Marshall’s shoulders squared and he said, “They’d have to get through all of us first, Dad and Garth and me. Gus, Sean, Quinn, even Wy. But even Tish thinks if that was the case, the fire would have been started in the trailer, not the barn. Destroying the barn was a message to them to back off, quit investigating, that’s what. But your sister is stubborn as hell, and Case is even worse. They won’t back off, especially now.”
I knew this was true and it scared me.
“I will do everything in my power to protect them,” Marshall reassured me, studying my face. “I love them both, I hope you know. Case is my brother, even if we don’t share actual blood. He’s my best friend. And your sister is his true love.”
For a second I just looked silently at him, struck by his use of this phrase. It moved me deeply. He tipped his head, just a little, questioningly, certainly wondering why I was staring speechlessly at him, and at last I agreed, “She is.” Quickly I added, “Thanks for being here for them.”
“Of course,” he said quietly. We were leaning so far towards each other that we almost could have kissed. Almost.
“I want to be here,” I said intently, struck by this truth. “I want to help, if I can.”
I was not mistaking the quiet joy in Marshall’s eyes as I spoke this, I knew I was not. He was someone who was rather good at underreacting when he felt the situation required it, I already knew, but I could still see he was made happy by these words.
“Then stay,” he implored softly. And my heart burst out of its hot, tight confinement and beat furiously.
Our food arrived then, and the server clacked the overflowing plastic basket unceremoniously on the table, effectively cracking through the intimate little bubble that had been surrounding us. She said cheerfully, “Enjoy!”
“You choose first,” Marshall said graciously, nodding at the food.
“Thanks,” I murmured. The chicken was fried to a perfect golden turn. I picked the first piece I saw, starving.
“Breast,” he observed, back to teasing now. “Good choice.”
He made me laugh so effortlessly. I shook my head before I made a show of biting into it. I said, mouth full, “It’s delicious.”
“Oh, I believe it,” he said back, with relish, his lips shiny as he dove into the chicken along with me.
“Thanks for letting me come with you today,” I said after we ate in silence for a minute. “It was good to get out of the hospital for a little. I hate to say that. I feel guilty for wanting to get away. Tish is there all the time…”
“If I could make her take a break, I would,” he said. “But you know as well as me that she won’t.”
“Mom tried to get her to go to the Carters’ and sleep for a few hours yesterday,” I said. “But Tish just about bit her.”
Marshall snorted a laugh. He said, “I admire her for it though. When Case wakes up, she’s the first person he wants to see, trust me. I have a feeling he will soon, I just do.”
“I hope so, oh I hope so,” I said. “It’s killing Tish to see him this way and I hate it.”
“I know,” he said. “We’ll finish up and get back there, what do you say?”
“Yes,” I agreed, suddenly exhausted.
Marshall paid for our food and it was chilly outside; again I resisted the urge to clutch his arm and cuddle to him as we walked across the parking lot. Instead, I hugged myself around the middle.
Back inside the cab of his truck, he turned up the heat and said gently, “You’re tired, I can tell. If you want to sleep, you go ahead. I’ll get us there.” Then he reached behind the seat and pulled out an old flannel blanket. It smelled a little like motor oil, but I was chilled enough that I didn’t care. He said, “Here, sorry, I don’t have my sweatshirt. You’re not really dressed for the cold…”
“Thank you,” I told him, wrapping into the blanket at once. My arms and legs had goosebumps.
“That seat tips back a little, but don’t unbuckle the seat belt,” he said. “It’s too dangerous.”
“You’re tired, too,” I said, studying him. He’d started the truck but hadn’t put it into gear. The sun had set while we were in the little diner, though the rose-gold afterglow still lent the air some light. I asked, “How much farther do we have to drive?”
“A good hour or so,” he said. “But I’m fine, don’t you worry.”
I tucked the blanket around my shoulders and snuggled into the seat; my belly was full and I was warm, and Marshall was close by. Close enough to touch, even if I couldn’t touch him. My eyes drifted shut. My last conscious thought was, I wish I could lean against his shoulder.
