The Storm You Chase (Hell Yeah!)

by Sable Hunter

  Clint stayed where he was. “None of us do, baby. A meteorite could land on top of us tomorrow.”

  “Well, you have to weigh the odds. Right now, mine aren’t looking too good.”

  When she turned her back on him, Clint got to his feet. He felt totally defeated. “You don’t have to do this, Jensen. You don’t have to face this alone.”

  “Right now, I need to. Please. I care about you. I do. But…please – just go home.”

  Clint looked around. Despite its beauty, her house seemed cold and uninviting. Living together, they’d made his house feel like a home. How could he return to it without her? “I’ll leave – but know this, Jensen Mistretta. Wherever you are – that’s home to me.”

  Choked up, she went to the door, waiting for him to depart. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Just don’t give up on us.” He placed his hands on her upper arms and kissed her gently. One kiss led to another until he wrapped her tightly in his embrace and kissed her with all the desperate longing and love in his heart.

  Heaven help her, she kissed him back for the longest before she began to push him away. “Please don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

  Clint bowed his head, his heart aching. “I’ll leave, but this isn’t over. I love you and I’ll wait for you for as long as it takes.”

  With those parting words, he gave her one last long look – then he was gone.

  * * *

  Wherever you are is home to me. I love you and I’ll wait for you for as long as it takes.

  Clint’s words kept running through her mind. There was no doubt in her mind that he meant them. He’d proved himself to her more than once. No, the problem was that she just couldn’t see inflicting this travesty onto his shoulders. He had no idea what he’d be letting himself in for. If this turned out to be what she feared, losing a breast to a mastectomy would be a walk in the park compared to what she’d have to endure. Now if things turned out okay…but honestly, she was afraid to hope.

  Heading south on 35, she watched for the I-10 exit that would take her east to Houston. With her penchant for backroads, Jensen would’ve normally gone through the small towns of Brenham and Giddings, but she didn’t feel like smelling the roses today. On the main thoroughfares, she could just go with the flow. A sense of dread enveloped her as she continued on her journey. As a doctor, she knew what to expect – that didn’t mean she experienced no trepidation or fear. Jensen was no more fond of pain and discomfort than the next person.

  As she slowed down to make the turn, she glanced in her rearview mirror. “What the…?” For a moment, she thought she recognized a black Corvette a few cars back. “No. You’re imagining things. Clint isn’t following you.” She hadn’t seen him since he left her house the day before yesterday. Checking the view behind her once more, she could see a line of cars, but no Corvette was in sight. “See. Wishful thinking.”

  Yes, despite her demands and determination, she wanted him with her. She wasn’t nuts. Of course she wanted him near. He would’ve been a tremendous comfort for her. A source of strength. The reason he wasn’t here was to protect his feelings – not hers.

  …Four cars behind Jensen, Clint kept his eye on her Audi. Once, he thought she might’ve spotted him. He’d been near enough to see her reflection in her rearview mirror. Since she hadn’t pulled over and demanded he do likewise, he thought he might be safe. The idea of her climbing from her car, mad as a little wet hen, made him smile.

  Unbeknownst to Jensen, he’d managed to keep tabs on her since she’d shown him the door. He’d enlisted the help of two very important allies. Scott and Nicky. And while Scott was helpful, her partner had qualms about giving out information behind Jensen’s back. His little buddy Nicky had no such scruples. He’d visited his neighbor and point blank asked her where she was going, when she was leaving – and when she was coming back. Then, he’d promptly passed on said information to Clint. Nicky considered them to be partners in crime.

  Per Nicky, her appointment was at 1 p.m. on the 2nd floor of the Duncan Building. He planned on giving her enough time to get settled in before he made his presence known. Yes, he knew she might get mad enough to whale the tar out of him, but that was a chance he was willing to take. She needed him, whether she wanted to admit it or not. And God knows, he needed her. This was a selfish move on his part, he knew that. He just didn’t give a hoot. Clint’s place was at her side and Jensen might as well get used to it.

