A Thousand Tomorrows & Just Beyond the Clouds Omnibus (16 page)

“No!” She shot the word at him over her shoulder, and leaned closer to Ace’s neck. “Yah!”

The horse kicked into another gear.
Come on, Ali
. He gritted his teeth and hung on to the saddle with one hand. With the other, he draped the coat over Ali’s shoulders, holding it in place so it wouldn’t fly off. She kept Ace running, flying across the rolling hills and rocky bluffs toward the far end of their ranch. Only when she’d ridden past the cattle, out to the barbed wire, did she pull to a stop.

Without looking at him, she dismounted and walked to the nearest fence post. The coat was still hanging on her shoulders, and she bent over, coughing long and hard. Cody felt the fear rise in his throat. He didn’t have her inhaler, didn’t have any way to help her. They were too far out to get help if she couldn’t catch her breath.

His heart pounded against his chest. “Ali!” He jumped down and headed for her. “Breathe out; it’s okay. You can do this.”

She was bent in half, coughing, gasping for breath. “Cody… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to… to hurt you.”

“Don’t, Ali. It’s okay. I’m here; I’m not mad.”

Her coughing was getting worse. The cold air and exertion must’ve kicked her into a spasm, because she couldn’t catch her breath. She was heading into a full-blown asthma attack, the kind Cody had seen her suffer before. That meant she needed her inhaler, the one back at the house.

Her gasps were more strained now, frantic for air.

“Ali, breathe out. Come on, you can do this.”

But she couldn’t, and he had a decision to make. He could get her back on Ace and go for help, but that would take
ten minutes. Ten minutes they didn’t have. If only she could relax, maybe the air would come.

His hand ran over her back, up and down in small circles. “Breathe, Ali. Please, breathe.”

“I… I can’t.” Her coughing was horrendous now.

Terror filled him, paralyzing his ability to move or think or do anything but watch her fade away. He clenched his fists and shouted into the afternoon wind. “Help me!” His voice was lost among the rustling of pines overhead. “Make her breathe! Please!”

Ali coughed three times, but not as hard as before. She drew in a slow breath; it was raspy, but it was air. A tingling worked its way down Cody’s spine from his neck to his lower back. He put his hand on her shoulder. His voice was quieter this time. “Ali, keep going! Keep breathing!”

“Cody…” She straightened some, her gasps farther apart. Now that he could see her face, the sight of her made him weak. Her skin was pasty gray, her lips a frightening shade of blue. “I’m okay.”

He rubbed her back, leaning into her. “Slow breaths, Ali. Slow and easy. Blow out; you’re getting through it.”

She rested against the fence post, shaky and weak. Her breathing wasn’t normal but it was better. “Thank you.”

He was stunned, speechless. If things had been different, she could be passed out on the frozen ground by now, minutes from death. He shuddered. “Here.” He helped get her arms into the wool coat. “Let’s get you home.”

Their conversation came later that night, when she
was rested and medicated, when all that was left from the terrifying afternoon was the memory of her anger.

They sat on the sofa, and Cody took the lead. “I heard you and your mother.”

She crossed her arms and looked at her lap. “I wanted to tell you.” Her eyes met his. “It was my job.”

“It doesn’t matter, Ali. I know the truth, and guess what?” He slid closer and took her hand in his. “I’m a match! As soon as you’re ready, I’ll give you one of my lungs. And maybe in the years after that they’ll find a cure for CF and—”

“You can’t.” The anger was gone, but she shook her head anyway. “I won’t let you.” She bit her lip, her eyes damp. “You live for those eight seconds on a bull, Cody. I won’t let you give that up.”

“I don’t have to.” He smiled, his tone confident. She couldn’t change his mind any more than her mother could have. He was more convinced with every passing hour. “I called one of the rodeo docs and asked. He said a bull rider could compete with one lung.” Cody didn’t tell her the rest of what the doctor said. Riding with one lung was very risky; it meant less room for error. A punctured lung could be deadly in such a situation.

“But when, Cody?” She lowered her brow. “You can’t take time off during the season.”

“I won’t have to.” He ran his knuckles along her cheekbone. “You feel good, right?”

She studied him, puzzled. “So…”

“So we’ll do the season together next year. When it’s over, when we both have our buckles, we’ll check into the
hospital and I’ll give you a lung.” He kept a calm exterior, but inside he was holding his breath, pushing for her to tell him yes.