Chapter Five
I was dreaming that I was in a field of fireflies, overcome with awe, a prairie somewhere at dusk. I watched in silence, smelling the sweet prairie grasses, whose scent always seemed most potent at night, hearing our horses in the background. I was anchored to this place by a contentment, an almost aching happiness, as I heard him coming behind me. I turned as fast as I could, just to see him, to put my eyes upon him…
Sweetheart, he said softly. My sweet Patricia.
He cupped his hand upon my face and at that instant I came awake to the reality of the hospital room, disoriented, blinking into the dimness before my heart sprang to absolute delighted life; Case’s hand was actually on my cheek.
In the next instant I was on him – as close to being on him as I dared — my hands shaking. His eyes were open. They were open. I had never been flooded by such relief in my life.
“I’m here, I’m right here,” I wept, stroking his face, his hair. His beautiful cinnamon-spice eyes held fast to mine, full of love and tenderness and a thousand questions. Words poured out of me, along with tears, as I insisted, “I’m right here. Oh God, oh Case, you’re awake. I’ve been so scared…”
He made a sound, unable to speak around the ventilator, but I understood, bending to kiss his face, breathing against him. He reached both hands and touched me, cupping my jaws. I curled my hands around his bandaged forearms, so deliriously happy to feel his touch. For the first time in over a week, I felt as though I could draw a full breath.
“I love you,” I told him intensely, my voice thick with tears, and he held me tightly with his hands. He made another sound, low in his throat, and I drew back enough to see his eyes. I whispered, “You’re all right, baby, it’s all right. It’s been almost a week since the fire.” I hurried on, “Cider and Buck are safe. You saved them.” His fingertips moved to caress my cheekbones, my lips. I said at once, “I’m all right, I’m just fine. I promise you.”
“Oh Jesus, thank God,” Marsh was saying from behind me, suddenly in the room from out of nowhere, and his voice was all choked up, too. He came close at once and put both hands on Case’s chest, gently, unashamed as tears trickled over his cheeks. Marsh said, “We’ve been so scared. Tish saved you, she saved you from the fire.”
“I didn’t get hurt,” I was quick to insist, as Case’s expression registered his horror at what he was surely picturing – me in danger, risking myself. In his auburn eyes I saw all of the questions he wanted to ask, the strain and worry, but above all else his love for me. It flowed between us, strong and fierce, and I turned my face to his right hand, kissing him, as he held fast to me. I gripped his wrists, though carefully, mindful of his bindings.
“She dragged you out of that barn,” Marsh said, his voice hoarse, scraping tears from his face with his knuckles. “We’ve been so worried, buddy, Jesus Christ, we’ve been so fucking worried. Tish hasn’t left your side.”
Case tried to say something again.
Immediately I asked, “Are you hurting, baby?”
Case shook his head, though weakly, and threaded our fingers together. I brought our joined hands to my mouth, kissing the backs of his hands, his beautiful strong hands that were at last holding mine again. I told him intently, hardly able to speak past the jagged lump of emotion in my throat, “Don’t ever scare me like this again. I’ve been so scared.�
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Were you hurt? he asked me without words, moving one hand to touch my shorn hair. His overwhelming concern drove into my eyes.
“I was on oxygen for a little over a day,” I explained. I said softly, “My hair burned away. But I don’t care. You’re safe. I don’t care about anything else.”
“They’ve been investigating at your place,” Marsh went on, settling onto a chair and tugging it close to the bedside. To me he said, “Oh God, Ruthann is going to be so happy. She’s with me, Tish, we just got here but she had to go to the bathroom.”
Case reached and simply tugged the ventilator from his face. His skin was raw-looking, stubble thick on his jaws, and he drew a painful breath, and then another, his chest rising.
“Tish,” he rasped out before saying anything else, and put his hands possessively around my face. He whispered roughly, “Tell me you’re not hurt.”
“You’re awake,” I said, my hands on his chest. I was so grateful that my limbs felt weak. I said intently, “Nothing can hurt me anymore.”
