Chapter 20

“But not intentionally,” he continued, his deep rumbling voice deceptively mild in her ear and incongruous with his rough appearance. “Your feet are in bad shape. I think they’re infected. It’s going to be uncomfortable for you when I clean them. ”

He reached for her and she shrank away from his hand, but he merely cradled the back of her head. Gently he raised it and placed a mug to her lips. “Drink,” he said. “But take it slow.”

Turning her head back and forth, resisting the cup, Brook asked, “What’s in it?”

“Just water. Drink.”

Brook, thirst strong, decided to comply rather than anger him. She drank, and the cold water felt like a balm on her chapped lips. It was like tonic going down her throat, soothing and cooling her parched tissues, so raw from all the screaming and crying of the past few days. She was still thirsty when he set the cup aside. He turned to look at her before speaking.

“Why don’t you try to go back to sleep? I gave you a tranquilizer. Just give in to it and let it work. You’re safe here. I’m going to take care of you. We’ll have plenty of time to talk later. There’s nothing for you to worry about, and nothing you need to do. Just sleep now.” His voice was hypnotic, the deep even tones hard to resist. It lulled her against her will.

Still, she fought the medication. In her foggy mind, Brook first became aware that she was dressed and almost wept with gratitude. The man had covered her nakedness. She felt an unwanted tenderness toward the stranger. The second realization was that of warmth. She had been cold for so long. The next thought never made it to the surface as she succumbed once again to the powerful downward pull of the drug.

In her dreams she wandered through shadows of fear and uncertainty. Dreams in which images of Jase and his gang blurred and alternated insanely with Clark’s face, and with the vision of a crazed killer howling over a mangled body in the forest. She barely registered the touch of Lance’s hands on her sore feet, pulling debris from her wounds, cleaning them, and covering them with salve. She was blissfully distant from the physical pain, but trapped in nightmares of terror and confusion.

Lance put away his first aid supplies and cleaned up around the daybed. Only then did his thoughts return to Belinda.