Bellann Summer

I'm sorry I missed posting a snippet yesterday. Christmas turned out to be wonderful with family and
not so wonderful after. I knew the day would be hard as it was the 1year anniversary of my little dog, Norman's, death. I couldn't figure out why I was so sad until a few hours later, a very aggressive form of the flu hit me. Breathing became a problem and Mr. B had to rush me in for medical help. I spent most of the day in bed and will be returning shortly.
Today's snippet is from The Protector Heals His Cowboy (Rescue for Hire West)

Taking a chance, Isaiah stood and held out his arm toward Carson, hoping the move would take away the sad look in his eyes. “Let’s go outside for a short walk. Or maybe we could sit and enjoy the sun for a little while?”

Isaiah kept a small smile on his face. Underneath he was willing Carson to take his arm. A frown appeared, and the smaller man began biting his lip. Time seemed to drag on, but Isaiah was willing to wait forever if he had to.

When Carson laid his trembling hand on the crook of Isaiah’s arm, it was all Isaiah could do not to fist pump the air.

Isaiah led the fragile, precious Carson through the house and out the door. Isaiah paused for a moment and looked down at his arm. Carson’s hand was shaking harder. Looking at Carson, Isaiah saw that the poor man was pale and sweating.

Turning to the left, Isaiah led Carson to a set of wicker rocking chairs gracing the house’s front veranda. “Let’s sit here for a while.”

After making sure Carson was settled, Isaiah scooted his own chair closer before sitting. The front of the hacienda was the most secluded part of the estate, as it was the backyard and beyond the rear gate that held most of Los Heroes’ activities. The barn and sheds were back there, as well as the airplane hangar, and where the construction activities for Flyer and Styx’s new house were.

At the moment, Isaiah thought the quiet of the front of the house suited Carson’s needs better.

“The sun feels good,” Isaiah commented and smiled at Carson. He was so happy Carson was here with him.

“Yeah.” Carson’s quiet answer had Isaiah straining to hear him. “Sometimes I don’t think I’ll ever be warm again.”

Isaiah took a chance. Reaching over, he covered Carson’s hand. “You are safe and can be warm here.”

Carson turned his head toward Isaiah. “I thought I was going to die from Sammie’s abuse. I wanted to die. When he forced us all into the airplane, and it crashed, I was sure I was going to die.” Carson’s hand jerked under Isaiah’s. “I woke up in the hospital, and you were there by the bed. Why were you there? Why am I here?”

The chair under Isaiah creaked as he rocked back in surprise. Shit. They had gone over this once before. Isaiah had thought his answer then had been enough. Now he guessed it wasn’t.

What was he supposed to say? Should he admit he’d taken one look at Carson’s crumpled, bloody form and felt an overwhelming need to protect him? Every fiber of Isaiah’s being wanted, no, needed, to hold Carson forever and never let him go.

Taking a deep breath, Isaiah decided to go for broke. He let go of Carson’s hand and held his hand out, palm up. “When you see my hand held out like this, does it scare you?”

Isaiah’s heart cracked when Carson whispered, “Yes.”

“Why?” Maybe he could get Carson to look at things in a different way.

“Because I don’t know what you want, and angry hands can cause a lot of damage,” Carson admitted.

“If I hold out my hand, I want to hold yours,” Isaiah stated. “It’s that simple. Between us, I will have no ulterior motives, Carson. I promise. What I say is what I mean. You can trust me.”

Carson tipped his head to the side and studied Isaiah. “I still don’t understand why.”

Isaiah looked deep into Carson’s eyes. “Because I feel a connection with you.”

He let that statement sink in for a moment before sitting back and looking out at the dark purple mountains in the distance. Isaiah’s heart lurched when Carson’s hand crept into his. He laced their fingers together and rested them on his lap.