Kane Cornelison sat up in the rocky flowerbed in front of Autumn House and clutched his head with both hands, hoping that would stop the pounding in his temples.
It didn’t.
Hallie—sweet, beautiful Hallie!—was here. Wet hanks of her honey-blonde hair fell into her caramel eyes as she bent over him. Rain dripped from her elbow onto his already-soaked trousers. She touched his shoulder. He could see her lips moving, but the roaring in his head made it hard to hear anything. Or maybe that was the thunder booming overhead?
What had happened?
He remembered Hallie. Remembered how outgoing and funny she’d been back in high school. How she kissed—innocent and sweet like melting chocolate. He remembered the full docket he’d worked through yesterday, the bagel and scrambled eggs he’d had for breakfast this morning.
But the last ten minutes were a black hole. Had he fallen? Been hit over the head?
And why did he have this urgent sense of foreboding?
"Are you okay?” He read her lips. He didn’t know how to answer her. Something deep inside told him to get her out of here. But his legs felt like licorice whips and his head still spun. He couldn’t remember if he’d driven up the long winding drive or parked down at the mailbox and walked up.
Hallie’s eyes were tearing up. Then something bumped his elbow.
“Cowardly.” He looked down on the Hulk-sized golden retriever. Huh. One of those loops hulaing around his brain remembered the dog’s presence.
“Cowardly?” Now that his head was clearing—it was, wasn’t it?—Hallie’s soft question hit him in the solar plexus.
“Cowardly Lion,” he grunted.
“Cute. Yours?” He nodded and followed her gaze down to the beast now showing his belly, practically begging to be scratched. He had so much heart, but a single knock on the front door would send him scurrying under the bed.
Hallie sneezed. And his focus shifted to the bright-red tip of her nose. Allergies.
She wasn’t upset about seeing him again. Or reacting to the mysterious bump on his head. Her eyes were watering because she was allergic.
Stupid, voices from the past whispered to him. You’re an idiot.
“Can you stand?” Hallie asked. “I think you need to see a doctor. You might be concussed.”
He allowed her to steady him with a hand beneath his elbow as he lurched to his feet. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to wake up crotchety Doc Snicks at this time of night, but getting Hallie away from Autumn House was a winner in his book.
Cowardly whined and crowded against his shins, upsetting his balance. Hallie’s arm came around his waist at the same time his breath caught.
A pair of headlights flickered through the skeletal tree limbs, coming up the drive.
Read more tomorrow on the blog!
And don't miss Lacy's October release, Her Cowboy Deputy, from Love Inspired Historical.
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