…Isabella POV…
In the deep of the night, I pace my way barefoot up and down the camp. My hair is getting soak, and my toes are disappearing deep into the mud. Why on such an evening does it have to rain so hard. The same hardness the thoughts are pounding through my mind. Is Clayton okay? Why? Why now did they have to do it" If it were not raining so hard, I would have felt better, or is that even the truth. What if I did not walk myself into trouble? Would this have happened? There are so many what-ifs.
Then I feel a hand come from behind and rest on my shoulder. As I spin around and nearly slide off my feet, I see Harrison, showing for me to come in from the rain. I have been doing it for hours. As I finally step out into the dry tent, he hands me a towel and a hot cup of coffee.
"You are going to drive yourself crazy out there; the boys are fine, don't let your head tell you any different."
"How, how can you be so sure?"
