Rocky Mountain Lawman

chapter 15



Sky awoke with difficulty. Sleep kept wanting to drag her back into darkness, into a jumble of images she couldn’t evaluate for their reality. A flash of twisting in the air, another flash of being dragged through a door into the belly of a beast.

A woman’s voice: “This will prick.” She never felt the prick.

And now she was hot. So very hot. She struggled against the muzzy thickening in her head. “Hot,” she managed to croak.

Something lifted from her, and she immediately felt cooler. A hand touched her brow.

“You’re coming out of anesthesia,” a woman’s voice said. “Morphine for pain. You’re going to be just fine.”

She let the darkness take her again.

The next time waking was easier. Pain pounded in her leg, but much reduced. With effort she opened her eyes and saw a ceiling. Curtains. Hospital. It was over.

A sigh escaped her. Somehow she had made it.

“Sky?”

Her eyes tracked to the right and she saw Craig leaning toward her. She felt him squeeze her hand. “Relax, heal. I’ll be right here.”

“My leg?”

“It’s reset. It was a bad break, but they didn’t need to insert a pin. You’ll be up and about in no time.”

“What...” But exhaustion claimed her again. Exhaustion and meds.

Bright western sunlight streamed through the window of her room, golden in the late afternoon. In the distance she could see the purpling mountains.

“Welcome back.”

She turned her head the other way, ignoring the throb the movement induced, and saw a very weary, unshaved Craig sitting beside her in a dirty, wrinkled uniform. But he smiled and leaned toward her, brushing the lightest of kisses on her lips.

“I had to fight with them to be here,” he said. “Some stupid rule about family only. And then you’ve got a waiting room full out there. Those vets you gave that talk to? There’s a lot of them out there keeping vigil. Even though you’re going to be fine, they seem to want to see with their own eyes.”

“Wow,” she murmured. “Water?”

“I don’t know, but there’s ice chips here. Want some?”

He tipped a cup to her lip and she held the chips on her tongue, enjoying the way they moistened her mouth. She didn’t feel thirsty, but her mouth felt like desert sand.

“More?”

She took a few more, and finally the roof of her mouth let go of her tongue. “What happened?”

“Beginning where? If you’re tired, I’ll give you the short version.”

“Long version.” She winced as she tried to lift herself higher on the bed.

“Hold on. That’s what they make these handy dandy buttons for.” He passed her the control that was dangling from her headboard and put her thumb over a button. “This should raise your head. Do it slowly. I don’t know how it’s going to make your leg feel.”

She hardly felt it in her leg at all, but stared down to discover she now sported a cast from toes to knee. It was propped on a couple of pillows.

“Okay. Please pass me the ice and tell me.”

So he told her. She gasped but wasn’t completely surprised when she learned that she had been set up to have an accident. “So they could be heroes? Amazing.”

“I agree. Apparently one of them called for help, and when you started to climb down, someone else kicked a rock loose and you fell.”

“Nice of them.”

“Well, Cap and one of his guys are dead now, and four others are in custody. We’re piecing it together.”

He sketched her rescue by helicopter, and told her how impressed everyone was by the way she’d splinted her own leg and taken care of herself.

“Survival,” she said, dismissing it. “Anyone would have.”

“Not everyone would agree with you.” His tone was gentle. “Regardless, you’re here, you’re alive and you’re safe. That’s what matters most.”

He squeezed her hand and she clung to it, but a few minutes later, a nurse shooed him out. He promised to come back as soon as they let him.

She didn’t hear him return, as fatigue claimed her yet again.

* * *

Three days later she was released with crutches, a cast, a sheaf of directions and some pain medications. Craig helped her into his truck, then asked where she wanted to go.

“The cabin,” she said immediately. “I know I’ll be useless, but if you don’t mind...”

“I don’t mind. I’m on vacation. If I can make you comfortable there, I will.”

“I’ll be fine.” In the back of her mind was a job offer she had received from those same vets who had kept vigil in the waiting room. They wanted her to stay on and work with them, and were offering a tiny salary. It might be just about enough if she was careful, and it would let her paint more. The idea was tempting.

But if there was one thing she knew for certain, it was that she wasn’t going to stay here if Craig had lost interest in her. Right now she couldn’t tell.

Some kind of wall seemed to have grown between them. She had been feeling it even as he had hovered at the hospital. Maybe he felt this wouldn’t be a good time to ditch her, given her injury. Or maybe it was something else.

“I was so stupid to run off into the woods like that,” she said, voicing the concern that had plagued her almost as much as wondering about him. “I know better.”

“We often know better but do things anyway. You thought someone was hurt. I’d have done the same thing.”

“But you aren’t a city girl.”

“Neither are you, not really.”

“I should have at least left some indication of the direction I’d taken. I did mark my trail, though. Is that how you found me?”

“If you marked your trail, someone was at pains to remove them all. No markers. That surprised me.”

“God! Who would have thought?”

“Anyway, I followed Buddy, Cap and this other guy. That’s how I found you.”

“Why’d you follow them?”

“Because Cap was too damn eager to select his own section of the search grid.”

“That would do it.” She turned her attention out the window, watching town disappear behind them, then watching as they steadily climbed into the mountains, passing the ranger station and climbing upward.

“How’s your leg doing?” he asked.

“Sore, but not that bad.” The kind of question anyone would have asked. Damn, she was starting to feel teary, but what had she expected? Declarations of undying love? He hardly knew her. Maybe she should have stayed in town instead of inflicting herself on him. Somebody else could look after what little bit she would need.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “If it’s too much trouble, just take me back to town.”