  * * *

  Lying on her back, staring at the ceiling, Jensen tried to zone out. Soon, they’d come to take her away for the biopsy. She knew the drill. Needles. Incisions. IV’s. Tests. Jensen would much rather administer them than endure them.

  Bear up, she told herself. This whole ordeal wouldn’t last but a few hours, she could deal.

  More than anything, she just wanted the day to be over. As she processed these normal thoughts, a little voice whispered in the back of her mind that this wouldn’t be the end of it. This damn hammer would dangle over her head from now on. There would always be more tests. More worry. More uncertainty. More fear and foreboding until the time came when the day would dawn without her.

  Was that any kind of way to live?

  Yet…wasn’t that the way everyone lived?

  The only difference was that she had a pretty good idea what the instrument of her demise would be. Others had the privilege of being surprised. “Ha!” When she found gallows humor amusing, Jensen knew the drugs were kicking in.

  “Ready, Dr. Mistretta?”

  She blinked her eyes open, realizing she’d dozed off. “Yes. Sure.” Taking note of her surroundings, Jensen realized the nurse was wheeling her to the operating room.

  “We’ve just given you another sedative. You should be drifting off in a moment. When you wake up, it’ll all be over.”

  “But the crying,” she mumbled. As she watched the light fixtures go by overhead as her gurney passed below, her mind wandered to the only place it wanted to go – Clint Wilder.

  In spite of her better judgment, she’d fallen for him. Truth be told, it had been damn easy to do. The man was a catch by anyone’s standards. Instead of counting backwards from ten, she could name his good points. Hollywood handsome. Successful. Smart. Funny. Kind. Noble. And so loving it made her melt.

  Jensen couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing. Was he thinking of her?

  That was her last coherent thought.

  …A hand caressed her arm. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she? One of my favorite things to do is watch her sleep. When will she wake up? Has she been out too long?”

  Jensen knew she was dreaming. She tried to wake up.

  “Dr. Mistretta? Open your eyes for us, sweetie?”

  The nurse’s voice pierced the fog enveloping her brain. “Okay.”

  When she opened one eye, it wasn’t the nurse she saw – it was Clint.

  “You came,” she whispered. “You weren’t supposed to come.”

  “Where else would I be? The woman I love is here.”

  “Awww.” The nurse fanned herself. “He’s adorable.”

  “He’s hard-headed.” Jensen wanted to cry. She was happy to see him, but he was just prolonging the agony. “I wish you hadn’t come. Telling you goodbye hurts too much.”

  “Well, don’t do it. I’m not going anywhere. And I’ll be driving you home, you’re in no shape to drive yourself. I left my car at team headquarters and a friend will drive it to Austin in a few days.”

  Jensen didn’t feel like arguing. She just wanted to sleep. Shutting her eyes, she closed out the world – including Clint.

  ...For three hours, Clint sat by her side. She didn’t say more than five words to him the whole time. He knew she was upset, but he didn’t know what else to do. He didn’t know how to stay away from her.

  Once she was released, he drove her home to Georgetown. He only asked her once if she’d rather go to his house and when she said no, he didn’t push. Upon ar
riving at her home, he helped her in, staying long enough to make sure she was comfortable and had something to eat. He was so worried. She was ethereally beautiful, but far too pale. Too quiet. Clint wanted to hold her so much he ached. “Can I do anything for you?”

  “Yea.” She patted the bed next to her. “Come here. Let me try and explain this to you.”

  “Explain what?”

  “Why it’s best we’re apart.”

  Sorrow ripped through Clint’s chest. “You’ve been pushing me away since day one, Jensen. Yet, I can’t seem to leave you. I know you love me. I can see it in your eyes. When two people feel the way we do about one another, their place is together. No matter what the circumstances.”

  “Please sit. I have something to tell you.”

  Whatever it was, he knew he didn’t want to hear it. “There’s nothing you can say to make me want to walk away from you.”

