Morgan's Marriage

by Lindsay McKenna

  “Are you all right?” he demanded, breathing raggedly. Pushing several strands of muddied hair off her face, he searched her pale features. “Laura?”

  “Y-yes, I’m okay….” On one level, she was. On many others, she wasn’t. Weakly, she raised her hand and rubbed the back of her head. “I—I must have fallen—”

  “You fell, all right,” Morgan rasped, glancing down the dangerous trail. He saw where she’d slipped on the slick red clay. Devoting all his attention to her, he said unsteadily, “My God, you could have been killed, Laura.”

  She hung her head as hot tears pressed at her closed eyelids. The terror in Morgan’s voice ripped through her. No longer did she have the strength to stop anything from wounding her further.

  “Any broken bones?” he asked hoarsely, running his hands gently over her extremities. “Anything pulled?”

  Laura sat in the harbor of his embrace, dazed and unable to think as quickly as he did. But the mere touch of Morgan’s hands helped soothe her chaotic state. Bitterly, she realized she couldn’t even run away successfully. She vaguely remembered a branch sticking out on the steep deer trail. She’d seen it, but had disregarded it and stepped on it. The stick had rolled and so had she. The last thing she remembered was having her feet fly out from beneath her and landing hard on her back.

  Opening her eyes, Laura laughed a little hysterically. “The only thing broken in me is my mind….”

  Worriedly, Morgan assessed her eyes, which appeared dark and lifeless. “Hold on,” he growled, then picked her up as if she weighed nothing. Steadying himself on the narrow path, he got his bearings, holding her tightly against him. He heard her gasp, her arms going around his neck, but within moments, she relaxed against him, trusting him totally. Well, this time, Morgan decided, he wasn’t going to let her down. Gingerly, he picked his way back down the path to the edge of the pool.

  “Hang on, you’re going for a ride,” he warned huskily. She clung to him like a frightened child now, her face buried against his neck. Carefully, he moved through the water, bringing her safely to the other side. It would take another forty minutes to reach the cabin, and he knew his arms would ache like hell itself from carrying Laura that distance, but he sensed she had given up and wouldn’t have the strength to walk on her own.

  He struck out on the trail that led back to the cabin. “Listen to me,” he said roughly near her ear, “listen to what I have to say, Laura.” His hand tightened around her thin form. “I remember. I remember us.” His voice was unsteady with feelings. “After I read your letter, I thought you might have gone back to the pool where we’d picnicked. As I ran up to the pool and saw you, everything started coming back about us, Laura. Do you hear me? I remember how we met, what happened. Dammit, I remember my love for you!”

  Blinking through her tears, Laura lifted her face and looked up at Morgan. Each step he took jarred her, increasing the pain in her head. But miraculously, with his shocking words, the pain left momentarily as she homed in on his raggedly given admission. “Y-you remember?” she asked, afraid to believe what she’d heard. He cut a glance at her, his stride shortening.

  “Yes, I remember. Everything, Laura.” The corners of his mouth turned downward and his voice roughened. “All I want is for you to stay with me. Don’t try to run off again. Do you hear me? All these months you’ve had to be strong for everyone else. Well, that’s changed now. I’m going to be strong for you. Do you understand what I’m saying? You need some care and support. Dammit, I didn’t mean to take from you the way I did. I didn’t realize…honest to God, I didn’t. But it won’t happen again, and that’s a promise, Laura. Looking back over the past seven years, I can see that I’ve always taken from you and depended on you—without giving you back half of what I got.” His mouth compressed. “Well, all that’s changing. Right now.”

  Laura sighed and rested her brow wearily against his jaw. Was she dreaming? Hallucinating? She knew she’d crossed the line somewhere in that unmarked territory between what was real and what wasn’t. What could she trust? Tears dribbled down her cheeks, she tasted the salt of them as they followed the outline of her lips.

  “Y-you read the letter I left?” she asked, her voice scratchy. Laura felt completely unable to protect herself from whatever Morgan might think about that letter. By rights, he should be angry.

