The nun stayed limp against him, breathing shallow, head resting lightly on his chest. Every now and then she would stir, her fingers tightening on his shirt like she was grabbing the last safe thing in the world and refusing to let go.
By the time the creek near Hollister Ranch came into view, Jake realized something strange.
She hadn’t fought him.
Not even when she woke halfway and seemed to realize she was being carried by a man she’d never met. No flailing. No panic. No scream.
Just that tight grip, and a silence that felt like trust mixed with exhaustion.
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