by Wilde, Lori
Wren peeked over at the house from where she hid behind the barn.
The flames were dying down, having already consumed the gasoline. Perhaps her family homestead would not be completely lost in a fire after all.
But what about Heller? Where had he gone?
Fear returned with a vengeance.
As if on cue, Heller came around the side of the barn, emitting a loud war whoop. Before she could scramble away, he was there, grabbing her hair and pulling her to her feet.
Wren kicked at him.
Heller dodged and laughed grimly.
Wren cursed, using words she’d never before uttered in her life.
Heller clamped his arm around her neck and squeezed. He pulled the gun from his waistband and aimed it at her. “Ready or not, it’s time to meet your maker.”
Wren closed her eyes and prayed. She thought of Keegan and how she would never see him again. Never feel those strong arms holding her tightly, never again taste the honey of his lips, never savor the special experience of making love to him.
“Let her go, Heller.” Keegan’s voice exploded into the fray like a live hand grenade. “She’s got nothing to do with this. Your beef is with me.”
Relief flooded Wren. Tremors of joy raced through her body.
Keegan!
He’d come back for her. Blinking, she squirmed in Heller’s arm, trying hard to get a better view of her beloved.
Keegan stood like a gunslinger, tall and imposing, his hands resting on his hips, a scowl on his handsome face. “You heard me, Heller, release her.”
“Whatcha gonna do, Mr. Policeman, spit on me?”
That’s when Wren saw that Keegan was unarmed. Where was the Magnum? Her stomach plunged to her feet.
They were going to die. Both of them.
“Watch out, Keegan. He’s got a gun!” she cried.
Heller turned and pointed the gun at Keegan. “I’m gonna finish what I started eighteen months ago, Winslow. Prepare to die.”
No! Wren’s brain screamed. Not while she had an ounce of breath left in her. In one quick second, she jabbed Heller hard in the rib cage with her elbow and trod heavily on his instep.
Heller yelped. The pistol jumped in his hand and spat sparks into the air, the noise deafening.
Wren’s teeth came down on her bottom lip. Her ears rang. Her eyes watered. She smelled gunpowder and tasted her own blood.
What happened next passed in a blinding blur. Heller stumbled backward. Keegan lunged forward, knocking the murderer to the ground.
The impact dislodged the gun from Heller’s grip. It flew into the air.
Keegan caught the pistol and straddled the man’s prostrate body. Gripping the barrel with both hands, he pressed the nose against Heller’s chin.
“Just give me an excuse,” Keegan wheezed.
“This is your chance, Winslow. Go ahead, kill me!” Heller glared up at him.
“Don’t do it,” Wren urged. “Don’t give him the satisfaction.”
She watched the emotions play over Keegan’s face—anger, hatred, rancor. She saw his jaw clench, his lips tighten.
“Do it,” Heller goaded. “I can’t go back to prison.”
“If you kill him, then you’re no different than him. Don’t give in to revenge, Keegan. Please.” Wren laced her hands together. “Don’t perpetuate the violence.”
Keegan cocked the trigger.
He’s going to kill him, she thought and turned her head. She braced herself for the shot that never came.
“Get up,” Keegan said hoarsely. “Now.” He marched Heller into the back of Wren’s pickup and hog-tied him with a rope Wren brought from the barn.
“I’ll freeze to death,” Heller whined.
“If you’re lucky.” Giving him a hard stare, Keegan grabbed a saddle blanket from the corner of the pickup bed and threw it over the man.
Wren waited, gently rubbing her injured lip.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“I think so. I got out of the house before I was burned.”
“Let me check you out.”
* * *
Keegan’s gut torqued to think she could have been burned. Tenderly he lifted her hair and surveyed her back and neck. Relief flooded his body when he saw there was no damage to her precious skin. “You’re a little red around your neck and your pretty hair is singed but nothing serious.”
“Oh, Keegan.”