  “I read it,” he said, his eyes narrowing as he paid strict attention to where he was placing his feet along the trail. Sunlight cascaded down among the branches of the tall pines, and shadows and light danced across Laura as Morgan carried her rapidly toward their cabin. “I read it,” he repeated harshly, “and you know what? I don’t care if you can’t have any more children. We already have two beautiful children. We should count our blessings for what we have, Laura.” He risked a glance down at her and for the first time saw a glimmer of hope in her dark blue eyes.

  Morgan could tell Laura was waiting for his anger, but he felt none toward her. “I could kill Garcia with my bare hands,” he rasped. “If I ever get the chance, he’s a dead man. I’m so damned sorry about what happened to you, Laura.” His voice broke. “So damned sorry.”

  Laura tightened her hold around his neck and powerful shoulders. “I was so afraid, Morgan…so afraid to tell you….”

  “I wish you had told me,” he said thickly. “But I know why you didn’t, too, and it doesn’t matter anymore, Laura.” He cast another quick glance down at her. “What matters is you. That’s all. Everything else in our lives can go to hell.” His arms tightened briefly around her, and he watched more of the tension dissolve from her eyes. How he loved her! The powerful, unfolding feelings in his chest were still hitting him in tidal wave proportions as nuances of old memories kept returning, one on top of another. But sorting through all of them was of minor importance in comparison to Laura and her mental and emotional condition. All he wanted in the world in that moment was to get her back to the cabin, call Dr. Parsons and get Laura some help.

  “Well?” Morgan demanded in a low tone after Dr. Parsons quietly shut the door to the bedroom, where Laura was resting.

  Ann smiled gently and guided Morgan to the living room couch, where she sat down with him. Mike Houston had brought her to the cabin, and he stood worriedly in the kitchen doorway, a cup of coffee in hand.

  “I gave her a tranquilizer, Morgan. She’s already asleep. She’s exhausted from everything that’s happened.”

  “What did happen?”

  Ann picked up the note. “Basically, in layperson’s terms, she gave up. I’m sorry, I didn’t know she hadn’t told you about her physical complications from the rapes. I thought you knew.”

  He shook his head and folded his hands between his thighs. “She said she was afraid to tell me.”

  “I can understand why,” Ann murmured as she set the note aside. “But the worst is out in the open now. No more skeletons remain in either of your closets, so to speak. You’re finally sharing a level playing field. You remember your past with Laura, your marriage and your children, so that’s a very healthy start toward healing all that’s happened to both of you.”

  Worriedly, Morgan rasped, “What about Laura, though? I know she hates to take any kind of drugs. I hate to see her on antidepressants or tranquilizers—even if she’ll take them.”

  Reaching out, Ann patted his shoulder. “It’s only temporary, Morgan. Right now, you’re Laura’s antidepressant.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When she wakes up, which probably won’t be for a good eight hours, let her talk. You just sit and listen. When she needs reassurance, give it to her. But keep in mind that she felt abandoned, out there all alone with this big, bad world looming over her, slowly crushing the life out of her. Try to be more aware of when you’re placing demands on her, and try not to. She’s given too much to too many people for too long. It’s time she came first, not second or last.”

  “That was my gut feeling about all this,” he admitted harshly, angry all over aga
in at his role in putting Laura in such a position in the first place. “Damn,” he growled, running his fingers distractedly through his hair, “I’m one selfish son of a bitch.”

  Laughing gently, Ann got up. “A healthy response, Morgan. And yes, you’ve been pretty demanding on Laura over the years. She always came second to Perseus, too.”

  His eyes narrowed on the physician. “You’re right,” he said finally.

  Ann’s smile increased as she put her medical items back into her black leather bag. “I’ve never accused you of being slow, Morgan. I think you’ve got the big picture now. You know what needs to be done to help Laura through this, so she can put her life back together. Mike’s going to take me back to the ranch, but I’ll leave some sleeping pills and a few tranquilizers, in case Laura needs them. She probably won’t touch them, but they’re here, just in case.”

  Mike came over and picked up Ann’s bag for her.

  “I prescribe R and R for both of you in the next week,” Ann added. “If you or Laura want me to come back out, call. Otherwise, I’m keeping a low profile.”

