by Mindy Neff
He blinked. Heard Hannah’s voice, the sweet sound of Ian crying.
Oh, God, they were alive. It wasn’t Becky and Timmy all over again.
His paralysis lifted. He checked the truck, found it steady, and climbed up to peer through the driver’s window. “Sweetheart, don’t move.”
Her smile was a little tremulous. “I already did.”
Sure enough, she was out of her seat belt and sitting on the passenger door, Ian cradled in her lap. She had the hem of her skirt pressed against the boy’s forehead.
With the truck tilted like this, she was mashed in pretty tight, but alive. Alive.
“Get a rope, Trevor. We’ve got to get this door open.”
Adrenaline pumping, he imagined he could rip the steel off its hinges with his bare hands, but he made himself be patient.
Using Trevor’s horse and the rope as a pulley, they were able to pry open the door, giving Wyatt a clear entry to get to Hannah and Ian.
“Why didn’t the air bag deploy?”
“I had it disconnected when I bought the truck. With the baby and all, I just didn’t trust it.”
He nodded and his throat ached. God, he hated this feeling. The pain. The fear. “Be still, okay?”
“Wyatt?” Ian said, his voice sounding small. “C-can you g-get me way up to the sky?”
Oh man. He was going to lose it.
“Sure can, partner.” His voice cracked. He cleared his throat, eased himself into the truck through the opening. It was cramped quarters, but he could maneuver.
He could touch them.
And right now, he desperately needed to touch them.
His palm trembled as it passed over Hannah’s face, the beginning of a bruise swelling on her cheek.
“I hit that poor moose,” Hannah said.
“I know, sweetheart.” It was an elk, but he wasn’t going to quibble. He glanced up at Trevor and the other man nodded. He would get the animal out of sight so Hannah wouldn’t have to see it. “Are you okay? The baby?” His hand shook as it skimmed over her stomach.
“Everything feels okay.”
“Doc Hammond’s on his way. He’ll check and make sure.”
“Right now, we’d just like to get out of here. This is even more embarrassing than you getting the truck stuck.”
The wildlife nearly killed her and she made jokes. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
He focused on Ian.
“Does anything hurt you, sport?” He ran his hands over the boy’s legs, arms, neck and back.
Ian shook his head, dislodging Hannah’s pressure to his head wound. Blood trickled down his cheek. Wyatt’s vision hazed for just an instant, his mind turning inward, to another time, to another bloody scene.
Car doors slammed outside, jerking him back to the present. Hannah and Ian were alive. He had to keep reminding himself of that.
Wyatt looked up, saw both Cheyenne and Chance peer into the car.
“They’re both moving around and say nothing’s hurting,” he reported, surprised that his voice sounded steady and firm. “Ian’s got a cut on his head and Hannah has a bruise on her cheek. Think it’ll be safe for me to hand them up to you?”
“Keep them as still and straight as you can,” Chance said.
Carefully he lifted Ian from Hannah’s arms and passed him up through the truck door opening into Chance and Cheyenne’s arms. He turned back to Hannah who was already struggling to get her feet under her.
“Wait, sweetheart. Let me have a look at you first.”
“I’m fine.”
“Humor me.” As he’d done with Ian, he ran his hands over her body, their faces so close their breaths mingled. Unable to help himself, he drew her to him, just held on for a long heartbreaking moment, buried his face in her lemony hair.
The ache in his throat throbbed, robbed him of speech and pride. His eyes were damp. “You scared me,” he whispered.
“I know,” she said just as softly. “I’m sorry.”
“Ready, Wyatt?” Cheyenne asked.
“Ready. Let me do the work, Hannah,” he said, slipping his arms beneath her. It was awkward, but years of lifting saddles and bales of hay and wrestling cows to the ground gave him the strength to boost her straight up and out of the top of the truck door.
Cheyenne and Trevor were right there to take her from him. As much as he knew he needed the help, he hated to relinquish her, didn’t trust anyone else with her.
Vaulting out behind her, he landed on the ground, took her back from the sheriff.
