Joshua's Folly (25 page)

One of the bystanders handed him a towel. He held it to her head as it quickly turned red. He applied pressure, firm and steady, remembering that head wounds bleed profusely.

“Marisa…Marisa…” he whispered her name tenderly, his breathing ragged. For some reason the vision of her jumping on his bed in her pink pajamas at two a.m. yelling, “Wake up, Kensington, it’s you and me time!” wandered through his mind. He loved every minute of their two a.m. hot chocolate escapades. Life with her was so…fun. “Marisa…” he said again.

No response. She was unconscious, gone from him, as if she didn’t exist. He wanted her in his life. What was he doing? What made him think he could ever live without her? He wanted to hold her in his arms and feel her heart beating thunderously—the way it often did when they were close—against his chest.
Please live, Marisa.
I promise I’ll never leave you again.

Marisa slowly opened her eyes, pain engulfing her and leaving her gasping for air. “Mom, Dad,” she mumbled, feeling confused..

“It’s okay, Marisa. You’re going to be okay.”

Memories rushed to the surface. It was Josh’s voice, his deep, rich timbre—comforting, soothing. He was here, at her side, and for that she breathed a sigh of relief. For just a moment she’d thought…no, that was a very long time ago. A lifetime ago.

Josh was telling her that everything was going to be okay, attempting to soothe her with words. But it wasn’t okay, it would never be okay again. Josh didn’t want her. He didn’t love her. Marisa moaned aloud—not from physical pain. Josh leaned into the car in an attempt to get closer. The sound of a helicopter permeated the air overhead.

“Help is here, sweetheart. You’re not alone, I’m here with you, baby, and I’m not leaving.”

Josh. He was pale and he looked scared. She’d never seen him look that way before. She’d never seen him lose his cool. Not once. Breaking a vase didn’t count, not in comparison with this.

“Josh,” she whispered. She brought a trembling hand to her throbbing forehead. When she pulled her hand away, it was covered with bright, red blood. “I’m b-bleeding.”

“Don’t try to talk. Save your energy, sweetheart. Everything will be okay, I promise.”

Josh had never used so many endearments. She liked it. She didn’t want to die. She
couldn’t
die, not before she’d had the chance to make love with Josh. She had to survive, she needed to survive, she wanted to survive. She wanted to have children with him, have a life with him. This can’t be the end, she’d hardly had the chance to live.

Really live.

She was so close to home. Just like her parents. Just like the astronaut.

But then she remembered one very important detail. Josh’s ranch wasn’t her home.

It never would be.

When Marisa next awoke, she was in the hospital, filled with only hazy memories of a tense helicopter ride with paramedics poking her with needles and asking her questions she didn’t remember giving them answers to. Josh had been at her side, holding her hand, his anxious expression looming over her. “You’re going to be okay, sweetheart,” he kept repeating over and over again, as if trying to convince himself. Marisa remembered looking into his eyes and wishing his love and concern for her could extend beyond the traumatic moment.

Her head pounded with pain and her entire body ached fiercely. When she tried to move, her eyes shot open. Her left leg was in a cast—from her knee down—and movement caused a swift, stabbing pain to radiate up and down its length. She took in her surroundings; the slow beep of the heart monitor, an IV dripping fluids into her body, a beautiful bouquet of flowers by the window, and then her gaze landed on Josh. He sat in a chair next to the bed, unmoving, and he was watching her with worried eyes.

“Hi,” he said with apprehension evident in every fiber of his being.

He didn’t look well, he appeared almost haggard. His shirt was stained with blood—her blood—and his face was rough with stubble.

Marisa didn’t respond, she simply looked upon him with a furrowed brow. He wasn’t hers anymore, maybe he never had been.

“I’m so sorry, Marisa,” he said, almost inaudibly.

She nodded. They continued to get their fill of each other, the air thick with tension, a myriad of emotions between them.

“You broke your leg,” he said softly. “You have a concussion and five stitches on your forehead. You were very lucky.”

Somehow, she didn’t feel very lucky. While his words were comforting, there was an anxious look in his eyes, a look that would almost make her believe he did have feelings for her. He did care for her, she knew he did, evidently just not enough to commit to a life together. For that kind of promise, you had to be
in love
with the person you were committing to.

And he wasn’t.

Her memory slowly drifted back. The wild ride, being bounced around the truck, thrown about as if gravity no longer existed. The seatbelt was the only thing that had saved her. That and the airbag.

“Mary and Jerome are on their way. They arrive this evening. You should be able to go home in a day or two.”

“Home?”

“To the ranch. The doctor doesn’t want you to travel just yet.”

The ranch was not her home. Josh had asked her to leave. He doesn’t love her. Now he was stuck with her for an indeterminate amount of time as she recovered.

Marisa’s face crumpled and she started to cry. Once she started, it seemed beyond her control to stop.

Josh was immediately at her side. “Marisa, sweetheart, everything’s okay, I promise. Please don’t cry, baby,” Josh consoled.