“Cody…” She angled herself toward him. “I don’t want you to do it. You need your lungs.”

“Come on, Ali.” A grin tugged at his lips. He brushed a strand of hair back from her face. “We’re talking about Gunner lungs here. One would be better than two on most riders.”

She couldn’t keep from smiling, even if fear still had the upper hand. “You’re crazy.”

“Yes. About you.” He hesitated, watching her, waiting until the fear faded. “I’m doing this, Ali. I’m giving you a lung. I’ve already made up my mind.”

“Cody…” The conviction was gone from her voice.

When she didn’t go on, when she didn’t argue or tell him she didn’t want his offer, he knew he’d won. And with that, his heart shifted gears. He pulled the ring from his pocket. “Ali…” He leaned in and kissed her. “I don’t care if you’re sick, or how many years you’ll get from a lung transplant.” He kept his fingers on the sides of her face. “I love you.”

The fear in her eyes turned to surprise, and the surprise to a sort of joy he hadn’t seen in her since they came home from Las Vegas. “You really do?”

He slid her to the edge of the sofa and dropped to one knee. “I found out something today.” He ran his tongue over his lower lip. “I found out I can’t live without you.” He kept the ring in his hand, tight against his knee. With the other hand, he covered her fingers. “But something else. Ever since
my dad left, my mom has believed that someday I’d learn to let go… that I’d learn to love.” He studied Ali, the picture she made. He would never forget the way she looked, sitting in front of him, healthy and whole. “And now look at me.”

For the second time that night, a smile played on her lips. Her eyes held the now familiar adoration she hadn’t allowed herself to feel since her angry ride the day before. She messed her fingers through his hair. “What am I going to do with you?”

He reached into his closed palm and lifted the ring for her to see. “Marry me, Ali.”

Her mouth hung open for a moment, but her surprise gave way to a certainty that told him all was right with their world. She wasn’t going to run or push him away. It was too late to keep from falling for each other. They’d fallen, and from this day on there would be nothing else.

Here, now, they wouldn’t borrow sadness from some far-off day. Not when they’d found something so rare together. She slid closer to him and put her arms around his neck. “Cody Gunner, I have a question.”

He brought his lips to hers, the gentlest kiss. Then he found her eyes, his voice barely a whisper. “Ask it.”

“Okay.” She watched him, her eyes full of light and love. Her smile started there and made its way to her mouth. “Are you chasing me?”

“Always.” He grinned.

Her smile faded. “Don’t ever stop.” She kissed him with a slow certainty, a kiss that told him she had as much hope
as he had about their future. When she pulled back, her eyes held a strange mix of starry-eyed dreams and smoldering desire. “Now I need to answer your question.”

“Yes.” He pressed his face against hers, holding on to the feel of her soft skin against his. “I’m waiting.”

She giggled and leaned back, looking beyond his eyes and straight to the places of his heart that were no longer closed off. “Yes, Cody.” Her eyes shone like never before. “I’ll marry you.”

He drew her closer, holding her tight not only in his arms, but in his soul. “I love you, Ali.”

Her face grew serious. “I love you, too.” It was the first time she’d said it. But once the words were out, the truth about them filled her expression. “I love you with all I am, Cody Gunner.”

It was a moment that might’ve been marked by tears. But as they kissed, as she held up her hand and let him slide the ring past her knuckle, they laughed and held each other and whispered about what her parents would say, and whether he would even tell his. They cuddled on the couch, talking about wedding dresses and handwritten vows and honeymoons and the future, their eyes clear and dry.

Cody thought he understood why.

The story they were starting was bound to have sad scenes. The ending would be saddest of all. So why not smile and laugh and love as long as they had today? Why not admire her ring and kiss her and hold her, breathing in the feel of her against his chest? Today was no time for crying. Cody
wasn’t willing to lose a single happy moment with Ali Daniels. Soon enough down the road, the tears would come. For now, today belonged to them.

Today, and another year of rodeo, and after that a thousand precious tomorrows.

Chapter Fourteen

T
he Pro Rodeo season started out like the one Ali Daniels had always dreamed about. But even then she had a sense the good times wouldn’t last.