“I’ve got her now.” He didn’t want to let go. And those were dangerous thoughts.
He sat down on the ground next to where Chance was checking Ian, and kept Hannah cradled in his lap, his hand resting over the baby in her womb.
“This guy’s got a tough noggin,” the doctor said. “But he’ll be fine. A bit sore, I imagine. I’ll check him over again when we get to the house and put a stitch in that cut. No need to go to the hospital.”
Chance turned to Hannah, raised a brow when Wyatt didn’t appear willing to let her go. With a shrug, he examined her while Wyatt held her, shined a light in her eyes, checked pupils, pulse, took out a stethoscope and listened to the baby’s heartbeat.
“Any cramping?”
“No.”
The doctor stood, nodded. “I’ll take them to your place,” he said to Wyatt. “Check them out a bit more, but I think everyone’s fine. And very lucky.”
“I’ll take them,” Wyatt said.
Cheyenne raised a brow. “Uh, somebody’s got to get this plane off my highway. You see anybody else here with a pilot’s license?”
Wyatt swore. For a moment longer, he held Hannah to him, emotions swelling, the power of them almost too much to contain.
He couldn’t do this, he realized. The fear was too strong, the pain too excruciating. He was in danger of his heart shattering. He was in too deep.
He’d fooled himself into believing that they could go on like they were, letting one day turn into the next. He’d convinced himself that if he hid from the words, the feelings, he’d never have to face the devil or pay the price.
But the devil had just had the last laugh.
NEIGHBORS STREAMED IN and out of the house for the rest of the day, each bearing food. They’d have enough to eat for the rest of the month.
Hannah kept repeating that she was fine, but folks wanted to see for themselves. Iris fussed over Hannah’s bruise, cried over Ian’s stitches then simply held Hannah in a fierce hug that had released emotions Hannah had tried her best to keep a lid on. She’d been wishing for her mother, the void feeling so much wider, deeper, fresher. Without words, Iris understood.
The front yard looked like a cattlemen’s convention with all the pickups coming and going. No one stayed long. If they’d been needed, they would have.
And even though Wyatt was giving her a wide berth, which confused her, he was still watchful, frowning every time she so much as lifted a teacup.
She’d managed to get everyone out of the house and was about to enjoy a moment to herself, hoping she wouldn’t continue to see that poor moose every time she closed her eyes, hoping she wouldn’t forever have the echo of squealing tires and the sound of Ian’s scream ringing in her ears, when Cherry Peyton stepped through the back door.
Hannah was surprised despite herself. Cherry wasn’t the socializing, bring-a-pie type.
“Heard you’ve had a rough morning,” Cherry said.
“Rougher for that moose,” Hannah replied, trying to judge the atmosphere, unsure how to proceed with this woman, her closest neighbor. She decided to leave the tone up to Cherry and follow the other woman’s cue.
“I’d heard it was an elk.”
Hannah shrugged. How could she be expected to accurately recognize or distinguish an animal’s breed when it was in the process of becoming a hood ornament? And despite the fact that she wouldn’t have known the difference in any case, she refused to feel inferior.
Cherr
y sighed, sat at the kitchen table. “How are you?”
“Shook up, but fine.”
Cherry glanced down at Hannah’s stomach. “Wendell and I weren’t able to have children. I wanted them terribly, but it wasn’t meant to be.”
“I’m sorry.”
Cherry nodded. “I was a young woman when Wendell died—only thirty-two. I’m forty now, and feeling older by the day. It’s getting harder and harder for me to hang on, to the ranch, and…to get past the loneliness. And even though I’m older than Wyatt is, I’ve held a flame in my heart that something could work out between us—two grieving people who could heal one another’s heart. I resented you when you came here.”
“I know,” Hannah said softly, honestly. Here was common ground between the two of them, even if it was competition.
“I think I’m past that now, and I’d like to start over as neighbors, if you’re interested.”
“I’m interested.”
“You’ve a generous heart, Hannah Richmond. And you’ve accomplished what I couldn’t. I guess Ozzie and the gang knew what they were doing when they manipulated you into Wyatt’s life.”
