by Jenny Lykins
Hunter marveled at that. Had his mother been the one with Katie, she'd have never been allowed the chance to stain her clothes. And if by some misfortune she had, she'd have been whisked off, with a severe reprimand, to have her clothing changed.
Katie burst into fresh giggles when the enormous puppy loped from behind a shrub and fell over its own feet. He tumbled into her lap just as the now huge black cat attacked from behind a tree.
The animals had become fast friends and any battles now were strictly spurious. This one had Katie right in the middle. She squealed and giggled hysterically as the two combatants circled her in a frenzy.
The cat, ever the troublemaker, deviated from course and climbed Marin's bodice to yowl at the dog from atop her shoulders.
The puppy, clown that he was and larger now than most full grown dogs, yipped and tumbled into Marin, knocking her over and sending the cat flying.
The whole scene was so like that in the barn, Hunter could not resist. He wanted to be part of this. He wanted to sit on the grass with his daughter and Marin Alexander. He wanted the dog and the cat to pounce on him and knock him backward. He wanted grass stains on his shirt.
He wanted what he had never had.
Oh God, he wanted her.
Without quite knowing how he got there, he found himself standing over them, the toes of his boots disappearing under the skirts of a giggling Marin. The giggling stopped when he asked, "May I join you?"
Marin sat up with a jerk and dusted off her clothes. Katie grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the ground.
"C'mon, Papa! Come and play!"
He sank to the ground and crossed his legs. The cat immediately jumped onto his right knee and hesitantly sniffed his hands. He held them still, allowing the little black nose to travel along his fingertips. When he tried to pet her, she dodged his hand, but after sufficient sniffing, he must have passed the test, because she daintily tiptoed along his thigh and curled into a ball in the nest of his legs.
Angel. Lord, what a misnomer. The cat was mischief incarnate. In two weeks she had scratched, shredded, or knocked over every item left vulnerable in the house. And what the cat didn't destroy, the dog did. There were now long, permanent scratches in the parquet floor of the foyer from the dog trying to make the turn at a dead run and slamming into the door.
He loved it.
"Here PuffyPuffyPuffy," Katie called. The huge, fat puppy gamboled to Katie and liberally washed her face with his tongue.
"Say hello to Puffy, Papa."
Hunter reached over and scratched behind the furry ears.
"Say it, Papa!"
He smiled and nodded seriously.
"How do you do, Puffy?" Was there a less virile word in the English language than Puffy? It was virtually impossible to utter the word in a masculine manner. He tried not to say it unless absolutely necessary.
A most unfortunate word to name an animal, but a most accurate word in this instance. The dog looked like a huge, golden puff of cotton with four legs and enormous feet. If the dog grows into its feet, he thought, it will be the size of a pony.
Katie and the animals finally calmed to a sleepy quiet. Puffy lay stretched out on his back, furiously pumping a hind leg as Katie scratched his pink belly. A veritable roar rose from the black lump of fur in Hunter's lap.
The silence of their surroundings was deafening. It did not escape Hunter that Marin had not said a word since his arrival. He turned his gaze to her and found her looking at him. She did not look away.
If her eyes held any emotion at all it was that of sadness. He felt anew the regret for having reprimanded her. When he was truthful with himself, he admitted that he enjoyed her playful familiarity. Looked forward to it, in fact. And he'd enjoyed the kisses entirely too much. So much so that it scared him right into attempting to enrage her so that she would never make him question his life again.
But his heart, so newly free of the walls around it, had already asked all the questions, and he knew, without a doubt, that he was looking into the amber eyes of his answer. There was one thing he must do.
"Marin, I am very sorry for the way I spoke to you two weeks ago. I was caught unawares, and to be perfectly honest, I enjoyed your kiss too much." He glanced down at the cat and then back at her. "I should not have spoken so harshly, but I fear you...spooked me with your openness." He waited for her to respond, but she simply continued to look at him. "I dealt poorly with the situation, but you are a most unusual woman, and I have no experience with a woman of your nature."
