Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
"Are you going to press that?" Miller asked, ripping me out of my thoughts.
I pressed the coffee, poured mugs, and we headed out.
The chair was abandoned, her mug sitting on the ground.
"She's right there," Miller said, snapping me out of the growing panic.
My gaze followed Miller's, finding her standing at the fencing of the paddock, arms folded over the top wrung, seeming to be watching the goats.
"What am I supposed to do here?" I heard myself asking as Miller dropped herself into the abandoned chair, leaving me to lean up against the house, wondering for the first time in all my years here if maybe I should invest in a second chair.
"About her?" she clarified.
"Yeah, about her."
"I dunno. I think, maybe, she is processing still. And she feels safe here. You were who found her, saved her, patched her up."
"You think she was trying to get back here when she wandered back into the woods?" I asked, brows lowering.
"Probably not. I mean... she drove with you out of here. She had to know it would take hours. And even in daylight, it's hard to find. I can't imagine why she came back in here in the middle of the night. But now that she's here, I don't know... maybe she should stay until she's ready to leave."
"I'm no shrink, Mills."
"No," she agreed, watching the way Captain nuzzled his head into the woman's leg, making her reach down to pet him. "But who knows. Maybe it was someone in her life, you know? That hurt her?" I didn't mention that my mind had been wondering the same thing. "And the cops didn't seem to believe her. Probably dismissed as an addict. So, if she remembered something, and it was someone she knew, she wouldn't want to go back to that life..."
"So, you think I should, what, here?"
"I dunno, Babysitter, maybe babysit her for a while. Let her work through this."
"You know me, Mills. I'm not good with soft."
"I don't imagine she is expecting soft. She's just looking for safe. She couldn't be safer with anyone than she would be with you. And, apparently, Captain."
"He's all about her," I agreed. "Must be a woman thing."
To that, Miller snorted. "We're talking about the same dog, right? The one who once snarled at me for walking near him. It's not a woman thing. It's a her thing. Maybe he senses that she needs him. He's probably gonna want to go with her when she is finally ready to leave."
I wasn't entirely sure if the punch to the gut sensation I felt at her words had more to do with her leaving... or Captain. And, quite frankly, I didn't want to try to unravel that one.
"I don't have... girl shit," I mumbled, watching the way her wheat-colored hair kicked up in the wind, blowing around her head.
"No. But you do have a female friend who knows that you don't have girl shit laying around. So while I waited for the scripts to be filled, I grabbed some girl shit. Just basic stuff. Deodorant, razors, shaving cream, a little lotion, tampons, a pack of those hideous panties they sell at places like a pharmacy. Oh, and lip balm. I don't know a single woman who doesn't have at least three different ones."
"Why would you need three?"
"A home one, a purse one, a car one..."
"Women..." I said, shaking my head.
"Not all of us can, I don't know, rip open an animal, and smear some organ oil on our lips."
"Organ oil," I snorted, shaking my head.
"I wish I could have gotten her some clothes and such. But I knew it would be a trek. I didn't want to carry a ton of weight. Maybe... if this goes on for a while, I can send someone in here with more supplies. You can give us a list after you get more of a feel for her."
"Not fucking Bellamy," I demanded. One of the newest members of the team, he was known for his over the top antics that could often involve dosing his coworkers and taking them to new cities - or countries - without them knowing. Sure, he made it the time of their lives, but that didn't mean it was right. And I didn't want any of that bullshit in my woods. Or around her.
"Maybe Finn. I don't think she's in any shape for handling Lincoln's charm. Finn will fit right in here. You might want to hide your bleach."
"Don't have any."
To that, she smiled. "Don't tell him that. You know, when I was in the United Arab Emirates last year for a couple months, he let himself into my place, and scrubbed it. I mean... he went into the air ducts then re-grouted my tub kind of clean. I had to air it out for an hour before the fumes didn't give me a headache, but it was nice to have it so clean. He'd have a field day with the dog hair in there. Don't worry," she said, seeming to misinterpret the look on my face. "I won't be sending him in here in the next few days or anything. But if this goes beyond a week or so, I think she might want some stuff. Might help her feel more like herself. We can even maybe get some stuff from her place."