“Let me answer you this way. For the past eight years I’ve lived with every kind of fear imaginable. But being with you has changed that world for me. To live in fear is death. I’ve been existing in a walking death state for years. Never again. You make me want to face life head-on. That’s what you do.
“When you came back from Glasgow, you knew what you wanted and you didn’t waste a second. Yesterday you helped me face what I had to do. Your mental strength is awesome. You’ve shown me the better way to live. It’s breathtaking how confident you are. I want to emulate you.
“Yesterday I bought my wedding dress.”
His eyes lit up.
“Cassie has helped me make plans. I’m going to be Mrs. Zane Lawson and I’m going to have children with you, provided we’re so blessed. I’m not afraid of intimacy with you because I know that with you I’ll be safe and cherished.
“But so far all our talk has been about me. At this point I’m concerned about you. I want to take care of you, love. If you’ll let me, I want to fill the empty spaces where you’ve known loss. You’ve had more than your fair share, but you never complain, never talk about it. Everyone depends on you. The reason they do is because you never let anyone down. You’re tough for everyone.
“You have no idea how much Sadie loves you for helping her after her mother died. You were there to give her comfort and love little Ryan when your own heart was broken over your marriage. You helped her through the rough patches with Jarod. You’ve brought a new happiness to Millie’s and Matt’s lives.
“My brothers admire you more than you know. You came here and made this land your own. You did it with your own sweat and blood. That’s what my grandfather loves about you. You’ve cleaned out a nest of vipers since you arrived. You’ve earned your place. If I were Apsaalooké, I’d name you Starts his own Fires.”
His eyes had grown moist. “You’re well named, Winter Fire Woman. In the winter of my discontent, you warmed me with the fire burning in you. I want to take that fire to my heart and my bed.”
“I want that, too,” she whispered against his lips. “With time we’ll learn to help each other through our episodes. That’s what the refiner’s fire is all about. Now tell me what I can do for you right now.”
“You can lock the door and climb onto the bed with me.”
“We’ll do that tomorrow after we’re home.”
His eyes glowed an intense blue. “How are we going to get there? Neither of us has a vehicle here.”
“Connor and Liz solved our problem. They pulled his trailer with them.”
He reached up with his good arm to draw her head down to him. “I think I feel a heart attack coming on.”
“Don’t say that. Not even in jest.”
“Avery...”
Chapter Eleven
The day before the wedding, Connor and Jarod drove Zane into Billings to get their tuxes and enjoy a last dinner together at the Stockman’s Club while he was still a single man. This wasn’t your typical bachelor party. Toward the end of the meal, Zane could read the concern in their eyes.
“I know what’s on your minds. Believe me, it’s been on my mind for weeks, too. And I’ve been studying up on PTSD—I hope you have, too.”
Zane sipped his ice water with his left hand because his right arm and shoulder still needed the sling when he was up and about.
“Avery hasn’t actually read the pamphlet I gave you, but I’ve told her about it.” He felt their glances. “Her first response was that it sounded like a blueprint, which, of course, it is. But I believe it’s going to work.
“We’ve had three incidences where she panicked. One in the trailer out at the dig site, and another in the back of the truck the night we were looking for Smiling Face. Both times it was a seemingly innocent touch that set her off. But we were able to recover and talk about it.
“Last night’s episode was a little different, though. She’d planned to drive home after we’d watched some TV, but she fell asleep next to me on the bed. I decided to let her stay there and went into the den to get some work done on the computer. Suddenly I heard a blood-curdling scream that frankly frightened the daylights out of me.
“I rushed into the bedroom to find her hunched up against the headboard, sobbing uncontrollably. When I called to her, she looked up at me with a blank stare. For a moment she didn’t recognize me. I said her name quietly several times until she finally came out of it.
“I asked her if she wanted to call off the wedding, but she said no and was adamant about it. I phoned Dr. Lindstrom for his advice. Like me, he believes it happened because we’re about to take vows, so he’s made a suggestion which I’ve already proposed to her. We’re going to have separate bedrooms. For how long no one knows.
“It took tremendous courage for her to agree to our marriage, but the next step is the true test. I’ve promised her that if all she wants is to be held, then that’s what we’ll do. Sometimes she’s braver about it than other times and has assured me she plans to be my wife in every sense. But after last night I’ve learned enough about her condition to know there’ll be times when she has no control over a flashback any more than I have over my PTSD.”
Connor’s eyes misted over. “You’re incredible, Zane.”
“I love her and happen to know you two would do the same thing for your wives under similar circumstances.”
“My uncle said her spirit would be freed by one with great vision,” Jarod said. “You’re like the eagle he spoke of who seeks the deepest blue of the sky. Our sister is the prize and we know she’ll be in the best hands with you.”
Zane was deeply moved. “I’m a lucky man to be marrying into your family. Thank you for your support.”