She was not making this easy for him. Any moment now he would find himself babbling.
"Do you forgive me for speaking to you as I did?"
Marin watched as Hunter sat cross-legged, gently stroking the cat in his lap and apologizing for jumping down her throat.
If he only knew how much she would forgive. She'd been miserable the last two weeks. At times she physically ached, but she had long ago become a master at masking her emotions. Hunter's rebuke hurt so much though, it had been a struggle to keep her feelings in check.
She had decided in the last few days, however, that this new relationship with Hunter as her employer was much easier. He'd made his feelings clear, and it was safer for Marin to look at him as an employer. She'd allowed herself to get much too close, to have fleeting thoughts of what might be. But she would never allow herself to care like that again. She couldn't let herself forget that Hunter's ghost looked exactly the age of Hunter now. The thought had scratched at her consciousness until she finally had to acknowledge it. Was he destined to die soon?
She fought down the ache that thought caused and looked back at his beseeching face. A crescent dimpled his left cheek as he clearly tried to look repentant.
Yes. It's been much easier. And now he was threatening to blow her newfound resolve out of the water. But she couldn't allow him to draw her back into his life, back to hoping for something that could only hurt her in the long run.
She smiled at his boyish grin, charmed in spite of her best intentions.
"Of course I forgive you, Mr. Pierce. But you were correct in reprimanding me." Was that a look of disappointment in his eyes? "I've been entirely too familiar, and I needed reminding of my place. I promise you won't have to remind me again."
That was disappointment she saw! He looked positively crestfallen. She was tempted to take back her words and start teasing him again, but she bolstered her resolve.
It just didn't pay to get close to people.
He seemed at a loss for words. As he sat and looked at Marin, his hand now quiet on the cat, Katie tiptoed up behind him and slid her chubby little arms around his neck.
Hunter leaned his head back to touch Katie's cheek with his own. His eyes tightly closed, a look of exquisite pain passed across his face.
Marin could only watch with bitter regret. She would give anything to be part of that scene. To be free to slide her arms around Hunter's neck, to pull Katie close and cuddle her next to them. But every person in her life, every single one of them, died if she got too close. She wouldn't allow herself to care. She couldn't bare another death of a loved one. And somewhere in an illogical little corner of her mind, a tiny voice said, "Maybe it's your fault."
"Looks like there may be a storm blowing in." Hunter's emotionless voice cut into her thoughts, and she wondered how long he'd been staring at her.
She glanced at the western sky. Huge, dark clouds boiled toward Memphis, bringing with them a fresh wind that smelled of rain. Just then Puffy whimpered and scooted under Hunter's arm until he managed to displace Angel on Hunter's lap. Angel raised her head only long enough to bestow an indignant glare and half-heartedly bat a paw in protest.
Hunter chuckled sadly at the piles of fur in his lap, scratching both behind pointed ears and murmuring "Coward" to the puppy. A booming clap of thunder sent the animals scrambling to their feet and racing across the lawn, into the open front door. Katie disappeared through it moments later, calling the animals'
names and bossily ordering them back outside.
The sound of thunder, the darkening sky, the fresh wind whipping her hair all reminded Marin of her last day in 1996. The tree they sat under now was the very same tree under which Hunter's spirit had merged with hers, sending mind-numbing thrills flashing through her body. She slid her gaze to look at him. The wind ruffled his hair, the soft folds of his shirt billowed invitingly. Unbidden tears burned her eyes, but she fought them back, along with the desire to touch him.
"I don't like the looks of that." Hunter's face was turned to the southwest sky. He was right. A greenish cast lent an eerie glow over the Arkansas landscape south of Memphis. "We had best close up the house and prepare for a bad one."
He rose, dusted off his trousers, then held out his hand to help Marin to her feet.