“I don’t know that he’s healed, Cherry. He holds so much of himself back.”
“That he does.” She stood and edged toward the door. “But he’s a hell of a man. I’m pulling for you, Hannah.”
“Uh, Cherry? About that bull—”
“I’m going to sell him to Wyatt.”
“Why don’t you just sell him half? Be partners?”
Cherry stopped, frowned. Clearly, the idea hadn’t occurred to her.
“I don’t know a thing about this sort of transaction or the bull or anything, but if he’s so studly, it seems to me he’d have enough—” she waved her hand, unable to come up with the word “—uh, stamina to father two herds. You need the capital to give your ranch a boost—if you truly want to hold on to it.”
Cherry nodded. “I do.”
“And Wyatt said his ancestors had parlayed a single bull and a few heifers into a dynasty,” Hannah continued. “I don’t know why he can’t be a little patient, start out on a smaller scale if need be. That way you both win.”
She ducked her head, feeling silly with her long speech. Especially since she didn’t know squat about the subject.
“You’re absolutely right. I’m an all-or-nothing kind of person. I hadn’t thought of sharing.”
“Wyatt’s pretty much all-or-nothing, too.” He’d given his all once and claimed he had nothing more to give now. Relationship wise, that was. As much as she wanted it to be otherwise, those were Wyatt’s feelings. She couldn’t wave a wand and change him. “For the bull, I think he’ll compromise.”
WYATT SAT by Ian’s bedside. For three days now, he’d avoided the boy, only seeking him out when he knew Ian was asleep or close to it.
“Wyatt?” Ian whispered.
“I’m right here, buddy.”
“Nikki said you could be my daddy, cuz Stony’s not her really and truly daddy, but she gets to keep him for her daddy.” His words were slurred, on the verge of sleep. “Could I keep you?”
Wyatt lifted Ian’s small hand, rested his forehead against it. The boy had fallen asleep before he could even answer.
“Oh, Ian, buddy. I don’t want to lose you.”
Hannah flattened herself against the wall, not wanting Wyatt to see her there. At the sound of Wyatt’s raw words, she eased away from Ian’s doorway and went to the room next door.
She felt the horrible ache in the back of her throat, the sensation of her nose swelling, running, eyes stinging. She buried her face in the pillow to stop the flow of hot tears drenching her face.
Wyatt had pulled back after the accident, had been avoiding them. When she’d gone back to sleeping in the guest room next to Ian’s, he’d looked sad, but he hadn’t said a word.
She didn’t understand his distance. She wanted to set aside her pride and beg.
Oh, God, it was exactly what she said she wouldn’t do. Could she compromise her vow that this time she wouldn’t settle for less than a full measure of love?
She loved Wyatt…
And Wyatt loved her kid.
With Ian, he let down his guard. He showed his emotions. With her, he wouldn’t.
Could she live like that? She gripped the charm necklace that lay cool and crushing against her chest.
She knew the answer. As much as she loved him, he’d yet to give her the main thing she needed. The words. Love. For her. For who she was, not who anybody expected her to be, or who she might become.
She’d almost forgotten the lesson she’d learned through Allan. Almost believed she could compromise, love enough for both of them…wait for him.
But waiting on love was a thing of the past.
It was time to leave. She would take Iris up on her offer.
HER THROAT WAS RAW, her eyes swollen the next morning as she packed hers and Ian’s suitcases. Fat tears dripped down Ian’s face as he hugged the puppies.
“No, mom,” he whispered. “I don’t want to go.”
She knelt by his bed, cupped his sweet cheeks in her palms. “I know, honey.” She wouldn’t cry again, swore there were no tears left. “You have to be strong for Mama now.”
He didn’t understand. But like the little man he was, he sensed his mother’s fragility. The need to be good. “’Kay.”
She rose with his hand in hers, and picked up her suitcase.
Wyatt stood in the bedroom doorway, hands fisted at his side. The sight of him jolted her.
“You’re leaving, then?”
She nodded. Ask me to stay.