They returned to the ranch at ten with their tuxes. Jarod drove Zane home. Avery was somewhere inside her house with her grandfather. The two of them had decided they wouldn’t see each other until they met at the church. Their wedding was scheduled for eleven the next day. The brunch reception would follow on the terrace of Bannock ranch house. Matt and Millie would be driving Zane.
Once he’d hung up the suit and turned out the lights, he walked out on his patio to breathe in the warm night air. This was his last night having to live alone. Until he’d met Avery, he hadn’t given much thought to his aloneness. But now, he hated it. She filled his world. Even if they were going to sleep in separate bedrooms, they were within calling distance of each other and would always be together.
The possibility that she could have been killed by that monster who’d lain in wait for her outside the Rafferty ranch still haunted him. You’ve got to let it go, Lawson.
He went back inside and locked up. On the way to his bedroom he passed the guest bedroom where she would sleep for the time being. He prayed this period wouldn’t last a long time. Except for some vases of flowers, he hadn’t changed it. That would be up to Avery.
Their so-called honeymoon would consist of them moving in the things she wanted from her house. They would talk about major redecorating, but all in good time. Zane had bought the ranch house as-is after Sadie’s father died. Now that he was going to have a wife, they would put their stamp on it.
Deep down Zane was a family man. The joy of knowing their marriage would make a family brought such deep contentment, he moaned for the sheer joy of it. Today he’d purposely avoided coffee so he could fall asleep faster. He hoped it paid off. When he awoke tomorrow, it would be a day like none other.
The house was warm. He took off the sling and went to bed without the benefit of pajamas, something he wouldn’t be doing after tonight.
* * *
AVERY STOOD AT her open window, breathing in the air redolent of honeysuckle. It gave her pains of longing clear to the palms of her hands. This was probably the first night since Zane had come home for good that she hadn’t been wi
th him for at least part of it. She hated being separated from him.
The gift she’d bought him sat in a little box on the dresser. She walked over and lifted it to the light. A blue topaz as near to the color of Zane’s eyes as she could get, was set in a man’s gold ring. The artisan on the reservation felt it a great honor to make this for the special agent who’d avenged the enemy of the Crow.
A yearning for Zane stole through her to the point that she couldn’t stand it any longer. Forget tradition. She needed to see Zane tonight and give this to him.
Since she was still dressed in jeans and a top, she slipped down the stairs and out of the house to the new truck she’d purchased with Zane. Since she wouldn’t be gone long, she didn’t tell anyone where she was going.
He’d already given her keys to the house, so if he didn’t hear her knock, she could let herself in and call to him. She didn’t care if it was close to midnight. Avery knew he wouldn’t care, either. It was so awful being apart, tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.
The place was totally dark. Maybe he’d gone to bed. She unlocked the door and walked in. “Zane?” she called to him. “Sweetheart? Are you still awake?”
She heard his voice coming from the other part of the house. Assuming he’d given her the go-ahead, she hurried down the hallway. But she came to a dead stop when she reached the threshold of his room. From the moonlight through the window, his superb body glistened with perspiration. He lay on his back. His sheets were tangled around his hard-muscled legs and he let out little moans that sounded like whimpers.
Zane had told her about his nightmares, but she’d never seen him having one. Her first instinct was to run over and comfort him, but he’d warned her to keep away. Let him wake up on his own time, or talk to him using a soothing voice. The whimpers sounded like he was grieving. It was so gut wrenching, it tore her heart to shreds.
She tiptoed over to his dresser and put down the jewelry box and her keys. Avery must have stood there for ten minutes, but he wasn’t coming out of it.
“Zane?” she spoke gently to him. She repeated his name several times. He thrashed around for a moment and then lifted himself up on one elbow. He’d opened his eyes, but he looked disoriented. “Sweetheart? It’s Avery. Are you awake yet?”
“Avery?” He sounded incredulous.
“Yes, my love. I couldn’t stay away.”
“You’re alive?”
The question was a revealing one. “I’m very much alive. Let me show you.”
“Am I dreaming?”
“No.” She moved over to his bed and sat down next to him on his good side. “Lie still.” Using the end of the sheet she started to wipe the moisture off his face and chest. Unable to resist, she lowered her mouth to his and kissed him. She went on kissing him until he began to respond. “You see. It’s me and I’m here. I brought you a wedding present.”
“But we weren’t going to see each other until the ceremony.”
“I lied. I wanted to come now. Don’t move. Let me show you what I brought you.” She strode over to the dresser and brought the box back. “It’s your turn to open this one.”
The lines of stress were disappearing from his handsome face. He opened the box and lifted out the ring.
“I had this made for you on the reservation. My own ball and chain to keep us connected when we’re not together. The topaz matches your eyes. Let me put it on you.”
She took it from his fingers and slid it home on his ring finger. “You’re branded now.”
He tried to sit up, but she gently pushed him back down. “I came because I don’t want to be apart from you. I don’t want separate bedrooms. I want to be with you tonight and every night. Will you make love to me right now?”
“Right now?” His voice shook.
