Wildfire

by Billie Green

  "Johnny was—"

  "I don't want to hear about Johnny," he said, the words sharp.

  "Well, that's too bad. You're going to hear about him. You see, I used to think I wanted to love someone the way I loved Johnny, but I was wrong. That isn't what I want at all. I want more. Much more."

  "So why are you telling me this?" He sounded angry. And desperate to get away from her. "If you want more than Johnny Good-as-gold, you'd better look up at the big house."

  "Loving Johnny was so easy," she said, her voice soft with remembered love. "In fact, I almost made a conscious decision to love him." She raised her eyes to his. "With you, the decision was taken out of my hands. I couldn't not love you. My love for Johnny was a carefree first love. My love for you hits deeper, it makes me feel more than I ever thought possible."

  She moved a step closer. "Johnny added something wonderful to my life. But you . .. Tanner, you are my life."

  His blazing eyes moved restlessly across her face. "You don't know what you're saying," he said in ragged whisper.

  "I do. I do." She tightened her lips to steady them. "I know what forever means, Tanner. That was one of the requirements, remember? A woman who knows what forever means. Well, I know. Forever is you."

  When he simply stood there staring at her, helpless rage rose inside her, and she hit him in the chest with a tightly clenched fist. "You bastard. How many times do I have to come to you on my knees? How many times do I have to swallow my pride . . . and beg you . . . and beg you to . . ."

  "Don't." His face twisted as he reached out and pulled her into his arms. "Sweet heaven, Rae, don't cry like that. Don't, please. I'm sorry .. . I'm so sorry. I didn't—"

  He broke off and framed her face with his hands. "You better mean this, Rae. No, listen to me. You better know what you're doing, because once I claim you, once I really make you mine, I won't ever be able to let you go. Not ever."

  He was shaking all over, his fingers digging into her back. "I've spent every minute of the last few weeks telling myself not to fall for that hope-against-all-hope stuff again. Not this time, not when it was about you, not when it was more important than anything in my life."

  "You stupid—" She broke off and shook her head. "Didn't you ever consider the possibility that I might feel the same way?"

  His chin moved across the top of her head in short, rough strokes. "A couple of times I almost let myself wonder, but I stopped it before it got started." She couldn't see his face, but she could hear the ragged edges of leftover pain in his voice. "When I saw your car, I tried to tell myself you brought those out here because you're so damned nice. They were a gift to get me started on my dream."

  He gave a choked laugh. "But I found out hope doesn't die that easy, not even in an outlaw."

  Together they turned and looked at her car. Strapped to the top were two wooden rocking chairs.

  Rae would be the woman, made special by his love, who sat beside him as they watched their children play.