“Dream on little girl.” He tweaked her nose and brushed past her, moving away from her scent and her beauty. He might want her, but she’d never want him. Turning around he walked backward, away from the only woman he’d ever truly wanted. “Let me know if you’re pregnant.”
Her face drained of color, until even her lips turned milky.
“I want to know.” He stopped and watched her until she nodded, and then he turned away. Josephine Maxwell was a mistake he never intended to repeat. Vaulting the gate, he signaled to Dancer who’d watched the whole exchange from the deck of the house. Marsh needed to see Elizabeth. Josephine could look after her own ass from now on.
****
Eliza came to through a whirl of sensations that felt like she was floating. Was this heaven? Surely heaven wouldn’t smell so badly of disinfectant and overcooked bed linen?
Had to be a hospital. And a shit load of pain meds.
A beeping noise irritated her—until she cracked her eyelid and realized it was her ECG. All of a sudden it didn’t bother her so much. Unbelievably, she was alive. Her heart pounded and she heard it echoed in the pace of the machine. Forcing herself to breathe steadily, she relaxed her fingers one at a time.
The horror of the night before stumbled through her mind like a fast-forwarded movie. She’d thought she was dead. She’d thought she’d lost Nat. But there he was fast asleep, slumped with his head next to her arm on the bed. Fast asleep, rumpled and tired. His chair pulled as close to the bed as it was possible to get. Raising her hand, she ran it through the blond hair that glistened in the morning sun and shifted uncomfortably as a thousand daggers stabbed her leg.
Shit.
She groaned, though maybe it was a whimper, and Nat jerked awake, nearly falling off the chair in confusion. Recovering quickly, he gave her the biggest, widest smile she’d ever seen.
“Hi,” she croaked.
“Hi, yourself.” He grinned back. Slowly, he leaned over and kissed her on the mouth. “How do you feel?”
“Like some bastard shot me in the leg and I nearly died.” She regretted the humor when she saw him pale.
“Hey,” she grabbed his hand, rubbed the calloused palm with shaky fingers, “I’m okay.”
Smiling weakly, he looked down at their clasped hands and squeezed. “You are so much better than okay, Eliza.”
Emotions squeezed her throat and she blinked back the tears that wanted to flow.
“I’ve got a question for you,” he said, suddenly serious.
“What is it?”
He picked up the control that raised and lowered her bed. Pressed the button that gently raised her legs higher. “Nurses showed me how to do this. Said it would be good for you once you woke up.” He looked out of the windows towards the nurse’s station, guilt written in every line of his forehead. “I was supposed to call them when you woke up...” He shrugged and pressed the button again.
She could feel the cast tugging on the stitches, nothing major, just an odd dislocated feeling that should have been painful. Her eyes moved up her cast. Bold black letters were printed upside down in a vertical line so she could read them.
Marry me? It said.
She grinned. “Me?”
Nat blew his breath up across his face in a long exasperated sigh. “Yeah you. Who else?”
“I...” she blinked, bit her lip, didn’t know what to say. She looked down at the white cotton sheets, spread her hand on top of it and swallowed. “I haven’t told you everything—”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“I bought the land—”
“I figured that out already. And the loan?” He raised his eyebrows and looked anything but angry.
She nodded. “I’ve got the money.”
“Good, about time this family had some good fortune.” He smiled down at her, looking like a man who didn’t give a damn what reasons she came up with.
“And I’ve done some bad things.”
Nat sat down, took her hand and massaged the tight knuckles.
“Eliza, I love you. You’ve been through hell. We’ve all done things we’re sorry for.”
She’d been proud of herself for not blowing DeLattio’s brains out, but she wasn’t sure who’d killed him in the end. Her assassin? Maybe.
Could she forgive herself for that? She thought of Josie and Nat and how DeLattio had dipped his evil into their world. She could live with it. They were both alive, so she could live with it.
She opened her lips to speak, but Nat put two fingers across them. “Remember I told you before it didn’t matter what you’d done, or what you were running from? I meant it. I love you. I want to marry you.”
“Are you sure?”
Nat threw back his head and laughed so hard even the nurses outside the room heard him. They came rushing in to check everything was all right.
“Yes,” Eliza said, peering over the nurses’ heads as they hustled him out of the room so they could check her out.
“Yes!” she shouted.
Epilogue
Three days later Juliette Morgan died. The redhead’s face was plastered all over the news for about a day, inextricably linked in death to Andrew DeLattio.
Eliza had watched the news dispassionately. She didn’t mourn her past.
Marsh had been to see her, wordlessly slipping her the spurious remains of a bullet. She knew what it cost him, that simple action. The bullet might have pointed to her, or it might not have, she didn’t know for sure and hoped she never found out. Kissing him soundly on the cheek, she sent him back to Boston and stuffed the bullet in the garbage.
She wasn’t ever going back.
Josie stayed at the ranch, looking more tired and skinny than Eliza had ever seen her. Josie swore DeLattio hadn’t touched her, more than the quick fumble, but Eliza knew something was bothering her. Eliza resolved to get them both some counseling. It was way past time.
The doctors had told her she was stuck here, maybe for weeks. They were weaning her off pain meds and making her walk a few steps every hour. Nat stayed with her for hours at a time, reading, making her laugh, and mentally spending her money. She couldn’t remember ever enjoying her wealth so much and counted her blessings in more than dollars.
Life was good. Nat was great.
Life was great.
Outside the window of the ICU, she spotted Sarah carrying Tabitha in her arms. Cal, Ryan, Josie and Ezra followed in their wake with flowers, chocolates, Just Married balloons and a bottle of champagne.
They came in, rowdily, noisily. Ryan shoved Nat’s legs off the bed, waking him up from an afternoon nap. Nat jabbed him in the stomach, grabbed his niece, giving her a big squeeze. Then Tabitha climbed into bed besides Eliza and began flicking channels with the TV remote.
Tears gathered in Eliza’s eyes as she watched her new family admire her gleaming gold band.
Nat leaned over and kissed her softly on the mouth and whispered, “I love you,” into her ear.
Life didn’t get any better than this.
A word about the author…
Toni is originally a marine biologist from the UK. Now she’s based in Canada raising two kids with the help of her wonderful Irish husband. She loves traveling, reading, drawing/painting, photography, gardening and, most especially, writing.
Visit Toni at:
Visit Toni at:
http://ToniAnderson.shawwebspace.ca
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