“It’s okay. I’m here.” He kissed her temple, pressed her head against his chest.
She sank against hi,m and he held her for the moment, savoring the feel of her. Then at last the cold forced him to pry himself away. He handed her Heller’s gun. “Keep this trained on him while I go make sure the fire’s out, then we’re going to the police.”
Keegan was nervous about leaving her alone with Heller, but the man was tied securely, and Wren had shown remarkable bravery just now. His chest swelled with pride. She was one amazing woman.
Walking into the house, he was pleased to discover the fire damage was minimal. The newspapers in the entryway still smoldered so he poured water on them. Smoke’s acrid reek wafted up to him, reminding Keegan that this story could have had a much different ending.
He sagged against the refrigerator. Spent adrenaline circulated through his system, causing him to feel jittery and sharp-edged. He didn’t even want to imagine what he would have found had he been only one minute later.
Shaking off the sensation, he made sure the fire was completely extinguished before retrieving Wren’s coat, locking the door, and heading over to join her at the pickup.
He helped her inside the truck. She smiled at him and that simple action warmed him straight to his soul. Although it was only a few miles into Rascal, the ice and snow hampered their progress. Focusing his gaze on the road, Keegan concentrated on the drive, his mind whirling with the things he wanted to say to the woman beside him.
Even before Maggie’s death, he’d never been one to express himself freely and now that he was here with Wren, he didn’t quite know how to go about revealing what was in his heart. Suddenly, he was terrified that she did not feel the things for him that he felt for her.
They arrived at the police station a half hour later. It was another two hours after that before they’d completed the paperwork involved with the arrest and been okayed by the sheriff to leave.
The drive home was silent. Keegan’s anxiety grew. What was Wren thinking? Was she wishing she’d never set eyes on him? Was she filled with regret?
He wasn’t sorry that he’d decided against killing Heller. He was glad he’d been able to relinquish his revenge at the final moment. Yet, he remained uncertain about his destiny. Where did he go from here? Did the future include Wren?
Keegan pulled into the driveway and cut the engine, the headlights illuminating the snow stretched across the ground in a silvery winter wonderland.
“Some Christmas, huh?”
“I’m so proud of you,” Wren said, the tightness in her voice throwing him off guard.
Back there on the road when he’d had his epiphany, everything had seemed so clear, so certain. But at this moment, looking at Wren, Keegan wasn’t so sure.
Did she want him?
Her cheeks were red, her brown hair a wild tumble about her shoulders. Soot stained her neck. Her bottom lip was swollen, but she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He felt tongue-tied and awkward.
“You’re proud of me?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“You’re the unbelievable one. Darling, you were so brave. If you hadn’t elbowed Heller when you did, we’d both be dead.” He reached across the seat to cup her chin in his palm.
A tear trickled down her cheek, but she swiped it away with the back of her hand.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, alarmed.
“Nothing.”
“But you’re crying.” The sight tugged at his chest with an intensity that caused physical pain.
“Tears
of joy.”
“You’re happy?” He frowned, confused.
“You didn’t kill Heller.”
“No.”
“Why not? You had every right. He murdered your family, destroyed your life.”
“I couldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because of you.”
“Me?” She looked into his eyes, and Keegan felt the last chunk of ice inside him melt. He couldn’t hold back any secrets. Not from her.
“You taught me about kindness, Wren. You reminded me what it was like to be human. I’d forgotten. I was so caught up in getting even with Heller that I couldn’t see revenge had turned me into a cold, unforgiving man. Maggie wouldn’t have wanted that for me.”
Wren nodded, pulled away from him, and glanced down at her hands. “You’ve taught me a lot, too.”
“I have?”
“When I met you, I realized there was someone with more sorrows than me. You made me forget my own problems while helping you solve yours, and in the course of that lesson, I came back to myself again. The way I was before my parents died, before my injury, before Blaine took advantage of me and shattered my confidence. You gave me back my joy, Keegan, and I’ll never forget you for that.”
