Christine

The metallic taste of blood tainted my tongue. Crap! I’d bitten my cheek. But the ache blooming in my heart soon overshadowed the sharp pain in my mouth. Did Travis understand what he was saying? That he was with my only because the other woman had disappeared from his life?

“Travis, please.” Stop talking. He shook his head. “She’s very special to me and I’ll tell you about her sometime. But I’m with you. I want to be with you. She’s never going to be an issue between us.” He pressed his lips to my palm. “I know who I’m with, too, Christine Willow.”

I regarded him in silence, caught like an animal in the glare of oncoming headlights, unable to move, unable to do anything but wait for the disastrous impact that could only bring death. Yes, he knew who he was with; knew he was with his second choice… and had just admitted that fact out loud. The fist around my chest slowly squeezed the air from my lungs.

He moved his mouth to my wrist where he pressed tiny kisses. “Sweetheart… you’re amazing… you’re beautiful… you’re everything I never knew I wanted and never hoped I would find. Never deserved to find. The dream of her is nothing compared to the reality of you.”

I blinked. Had he really just replaced those looming headlights with sunshine and rainbows? I must be out-of-my-head crazy. How could I believe him? Did he even really know what he wanted?

He held my hand against his cheek and I looked into his eyes, promptly tumbling into the vulnerability he revealed for me. I still had all the power. I held our future. Could I live with the revelation that I was his second choice? In a sudden moment of perfect clarity, I recognized my own weakness; nothing mattered because I didn’t want to live without him.

I inhaled deeply, drawing in the spicy woodsy scent of him that had become so familiar. I slid my hand around to the back of his neck and played with the soft skin at his hairline. Almost in slow motion, I advanced, hesitating just a hair’s breadth from touching his lips. Travis remained still, waiting, I understood, for me to make the next move.

“Will you hold me tonight?” I brushed my lips across his, just a hint of a touch. “I just need some time.”

“Darlin’, take as long as you need and I’ll hold you for as long as you let me.”

* * *

I awoke to find the room cloaked in darkness. Whispers and rustles of stealthy movements jolted my heart rate and I rolled over. Warmth and a woodsy scent clung to the sheets. Travis. I eased out a breath, alarm replaced by curiosity. “Where are you going?”

“Shh… Go back to sleep.” He laid a tender kiss on my forehead, brushing back my hair. “I’m going to help Grant with the stock. He’s been doing it all on his own for too long.”

I moved up onto my elbows and pushed the switch on my bedside lamp, blinking as the light cut a path to my optic nerves. “Let me help.”

But Travis shook his head and turned the lamp back off. “No, go back to sleep. I’ll be by later. Promise.”

“I don’t—” I didn’t want him to leave. I didn’t want him to leave without me. But he seemed determined to go back to the ranch alone and it wasn’t fair to push.

He bent and nuzzled my ear and then kissed me, slow and deep. “Bluebell, in case I forgot to tell you,” he whispered, pulling away, “I’m real glad you decided to come to Wyoming.”

Then he was across the floor and out the door, closing it behind him with a soft click, and I was alone. As usual. Doubt edged its way back into my consciousness. Would Travis ever really love me the way he loved his mystery woman?

* * *

The aftershocks still rocked the building. He had to be feeling them, too.

“Still here, Angel,” he assured me after a strong jolt.

I let out the breath I’d unconsciously been holding.

“Listen,” he said, enunciating the word with care. “I’m not —giving up. But I want you to promise me something. Can you do that?”

“Maybe.” I lost the battle to keep my voice steady.

“I was thinking about the song you sang for me. I want you to live, Angel. To really live, like the song says. Whatever happens here or —doesn’t, I want you to promise you’ll do something you want to do. If you like singing, I want you to sing every day. If you want to travel, promise me you’ll travel. And if you want to settle down, do it in a place you love. With or without me, I want your life to be good.” For the first time in a couple of hours, Mick’s voice was steady and strong. “Can you promise me?”

I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath. The request was obviously important to him. “Yeah, I can promise that. Mick, is there someone I can call for you?”

He was silent for a long time. “No. There’s no one. But thanks anyway, Angel. And thanks for staying with me.”

“I like talking to you. So get used to me. I’m sticking.” As a wave of exhaustion hit, I pulled off my sweater and balled it up on the desk, leaning into it and using it as a pillow.

The radio squawked again.

“Mick?” I shoved the sweater aside and sat up straight, rubbing my eyes.

“Yeah, it’s me. Angel? They’re not coming for me, are they?”

“They are, Mick. They are, I promise. But there’s a lot of building to get through.”

“It’s okay, Angel. We’re trained for this. Have to be realistic here. I smell smoke and it’s getting stronger. I don’t think the fire’s contained. And I’ve got no O2 left in my tank.”

“They are working on it, Mick! You have to hang on. If you give up, you —just don’t give up. Hold onto me.”

“For long as I can, Angel.”

“You stay! And when they get you out, I’ll be waiting for you! I keep my promises, Mick.”

“Make one more promise, then. See Wyoming just once.”

“We’ll see it together when you take me,” I said. “You can show me all the best places.”

“But if I’m not with you, see it anyway, okay? I know you’ll love it there. And think of me when you see it the first time, okay? Promise.”

“Promise.” Tears rolled down my cheeks, hot, stinging drops plopping onto the fists I pounded into my balled-up sweater.

* * *

I came awake with a start. Memories of a night filled with perplexing secrets and feelings of being cherished surfaced. For once it wasn’t the man in my dreams plucking at my emotions. It was something —or rather someone else, someone very present in my life.