“Sweetheart,” he said, his voice hoarse and painful. “I dreamed of you…all this time.”
“I kept talking to you the whole time,” I told him. “I was so scared. I tried not to be, but I was.” Now that he was awake I was ready to collapse, to simply let him comfort me. I choked on another wave of sobs as I said, “I’m so happy to see your eyes open, you don’t even know. Oh Case…”
“Come here,” he whispered authoritatively, knowing what I needed. Immediately I climbed onto the bed beside him, as carefully as I was able.
“You’re gonna get in trouble,” Marsh warned, only half-kidding.
“I don’t want to hurt you…” I said, aligning myself next to Case, the bed railing digging into my back.
“Come here,” Case whispered again, moving carefully to the side, tucking me against his chest with one arm beneath me, the other cupping my head to him. I clung and shuddered with sobs, and he held tightly to me, kissing my hair, my forehead. When I shifted, concerned that I was putting too much weight on his arm, he whispered, “Don’t move, sweetheart, you’re not hurting me. I need to feel you.”
“Case,” I whimpered, my eyes closed, my hands fisted around the material of his hospital gown. I couldn’t seem to get ahold of my tears, weeping against his chest.
A nurse came bustling, making concerned clucking noises.
“Mrs. Spicer!” she squawked.
“He’s awake,” Marshall explained unnecessarily, and I heard him stand up. I kept my eyes closed, emotionally drained, unwilling to let go of Case. I thought if the nurse attempted to move me, I would deck her.
“It’s all right,” Case assured the nurse. He held me closer still and insisted, “I’m just fine.”
“It’s wonderful that you’ve woken, but you’re still far from all right. And right now we need to do a full examination,” she said, and I imagined her standing with hands on hips. She insisted, “Mrs. Spicer, you need to get up, please.”
I did with great reluctance and Marsh helped me carefully from the bed. The nurse told Case, “Your wife is a stubborn woman, no offense.”
He smiled at this and agreed, “That is a fact.”
Marsh and I were forced to leave the room while two nurses and the on-call doctor did their work; in the hallway we leaned against the stark white wall beside the door, both of us emotionally and physically exhausted, nearly equal parts. Outside the window at the end of the row of doors, the sky was black with nightfall.
“Thank you for being here,” I told Marshall.
“He’s my best friend,” he said simply. “You’re his woman. I love you guys. I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
“Thank you all the same,” I said, and caught sight of Ruthie stepping off the elevator, just beyond Marshall’s shoulder.
“Is everything all right?” she asked at once, fear in her voice; she saw the tears on my face.
“It is,” I assured her as she raced to us. I sank into my little sister’s arms.
“Case is awake,” Marshall explained.
“Oh thank goodness,” she said, rocking me side to side. “I’ve been so worried.”
I drew away and swiped at my eyes. Ruthann smoothed hair back from my face; the short strands were clinging to my damp cheeks. She was dressed in jean shorts and a sage-green t-shirt with daisies on it, something from our teenage years. Her hair was wild, tugged hastily into a bun with bits of hay in it, curls drifting down her neck. She looked sweet and beautiful, and so relieved, and I couldn’t help but notice, despite everything, that Marshall was studying her as though he wanted to eat her up in one bite.
She didn’t appear to realize this and he caught himself, abruptly running a hand over his face and then touching my upper arm gently. He said, “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna call Dad and the guys. He’s probably still driving home, huh?”
I nodded and then impulsively hugged him. I wanted to tell him to go for it with Ruthie, even knowing it was not my business. But I squeezed him tightly and tried to send my thoughts into his mind. He drew away and kissed my forehead before heading down the hall. When I looked back at Ruthann, she was now the one studying him, though she darted her gaze away from Marsh the second I looked her way.
“When did Case wake up?” she asked me, leading me to a grouping of chairs. I sank into the closest, Ruthie beside me, and she took one of my hands in both of hers. She was warm and held me tightly. Sometimes it still struck me to see my baby sister so grown up. In my mind she was only about thirteen, freckled and skinny, wanting so badly to tag along with me, to be involved in whatever I was doing. Though Ruthie had always been more mature than me, in many ways.
