“Holy shit.”
John swerved to the side of the road and slammed on the breaks. An enormous weeping willow blocked the entire roadway.
“I’m gonna check it out.” Pete jumped out of the truck and glanced around. The headlights lit up the tree, confirming his assessment. There’s no getting past this thing. “Fuck!” Pete shouted.
Stan stepped up beside him. “We’ll never get around it. John called reinforcements. They should—”
Pete held up his hand. “Shh…I hear something.” He hurried over to the edge of the road. The loud, shrilling hum grew louder. Down the embankment, he saw the faint glow of taillights and they belonged to a classic Pontiac Firebird.
“Jesus Christ, Cara!” Pete roared. “Call an ambulance!”
Pete bolted down the hill, ignoring the sharp pain shooting up his leg. His concern was for her alone as he slid down the last six feet. Mud caked every inch of his legs.
He caught himself on the rear bumper. Metal twisted around a thick oak stump, peeking out above what was left of her front end. The car’s headlights continued to flicker as the horn screamed. Smoke billowed out of the vehicle’s remains, which now sat at an awkward angle, tires half buried in thick mud.
With the moon locked behind thick storm clouds, he had run down into a ravine shrouded in darkness. Using a trace of light from the flickering rear taillights and the car’s side panels as a guide, he pulled himself toward the passenger door. Terror engulfed him when he reached the driver’s door and found Cara slumped over the steering wheel. He yanked the handle, but it didn’t budge.
He banged his fist on the window. “Cara, come on, baby. Cara, wake up.”
He waited a second. She didn’t move. He pulled at the handle again, wedging his foot between the wheel well to give him better advantage. Pain shot along his lower back. He ignored it, his adrenaline a welcomed aid. Bent up from the impact, the frame must have fused her door shut.
Sounds of rushing water grew louder. Above them, lightning lit the sky, reflecting off the cresting rapids no more than a few feet away, and Pete knew…time was running out.
John appeared beside him. “EMT’s are on their way.”
“We gotta get her out of there, the water’s rising. We got ten minutes, maybe fifteen, before the river pulls her out into the rapids.”
Pete ran around John toward her passenger door. Out of the corner of his eye, Pete spotted Stan with an emergency pack tucked under his arm. Pete rushed past Stan to the other side and yanked the lever. Steel scraped steel. He managed to get her door to open a few inches.
“Get the fuck over here and help me.”
Stan and John hurried to Pete’s side. With their combined strength they were able to give Pete enough room to squeeze through. Pete crawled over the seat. He felt for a pulse by sliding two fingers against the side of her throat. Thank God, her pulse was weak, but there. He pulled his hand away, staring at her blood coating his fingers. His lungs locked tight. His body started to tremble. Please, not now. Cara’s life depends on you to stay alert and keep your shit together.
“What’s going on in there, Pete? We got a hell of a situation brewing out here.” John’s voice broke through the clouds forming in Pete’s mind.
Pete shook his head. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Tilting her head, he noticed a three-inch gash on her forehead. He ripped a piece from his tee shirt, wrapping it around her wound. Bruising formed on the right side of her face. He looked through the windshield. The river had risen another few inches over the bank and now crashed against the front bumper. He glanced back at her.
“Okay, baby, this might hurt, but we have to get you out of here.” He reached beneath her arms and pulled. She moved a few inches before she wouldn’t budge. “Her foot is stuck,” he yelled out to John and Stan. “I need a crowbar or something.”
Cara moaned in his arms. “Pete.” Her voice sounded low and weak.
“I’m here, baby.” He kissed the top of her head.
“I’m so tired.” She closed her eyes.
“Hold on,” he whispered. “Hold on, baby.” She was shivering in his arms. “Stan, I need your jacket, she’s like ice.”
“Here.” He offered his coat without hesitation. Pete draped it over her chest. “How are you doing in there, sunshine?” Stan asked Cara.
“You rat,” she accused.
