It’s only been a week.” Doc Weaver laid his hand on Rachel’s shoulder. “Head injuries are hard to doctor. Mostly, they just need time and rest.”

“But—”

“Patience, Mrs. Langley, he will come around when he comes around.”

“But five days ago, you said it could be any time.” Rachel moved to sit beside the bed and took Donovan’s hand in hers. Worry pressed heavy on her heart.

“I also said it could be next week or next month or…er…maybe much, much longer.”

Much, much longer, Rachel thought, which meant maybe never. She refused the think about life without her husband. If she had to sit by him day and night, if she had to beg him to wake, she would.

Doctor Weaver tugged at his collar, obviously uncomfortable with the conversation. “I should get back to New Dawn. If there is any change, let me know.”

Rachel nodded then squeezed Donovan’s hand and said, “Sully, Doctor Weaver is leaving. Don’t you want to say goodbye?”

Both Rachel and the doctor watched intently when Donovan took a deep breath, but his eyes remained closed. After a moment, Doctor Weaver sighed and picked up his medical bag.

“Keep talking to him. He might be able to hear what’s going on around him.”

Rachel promised she would.

For hours after the doctor left, Rachel talked to Donovan about the ranch, about the bird singing outside their window, about what Nessa was making for supper. When she ran out of things to talk about, she read to him.

Finally, her throat raw from days of incessant talking and her eyes gritty from lack of sleep and strain, her temper snapped. She slammed the book closed, the sharp bang ricocheting off the walls.

“Donovan Langley, open your eyes this very instant!” She stood and marched to the foot of the bed. “I’m tired. I’ve talked. I’ve read. I’ve prayed. And you’re not cooperating. You’re just lying there like a bump on a pickle.”

She looked to Donovan. Nothing.

“I’ll have you know, Mister Lollygagging-In-Bed-All-Day, I have other things to do.” She headed to the door, needing some fresh air.

“Not a pickle,” Donovan croaked from the bed.

Rachel froze, halfway out the door. “Wh-what?”

“I’m not a pickle,” he repeated, his voice raspy. “And I don’t lollygag.”

She raced to his side. “Donovan!”

“Water?”

“Of course.” She brought him a glass of cool water then helped him prop himself up to drink.

“Ouch!” His hand instinctively went to his side where a bandage covered a sizable bullet graze. “What happened?”

Pressing the glass to his lips, she helped him sip water. “Drink and then we’ll talk.”

He drank greedily then fell back on the mound of pillows Rachel propped behind him. “Tell me.”

Unwilling to be too far from him, she sat on the side of the bed facing him. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“That asshole pointing a gun at you.” He scrubbed his hand down his face. Rachel could almost see a memory float through his mind. Frowning, he took her hand in his. “I’m so sorry, sunshine, I didn’t mean a word I said to Carter. I hoped, if he thought I didn’t care, he’d let you go.”

“I know. You told me before you lost consciousness.” She squeezed his hand. “Carter is dead,” Rachel began. Moments later, she’d recounted the event of their night in the clearing.

Still holding her hand, he laid his head back, closed his eyes and sighed. “How long have I’ve been out?”

“A week.”

“Has your father been here?”

“Every night. He’s very concerned for you.”

Donovan opened his eyes and stared at her. She almost melted from the inside out. Honest, pure love blazed in his gaze. “Sweetheart, I told your father who I am.”

“No!” She bolted to her feet. “Why?”

“Saving you was a two-man job. He needed to be completely focused on getting you out of there. I knew going in I’d have to admit to Carter who I was. I didn’t want the surprise of my confession to rattle your father into making a mistake.”

“What is he going to do?” Rachel wrung her hands and paced. “What are we going to do?”

When she paced close enough for him to touch her, he caught her hand and pulled her down to sit beside him. “I promised I’d turn myself in once I knew you were safe.”

“No! You pretend to still be unconscious when he comes to visit. As soon as you’re well enough to travel, we’ll leave.”

Donovan pulled her close, draping her across his naked chest. “I can’t, sweetheart. I gave him my word.”

“Please!” She cried against his shoulder. “Please, don’t leave me.”

Donovan held her tightly against him. “Don’t cry, sunshine, I can’t stand it when you cry.”

“Neither can I,” Ethan Hale admitted from the open doorway.

Rachel scrambled out of her husband’s arm and rounded on her father. “Papa, please, don’t do this.”

“Rachel, calm yourself.” Ethan stepped into the room and closed the door. He nodded to his son-in-law then leaned against the sleigh footboard of the bed. “I have some questions.”

Donovan glanced at Rachel then back to her father. “Ask.”

“How many people know the truth about your identity?”

“The two of you and Nessa. She always could tell Sullivan and me apart.”

“Do you think she’s told anyone else?”

Donovan sat up straighter in bed. “Not on her life.”

An ember of hope kindled in Rachel’s heart. Was her father doing what she hoped?

“What about your parents?” her father continued.

“They’re on their way from Texas.”

Her father nodded. “Are you planning on telling them the truth?”

“Yes, as soon as they get home.” Donovan crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m firm on that.”

“Good, good. Me too.”

Rachel couldn’t stand it any longer. She had to know exactly what her father was planning. “What are you saying, Papa?”

“I’m saying, little girl, the infamous outlaw Donnie Langley was shot and killed by Sam Carter, a Pinkerton agent. Unfortunately, Agent Carter was mortally wounded during the shoot out and died hours later of his wounds. I, Sheriff Ethan Hale, witnessed the altercation and will be sending an official notification of the two deaths to the federal authorities first thing tomorrow morning.”

Rachel squealed as she threw herself into her papa’s arms. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Not so fast. There are still some wrinkles that need to be ironed out.”

“Like what?” Donovan asked from the bed.

“Rachel, you cannot speak the name Donovan, even in private, again. It’s too easy to slip around others.”

“Of course, Papa.” Rachel winked at Donovan. “Sully and I shouldn’t have an issue with that.”

“And lastly,” her father continued. “I want to be there when you tell Patrick and Emma the truth.”

“You don’t trust me to do as I promised,” Donovan bit out.

“It’s not that at all, Sully. I just want to make sure Patrick and Emma understand the consequence of someone discovering our secret.”

Rachel moved out of her father’s embrace. And made a beeline for Donovan. She crawled into her husband’s arms completely unaffected by her father’s presence. “Sully, do you know what this means?”

“Of course, my sunshine.” Sully wrapped his arms around her then crushed her to his chest. “It means we can live happily ever after.”

Rachel barely heard the click of the door closing as she lost herself in their first of many happily-ever-after kisses.