  Morgan nodded. “Thanks, Ann—for everything.” And he meant that—she’d been a steady light in their darkness. “You’re one hell of a flight surgeon. Did I ever tell you that?” He saw Ann’s face flush and pleasure come to her eyes as Mike opened the door for her.

  “No, but it’s nice to hear it—finally. We’ll see you later….”

  Morgan sat in the silence of the cabin after Ann and Mike had left. Harshly, he rubbed his face. He’d come so close to losing the one thing he loved most in the world. Getting up, stiff from the extreme exercise of the morning, he went into the kitchen to pour himself some coffee. Memories and emotions were continuing to roll over him, more than ever now that his focus wasn’t needed elsewhere.

  How long he sat at the kitchen table, the cup of coffee growing cold between his hands, Morgan didn’t know. Most of the emotions he experienced during those hours were good ones. Rich ones filled with happiness, hope and laughter. They’d shared some bad times, too—especially when Laura had nearly died in childbirth. Morgan felt a bitter taste in his mouth. Damn, he’d nearly lost her again—in a different way.

  A lot had to change, he realized. And he had to be the one to do it—for Laura, for himself and for their family. First, though, he had to reestablish that broken connection with Laura. She had to believe he remembered and fully felt his love for her. Would she? Morgan was no longer sure of anything. He could only wait and see.

  When Laura awoke, it was dark outside. The cabin was warm, and she noticed the door to the bedroom was open, the heat from the earth stove filtering into the room. Oddly, she felt not only warm, but safe and even happy. Happy? As she rubbed her face and drowsily sat up to push the covers away, she remembered what had happened, and her small flicker of happiness died. Fear replaced it—and anxiety. Where was Morgan? Laura didn’t hear anything except the soft music of the Prescott FM station she loved. The music helped soothe her anxiety to a degree as she forced herself to get up.

  Pulling on her chenille robe, she slowly made her way into the living room. Morgan was sitting on the couch near the stove, one of the family photo albums spread open across his lap. The light from the nearby floor lamp deepened and emphasized the ruggedness of his features. How much she loved him! Her heart pounded with the knowledge as she stood absorbing his strong, powerful presence back into her life.

  He must have sensed she was up because suddenly his chin lifted and his gray eyes narrowed on her. Laura managed a broken smile. Almost instantly, he was on his feet, striding toward her, an anxious look replacing the intent concentration of moments before. Without speaking, he gripped her by her upper arms and assessed her.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked huskily after a few moments’ study.

  “A little out of sorts,” Laura whispered, allowing her hands to rest on his arms. “Is it true, Morgan? Or did I make it up or dream it?”

  “What?” Morgan saw the fragility in her eyes and heard it in her low, husky voice.

  “That you remember…us? The children?”

  He smiled a little. “Yeah, everything came back this morning when I was looking for you, Little Swan.”

  Laura swayed. Closing her eyes, she felt his grip tighten on her arms. “Little Swan” was Morgan’s special endearment for her. Tears threatened to choke her. “Oh,” she whispered unsteadily, smiling up at him, “you do remember. You really do….”

  Whispering her name, Morgan brought Laura into his arms and held her gently against him, kissing her mussed hair. “I really do,” he assured her gruffly. “You’re my Little Swan with the long, beautiful neck and the grace of a ballerina.” He buried his face in her hair. “God,” he rasped, “I love you so much, Laura. So much it hurts.” His embrace tightened, and he felt her tremble violently, once, at his admission. He managed a choked laugh. “In fact, I’m afraid you’re going to get sick and tired of me telling you how much I love you.”

  “N-no,” Laura quavered, sliding her arms around his waist, “I’ll never get enough of you telling me that, Morgan. Not ever…”

  Gently, he placed his hand against the clean line of her jaw and guided her lips to his. It was so natural, so easy between them, to cover her lips and feel the softness that had always been her—to feel her tentative response to his mouth taking hers. But Morgan was aware of her fragile state more than ever. Even the way she returned his kiss was hesitant. Because of the rape? Because she thought he was Garcia and was unable to separate them? Right now, it didn’t matter to Morgan. All Laura had to understand was that he was back. He was home, finally—for her and their children.

