Season Of Hope. Lisa Jordan

him off balance. “Get me out of here.”

      Jake scooped her into his arms and carried her down the steps, through the house and out the front door, where he deposited her gently on the top step of the front porch.

      Tori gulped in a lungful of fresh air, wiped the backs of her hands across the dried trail of tears down her cheeks and forced a smile. “I’m not a damsel in distress, you know. I can take care of myself.”

      “Everyone needs to be rescued at one point or another, and there’s no shame in that.” Jake looked at her a moment, then jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward his truck. “I have a first aid kit in the glove box. Let me grab it and clean up your leg a little.”

      He returned a moment later and tore open an antiseptic wipe as she pulled up the leg of her jeans. Gritting her teeth, she tensed as the antiseptic wipe stung the cut above her ankle.

      “Sorry.” He shot her a quick look. “What happened?”

      Tori gave him a replay and tried not to wince as his fingers brushed across the torn skin. After cleaning the area, he ripped open three bandages and plastered them over the cut. “I don’t think it’s deep enough for stitches, but you can get it checked out if you want. Or I can have Tuck look it over once he wakes up—he works midnights.”

      “I trust you. It’s just a cut. Nothing serious.” Tori reached for her phone but found her back pocket to be empty. Oh, that’s right—it had flown out of her hand. She heaved a sigh, causing Jake’s eyes to jerk to her face.

      “You okay?”

      She dragged a hand over her face and pressed it to her throbbing forehead. “My phone. It’s lost in the attic somewhere. Aunt C’s going to wonder where I am. How did you know I was here anyway?”

      “I drove by, saw your car and decided to stop for a quick tour of the house to see what needs to be done. Looks like we’ll have to start by patching that hole.” Jake shot her a half smile that sent her heart skittering across her ribs. He gathered the trash, stuffed it into his front pocket and closed the first aid kit. “Are you okay to drive?”

      “Of course. It’s nothing more than a bruise and a cut.”

      He held out his hand to her. “Lean on me. I’ll get you to your car so you can rest for a moment, then I’ll go back to the attic to find your phone.”

       Lean on me.

      She’d love nothing more.

      Jake wrapped an arm around her waist and guided her down the steps. She pressed her cheek into the softness of his T-shirt and inhaled the scent of hay mixed with sunshine. For the first time in a very long time, she felt safe. But knowing it was a momentary kindness—of Jake being Jake and helping out someone in need—filled her heart with sadness that threatened to buckle her knees.

      She wanted his forgiveness. A fresh start. But that wasn’t possible. He’d made that clear already. And somehow she had to figure out how to live with that.