She set a record at the opener in Denver, and took first place at all but two of the first seven stops. But along the way she could feel herself shutting down. Every breath required deliberate thought. Not just the breathing she did in the arena, but all the time, even after a long session in her compression vest.

They carried oxygen in her trailer, and Cody rarely left her side. He was first in the standings, riding with as much fury as ever—all of it somehow directed toward cystic fibrosis. At least that’s what he told her.

At night he no longer stopped by for an hour. He slept on the sofa with Ali ten feet away in her room. She was surprised at the boundaries he kept for them. When their kissing stirred new and unspeakable passions in her, he would
quietly pull away and bid her good night, even if it left them both trembling.

“I’ve done this my way before,” he told her once. “You’re different, Ali. I’d wait forever for you.”

They set a date for their wedding—the third Saturday in May. There were no rodeos that weekend, and so they’d have most of the season to focus on gaining the lead in their respective rankings. The wedding would be small. A simple ceremony outdoors, atop a grassy bluff on her parents’ ranch. Her mom and dad would attend, of course, but she wanted his parents to be there, too.

“Cody, you need to tell them.” She’d bring it up every few days, but he shut down whenever she asked about it.

It wasn’t until a California rodeo in mid-April that Ali saw for herself how angry he was with his parents. The arena was outdoors that week, and Ali was in the stands talking to her mother, the sunshine beating down on them, when a woman walked up and introduced herself.

“Ali Daniels?” The woman fidgeted, casting an anxious look over her shoulder. Behind her stood a young man with Down syndrome.

Ali smiled. “Yes?” She was approached by fans at every rodeo; especially now that she and Cody were an item. Half the time people wanted her to give him a message or have him sign something. But the woman didn’t have the look of a fan, and something in her blue eyes was familiar.

“Ali, I’m Mary Gunner, Cody’s mother.” She held out her hand and gave Ali a nervous look. “I’m not sure my son would want me talking to you.”

The boy behind her, the one with Down syndrome, was that Cody’s brother, Carl Joseph? The one he had talked about? Her head spun and she struggled to find her voice. Why hadn’t Cody ever said anything about his brother’s disability? Ali felt an immediate warmth for Mary Gunner.

“Please”—Ali slid over—“sit down.” She took her own mother’s hand. “Mama, this is Mary Gunner, Cody’s mother.”

“Nice to meet you.” Mary gave them a partial smile. She turned and motioned for the young man with her to take a seat. “This is Carl Joseph, Cody’s brother.”

“I’ve heard about him.” Ali looked around Mary to the young man and waved. He had Cody’s dark hair, but that was all. Carl Joseph’s eyes were brown and deep set. He was thicker, stouter than Cody. “Hi, I’m Ali.”

Carl Joseph raised his hand quickly and dropped it again. He struggled with eye contact, shy and grinning. “Hi, Ali. You’re pretty.”

“Thanks.”

Mary patted her younger son’s knee. Then she looked at Ali. “I got a call from someone in rodeo.” She hesitated. “You and my son are engaged, is that right?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Ali’s heart went out to the woman. She wanted to hug her and apologize for the way Cody had shut her out. “We’re getting married in May. I keep pushing Cody to call and invite you.”

Mary folded her hands and let out a tired breath. “It isn’t me he’s mad at; it’s his father.” She hesitated. “We’re back together now; we remarried over the Christmas break. But
Cody can’t think of his daddy without thinking about how he walked away. He won’t return my calls, won’t talk to either of us.” Her eyes grew damp. “Mike Gunner’s a different man now.”

“Is he?” Ali had wondered about Cody’s father. Whatever the man had done, Cody rarely got specific with the details.

“Oh, yes.” Mary’s smile reached all the way to her eyes. “He’s wonderful, Ali. If Cody only knew…”

“Mary…” Ali’s mother leaned forward so the two could see each other. “Ali has cystic fibrosis. I wasn’t sure if you knew that or not.”

Cody’s mother froze, her mouth open. The news took a few seconds to sink in, but as it did, her shoulders slumped some. Clearly she understood the ramifications of cystic fibrosis better than Cody had. Mary shifted her eyes to Ali, and placed her hand on Ali’s knee. “I’m sorry; I had no idea.”

“We’ve kept it a secret, but not for much longer.” Ali’s mother was stronger now, more accepting of the situation. “Ali has to have a lung transplant. We’re planning the operation for December.”