by Peggy Webb
“Neither could you.”
The sounds were closer now, right outside the door. Any minute Virginia would begin her long journey... alone.
“Jane, do you believe in prayer?”
“I don’t not believe it.”
The door swung open and the bed that would bear her away came into view.
“Say a prayer for me,” she whispered.
SEVENTEEN
Bolton had flown the distance from Arizona to Mississippi without incident, and now Virginia’s security guard wouldn’t let him through the gate.
“Sorry, sir. No visitors.”
“You remember me, don’t you, Jim?”
“I sure do. Hard to forget that face.”
“She’s not expecting me, but I’m sure if you call the house, she’ll tell you to let me in.”
Jim shook his head. “Sorry, sir.”
Bolton had expected resistance from Virginia, but never from Jim. He knew the kind of security system she had. It was formidable but not impregnable. The wall would present no challenge to a man who had scaled mountains.
Still, breaking and entering was not the ideal way to approach Virginia Haven.
“I could lie to you, Jim. I could tell you that I had come back to finish the interview with Virginia. But I won’t do that.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Instead I’m going to tell you why I want to see her and why I won’t leave until I do.”
He had Jim’s attention, but that was all. Bolton had been reading body language for many years, and if he read Jim correctly, the old man had no intention of being persuaded. Still, it was worth a try.
“I love Virginia, and I want her to be my wife. I believe she loves me, too, but it’s going to take a while to convince her that we can have a good future together.” Bolton made an eloquent gesture, hands out, palms up. “I have nothing to hide, Jim. I’m just a simple man in love with the most wonderful woman in the world.”
Jim fiddled with the ring of keys on his belt, then cleared his throat.
“I guess I shouldn’t tell you this.”
The cold fingers of premonition squeezed Bolton’s chest.
“Tell me what, Jim?”
“Miss Virginia’s not here.”
“I don’t mind waiting. When will she be back?”
“Lordy, Lordy, I wish I knew...” Jim coughed, then pulled out a red bandanna and blew his nose. “Miss Virginia’s in the hospital.”
o0o
Bolton broke all the speed limits. At the hospital he had no trouble finding out Virginia’s room number, but that was all he knew. It was the things he didn’t know that nearly drove him mad.
Too anxious to wait for the elevator, he raced up the stairs two at a time. The door to room 335 was slightly ajar. He paused to mentally gear himself for the sight of his beloved Virginia in a hospital bed, and then he strode through.
“Bolton!” Jane put her hand over her chest. “You nearly scared me to death.”
He glanced from Jane to the bed. It was empty, the sheets tightly tucked and smooth.
“Where’s Virginia?”
“Sit down, Bolton.”
Everything about Jane set off alarm bells, her haggard face, her slumped shoulders, her red-rimmed eyes. He pulled the chair away from the wall and sat facing her.
“Where’s Virginia?”
“In surgery.”
“Why?” Jane stared at him, her face bleak. “I want to know everything, Jane. Don’t leave out the smallest detail.”
“Do you love her, Bolton?”
“Yes, Jane. I love her. She’s my heart, my soul, my very life.”
“All right, then.” Jane drew a deep breath. “This is really Virginia’s place to tell you, but I don’t care, I’m doing what I think is best.... Don’t you think I ought to do what I think is best for the friend I love so much that if anything happens to her I won’t be worth a hill of beans, ever again?”
“Yes.”
As the story unfolded, Bolton understood why Virginia had fled from the mountain, understood why she had refused his calls, why she had sent the text. Loving her so much that their souls were connected, he knew her fear, felt her pain.
“That’s about it, Bolton,” Jane said, concluding her story. “The bottom line here is that my best friend may have cancer. If this makes a difference to you, leave now, before Virginia comes back.”
Cancer. The word weighed Bolton down so that he could hardly move. How could he fight an enemy so insidious?