It didn’t help. Josh called the nurse and she put something in her IV. It was just what she needed—to be sent off into oblivion, to a place where Joshua Kensington adored her and told her he loved her on a daily basis, a minute to minute basis, an every second of every day basis.

Otherwise known as la la land.

It was three days later that she was allowed to leave the hospital. Mary and Jerome had arrived. They were awaiting her homecoming at the ranch. Although they’d spent much of their time at her bedside, she had slept through most of it.

Josh had just arrived to take her back to the ranch and she wondered why he didn’t just let Mary do it. It would save them the awkwardness of being alone. He was doting, albeit restrained. He didn’t touch her or kiss her, he didn’t even hold her hand. That time was over. Neither one of them acknowledged the elephant in the room. She felt horrible, the muscles in her back and neck, tense from whiplash. It was nothing compared to the pain in her heart. She didn’t want to go with Josh, anywhere, mostly because it
was
what she wanted more than anything in the world. As it turned out, it didn’t really matter. Due to the pain medicine, she was far too out of it to even notice the passing of time. He carried her to a brand new truck and settled her in the backseat with blankets and pillows.

One thing was already replaced in his life. She’d be next.

The sight of him made her chest constrict. He felt responsible for her accident and was simply taking care of her out of a sense of duty. That’s all.

“How about some lunch?” he asked quietly after pulling the blanket up to her chin, making her feel like a small child.

She shook her head in the negative. The thought of food made her nauseated. She couldn’t even feel her stomach. She felt like one big, massive, throbbing head.

He drove through a fast food place and the next thing she knew he was waking her up to hand her a soda. He’d pulled over and he held the drink for her as he put the straw to her lips. They didn’t speak. What was there to say? She had to admit, the soda settled her stomach and she drank almost all of it, gulping it down quickly. The simple act took all of her strength. She collapsed back into a deep sleep and slept for the entire drive back to the ranch. The two-hour span seemed to happen within the blink of an eye. One moment he was helping her to drink, the next he was waking her up. He took her into his arms and carried her into the house. Marisa rested her head on his shoulder, while imagining being held by him like this under entirely different circumstances.

Torture.

“Welcome home, Marisa!” Bethany’s little voice squealed excitedly. Mary, Jerome, Bethany, and Constance all greeted her at the door, as if they’d been anxiously awaiting her arrival.

Marisa forced herself to smile for Bethany’s sake, when inside all she wanted to do was cry—and get the heck out of Joshua’s arms.

They lingered in the entryway for several moments in an awkward silence. Then everyone seemed to talk at once.

“How are you, Marisa?” Bethany asked, sweetly.

“You look so much better. Your color is back,” Mary muttered.

“How’s my girl?” Jerome said, patting her shoulder.

“I’d better get her up to bed,” Josh announced.

Marisa acknowledged Josh. “Yes, please. I’d like to lie down.”

Josh took her upstairs and gently placed her in the bed.

I’m back. I’m back at the ranch. By a horrible twist of fate, I’ve returned.

“Can I get you anything, Marisa?” Josh queried as he ran his fingers through her hair, tenderly, surprising her with the physical contact. His fingers traced the contours of her face, gently moving her hair away from her eyes.

“No, thank you,” she answered, avoiding his eyes, wishing he’d stop touching her.

“Marisa…I owe you an apology. I’m so sorry about everything.” His lips brushed her forehead in a soft caress as he laced their hands together.

“Me too,” she whispered. “I’m sorry about your truck. I shouldn’t have taken off like that. It was a stupid and careless thing to do. I’m responsible for…”

“I don’t care about the truck,” Josh interrupted. “I already have a new one. I’m just glad you’re okay. That’s all that matters. Please, I need to talk to you about…”

Apparently noticing movement in his peripheral vision, Josh looked up at the doorway.

“Mary,” he smiled, even though he was unable to hide a flash of irritation at the interruption. “It’s great to have you back. I’ll leave you two to visit for awhile.” Josh kissed her forehead one more time and slowly released her hands. “Rest, Marisa,” he whispered.

Mary and Josh embraced for a moment before he left the room. Marisa did the math in her head. It’s been sixteen years since they’ve seen each other. Unfortunately, it’s taken a tragedy to get Mary to return to the ranch.

Marisa knew from Mary’s expression that she was filled with questions. Josh’s tender ministrations had told her more than words could convey. Little did Mary know that it—whatever
it
had been—was already over, before it had barely even begun.

“Oh…my…gosh,” Mary said succinctly.

Marisa felt the blood drain from her face.

Mary knew.

She waited to be bombarded with questions she didn’t know the answers to. Instead, Mary studied Marisa’s expression, somehow perceiving her inner turmoil.

Quietly, Mary asked, “Marisa…why didn’t you tell me?”

Several seconds passed until Marisa replied, “Tell you what?” Total obvious evasion.

“About Joshua?”

“What about him?”

Clearly a little exasperated, Mary rolled her eyes. Marisa noted the sincere concern in Mary’s eyes, hiding behind her display of levity, and she loved her for it. “Why didn’t you tell me about you and Joshua?”