“I’ll never forget you either.” His gut torqued. She was dismissing him. She hadn’t invited him to stay, and he didn’t know how to ask.
“I guess you’ll be leaving soon,” she said, her tone wistful.
“Does that mean you’ve already filled the dairy hand position?” Keegan could hardly contain his grin. She didn’t sound as if she wanted him to leave.
“The position is still available.” She raised her head and met his stare. “Are you applying?”
“I’m not sure if I’m qualified.”
“You know your way around a milking machine. And you’re a deft hand with a welding torch.”
This time he let the grin spread all the way across his face. “I’d be honored if you’d let me stay.”
“Then the job is yours.”
“Are we talking about more than employment?” he asked. “I need to know.”
“Haven’t you guessed how I feel?”
He nodded. “Yeah. But I’m scared. I’ve still got a long way to go, Wren, before I’m back in the land of the living. There’s a lot of old baggage that needs cleaning up. I loved my wife and daughter, yes, but that doesn’t mean I can’t love again. You’ve gotten under my skin, though heaven knows I have done my best to push you away.”
“Keegan... I... please, don’t toy with my heart. I can’t be your tutor, your teacher. I have needs, too.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I know that.” He reached across the seat and drew her into his arms. He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled, identifying her special scent masked beneath the soot and smoke. “I want to meet all your needs, fulfill all your expectations, but at the same time I want to allow you to be your own woman. I made that mistake in my marriage. I always had to be
the strong protector. It was hard for me to accept help. I don’t want to make those same mistakes with you.”
* * *
Trembling with emotion, Wren turned her face up to his and let his mouth tenderly taste her bruised lips. His touch was so gentle, she breathed in a sigh and floated on it, drifting away on their closeness.
All her life she’d dreamt of being held this way, of being cared for and treated with kindness. Keegan’s concern for her was real. Even though he wasn’t yet ready for a deeper commitment, she knew time healed all wounds. Just as her own had healed, Keegan’s would, too.
She was tired of living in the darkness, of being alone and praying for someone special. She was tired of being afraid, of mistrusting men. Neither of them was a stranger to pain. He had loved once, he could do it again. He was here now, and she could wait for him.
Returning his kiss, she squeezed him tightly. “I love you, Keegan Winslow, with all my heart and soul.”
“Wren, Wren,” he groaned. “Help me learn to love again.”
“Yes, Keegan,” she said. “Yes.”
In that moment, she knew that eventually they would both be ready for so much more. The future shone brighter than it ever had before. Her instincts told her they would make it. She looked at the rising sun, shining fresh and new against the snow.
“Merry Christmas, Keegan,” she whispered. And with that heartfelt sentiment, she drew him into her arms and held him close for a very long time.
Chapter 15—Epilogue
The urge to love had grown, nurtured to a roaring blaze by Wren’s quiet attention. Keegan stood on the front lawn, his gaze scanning the area.
It was Christmas Eve again, but this time the weather was a far cry from a year ago. Just as he was far different from that brooding, vengeful man he’d been. The sun shone brightly, and the temperature was a balmy sixty-two degrees.
The yard was decorated with a life-size plastic Santa and nine reindeer pulling a sleigh. Elves peeped from behind trees and around the corners. Over a thousand light strands ran along the house and the fence railing, blinking in colorful harmony.
Keegan looked at their handiwork and grinned. The guests would be arriving soon, and he couldn’t wait to see the expression on their faces when they got a load of the Christmas scene.
A warm, fuzzy sensation enveloped him as he turned to head up the sidewalk. He hadn’t, for one instant, regretted the decision he’d made a year ago when he’d moved into the loft over the barn.
The bucolic environment had a soothing effect on him, reminding him of his past and putting him in touch with his roots. He’d discovered he loved working the dairy more than he’d ever enjoyed police work, and under his care the farm had thrived. Already the herd had grown from seventeen to twenty-five head, and they hoped to add more in the next few months.
