Karen Smith - Her Honor-bound Lawman

Even though she’d told herself she wasn’t expecting another kiss, and she shouldn’t even want another kiss, she waited for Tucker and let the heat of his lips engulf her. There was so much heat in him, so much passion that swept through her as his tongue stroked hers.

Yet as easily as he’d bent to her, he abruptly pulled away. She wondered why…if he still thought another kiss was a mistake, until she became aware of voices and saw a couple approaching the truck on the driver’s side. Tucker’s lawman instincts must have alerted him.

As the couple passed Tucker’s window, Emma recognized them. They had been sitting a few rows in front of her and Tucker inside the movie theater. The girl’s hair was thick, auburn and straight, drifting down her back. It blew in the wind. Suddenly Emma’s head started to pound. A pain lanced through her right temple, and she brought her hand up to it reflexively.

“Emma? What’s wrong?”

She heard the murmur of Tucker’s voice, yet not his words. She was lost somewhere, somewhere black that turned to gray and then a picture. She was brushing auburn hair and braiding it. The pain in her temple became worse and she saw herself tying a small blue bow on the end of the braid. Just as quickly as the vision had come, it vanished, and Emma felt breathless and shaken.

Tucker was clasping her arm now. “Emma, tell me what’s happening.”

“I saw…I saw something.”

“That couple who passed by?”

“The woman…she…her hair—” She knew she wasn’t making any sense and she tried to think past the throbbing in her head. “I got a headache and then, and then I was brushing someone’s hair and braiding it. It was auburn, just like that girl’s.”

Tucker reached up to Emma’s temples and massaged gently. “Did you see anything else?”

“A blue ribbon. I was tying a blue ribbon on the braid.”

Tucker’s voice remained steady and calm. “Can you see yourself? How old you are?”

“It’s gone, Tucker. I can’t see anything now.”

His fingers were comforting and sensual and although her head still pounded, the pain was diminishing.

“See if you can get it back again.”

She tried. She tried to see it once more. But she couldn’t, and she shook her head.

Yet he kept probing. “How old were you?” he asked again.

“I…I don’t know.”

“Could you tell how old the girl was? Was she a child, a teenager?”

“Tucker, I don’t know,” she responded, frustrated now. “I could only see her hair…my fingers on her braid…and the ribbon.”

“Okay,” he murmured, pulling her close to him, letting her head rest on his shoulder. “Try to relax. If you let your thoughts scatter, maybe it will come back.”

She knew what he was thinking, that she was trying too hard to remember, that the harder she tried, the less she’d see. He was probably right. But her heart was still pounding, and her head hurt, and he felt so good and safe and strong as she leaned into him.

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