  Jensen sighed, gazing at her hands clasped in her lap. “I think I told you my mother died from cancer. It started in her breast but metastasized to her lungs, her bones – everywhere before she succumbed. Her suffering was horrific. My father wasn’t with her the whole time, but when he was I watched him fail right along with her. He couldn’t stand to see her in pain. He would sit by her bed for as long as he could, then take a walk and cry his heart out. The sad thing is there wasn’t anything we could do for her. She was in agony and the morphine they allotted her gave very little relief. I am convinced the time he spent with Mother hastened the progress of his own disease. She would beg him to leave her. Watching him deteriorate only made my mother’s suffering harder for her to endure.”

  “When you remember your parents, you see us, don’t you?”

  Jensen shook her head. “No, not exactly.”

  “I’m not sick, Jensen. Like I told you before, I’m not your dad. And you aren’t your mom.”

  “I have breast cancer, Clint.”

  “You had breast cancer. We don’t know if it has spread or not.”

  “Not yet. We’ll know soon.”

  “Whatever happens, I’ll be here for you.” When she didn’t respond, he knew he was getting nowhere. “You want to go through this alone.” Clint’s tone was hollow.

  “I want what’s best for you.”

  “You are what’s best for me. Besides, you don’t have the test results back yet. You could be fine.”

  “I could be. But the threat is never going to go away.”

  Clint bowed his head. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Go home. Live your life. Stop worrying about me.”

  “You’re asking the impossible, Jensen.” She was locking him out and he didn’t know how to stop her.

  “I want you to be happy.”

  “You are my happiness.” He pleaded with her. “How many times do I have to tell you? You think you’re being noble, but you’re putting us both through unnecessary pain.” He turned to take her hands in his. “What can I do? How can I convince you that there’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be than with you – no matter the circumstances?” Jensen’s eyes filled with tears and he immediately felt remorse for the way he was handling it. “It’s okay.” He stood. “I’ll go, but I won’t go far. I just need you to promise me that you’ll call me if you need me. Anytime. Night or day.”

  She nodded. “I will.”

  Clint began to back from the room. “This space I’m giving you doesn’t mean I’m giving up. I can’t. I won’t crowd you, but I have to keep trying. Us being together is the only thing that makes sense to me. I want to be at your side forever. I want to take vows with you that state unequivocally – in sickness and in health.”

  “Till death do us part.”

  “Right.” He nodded. “After our sixty-fifth wedding anniversary.”

  “I wish.” She gave him a sad smile. “Now, go home and take care of our babies. I love you.” She loved him enough to set him free.

  “I love you too.” He said the words, then turned to go. He didn’t know what else to do.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Desperate times call for desperate measures. Clint kept his word; he didn’t bother Jensen. He didn’t call and he didn’t go visit her. Nicky, his co-conspirator, was a different story. Apparently, she enjoyed the young boy’s company and he had the run of her house. Clint was relieved to know there was someone looking after her, even if it was a small boy in a wheelchair. The youngster was sharp as a whip, however, and was fully prepared to call for help if he needed it.

  On Clint’s end of things, he was busy formulating a game strategy to end all game strategies. In his mind, this was the Superbowl. By now, hopefully, she was beginning to miss him. He intended to use that soft spot he knew she had for him to his advantage. In other words, he intended to charm the pants off his woman.

  A few days ago while desperately seeking an answer, he’d remembered what she said about grand gestures. She loved them and she certainly deserved one. After much deliberation, he’d come up with a grand gesture worthy of its own Hallmark movie. When he put his plan into motion, he felt sure he’d get her attention. In fact, he was going to make it damn hard for her to ignore him. One way or the other, he needed to impress upon Jensen how serious he was about her. He wasn’t going anywhere, and he’d do whatever it took to make her understand how much he cared…even if that meant annoying her to such a degree she sought him out just to quieten him down.

  The thought made him smile. Yes, this was an ingenious plan if he did say so himself.