He and Wren had courted slowly, dating like any other couple, going to the movies, taking long walks through the woods, sitting quietly by the fire after supper. He picked Wren wild flowers in the spring and had taken her on picnics.
In the summer they sat outside and gazed at the stars. They often stayed up late, talking far into the night.
Every day he awoke with the knowledge that the past was behind him and that he was loved. Each day with Wren grew better and better as he began to appreciate the simple things in life. The sound of her laughter, the touch of her fingers on his arms, the shining expression in her eyes when she looked at him.
The physical attraction between them built stronger and harder until one day in late September, when Keegan didn’t think he could last a single second longer without making love to Wren, he asked her to marry him.
They’d exchanged their vows right here in the farmhouse with Reverend Duvall performing the ceremony and her friends Gary and Savannah Markum as witnesses.
Because of the dairy, they couldn’t stay away long, so the honeymoon had been a weekend trip to San Antonio. It had been the sexiest, most romantic weekend of his life. Even now, simply thinking about Wren’s receptiveness caused a high flush to rise to his cheeks.
He wiped his boots on the welcome mat and then stepped inside the back door. His heart swelled, brimming with joyous emotion as the smells of Christmas teased his nose. Peppermint, cinnamon, pumpkin. Roast turkey, home-baked bread, and apple cider.
A large pot of poinsettias rested on the kitchen table. If he craned his neck, Keegan could see the Christmas tree and the abundance of presents beneath. This year, he’d bought Wren a dozen gifts. Sprigs of mistletoe hung from every doorway and even though it wasn’t cold outside, there was a small fire in the fireplace.
“Honey?” he called. “Where are you?”
Wren stepped from the bedroom, closing the door behind her. She moved down the hall.
Keegan’s heart caught in his throat at the sight of her. She was so beautiful. Wren wore a red velvet dress with black patent leather pumps and the string of pearls he’d gotten her for her thirtieth birthday.
She smiled at him, but he saw there were tears shining in her brown eyes.
“Wren? What’s wrong?”
“I just got off the phone,” she said. “With Dr. Winston.”
His stomach lurched. Not bad news!
“Are you sick?” Keegan asked, rushing to her side and taking her elbow. He couldn’t bear it if something were to happen to her.
“No,” she said, “not sick.”
Keegan stared. “Then why would Dr. Winston call you on Christmas Eve...” He trailed off as realization dawned. “You’re pregnant?”
Wren nodded, her smile widening. “Is that okay? Are you happy? I mean, we never talked about it.”
Elation thrilled him. They were going to have a baby. Sweeping her into his arms, Keegan twirled her off her feet. “I’m ecstatic.”
“I’ve been thinking,” Wren said, after he’d dropped a round of kisses on her eyes, her lips, her cheek, and chin.
“Yes.”
“If it’s a girl, I’d like to call her Katherine Margaret if that’s okay with you.”
Wren wanted to name their baby after the family he’d lost? Love for his new bride spread through his whole system, hot, swift, and passionate. She was so kind, so giving. He thanked God for her daily.
“That’d be wonderful,” he said gruffly.
“And of course, if it’s a boy he’ll be Keegan Junior.”
“Have I ever told you I love you?” Keegan cupped her chin in his palm.
“Maybe a time or two.” Her eyes twinkled merrily.
“Mrs. Winslow,” he growled low in his throat, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to take you into the bedroom and make love to you.”
“But the guests are due in an hour, and I haven’t mashed the potatoes yet!”
“So let them eat lumps.” He nibbled on her ear.
* * *
Wren sighed her pleasure, relieved and happy that Keegan had taken the news of the baby so well. For the longest time, she’d been afraid he wouldn’t want children after what had happened to his daughter.
So afraid, in fact, that she’d never broached the subject. And even though he’d grown and changed a lot over the last twelve months, she’d still worried that something dark and sad inhibited his heart.