back to capture her hand, removing it from his neck.
Her frown deepened.
“Rest. You’re safe,” Dax whispered hoarsely then stretched out beside her, drawing her against him.
Her head on his chest, Holly listened to the rapid beat of his heart and closed her eyes. Unspent desire ebbed. His heartbeat slowed and steadied, leading hers to do the same. A faint smile curved her mouth. Dax had done the impossible. He’d chased away a twister.
~~~
Dax lay awake well into the night, battling the temptation that lay so willingly in his arms. He’d known since day one that his attraction to Holly was strong, but unleashed… the force of it had caught him off-guard. Her response had been just as powerful.
How could he have kissed Holly? He hadn’t intended to. That had been the furthest thing from his mind when he’d pulled her close to comfort away terror that had her curled into a tight little ball, whimpering. He’d meant only to provide comfort. Nothing more.
What were you thinking, kissing her like that?
Her warm body relaxed. Her breathing leveled off in sleep.
Still he couldn’t sleep.
Fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into.
He groaned. I wanna kiss her again. Taste that sweet mouth….
Dax forced his thoughts away from the path of temptation. It would lead to serious trouble. He had enough of that. They had to get out of there. First thing in the morning, they’d get off the mountain. To do otherwise would be dangerous, though he wasn’t sure which one of them was in more danger if they were alone another day. Another night.
Then again, it might not be a problem. Holly thought he hated her. She’d probably wake up in the morning, remember what he’d done, and prove she really didn’t hit like a girl. Or push him off the edge of the ridge. Would serve him right.
You should never have taken advantage of Holly when she was terrified and vulnerable. What kind of scumbag are you?
He needed to stop listening to his parents’ stories. Their claims about Dad kissing away Mom’s phobia of thunderstorms. That was to blame. His parents were responsible for this.
But… it had worked.