Free Snowbound by Janice Kay Johnson

want one of her students to see her so vulnerable. What if she snored? Drooled? Talked in her sleep? Within a day of getting back to Hawes Ferry, every kid in her high school would know. Shed be at the front of the class lecturing, and hear a soft snore from the back of the room followed by an eruption of giggles. Hed be doing her a favor, waking her up himself.
    He watched the clock, which moved with infuriating slowness. The moment it reached four-thirty, he rose to his feet. Half the kids still lounged downstairs, while four of them had disappeared. Their teacher would undoubtedly have worried, but John didnt care what they were doing off by themselves.
    In the hall above, giggles came through the closed door to one of the girls rooms, followed by the deeper rumble of a boys voice. Dieter was still downstairs; Hopper or Troy, then.
    Fionas door was shut as well. John knocked lightly. When there was no response, he opened it, then cleared his throat.
    The dark head on the pillow didnt move.
    Leaving the door slightly ajar, he crossed the room.
    Still dressed, shed stretched out on top of the down comforter, then pulled half of it over her. She apparently didnt snore and wasnt drooling, but neither did she stir even when he cleared his throat again, more loudly.
    Fiona.
    She slept on, lips parted, her expression serene. Clearly she wasnt fighting bad dreams.
    He reached out, wanting to push back the curls that had fallen over her face. His fingers tingled from the need to feel their springy texture and the plump satin of her cheeks. But he didnt want her to catch him in the act, so reluctantly he shook her shoulder instead.
    Fiona.
    She mumbled something and buried her face in the pillow.
    Perhaps he should just go start dinner himself. He wasnt used to help and didnt really need it. Spaghetti was one of his standbys. He had made it weekly for the past year.
    Maybe shed only fallen asleep a short while ago. A trade paperback book lay open beside her, facedown. It looked as if shed gotten a fair way into it, so she must have read for quite a while. Curious, he tilted his head so he could see what shed chosen to read.
    Generation Kill: Devil Dogs, Iceman, Captain America, and the New Face of American War.
    John stiffened at the sight of the faceless soldier dressed in desert camouflage depicted on the cover. He hadnt known the book was on the shelf. He hadnt read it, didnt want to.
    Why had she spent her afternoon immersed in the Iraq war? Was she trying to answer questions she hadnt felt she could ask him? Or did her curiosity have nothing to do with him?
    A kind of panic flooded him. What had she read inthe book? Did it talk about the price soldiers like him had paid for killing? About the callousness that so easily encased them? Had she read about the way terror made your skin crawl and your bowels loosen, how you had to quit thinking about home, about people you loved, or you got even more scared that you were going to die?
    He started to back up. He suddenly didnt want her eyes to open, for her to gaze searchingly at him and see too much.
    The foot he couldnt help dragging caught on something and in trying to right himself he put too much weight on that leg. His hip spasmed and he grabbed for the edge of the dresser. The mirror rattled against the wall.
    John? she said softly, sleepily. Oh! Are you all right?
    The agony retreated. He unclenched his jaw. Im fine.
    Youre not.
    He turned. Im fine!
    Half sitting up, she shrank back from his anger. Im sorry.
    This was why he stayed away from people. One of the reasons he stayed away.
    Theres no reason for you to be sorry. He tested some weight on the leg, which held. I was a jackass. He hesitated. I get spasms.
    Hair tousled, she eyed him warily. I can tell it hurts.
    Ithappens less often than it used to. Regular exercise helps.
    She was relaxing. Like chopping wood and hauling it in?
    Not what the physical therapist had in mind, butyeah.
    He allowed himself to relax, too.