Sorry, I've been away for awhile. I've had major internet and email problems. But it's finally all resolved, and I'm back. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and I apologize if I didn't reply to you. Hopefully this story will draw a little more interest. I'm not one to abandon any story. I've completed every one that I've written on this site. But a little inspiration or constructive criticism never hurt.

Chapter 7

When we got back to the motel room, Tim saw that I was still upset. He pulled me into his arms. "A couple more days and we'll be partying in Vegas. I promise you." He kissed my forehead and released me.

While Tim went outside to muck out the trailer and take care of Striker, I went to the diner and bought a cup of coffee and a donut to go.

By the time I got back, Tim was in the bathroom taking a shower. A few minutes later he came out wearing a towel around his waist. "Is that for me?"

I handed him the coffee and the donut.

"Thanks. You're the best." He took a sip of the hot coffee and ate the donut in three bites.

I went outside and waited while he got dressed.

He came out with my suitcase and his duffle bag. After stowing them in the trailer's storage compartment, along with my other things that had been in the trunk of the car, Tim opened the back of the trailer.

I watched as he drove the car up the ramp into the trailer and then closed it all up.

We left the small town of Redmond behind and I was never so happy to leave a place before in my life…except Portland, of course.

A couple hours later, we stopped in Klamath Falls to get lunch to go. From there Tim said we would spend the night in Redding, in the northern part of California.

While we ate our sandwiches, I was holding Striker's lead rope as he grazed on some grass on the side of the road.

Tim looked something up on his cell phone. "Let's see, they have rooms available at the Bellagio. Have you ever stayed there before?"

"I've never been to Las Vegas. What's at the Bellagio?"

"Well, that's where they're holding the Cutting Horse Championship. Plus I can rent a stall for Striker for a couple of days and pay for his food."

I nodded. "Great idea. He could also use some exercise after being cooped up in the trailer. Maybe we should ride him. Is he broke?"

"According to his papers, he is green broke."

I laughed. "Green broke? Tim, do you even know how to ride?"

"'Course I do. I used to ride old man Foster's wild mustangs bareback when I was like ten years old. I can ride pretty good. I just don't know the book lingo, if you know what I mean. And I don't know a damned thing about Dressaaage either."

I wondered why he put so much emphasis on the "age" in dressage. "My advanced equestrian classes were mainly dressage."

"You did horse ballet?"

"I learned direct cues with leg and hand. It's all about collection and impulsion. Extended trot, piaffe, side pass, turn on the forehand. I won ribbons and trophies," I added proudly.

He smiled and stared. "That kind of talk is making me hot, Taylor."

I turned away so he wouldn't see my blush. "What kind of rooms do they have at the Bellagio?"

"The Salone Premier Fountain View Suite has a king-sized bed. I can draw a line down the middle and we can each take a side." He shrugged his left shoulder. "Or I can sleep on the pullout sofa."

"Seriously?"

"They have a great spa that's calling your name…Julie…Julie Taylor."

I snorted and rolled my eyes. "Fine. Book us in a Salone Premier Fountain View Suite."

As Tim booked it on his phone, I pulled on Striker's lead rope and jogged him up and down the side of the road a few times. I caught Tim watching me.

He smiled and held his phone aimed in my direction, taking a picture. "I'm sending this one to Coach."

Flashback – Three and a Half Years Ago

I went to the East Dillon Correctional Facility and checked in at the main desk. "I'm here to see Timothy Riggins."

The man behind the glass partition went on a computer. "Your name, miss?"

"Julie Taylor."

"Have a seat over there, please."

I waited for a half an hour and then someone came out to get me. Every time we passed a security station, they inspected the contents of a paper bag I had with me.

Finally they led me to an outdoor area with several picnic tables. I was told to sit and wait.

I glanced around, seeing two other prisoners in white jumpsuits, talking to visitors. I couldn't believe Tim was in prison. No one at home ever talked about it, so I didn't even know what he had done. It had been over a year since that night in the bathroom, and Tim and I hadn't seen much of each other in school after that. He graduated and went to San Antonio State, but that didn't last long and he came back to Dillon shortly after, to work in his brother's auto mechanic shop. Then suddenly Tim had gone to prison to serve a five year sentence.

So far he had been in for three months.

A few minutes later I looked up and saw a guard leading Tim out through a door and along the grass path between the picnic tables.

When Tim saw me, he slowed down and stopped.

There was something in his expression, something I didn't recognize. Humility and something else. This wasn't how I remembered him.