“No,” he said, as if with one word he could deny that he might lose the woman he’d searched for all his life.
o0o
Virginia’s first awareness was of the chill.
“I’m cold,” she whispered, her eyes so heavy, she couldn’t hold them open.
She felt a warm blanket being spread over her legs and tucked gently under her chin.
“Is that better?”
The voice was deep and musical, a male voice. So like Bolton’s, she thought. So very much like Bolton’s.
“Hmmm,” she said, snuggling under the covers. “Much.”
“Do you need anything else?”
Bolton. I need Bolton. Did she actually say those words? Or did she just think them?
A large warm hand closed around hers. So comforting. So strong. Virginia held on.
When she woke up she’d have to thank Dr. Mason for being so kind... if she ever woke up.
She felt the hand on her forehead smoothing back her hair.
“I’m tired,” she whispered.
“Rest, my love, just rest.”
Why was Dr. Mason calling her his love? Or was she dreaming? He was caressing her cheeks now, and murmuring to her in some strange and beautiful language. She felt as if she were on the mountaintop with Bolton, lying on his blanket, and listening to the sound of his voice. If she was dreaming, she didn’t want to wake up.
There was a sound of running water. Was it the mountain stream where Bolton had released her fish?
No, that wasn’t right. She had left the mountain. She would never see him again. The tears were hot on her face.
“Don’t cry, Virginia. I’m here.”
Dr. Mason gently wiped her cheeks. She’d have to reward his kindness by taking him and his wife out to dinner.
“Mother... Can you hear me?” Candace needed her, but she barely had enough energy for herself. “How do you feel, Mother? Does it hurt?”
Why was her daughter asking her that question? Why should she hurt? She drifted back to the mountain top, back to the stream where the sound of water gurgling over stones mingled with the sound of wind in the trees lulled her into a sense of peace unlike any she had ever known. The murmur of voices came to her from a long way off—Jane’s quiet reassuring tones and Candace’s husky questions.
Virginia held on to the big, warm hand, anchoring herself to that source of comfort and strength.
“Virginia, open your eyes and look at me.” A brisk masculine voice. Dr. Mason. Why was he being so curt? She preferred his gentle bedside manner to this intrusive noise that disturbed her rest.
“Come on, Virginia. Time to wake up. You can do it.”
Her eyelids were heavy and uncooperative, and she had to fight off the desire to sleep. Slowly she forced her eyes open.
There was a face near hers, a dear, familiar face, and for a moment she thought she’d conjured him up. Then he smiled...
“Hello, Virginia.”
Everybody started talking at once—Candace, Jane, Dr. Mason—but the only person she saw was Bolton Gray Wolf, the only person she heard was her beloved Apache warrior.
Bending down, he kissed her softly on the lips.
“Don’t talk, don’t even think, Virginia. Just know that I am here and that I love you.”
She hadn’t dreamed him. His was the hand she’d held, his the voice that had comforted her, his the lips that had soothed her.
Suddenly, she was aware of the tight bandage ar
ound her breast, of the pain, of an overwhelming sense of loss. Her lips formed a protest, but he kissed it away.
“Later, Virginia,” he whispered. “We can talk later.”
Then he was gone, a magnificent man glowing with strength and vitality, a man now completely out of her league and out of her reach. She had many lonely days ahead to think about that, but right now she had to concentrate all her energy on fighting a battle against the hateful enemy that had invaded her body.
“You came through the surgery just fine, Virginia,” Dr. Mason said.
She felt the bandage around her chest. It was pulled tight, flattening her so that she felt as if she had no breast at all. Panic set in.
“They didn’t take my breast?” She grabbed his hand. “Dr. Mason, did they take my breast?”
“Relax, Virginia. Dr. Davidson did only the lumpectomy.”
“Was it...” Cancer. She couldn’t make herself say the word.
“The lab results on the frozen section will be back in about three days. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear. Meantime, you can go home where you’ll be more comfortable.”
