Reckless Hearts

Chapter 22

You felt like you had barely been asleep for five minutes, when you felt someone gently rousing you, and calling your name.

"Kara, come on, wake up," Dutch coaxed.

You slowly opened your eyes, remembering the annoying schedule of being fed, much like a baby. But grateful none the less that the small amount of food, you had consumed earlier, had stayed in your stomach.

You felt Dutch's hands, His firm grip, but still gentle, on your arms easing you into a sitting position.

You blinked, trying to wake. It would have been all to easy to close your eyes, and drift back off to sleep. You forced yourself into wakefulness.

Dutch already had the bowl of food ready. It didn't taste that bad. It was some sort of oatmeal, but was sweet. Possibly honey you thought.

Dutch gave you two spoonfuls and went to put the bowl back down.

"Please Dutch," you begged, "let me try a little more?"

His brows knitted together, "I don't know, baby girl. You don't wanna be ill again." he worried.

"Please," you begged again, "the sooner I can eat properly, the sooner we can go."

Dutch nodded, "ok, but not too much." he relented.

You ate two more spoonfuls, of the food. But that was all he would allow. He also made you drink, more water.

He helped you to lay back down.

It seemed pointless to you, to sleep for such a short amount of time.

"Dutch, will you read to me?" you whispered.

Dutch smiled, "what would you like me to read?"

You thought for a moment, "The book you gave me, its in my tent."

He tilted his head to one side, "You're not trying to distract me, so you can do something you shouldn't, are you?" he cautioned.

A small laugh, came out in a sigh. "not right now." you concluded.

Dutch stood up and walked towards the door, glancing back at you, as if expecting you to run off. The truth of the matter was you could barely sit, let alone run.

He wasn't gone long. When he walked back into the tent, you smiled.

"See, still here," you quipped.

Dutch chuckled, as he sat down on the cot, just behind you. He leant back, and pulled you into him, so that your head was resting on his chest. Holding the book in one hand, his other hand started to stroke your hair. His fingers running through the dark brown strands.

You closed your eyes, listening to the deep baritone tones of his voice, his hand on your hair and head, relaxing you.

You weren't really sure when, but at some point you zoned out. Not actually listening to the words, just the comforting tone. Every so often you would drift into a half sleep then suddenly jerk awake.

When you did this, he would stop reading for a second, then resume. You guessed he knew that you were dozing. But he carried on reading none the less.

The endless loop, went on until morning, reading, dozing then eating a little. The warmth of his body, soothing the hurt on your back.

By the time the sun rose, the bowl of food was gone. Dutch had put the book down, and you were just dozing, sleeping on his chest, whilst his hands continues to play with your hair.