Stan gave an anxious chuckle. “Won’t apologize for this one.”
John peeked in. “I got a tire iron, Pete. Found a blanket too. We can use it as a stretcher to help us carry her up the hill.”
Pete took the tool. “Good idea. Okay, baby, I’m gonna squeeze my way down there, and slip this under the bent steel locking your foot. John, Stan, when I push up, you two pull her out.” He wedged himself between her and the steering column and pushed up. Metal creaked. The car jerked forward. “What the hell is happening out there?” Pete shouted.
“The stump is giving way,” John screamed.
Stan hollered over the piercing horn, “The front of the car is sinking further in the mud, pushing the roots right out of the ground. Get her out, Pete! Do it now!”
Pete used all his weight this time. “I can’t hold this much longer. Drag her out.’
“I got her!” John shouted. “I got her.”
John yanked her out. Stan grabbed her other side and together they dragged her away from the wreck.
Pete wiggled his way out in time to see water crash over the roof. “Holy shit.” He jumped back, returning his focus to Cara. “Get the damn blanket around her. She’s freezing.”
John and Stan laid her in the blanket. Grabbing each side, they lifted her and started to carry her up the muddy hill. A loud crack echoed in the night. Pete spun in time to watch the car slip into the rapids, swallowed by the black waters. He closed his eyes a second, taking in the reality of how close he came to losing her, before rushing back to Cara’s side.
They struggled against the slippery, mucky incline, reaching the top. In the distance, red and blue lights flashed. Sirens screeched, drowning out the sound of pounding rain. They rested her on the ground.
“Help’s coming, baby.” Pete pulled both sides of the blanket around her.
John lifted his jacket over them as a shield to block the downpour. Blood plastered her hair to her scalp and stained her shirt. Bruises darkened her pale skin while black rings encircled her beautiful sky-blue eyes. To assure himself that she was safe, Pete caressed the side of her cold cheek.
“Don’t leave me,” she muttered.
“Never, baby. Never again. They’d have to kill me to keep me away from you.”
The paramedics were at her side in seconds. “Nice field dressing,” the EMT said. He glanced at Pete. “Your handiwork?”
Pete nodded, his eyes assessing everything they did to her.
“You Army?” asked the EMT. “This reminds me of my days in the Reserves.”
Pete frowned at him.
“Marines?”
The guy might be chatty, but his focus never strayed from his patient.
“Yeah.” Why isn’t she moving? She looks so pale. “How’s she doing?”
“Your lady?”
“Yeah.” Come on, Cara, you gotta get through this for me. I can’t live without you. I won’t.
“Pretty girl.” Pete didn’t miss how he didn’t answer his question about her condition. The chatty EMT glanced at his partner. “We lift on three. One. Two. Three.” They pulled her up on the gurney.
“Pete!” Cara suddenly called out, her hands searching for him.
He closed his fingers around hers. “Right here, baby.” He ran along with them to the ambulance, holding onto her the entire time.
John followed. “Stan and I will be right behind you guys.”
Pete gave him a nod and followed Cara.
Chapter 15
Cara awoke to find Pete sleeping in the chair beside her hospital bed. His big feet jutted out in front of him, his head thrown
back, mouth wide open, and a drop of drool hanging on the edge of his lip. His huge frame filled the entire seat.
God, he’s adorable.
A dull ache hovered around her temples. She lifted a finger to her head and touched the thick gauze wrapped around her forehead. Nurses in scrubs shuffled past her room without a glance, while an empty gurney with a squeaky wheel followed them down the hall. Cara flashed a quick glance at the bag hanging above to her head, filled with clear liquid. She didn’t dare peek at the needle in her arm. One glimpse and she would vomit all over herself. The thought of a long, thin steel shard puncturing her vein made her cringe. Instead, she eyed the balloons and bouquets decorating her room. A large vase of sunflowers sat next to her, the card tied to the pot read, Sunflowers for my sunshine. She smiled, delighted Stan remembered her love of sunflowers.