The instant her skin touched his, a thunderclap vibrated the earth and lightning pierced the sky. Ecstasy raced from his fingertips to penetrate every inch of her body. When the last waves of the memory subsided, she found herself in his arms, her head pressed against his precious chest. He murmured soothing words as he crushed her to him.
Damn! Damn, she couldn't touch him! She couldn't allow herself to touch him again.
This time the tears refused to be stopped. Hot and bitter, they filled her eyes, then spilled onto his snowy white shirt. Her pain tore at her then. It rose from the pit of her stomach and spiraled outward. She pulled away from him, her face buried in her hands as she forced herself to stand alone. It wasn't fair! The pain she'd suffered, the love that had died. She curled into herself, awash with unbearable memories, then she stomped once on the ground, hard, to force it all to stop.
It wouldn't stop.
"Marin, what - "
She jerked free of the hand Hunter had placed on her arm, grabbed up a handful of skirts and ran for the comfort of the house.
*******
A howling wind rattled the windows even though the shutters were closed against it. Rain battered the house so hard it sounded like rocks cascading from the sky.
Hunter was certain he would see hailstones the size of chicken eggs when he opened the front door, and all he could think of was more damage to his crop. Relief washed over him when he stepped onto the veranda and was met with nothing more than a very hard rain.
The energy of the storm was exhilarating. He much preferred it to the atmosphere inside the house. He pulled the door closed behind him and drew his favorite wicker rocker up to the handrail. The cushion felt only a little damp as he leaned back and propped his feet on the rail, one booted foot crossed over the other. The force of the wind blew a fine mist onto the porch. He raised his face to it, breathing in the clean smell of summer storm and wishing he felt free to invite Marin to enjoy it with him.
He feared that, with his angry words, he had put to death any hopes of becoming close to Marin. Apologies did not come easy to him, but he had sincerely given one in an attempt to rekindle that wonderful, bantering personality so unique to her. He'd been astounded at the degree of his disappointment when she called him "Mr. Pierce" again and made it clear she would no longer give in to spontaneity.
Spontaneity, hell. He'd been disappointed that he could no longer look forward to the unexpected kiss from a playful Marin.
"Papa?"
He dropped his feet to the floor and turned to see Katie peering out the door at him.
"I'm a-scared of the funder."
He smiled at the huge, round eyes, the color so like his own. They got rounder when a flash of lightning split the sky. He patted his lap.
"Climb up here. I'll protect you from the big, bad thunder."
Katie scampered out the door and scrambled onto his lap just as the expected boom shook the house. She shivered and burrowed her bottom as far back as she could. He wrapped both arms around her and rested his chin lightly on her head.
Lord, she felt good. That tiny, warm body curled so trustingly into his. Her clean, soapy smell mingled with that of fresh grass and puppy. Her dark curls felt like silk against his jaw. He nuzzled her ear as he looked out at the sky.
"I'll tell you a secret," he whispered, "so you never have to be afraid of thunder again."
She sat very still and whispered back, "What?"
"Thunder cannot harm you."
She turned and looked up into his eyes with skepticism.
"It's true," he assured. "Thunder is just clouds bumping together. It is just a noise, like when you bump your hands together. They make a clap. Well, clouds make a thunderclap when they bump together."
She gave this theory some thought, then settled back against his chest, a little more relaxed. He would deal with the lightning side of the coin another time.
As she snuggled against him Hunter rocked gently. He noticed the greenish cast in the sky was gone, and he rested his head back and closed his eyes. He imagined Marin sitting next to him as he rocked Katie. The two women in his life that he never knew he needed, never thought he wanted.
He would never know how the heart of that woman ached with longing when she came looking for her charge and found her quietly watching it rain, wrapped in her sleeping father's arms.
*******
Marin heard the beep and recognized it this time for what it was. A heart monitor.
Momentary panic seized her before a calm settled over her. The beep increased in cadence and then slowed. Would she see Ryan again?
"Yes."
The single word caressed her like a lover's touch. She turned her head to the sound and struggled to open her eyes.