  Easing his mouth from her lips, he smiled deeply into her lustrous eyes. “I love you,” he said thickly. “And no matter what’s happened, Laura, I’ll always love you.” He threaded his fingers through her tangled blond hair. “That’s never going to change, Little Swan, so no matter what you’re feeling, or what hell we still have to walk through together, never let go of that fact. All right?”

  Laura nodded, her hands resting against his massive chest. “All right.”

  “Do you believe me?”

  She smiled a little. “I believe you, Morgan.”

  “Good,” he said, satisfied. “Then let’s get you a bath. From here on out, you’re number one in this marriage, not number two. That’s changing as of this moment.”

  Laura had no idea what Morgan was talking about, but she found out soon enough. Not only did he draw her a tub of hot water with her favorite orange crystals in it, he washed her hair for her. When they had first been married, Morgan had done that for her from time to time, and Laura had loved it. She had luxuriated in his care of her—and now she got to do so again. Completely surprised by the change in him, she reeled a little in shock from it all. But Morgan pressed on, making her a late dinner of T-bone steak, mashed potatoes and salad. Though she didn’t feel very hungry, he sat with her, cajoling each bite of food into her mouth and not allowing her to leave the table until at least half of it had been consumed.

  Later, as she lay on the huge sheepskin rug, her back to the warmth of the stove and only the flickering of the flames lighting the cabin, Laura felt hope trickling back into her heart. Morgan had provided a pillow for her head, and it felt good just to lie on the rug and be warm and safe—and loved. He was washing the dishes, and the pleasant sounds emanating from the kitchen lulled her into a light sleep.

  She felt more than heard him coming into the living room. Sleepily, she opened her eyes and saw him sit down, his long legs spread out parallel to her, a piece of chocolate cake with two scoops of vanilla ice cream in hand. A smile played across her lips as she eased into a sitting position.

  “There’s no secret to you,” she teased huskily, pushing her hair away from her face and crossing her legs.

  “Any secrets I ever carried, you know about,” Morgan said seriously. He dipped the spoon into the ice cream. “Here, have some.”
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  Laura was about to protest, but seeing the glint in his dark eyes she thought better of it. Instead she opened her mouth and allowed Morgan to slide the spoon between her lips. The ice cream was sweet and soothing.

  “Mmm, that’s good,” she admitted gratefully.

  He smiled a little. “You need to gain back that twenty pounds you’ve lost, Laura. You look too much like a prisoner of war.”

  Moving slowly, Laura propped herself next to him, her back against the couch, her shoulder and hip touching his. The silence was soft and without incrimination as Morgan shared his cake and ice cream with her—a sensual, delicious and unexpected experience for Laura. Sighing softly afterward, she was contented and let Morgan place his arm around her and draw her against him.

  “This is heaven,” she whispered, sliding her arm around him in return.

  “It doesn’t get better than this,” he agreed thickly, placing a kiss on her hair.

  With a shake of her head, Laura said hesitantly, “I feel as if we’re starting all over again, Morgan.”

  Taking her hand and placing it against his thigh, he gently caressed her skin. “In a way we are, Little Swan.”

  “I’m so scared….”

  “So am I.” Morgan studied her in the warming silence. “So we’ll be scared together, okay?” He was relieved to see the hope burning in her eyes once more. One thing about Laura: she might be strong, and God knew she was a warrior of the first order when it came to fighting for her family, but when she crashed, it was complete. He’d seen her surrender once before, when she’d nearly died after Jason was born. With his help and care, a miracle had taken place within her: she’d rallied, flourishing remarkably well in a short time.

  He didn’t really expect her to rally so quickly this time, but already he was seeing signs of her responding to him—just as before. Grateful beyond words, Morgan cupped her face and held her tear-filled gaze. “We have a lot to work through, sweetheart. I know the rapes stand between us, but with therapy for both of us, and working together, we’ll one day make all of that a part of our past, too. I’ve talked to Ann about what rape does to a woman, and she made me see clearly how it affects not only you, but me.”