  “Don’t look so forlorn, Rose,” he told the little skunk as he packed supplies into the travel trailer. “I’ll have her home soon. I promise.”

  Once he’d stored everything he needed, Clint climbed up into his brand new truck, pulling his new travel trailer, and took off to set up camp in Jensen’s neighborhood. Fortunately, Nicky’s mother and father had agreed for him to park in their driveway. Having owned an RV in the past, their yard was equipped with all the hookups he’d need. Of course, it was going to cost him. He’d agreed to sign a dozen footballs for auction and to help the local kid’s teams with their fundraising efforts. No problem – he would’ve done those things anyway.

  On the drive over, he checked inside the console. Yes, the ring box was right there and ready. This time when he got on his knees, he’d have something to put on her pretty little finger.

  …At home, Jensen puttered around the house. Waiting for something you feared was more than difficult. Knowing was better than dreading any day. Physically, she felt better than ever. The initial body shock of learning she might be out of remission was fading. Anyone who saw her would think Jensen was the picture of health. She crossed her fingers hoping they might be right.

  Going to the kitchen, she decided to put on a pot of soup for later. As she cut up the vegetables, she recalled working alongside Clint. They’d enjoyed cooking together. His favorite thing to make was chili. Even though the hearty stew tasted better in the winter months, they’d stirred up a pot and ate it on the porch while they watched the stars. The memory made her heart ache, but it also made her smile. She missed that man more than she could say.

  Last night, while lying in her lonely bed, she’d fought a bout of doubt. Was she doing the right thing? Was she protecting him or hurting him more? Was she being kind or just being a martyr? “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

  Once the soup was simmering on the stove, she made her way to the dining table. At Scott’s insistence she was working from home. Jensen wasn’t so sure it was necessary. After all, she felt fine. Her partner didn’t think she should have to deal with patients right now – and maybe he was right. So, the project before her consisted of compiling the data report for the Houston Texans detailing the results of their players’ neurological evaluations. When she came to Clint’s name, she closed the laptop and turned to stare out the window.

  “Gracious.” Someone was backing a travel trailer into the neighbor’s driveway. “I guess Nicky is going camping.”
The idea made her smile. He was such a firecracker. She really didn’t know what she would’ve done without him for the last few days. He’d helped keep her mind off her troubles and off how much she was missing Clint.

  Again, she debated with herself. Was she doing the right thing? More and more she was doubting her decision. She loved him so much and she had no doubt he loved her. Shouldn’t they be together for whatever time she had left? Who knows? Like Clint said, it could be years and years. But as she contemplated the notion, a scene from her mother’s deathbed returned to haunt her. She remembered her mom screaming with pain. Nothing anyone tried gave her any relief. Jensen recalled with horror when Laura Wilder would grasp her husband’s hand and beg him to end her life.

  “No. No.” She didn’t want to think about that, but she couldn’t stop. She knew the degree of pain would depend on where the cancer was located. Her mother’s cancer migrated to her bones and pancreas, which were two of the toughest areas as far as pain was concerned. If she could make sure the doctors would make her comfortable, would knock her out – whatever – that was one thing, but pain management was such a controversial subject. Where was Dr. Kevorkian when you needed him? Oh, that’s right the poor man was dead. “Morbid, much?”

  Pushing up from her seat, she decided to do something to get her mind off depressing thoughts. She wished she could see Rose and the horses. She wished Clint were here to make her smile. Make her laugh.

  All of a sudden, a loud, odd noise assaulted her hearing.

  “Hello, darlin. Nice to see you. It’s….”

  Lost in thought, it took a moment before the fact registered that what she was hearing was an old Conway Twitty tune being sung very off-key. Jensen didn’t need but one guess to name the singer.

  Hurrying to the front, she threw open the door. Sure enough, perched in a lawn chair with his guitar in his lap sat Clint. He was singing – very badly – into a microphone plugged into a portable sound machine. A large extension cord ran all the way across the lawn and into the travel trailer she’d seen arrive earlier. Holy Mother of God.