A loud snore shifted her attention back to Pete. She cleared her throat and bit back a smile when his eyes popped open. She shook her head. The man slept lighter than any cat in existence.
He jumped from the chair, squeezing his toned butt in the tiny spot beside her. “Cara,” he whispered. “You scared the shit out me.”
She didn’t miss the dark circles beneath his eyes or utter exhaustion weighing down his expression.
“My head is killing me.”
“You took a bad hit to your skull, but you’ll be okay. You’ve been out for two days.”
With a grimace and Pete’s help, she pulled up into a sitting position. She examined the cast that started at her knee and ran down the rest of her leg.
“Compound fracture.”
She winced. “How’s my car?”
“Gone,” he admitted. “Pop’s already on the hunt for another relic for you. He’s got some leads, but I—”
“Why are you here, Pete? Back at John’s you made it clear how you felt, or didn’t feel, for that matter.” She turned away, afraid to catch another flash of rejection in his gaze.
He shook his head with a chuckle. “You know, I’ll run through a desert dodging bullets without flinching, but I can’t tell the most beautiful woman in the world I love her.”
She spun. “You love me?”
“Baby, I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.” He cupped her face, caressing her cheek with his thumb. “I was just too stubborn to admit it. I’ve been a damn fool, Cara.”
“Pete, you don’t have to…”
“I talked to John. He knows how I feel now and Pop, well, he wasn’t shocked when I told him.”
“You told John and my dad?”
“Yeah, I wanted everything out on the table, no more hiding.”
Silence fell between them.
“Cara, I never felt more helpless than when I found you trapped in that wreck. I thought I lost you. I thought…” Tears flooded his eyes.
She wiped the wet trail streaming down his cheek. “I’m fine. A little banged up, but fine.”
“I thought watching my men die was my worst nightmare, but seeing you with blood all over your pale face ripped my soul from my chest. You were there because of me, because I hurt you again. I was too much of a coward to stand up to John, too afraid to admit to myself how essential you are to my life. I’m not afraid anymore. I love you, baby. I love you so damn much.” He lowered his head to her lap. She stroked his hair while he wept.
After several minutes, he lifted his head. His red, puffy gaze locked with hers. “Marry me, Cara.”
Cara wanted nothing more than to wake beside Pete for the rest of her life, but not out of fear or vulnerability, and not when Pete’s pain remained so raw.
“No.”
His face fell. “What?”
“I said no.”
“You know I’m sorry. What do I have to do, baby? Whatever it is, I’ll do it.”
Cara closed her eyes. She knew what she wanted, but feared her demands would drive him away again. Regardless, she needed to be honest with her herself and Pete, even if the truth destroyed whatever future they may have. Settling for less than she deserved was no longer an option.
“No more drinking, for one.” Pete dropped his head, then he nodded. “I can’t sit back and watch you waste away with a bottle locked in your hand every day for the rest of our lives. Sorry, but stinking like a brewery isn’t an attractive trait for me.”
“Okay, no more drinking, what else? I see a list brewing behind those devious eyes,” he joked, but she noticed a nervous edge in his voice as well.
Cara let out a heavy sigh, unsure how her next demand would go over. “You need to get help, Pete. Not for me, but for yourself.” She cupped his chin, forcing him to look at her. “You can’t make anyone happy when you’re miserable. I read about an organization in town called Warriors for Warriors. I think you should look into it.”
He leapt off the bed and began to pace before pinning her with an accusing gaze. “I don’t need some damn pencil-pushing counselor telling me how I should feel.”
“It’s run by veterans, Pete, people who know what you’re going through.” His scowl deepened, but he stopped paving a trail across the tiles. “I’m not your enemy, you know. I love you, Pete, with all my heart, but I won’t live with your anger.” An intense sense of liberation rose inside her. “If you’re not willing to give this place a try, then you can take your proposal and walk right out the door.” There, I said it.