He was stoic, his eyes haunted. He took the suitcase from her, held it between them for a long moment.
She thought he would say something. He didn’t.
She followed him down the stairs. Skeeter had her rental trailer hooked to one of Wyatt’s trucks. She’d asked him to do it for her.
She watched as Wyatt bent down to Ian, as her son wrapped his little arms around Wyatt’s neck and held on, tears rolling down his cheeks.
“Bye,” Ian whispered, so solemn it nearly broke her heart.
Wyatt tipped his head, pulled his hat down lower on his brow as Ian climbed up into the truck.
Hannah stood next to him. She’d told herself she wouldn’t burden him with the words. To hell with it.
“I love you, you know.”
The agony that flashed in his eyes was horrible to witness. He was a man on the edge, but it was he who would have to step off the cliff, to take a chance.
She cupped his cheek, wanting to say more, knowing she couldn’t. In the end, she simply pressed a soft kiss to his lips and got in the truck. Her eyes were dry until she started the engine.
Wyatt ached, felt like his insides were ripping apart. He longed to reach out to her, to stop her. His heart pounded, yet his feet wouldn’t move. His voice wouldn’t work.
I love you, you know.
Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God. The violent refrain echoed in his brain. A prayer. A plea.
The ranch hands were lined up at the fence—their expressions somber and accusing. They took off their hats as Hannah slowly drove by.
Wyatt’s vision blurred. Ridiculous.
Skeeter made a disgusted sound. “You gonna just let her get away? She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”
He still didn’t speak. Something sparkled in the sun.
He looked closer.
Hanging on the porch rail was the crystal heart Hannah had always worn—she’d never been without it. It was the necklace her Aunt Shirley had given her. To Hannah that necklace represented family…and love.
And she’d left her heart right here on his doorstep.
Oh, God. Wyatt realized that they were a family. He’d convinced himself that love hurt.
He now realized that it hurt much worse not to love.
She’d killed a snake for him—faced her worse fear. So, why couldn’t he do the same for
her? Let go of the fear?
“No, by God, I’m not going to let her get away.”
“Hot damn!” Skeeter whooped.
Tornado was ground-tied a few feet away. Wyatt vaulted onto the horse and tore off after her.
It didn’t take much to catch her. She’d been traveling at a snail’s pace and she’d already stopped.
Wyatt’s heart tumbled when he saw Ian bouncing in his seat, his tiny white teeth gleaming, his arm waving.
The cowboys lined along the fence started cheering.
Hannah heard the whooping and carrying on. She sniffed, tried to clear the tears that blinded, that had forced her to stop. “What in the world?”
Stunned, she looked in the rearview mirror, saw the dust. Saw Wyatt racing on his horse after her.
Her heart somersaulted in her chest. She put the truck in park, opened the door and got out.
With her hand shading her eyes, she waited, felt the butterfly wings of elation and fragile hope flutter in her stomach.
Wyatt reined in beside her, leaped off his horse.
His throat was dry and his heart was racing. “I love you, too.” They were the hardest words he’d said in over four years.
He snatched her to him, lifted her right up off the ground, pressed his lips to hers, and kissed her until he couldn’t breathe.
“I love you.” Easier this time. “Don’t go. You came here looking for a family. Be my family, Hannah. Please. You and Ian and our baby girl.”
“Oh, Wyatt.”
“I’ve got to take a chance.”
“There still aren’t any guarantees.”
“I don’t need them.” And he found that the words were true. He’d almost lost her. “It doesn’t matter. I know you love me. I’ve known it all along, but I was too damn scared of losing, of hurting like that again. But if I only have one day with you or a hundred years, it doesn’t matter. I’ll cherish every second of each day.”
Life was too short. She touched the deepest, most tender corner of his heart. And the feeling kept growing, spreading to encompass all of him.
“You make me whole, Hannah.” His voice was deep and soft and raw with emotion. “I love you. And I love your kids—our kids,” he corrected. “Ian and this baby girl.”
When he put his hand over her stomach, Hannah’s heart flooded with joy.