He jammed on the brakes, skidding on the gravel. She looked at him, startled.

“Cut that out,” he said tautly. “Just cut that out. We’re going to talk, but not while I’m driving. Damn logging trucks...”

She wondered what kind of explanation that was. He needed to concentrate and anything they discussed would distract him? That didn’t make her feel good at all.

Never before had he been sharp with her, and that caused the growing crack in her heart to deepen. She blinked back tears, telling herself she was just down because of the recent physical trauma, that she’d be fine and that she couldn’t possibly have fallen for a guy so soon after Hector.

Craig was a loner anyway, she reminded herself. A guy who preferred the solitude of the woods to human companionship. She had to admit she couldn’t blame him. Everyone was different, and he seemed to have chosen a solitary path through life.

So buck up and press on. She’d gotten past worse things.

She tried instead to think about the nice offer that veterans group had given her. They’d even promised her that there’d be more of them because once word got out that they were doing more than chewing the fat together, others might start coming to meetings more often. She liked their optimism. Certainly they’d seemed to like her brief introduction to art therapy. They’d even confided that they’d contacted the VA about getting her transferred here. That would have been sweet.

Somebody wanted to keep her around, anyway.

But she wasn’t going to stay. Craig was clearly wrestling with something, and she figured if he wanted her to hang around he wouldn’t be wrestling with anything at all. No, the hard thing was telling someone to get lost. Or, putting it more nicely: go back home.

Back at the cabin, he steadied her until she was safely seated in the armchair, then he went out to his truck and returned with a few pillows. Pulling over a bench, he propped up her leg.

“Thank you.”

He gave her a smile that almost seemed to reach his eyes. Almost. She hated being unable to help as he built a fire, then started carting in coolers, blankets, a...was that a foam mattress?

She stared at it, wondering. Well, of course, she’d opted for the cabin and he was just protecting her leg. A kind, caring man who did kind, caring things, that was all.

But at last he was done, and had started a pot of coffee. Then he pulled the second bench over and sat near enough to reach for her hand.

“Now we can talk.”

Here it came, she thought. The pain in her heart suddenly rivaled the pain when she had broken her leg. “Yes?”

“It’s no problem for me to have you here. Far from it. I can’t tell you how glad I was when you said you wanted to come out here.”

Glad? Her heart lifted a tiny bit and she tried to squash it back down. Getting her hopes up was only going to make this harder.

“Damn, Sky, is the world really ending?”

“What do you mean?” God, she loved looking into his gray eyes.

“You look ready to cry. I know you’re tired. You’re probably hurting like hell. Do you want to leave this until later?”

“Leave what? Just talk to me now.” She braced herself.

He glanced away for a moment. “I’m not usually a chicken.”

“That doesn’t sound good.” Her heart cracked even more, and grief began to seep out around the edges.

His gaze pierced her. “That depends. It’s just that I’ve never even wanted to give my heart to someone. I didn’t know how difficult it could be.” He paused. “Well, hell, I’ve already given you my heart. The question is what you want to do with it.”

Astonishment deprived her of speech. Anticipated grief didn’t want to give way to hope. Hope was dangerous.

“Look,” he said, “I know I live the kind of life most women would hate. I get it, I’ve heard it often enough. I’m the kind of man who will be gone for days at a time. I won’t be around a lot, at least not in the summer, and I couldn’t possibly claim that would make me the best friend or companion. Then, I know you’ve got a whole life down in Florida. Why in hell would you want to give that up to live in the middle of nowhere with a guy who’s gone a lot? But the simple fact is, I can’t stop hoping that you might see some reason, any reason, to want to hang around. I love you, Sky. If I wasn’t sure of it before, I was convinced when I almost lost you. It’s really selfish, I know, but I’d rather not spend the rest of my life without you.”

Joy began to blossom within her, at first almost painful as it shot her from the depths to the heights faster than a rocket. “Selfish?” she repeated stupidly.

“I know it’s selfish. What can I offer? A lot of solitude and a cabin in the woods. Most women would run from that in a heartbeat. I mean, if I weren’t selfish, I suppose I’d be offering to follow you home, but honestly, Sky, I’d feel crushed by the crowding and then I’d make you truly miserable. I’m recognizing my own limitations here. It’s not easy.”

She needed to stop him before he put himself down any more. She tugged his hand until she pressed it to her heart. “Sh,” she said.

He sighed. “I know. I’m sorry. This isn’t fair to you.”

“Cut it out,” she said, repeating his words. “Can I talk now?”

He nodded, clearly bracing himself.

“I love you, too. I want to stay here. In fact, I’ve even got a job offer from the veterans group. It would be just enough, and I’d have more time to paint. But most importantly, I could be with you.”

She watched emotions race across his face. “Really? Even though being with me would mean not being with me for days at a time?”

“I’m pretty self-sufficient. I can handle it. What I can’t handle is losing you.”

The next thing she knew, he’d leaned into her, wrapping her in a crushing bear hug, his cheek against hers, his mouth against her ear.

“I love you,” he murmured, sounding choked. “Dang, I never thought this would happen. But I love you. Just promise me you’ll tell me if you change your mind. Promise me.”

“I promise.” It was an easy promise to make, because she knew she’d never have to keep it. Her heart soared, and she lifted her arms to wrap them around his powerful shoulders. “I love you, Craig. Always. I promise that, too.”

He pulled back a bit, then swallowed anything else she might have said in a kiss that reached her heart and soul both.

“I love you.” The first words on life’s best journey.

* * * * *