If she’d learned anything over the last few weeks, it was that her love alone wouldn’t keep them together. Pete Cross needed to love himself as well.
Pete must have recognized the seriousness in her tone, because his glare suddenly morphed into a look of fear. He squeezed himself beside her on the bed, took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles.
"Warriors for Warriors, huh. You got a number for this place?"
Chapter 16
An enormous pork loin roasted in the oven, filling the old farmhouse with the scent of herbs and garlic. From the kitchen doorway, Pete watched Cara’s fleece-covered hips sway as she mixed a batch of her killer mashed potatoes. Fresh green beans, cleaned, cut, and sliced, sat in a bowl by the sink, beside a homemade cherry pie still cooling on a rack. Food everywhere and she was the one thing he craved.
Some eighties rock ballad played through the speakers of a laptop sitting on the table. Pete remembered the song, but forgot the name. Not that he cared. The melody made her move and he loved to watch her dance.
It had taken almost two months to convince her to let him move back in. She wanted to take things slow. He understood and followed her lead, but since they now shared a home again, he intended to do right by her and make her his wife. Cara deserved nothing less.
He snuck up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She didn’t jump. She simply stopped stirring her potatoes and melted into his embrace with a contented sigh.
God, I love this woman.
“Hey, baby, how did the meeting go?” she asked. Her head fell back against his chest. Warmth settled in his heart.
He rested his chin on her shoulder. “It went good. A new guy joined today. I’m his sponsor. He’s Army, but hey, nobody’s perfect.” Pete grinned.
When she’d turned down his proposal at the hospital, she’d sparked a fierce determination he hadn’t experienced since boot camp. After almost losing her, he would do whatever necessary to keep her in his life and make her happy. Even if it meant pouring out his fear, agony, and shame to a group of strangers.
Besides, Cara was right. In order to make her happy, he had to let go of his anger. Since his discharge, he’d chosen to drown his sorrow by drinking himself into a stupor. Yeah, alcohol numbed the guilt and pain, giving him a false sense of control, but two months of sobriety had taught him a few things. One, using a bottle of whiskey to forget was a coward’s way, and two, he was no coward. He was a United States Marine.
Pete took Cara’s advice and started attending meetings at the Warriors for Warriors organization. Cara was right. The volunteers who ran the groups were veterans from all bra
nches of the military, men and woman who understood because they lived it. He may not heal overnight, but he would heal.
She twisted in his arms until her full breasts brushed his chest. “Don’t be too hard on your new guy. Remember your first meeting.” She lifted up with her toes and brushed his lips with a tender kiss.
He chuckled. “Yeah, it lasted about five minutes before I walked out. I still remember you sitting on the hood of my truck. With those sexy-ass legs crossed. You pulled me back in by my ear.”
“Well, that’s because you were being a big baby. Now look at you, you’re a sponsor. I’m so proud of you.” She started to pull away.
“Where are you going? I’m not through with you yet, baby.” He slid his tongue across her lips. Her gasp made him continue. He worked his mouth over hers until his blood surged through his veins.
She pulled away from him, breathless. “The potatoes.”
“I don’t give a damn about the potatoes.” He lifted her to the counter, working his hips between her thighs. “I need you…now.”
She laughed when he nipped her throat. “Pete, we can’t. We have a bunch of people coming over here in two hours for dinner.”
Cooking school had started for her three weeks ago, and she had been planning these damn dinner parties every weekend since. He was proud she was following her dream to become a chef, but he wasn’t hungry for food right now.
He continued to nibble on her until she moaned with need. “John’s youth group ended like ten minutes ago. He’s coming straight here.”
“I don’t care.” His hand closed over her breast, toying with her nipple.
“Oh, you don’t play fair, baby. You know I can’t resist you when you do that.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Come with me.” She squeezed out from behind him and hopped off the counter.
Cross My Heart Page 19