“How soon?” Jane asked.
“If she has no problems, about four hours.”
“You’re sure it’s safe?” Candace said.
“Absolutely. After you get home, if you have any questions or if anything unusual develops, call me.” He patted Virginia’s hand. “You did great, Virginia. The nurse will be in to give you instructions before you leave.”
Dr. Mason left the three women staring at each other, speechless with the fear that still nagged at them all. Virginia fumbled at her bedside table for water, and Jane came over to pour it for her. Candace moved the glass menagerie from the windowsill to the shelf that held the television, then back again. Keeping busy, all of them.
“I can’t stand this not knowing,” Candace burst out. “I thought he said the pathologist could tell by looking. Why didn’t somebody ask him what the pathologist thought?”
If looks could kill, Jane’s would have felled Candace in her tracks.
“I’m just saying what’s on all our minds. Why didn’t we ask?”
Virginia placed her hand over the bandage. “Because I don’t want to know.”
She just wanted to float off in limbo and stay until all this was over.
“I just want it all to be over,” she whispered.
“It will,” Jane said. “Soon.”
Virginia believed Jane because she had to, because believing that it was not going to be over soon would drive her mad. She lay against the pillows, exhausted.
“Did Bolton leave?” she asked.
The door opened, and he came into the room, bringing with him hope and memories too wonderful... and too painful to bear.
“No,” he said. “I’m not leaving you, Virginia. Not now, not ever.”
EIGHTEEN
Virginia knew she should send Bolton away, but she didn’t have the heart, nor the energy. Besides that, his quiet strength gave her a comfort she couldn’t get from Jane or from Candace. If she could hold on to him, then maybe everything would be all right.
“I’m glad you’re here, Bolton,” Jane said.
“Thank you, Jane.”
How easy he was with people, Virginia thought. It was a natural ease born partially of his experience as a photojournalist but primarily of his innate kindness and generosity of spirit.
Candace was not as comfortable with their visitor as Jane. The flush on her cheeks and the nervous movements of her hands gave her away. She cleared her throat.
“I... uh... I’m glad too,” she finally said.
“That means a lot to me, Candace.”
“The last time you were here I was pretty rotten to you, and I apologize.”
“Apology accepted.”
“All of a sudden, I’m starving.” Jane grabbed her purse. “Candace, let’s go down to the cafeteria and get a bite.”
“I already...” Jane gave her a look, and she blushed. “Okay. See you in a little while, Mother.”
Virginia was too exhausted to protest about Jane’s obvious scheme. After the door closed behind them, Bolton came to her bedside and smoothed back her hair.
“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable alone in my presence, Virginia. You’ve been through a tough ordeal, and I have no intention of making it worse by saying things that might upset you.”
“Good.” She closed her eyes, and he sat in the chair beside her and took her hand. “Bolton... thanks for leaving me alone with Jane and Candace when Dr. Mason came.”
“That was a private conversation about something very personal and very painful. If there is anything you want me to know, you’ll tell me.”
“Don’t take this as any indication that I’ve changed my mind... but you are the most wonderful man I’ve ever known.”
He smiled. “I don’t expect an easy victory with you, Virginia. But make no mistake, I do expect victory.” He gently squeezed her hand. “Rest now. You need to build your strength.”
“I think I will close my eyes for just a little while.”
It felt so good to hold his hand, to know that he was there watching over her.
While she slept Bolton prayed. Silently he invoked the gentle Father Creator to spread his great wings of comfort and healing over the beautiful fragile woman who lay in the narrow hospital bed. In the language of the Apache he asked the Great Spirit of his people to imbue Virginia with the strength of the bear and to lift her on wings of eagles so that she might once again soar.
He asked guidance for himself, as well. The wisdom of his ancestor Cochise, Chiricahua Apache Chief, flowed through him, and he poured out his petition in Athabascan.