Tim looked away, shaking his head, before he finally moved forward again. He didn't look at me as he slid into the bench and placed his handcuffed hands on top of the picnic table. "Julie Taylor…What're you doing here?" he asked, still not looking at me.

I waited for the guard to move away before I responded. "I came to see how you were doing."

He didn't respond.

Then I realized what it was about him that was different. He had lost his sense of humor and his sarcasm. And it was unnerving. "Actually, I…I came to apologize."

His eyes came up. God, how I missed those eyes. "Apologize for what?"

"You were right. I gave you the green light. I wanted it to happen, but then I chickened out."

He frowned at me. "Why're you telling me now? Do you even know what's going on with me here?"

I nodded. "Yes, I…I know."

"No, you don't. Do you honestly think I give a rat's ass about what happened that night? You were just another rally girl to screw around with. That's it. It meant nothing."

My heart fell. It fell to the ground and he stomped on it with both feet. I was about to burst into tears, I could feel it. I needed to leave before I humiliated myself more than I already had. "I guess I deserve that." I slid off the bench and started to walk away.

"Shit…Jules, wait!"

I stopped and waited until I had my tears under control before I turned around.

Tim was on his feet and shrugging the guard's hand off his shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I…I don't…I don't know why I said that. It's not true." He ran a hand through his hair, the chain on his cuffs jingling. "I don't…" He paused and took a breath. "Can you just stay for a minute?"

The pleading look on his face made me walk back to the picnic table. We both sat down again and waited for the guard to step away.

"I'm sorry," Tim repeated, his eyes on the table top. "I'm a jerk, I know it. Or maybe you might want to use a stronger word than that. I fucked up. That's all I can say." He looked up at me and shook his head. "I didn't know what I was doing that night and I didn't know any better."

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"But you gotta give me credit. I mean, at least I wasn't so drunk that I still had enough sense not to… I didn't force myself on you."

"I know."

"And being with you…it meant something, Jules. It meant a lot because I care about you."

I nodded and then shook my head as my eyes burned with tears again. "I'm sorry for blaming it all on you and I'm sorry my dad kicked you out of our house."

He frowned. "How about if we just drop it, okay?"

"I can't pretend it never happened."

He shook his head. "No, I know that. I just want us to stop blaming each other."

"You're right. And I should be grateful you had the sense to stop. Maybe someone else wouldn't have. So I'm glad it was you and not anyone else." There I said it. It was out there.

"Yeah, I'm…I'm really glad it was me, too."

Just the way he said it, maybe he hadn't lost his sense of humor after all. I smiled at him. "Really? You're gonna say that to me?"

He shrugged. "Well, it was good, right? You can at least admit it."

I felt my cheeks grow hot. To distract myself and the direction of the discussion, I pushed the paper bag toward him. "I made these for you."

He opened the bag and looked inside before reaching in for a chocolate chip cookie. He smiled. "Please tell me your baking skills have improved since the last time you made cookies for me."

"Oh, come on. You had to know it was intentional back then."

He took a bite and chewed and then he nodded. "It's good."

"Thanks."

He looked up at me as he finished the cookie. "You graduate this year, don't ya?"

"Yes. I'm actually leaving Dillon when school's over and I'm moving to Portland."

"Portland, as in Oregon?"

I smiled. "See, you're not that bad in geography."

"Well, I wish you good luck with that, Jules."

"So, when're you getting out of here, Tim?"

"I'm up for parole in about five months. But there's no guarantee I'll be getting out. I might have to do the full five years."

I wanted to ask him what he had done, but I didn't want to spoil his mood. And maybe, deep down inside, I really didn't want to know. I glanced up and saw the guard tapping his watch. "I guess I have to get going." I slid out of the bench. "Try to stay out of trouble in there." Before I changed my mind, I bent and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Ma'am, don't touch the prisoner, please," said the guard.

Tim smiled. "You're starting trouble for me already."

I smiled back. "Enjoy the cookies, Tim. Goodbye."

"Bye."

I left the prison feeling melancholy. It was obvious Tim was miserable in there, even if he didn't admit it. But at least we finally confessed our flaws to each other about that pivotal night. Now I felt like I could finally move on with my life and put it all behind me.

Or maybe not.

End of Flashback

At 8:15, we arrived in Redding and pulled into a Holiday Inn. This looked a lot better than the motel in Redmond.

Tim grabbed my suitcase and his duffle from the storage compartment. We went through the front entrance and up to the front desk.

"Hi, can we get two rooms for the night?" Tim asked.

