Page 26 of Shared By the Mountain Men Triplets

“I’ll drive.”

“You’re not driving that truck around here anymore. I’m going to put it in the garage.”

I open my mouth to protest, but Boone says, “Ifyou need to go somewhere, one of us will take you. If you need a vehicle later, we’ll figure it out.”

Suddenly, I’m tired, physically and mentally, and I’m tired of arguing, so I let it go for now.

In the remaining pre-dawn hours, we make the trip to the motel in two of their trucks. I ride with Cade, who’s quiet for the first few miles, then says, “You did good out there.”

“Hmm?” I open my eyes and pull myself out of the half-sleep I’d drifted into.

“Out on the ridge,” he says. “You did good.”

“Thanks.”

“And you knew I was out there with you.” It’s not a question.

“That’s why I took those little detours every night on the way out.”

He huffs out a little laugh, and when I glance over at his profile, his mouth curves into a half-smile.

We’re in and out of the motel quickly, with the men easily carrying all my things in one go. Back at their cabin, they deposit my luggage in the bedroom next to Rhett’s.

Boone strips the bed and remakes it with clean sheets, as I stand in the middle of the room feeling lost.

“Am I taking your room?”

He flashes me a warm grin, which is impressive considering the lack of sleep. “You’re not taking it. I’m giving it to you.”

“You’re forcing me to take it, actually, but thank you.” I grab one end of the sheet and help him center it, then tuck in the ends, though my side doesn’t look nearly as crisp as his.

Cade comes in carrying a carefully folded patchwork quilt, which he positions at the foot of the bed. It’s done in shades of green and blue with some floral patterns worked in, and it’s the softest thing I’ve seen in this house by far.

“That looks handmade,” I say.

“Our mom made it,” Boone says, and something in me crumbles. Maybe it’s exhaustion, but I’m suddenly very touched by these men, who I’ve known for barely more than a week, making room for me in their lives, and I almost feel like I could cry.

“Are you hungry?” Boone asks as Cade hovers in the doorway.

“Just tired.”

“Get some rest, then. The bathroom’s right next door. We all share it, but we’ll make it work. Make yourself at home, Wren.”

“Thank you.”

He leaves me alone, and I survey the space around me. There’s a window, a small bedside table, and a couple of framed pictures on the wall. A family with a smiling woman, a stern-looking man, and three identical school-age boys who look like they barely stopped moving long enough to pose for the picture. There’s another picture of the brothers in fatigues, arms around each other’s shoulders, probablymid-twenties.

I’m still looking at the photos when Rhett appears in the doorway. “Do you need anything?”

I shake my head. “I’m going to try to sleep.”

He nods once, his eyes surveying the room before he leaves.

I close the door and stand near it for a moment, listening to the sounds in the cabin. Floorboards creak, and water runs, then shuts off. There are low voices, then silence.

I find my pajamas, change into them, and crawl between the sheets, overwhelmed and exhausted.

It doesn’t take long for me to drift off, and when I do, I don’t dream of the men who chased me through the dark. I dream of the ones who came for me.