“Great Spirit, when I ask my beloved for her hand, grant that I may speak straight so that my words will go as sunlight into her heart.”
A kind of peace settled over him, and on the bed Virginia smiled in her sleep. Bolton kept watch, and after a while Jane and Candace tiptoed into the room to take up their silent vigil.
When the nurse came Virginia was still sleeping. She quietly instructed them about the patient’s care.
“I’ll bring a wheelchair now,” the nurse said, “and you can take her home.”
“She won’t need a wheelchair,” Bolton said.
He lifted Virginia so tenderly that she never woke up, not even when they got into Jane’s car. She didn’t open her eyes until he was on the staircase that led to her bedroom. She was vividly aware of Bolton’s arms around her and his fiercely possessive stare.
For a moment she thought they had just met, and he was taking her upstairs to make wild passionate love to her. A twinge of pain and the tight bandage around her breast reminded her that she had neither the body nor the energy to arouse passion in anyone, let alone a man as virile as Bolton Gray Wolf.
If she’d had the strength, she would have kicked something. Hard.
“Put me down,” she snapped. “I can walk.”
“You’re stronger, I see,” Bolton said, smiling as he continued his march to her bedroom.
“I said put me down. Where are Jane and Candace?”
“In the kitchen, preparing food.”
Just ahead her bedroom door yawned open. She couldn’t bear seeing Bolton in that intimate setting again.
“This is as far as you go,” she said.
His arms tightened around her and his stride never faltered. As he stepped over the threshold, memories burned through her.
“Here you are, Virginia,” he said as he lowered her to the cool sheets. “Our playground.”
“It’s no longer our playground.”
“It will be.” He pulled the covers over her, then spent an inordinate amount of time arranging them.
She was too selfish to tell him to stop. For a little while she let herself enjoy the feel of his hands on her body. He smoothed the sheets over her legs from ankle to thigh. Would she ever again know the joy of pure desire?
“Until mo
rning, Virginia.” He kissed her softly on the lips.
Tall and handsome, he walked toward her door. He took her breath away, and she didn’t find her tongue until he got to the door.
“Where will you stay?”
“I’ll check into a hotel.”
Let him go, her mind said, but she couldn’t bear that kind of rudeness.
“There’s no need for that,” she said. “Since you’ve come all this way, the least I can do is offer the guest cottage to you.”
“I accept.” His smile was there and gone, the same fleeting smile she had found so appealing when they had first met.
What did that smile mean? She had plenty of time to ponder it.
Bolton had barely left when Candace and Jane came into the room, bringing armloads of roses and the glass menagerie. They fussed over the arrangement of roses until Virginia told them both to sit down.
“I need to go down to my room to study, anyhow,” Candace said.
“I want you to go back tomorrow,” Virginia said. “There’s no need for you to miss classes hanging around here.”
“But, Mother, what about you?”
“I’ll take care of her,” Jane said. “Don’t you worry.”
“I don’t need taking care of,” Virginia snapped.
Candace shot Jane a helpless look, and Jane grinned.
“Just let her try to run me off,” she said.
Virginia was too tired to argue. Jane settled onto the chaise longue with Virginia’s latest novel, and she drifted into a restless sleep.
A couple of hours later, Virginia jolted awake and reached for her robe. Jane was on her feet immediately.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she asked, snatching the robe from Virginia.
“To the bathroom.”
“Oh...” Looking chagrined, Jane helped her into the robe.
“Why don’t you go on home, Jane. You’re exhausted.”
“You need me, and I’m staying.”
A wave of pain hit Virginia, and her hand shook as she took a painkiller. In a little while the physical pain would be gone, but not the emotional agony, not the harsh mental anguish that made her want to scream and kick furniture.
“I don’t need you hovering over me. I’m not some sick old woman.” The minute the words were out of her mouth, Virginia regretted them. She reached for Jane, and they ended up in each other’s arms. “How can you put up with me?” she whispered.