"Or just one with two beds would be fine," I blurted and Tim looked at me.

The woman behind the counter looked from me to Tim.

Tim nodded. "Just one room." He handed her his credit card. "And is there a place I can pick up a pizza and some beer?"

"Tony's Pizzeria is right next door. They don't serve alcohol, but there's a liquor store right next to them."

"Great."

The woman handed him back his credit card and made him sign something and then she handed him two key cards.

We went up to the room on the second floor and put our stuff down.

"I really need a shower," I said.

"Yeah, go ahead. I'll feed Striker and go get us a pizza and some beer."

"Sounds great."

He grabbed his keys and one of the key cards. "I'll be back in a little bit."

While he was gone, I took a shower and then threw on shorts and a tank top. As I walked around the hotel room, I noticed a sliding door behind a curtain. It lead to a patio with two wooden chairs and a small table. I opened it and stepped outside. It faced the parking lot and the forest just beyond it.

The truck and trailer were parked in the back of the lot where Tim had left them and even though it was dark, I could see Striker's head hanging out of the window. I was glad Tim decided to untie the horse and let him walk around inside the ten by ten foot space at the front of the trailer.

About fifteen minutes later I saw Tim walk through the parking lot holding a pizza box and a six pack of beer.

As he came closer to the entrance, I whistled. "Hey, stranger, are you looking for a party?"

He looked up to the balcony and saw me. "Sure, I'm up for a party." He disappeared inside.

A few minutes later he joined me on the balcony and sat in the other deck chair. "A quiet party sounds more like it." He opened the pizza box and then handed me a beer.

It was dark. The only light came from the windows of the room. And it was quiet. We could hear chirping crickets and an occasional hooting owl. There wasn't a single sound of traffic anywhere.

We ate and drank in silence and it felt comfortable just being there with him.

I heard myself scream and I sat up in bed, looking around but not recognizing my surroundings.

"Hey, are you all right?"

At first I thought Henry was in the room, but I knew I wasn't in my apartment in Portland and that wasn't his voice.

"Jules?" It was Tim.

I ran my fingers through my hair. It was still the middle of the night. "Yeah, I'm…fine. It was just a nightmare." I remembered the dream and remembered that face with the black eyes. The robber had been after me. His teeth were sharp, like daggers, like an alien. Like a demon. I wasn't an expert at dream interpretation, but it felt like an omen to me, like I needed to look over my shoulder from now on.

Tim got out of his bed and sat down on the edge of mine. I was distraught, but apparently not enough to not notice he wore nothing but white boxers…and the scent of sweat…God, how could he smell so bad and so good at the same time.

"Look, Jules, I'm not an idiot. I know something else drove you out besides that joke boyfriend you were living with. Are you gonna tell me?"

I sighed, resigning myself to telling someone. Why not Tim? "Fine, but you have to promise not to tell my dad. I'll tell him when I get back home."

"All right, I promise."

"There was a robbery yesterday morning where I work. The guy had on a ski mask and he put a gun on my face and Larry opened the safe to get the money."

"What…? Wait a minute….what?" He shifted further in my direction.

I started talking fast and couldn't stop. "He dragged me outside. I was holding the bag of money and I went in my purse and got my mace and sprayed his eyes. I ran back inside and locked the door. Then he shot at me and the glass shattered and the next thing I know I'm pulling off his ski mask and I saw his face." I was shaking now, the terrified kind of shaking. "He told me I was dead, just before he drove off."

"Holy shit, Julie. What'd the police say? Do they know who it is?"

"All they know is that he's robbed a bunch of banks and killed six people. He always had on that ski mask and I'm the only one that ever saw his face. I'm the only one that can identify him. The detective on the case told me to leave town. He said he'd call me if they catch him. I'm really scared, Tim. What if they never catch him? What if he tracks me down?"

"Hey, com'ere." Tim slid closer and pulled me into his arms. "He doesn't know who you are, so he can't track you down." He buried his fingers in my hair and held my face against his shoulder. "Besides, I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. Not on my watch."

I closed my eyes and pressed my lips against his warm skin. "I saw his face in my dream," I whispered.

"He's the one that hit you, wasn't he?" he asked a minute later.

"Yes."

"It's okay. Lay down."

I didn't want him to let me go. But he released me and I laid back down. Then he surprised me by sliding beneath the covers and pulling me back into his arms. I buried my face in his shoulder again.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'll stay here with you." He kissed the top of my head. "Try and sleep."

I closed my eyes as I felt the heat emanating from him. It felt good. It felt comforting.

And it felt safe.