He was beside her bed again, helmet in hand and wearing the green flight suit she'd always loved. He looked so good in it. The monitor beeped faster as she thought of the times she'd toyed with all those zippers, ending the game when she came to the one that zipped open from either direction.
"Thoughts like that'll get you another shot of painkiller, Fireball."
What felt like a laugh came out sounding like a moan.
The warm mist of his hand brushed along her cheek. He smiled that bone-melting smile of his, then whispered in her ear, "I love you, Marin."
She tried to smile, but her muscles refused to cooperate. Before she could panic, Ryan's hands cradled her cheeks.
"Don't," he said softly. "Don't try to move." He took his helmet from the bed and placed it on the shiny hospital floor. Sinking down to perch on it, his green gaze came level with hers.
"You've fallen into a coma. That's why you can't move." He paused and smiled gently. The serenity he exuded calmed her. "You can't even open your eyes - "
But I can see you!
"Your spirit sees me, Fireball. Your spirit can't go into a coma. It can't die. It can only move on."
He was going to ask her to go with him again. She sensed it before he spoke.
"You're right. That's why I'm here." He studied her face, probed into her soul with his gaze. "It's time to go, Marin. There's nothing left for you here. There's no need to hang on to this life." The gentleness, the sweetness of his voice brought tears to her eyes. They burned a hot, moist trail across her temples and into her hair.
He stood now and tucked his helmet under his arm. "Come with me. You just have to want it." As he backed toward the door with his hand outstretched, his vaporous quality became more and more translucent.
Ryan! Oh God! Ryan, don't go! She struggled to move but couldn't. The deep sobs that racked her soul were only whimpers to her ears. Finally, as if the bonds that held her snapped, she felt her hand reach for him. Her arm lifted and her head raised. Oh God, she felt weightless after being trapped for so long in that bed! She hesitantly placed her feet on the cool, smooth floor. It surprised her that it took no effort to rise.
She glanced back at the bed and was staggered to see herself, pale and broken, with white bandages wrapping most of her body. She looked frantically back at the door.
Ryan was almost gone, and she hurried to be with him. She ran to the door, and though Ryan was still visible on the
other side, she couldn't pass through it. She screamed for him to wait.
Pain flared in his eyes, so intense that Marin could feel it herself. She tried to run to him again, but it was as if a thin, steel thread held her back.
When he disappeared altogether her mind stopped screaming. She'd tried. She'd tried to let go. It wasn't as easy as he'd said.
A familiar feeling - one she'd lived with most of her life - washed over her. She felt deserted. And alone.
"You are not alone. I won't allow it."
A real sob, not a whimper, broke from her throat as she looked at Hunter. He opened his arms to her as he stood beside her bed.
She wanted to run to him. Wanted him to wrap his arms around her as he had done to Katie. But she couldn't bear it.
His ghost was so young.
Hunter's eyes reflected all the pain she'd ever felt. His arms dropped to his sides in defeat.
"You cannot lose your faith, Marin. If you do, you lose your soul."
She kept herself from going to him, though his words pulled at her. She couldn't give in to him, only to be left staring at his lifeless face framed by the wood of his coffin.
He looked as if she'd slapped him. He started to fade, but his voice still rang strong. "Things are not always as they seem. Have faith in your destiny. You are the only one who can change it."
When the barest outline of him faded from view, Marin's energy faded with it. She was being pulled, inexorably, back into the broken, still body on the bed.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Hunter woke the next morning with a new determination and a fire in him to put it to action.
And the day was perfect for it.
The storm of the day before ushered in an unseasonably cool day. White clouds marbleized the perfect blue of the sky. The air was light and free of its usual moisture. Everyone, even Ambrose, walked with a new vigor.
Hunter gave one last tug to the burgundy silk tie at his neck and flicked a glance at the mirror. He snatched up his coat, shoving his arms into the sleeves as he trotted down the steps to breakfast.