“Just a little bit ago,” I said, my eyes roving to the door to Case’s room, aching to be back at his side. “Oh, Ruthie…”
“I know,” she said, patting my hand between both of hers. “I’m so glad. Marshall had a feeling, he did just now when we were eating dinner.”
I sagged backward against the chair and said, “Oh God, it’s been such a long week…”
“When will they let him come home?”
“No one has said yet,” I told her. “Hopefully soon. I haven’t even been back out to our place.”
“I got to meet your horses today,” she said, and giggled a little. “Wy is so funny. He just goes on and on, you’d think no one ever listened to him before. He barely pauses for breath. And the horses are just beautiful.”
“Wy must have stayed home?” I asked, belatedly realizing that he wasn’t with.
“He did,” Ruthie said. “He had a headache and stayed at the house. Marshall and I had a…good talk on the way here though.”
I glanced curiously at her, wondering at the little pause, but before I could ask the door to Case’s room opened and all my attention snapped there.
“Your husband is asking after you,” the doctor said, and I nearly shoved him out of the way.
Case was sitting up now, the bed angled to allow this. I flew to his side and the same nurse ordered, “Not on the bed!”
“Yes, on the bed,” Case said. His tone was teasing even though his throat was still raw, his voice painfully rough. He curled his hands around mine as I sat near him, unable to take my eyes from his face.
“I can go home probably sometime later this week,” he told me, and tears welled in my eyes. My shoulders drooped with relief and he said tenderly, “Come here, baby,” drawing me close. I clung to him, not caring that there were three strangers here to observe me fall to pieces. Case held me tightly, stroking my hair. I was against his chest, where I needed to be more than anywhere on earth, and I thanked all the powers that be for this gift.
“We’ll have you return for at least two follow-up appointments in the next few weeks,” the doctor told him. “And the less you talk for a few weeks, the better. You’re going to be healing for quite some time.”
I felt Case nod. I wanted to scream at them to leave us alone. After a few more instructi
ons, they finally did. As the door clicked shut, I lifted my face and kissed his chin, getting my arms around his neck and caressing his hair, studying his face as though I had not seen him in months. I’d scarcely looked away, but he’d been unconscious, so frighteningly still. To see him awake, his beautiful eyes open and full of love, to hear his voice and feel his touch was a greater gift than any I had ever known. I said softly, “Hi, baby.”
“Mrs. Spicer,” he greeted me, tracing a thumb over my bottom lip as he loved to do. I shivered and he grinned at me, despite everything, the worry over the fire and what we’d lost in the blaze, the likelihood of proving unequivocally that Derrick Yancy was responsible. For now, I was content to take things a moment at a time. He asked in his hoarse voice, “Did we get married while I was unconscious?”
“I wish,” I said, letting my fingertips stroke his familiar features, his chin, coarse with days’ growth of beard, his soft lips, his cheekbones and jaws. I kissed his mouth and whispered, “You taste like mint.”
“They helped me brush my teeth,” he said. “I think maybe moss was growing in my mouth.” He paused for a second and drew a deep breath. He whispered, “And my heart valve…Jesus, baby, that scares me. The doc explained what they did.”
“I’ll take care of you,” I told him, hammered with love for him. It flowed in my blood and buzzed along my nerves. I said, “Oh Case, I’ll do anything you need. Anything. And it was good that they caught it – that’s the blessing in disguise here. But oh, I’ve been so scared.”
Just the expression on his face told me everything I needed. Brushing his thumbs over the shadows beneath my eyes, he whispered, “You haven’t slept, sweetheart. Patricia.” My name on his lips was so precious. He held my face and studied me intently, as though he still couldn’t fully believe that I was his, and that we were together at last. He kissed my lips, soft and sweet, and then tipped his forehead to mine. I held him fiercely. He whispered painfully, “The doctor told me what the EMT said that night. You dragged me from that barn. You went in there and risked your life.”
Until Tomorrow Page 9