“Right this instant. Contrary to what you believe, I do know what goes on between a husband and wife who are crazy about each other. Tonight you were dreaming that I’d died. I’m here to make that awful dream go away. We have all night to love each other. I’ll sneak back to the ranch at dawn. Until then, I need you.
“Forget the blueprint. For my sake you followed it as faithfully as you could to this point. Now we need to throw it away. I love you, Zane. I love you so much.”
She took off her sandals and lowered herself to his side.
“What about your pistol?”
“I left it in the truck.”
“That has to be the first time you haven’t worn it.”
“Don’t you understand? I’ve dreamed about being your wife since the first day we met. I’ve been in agony ever since. Kiss me. Love me. I think I’ll die if you don’t.”
“I want to be your husband first. Tonight let’s lie here and hold each other. We’ll get to know each other until you’re totally comfortable with me. I’m marrying the most honorable woman in the world tomorrow. I want to be worthy of you.”
“Oh, Zane—”
He kissed the corners of her mouth. “We’re going to enjoy ourselves tonight. I promise. But we’ll save the best until we’re officially together. Now come here to me, Avery, and make my dreams come true. You’re the only one who can.”
She launched herself into the arms of Starts his own Fires.
That’s what he did, and no woman on the planet would ever know the degree of her joy.
* * * * *
Watch for Cassie and Trace’s story
in the final installment of Rebecca Winters’s
HITTING ROCKS COWBOYS miniseries,
coming April 2015
only from Harlequin American Romance!
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Chapter One
Delaney Blair stood at the window in the hospital conference room. Lightning flashed as raindrops battered the glass. The summer storm sweeping through Lubbock matched her mood. Two of her son’s doctors sat at the table she’d vacated. They’d been discussing Nickolas’s prognosis, and it wasn’t good.
Neal Avery, the pediatric oncologist who’d cared for Nickolas throughout his first illness, interrupted her chaotic thoughts. “Delaney, we’ve explored every avenue available to Nick at the moment. There simply are no marrow donor matches in the national donor bank. Nor have any emerged from the collection drives you and your friends ran.”
Delaney rubbed at goose bumps on her arms and hunched her shoulders against the harsh reality of Dr. Avery’s words.
Konrad Von Claus, a visiting pediatric oncologist and immunologist, chimed in. “I’ve gone over all of Nickolas’s records from the leukemia he fought when he was eighteen months old. Like Dr. Avery and the others who treated him, I found no reason to suspect his remission wouldn’t last. Regrettably, patients who fall out of remission require more aggressive measures.” Switching gears, he said, “It’s a fact ethnic minorities have difficulties finding matches. One reason is due to migration. Blood markers are inherited. Some families don’t migrate together. And many people are from blended cultures. What about Nickolas’s father, Ms. Blair? I don’t see anyone named Sanchez listed among the people from your area donor drive.”
Delaney turned from the window. “Dario Sanchez isn’t relevant, Dr. Von Claus. He isn’t now, and never has been in Nick’s life. Dario lives in Argentina.”
The visiting physician locked eyes with Delaney. “Hmm. I’d say he was a very crucial part of your son’s life once, wouldn’t you? We must face facts,” he said a little more gently. “Among ten million people signed up to be bone marrow donors, less than ten percent are Latino. To complicate matters, Argentines are often of European descent. Their bloodlines are Spanish or Italian, but some have a mix of English, German, mestizo or indigenous. That essentially means Nick’s chance for finding a match outside his family is well below the norm. We already know that you’re not a match. For Nick’s sake, you should ask his father and family to be tested.”
Mouth twisted to one side, Delaney shook her head until her red curls danced. “I haven’t seen Dario in over five years. Nick is four and a half...” She broke off and said, “Dario doesn’t know he has a son. We met when my father, rest his soul, bought eight bulls from Estancia Sanchez. To make a long story short, my father died suddenly, the bank foreclosed on our ranch and forced Dario’s family to take back their very expensive bulls and...the truth is he didn’t care about me.” Delaney’s voice faltered again because the doctor didn’t lower or soften his gaze. She threw up her hands. “You’re right. This isn’t about me or my feelings toward a man who promised to keep in touch but didn’t. This is about saving Nick’s life. I’d walk to hell and back for my son. I’ll see if I can find a phone number for the estancia online.”
Von Claus closed the medical chart and turned to his colleague. “You should go there and speak to Mr. Sanchez. Don’t you agree, Neal? Facing someone makes it harder for them to decline. A phone call may make it too easy for a man you haven’t spoken to in years, one unaware he’s a dad, to simply cut you off.”
Dr. Avery left his chair and took Delaney’s icy hands. “Dr. Von Claus is right. Time isn’t on our side. No man with half a backbone would refuse to help his own child. You need to see him and explain the whole problem. I know a trip will be costly, but I agree a physical meeting offers the best chance you and Nick have. You might also be able to obtain blood samples from his other relatives while you’re there.”
The New Cowboy Page 17