Like Arrows (Cedar Tree #6) (38 page)

I lay my head back on the edge of the tub and breathe deeply. One more round of chemo, one more session like this and I can start healing. And as I run my fingers through my hair I feel a large chunk coming away in my hand.

M
al

"Have you guys talked to Gus?" I ask Caleb.

He and Katie hung around Durango for the day and popped in to say goodbye on their way home, but ended up staying for dinner.

I'd made sure Kim was still sleeping, something her body seems to need a lot of these days. I'd found her asleep in the tub when I'd come back upstairs, and carefully got her up, dried off and dressed in one of my old shirts she's taken to sleeping in. Once in bed, her bucket right beside her, she looked up, her eyes shiny. "You're an intensely good man, Malachi, and I love you so much."

Those words carry so much more weight than just their face value. With that one line, she seemed to have wiped away any lingering doubts about whether I'm good enough for her. I'm fucking great for her and I will prove it every day for as long as she'll let me.

When I emptied the tub, I saw the strands of hair she'd left on the edge of the bath and I was hit with a sharp pain. Her hair—her pride—her sacrifice, which seems insignificant in the grand scope of things, but is a poignant, painful loss for Kim. I can clean her when she's been ill, hold her when she feels weak, but that is one thing I can't give her relief for. Back in the bedroom, she'd rolled on her side with her knees drawn up, her head resting right on the edge of the mattress. I crawled in behind her and loosely held her until I heard her breathing even out. When Boo stuck his head around the door after greeting Neil when he returned, all I had to do was pat the bed and the big dog clambered up. He inched closer until his body was snugly against Kim's back and I left them resting together.

"We filled him in. He was as shocked as we were, finding out the Agave cartel was involved. Oil doesn't fall under their usual 'business' interests. Took us all for a loop." Caleb sits back and takes a sip of his coffee before turning to his wife. "How do you feel about staying in town for another night? I'll call and see if Beth can keep the 'kids' a bit longer, but since we're meeting with Gomez tomorrow for a final brief we may as well hang around."

"I'll stick around with you, but I'll call Beth—if I'm lucky, Mattias is still up, I just want to hear his voice," she says, standing up from the table and taking her phone into the kitchen.

The moment she disappears I turn to Neil. "Did you pick one up?"

"Yup. Are you sure about this?" he says, grabbing a shopping bag from the sideboard.

"Sure about what?" Caleb wants to know, leaning forward, elbows resting on the table.

"Ask him," Neil motions to me.

"Well?"

When Katie walks into the room five minutes later, she stops in her tracks, taking in the scene and claps a hand over her mouth. "Oh Mal..."

It's not like I had to think about it for very long. When the idea first popped into my head this morning, my first instinct was to fight the impulse, but it seemed like such a small thing to do. A silent vow of support and commitment. Kim would probably be one of the few to understand it's full significance. Caleb and Katie as well, but the truth is, I hadn't felt the need to carry my heritage like a shield for a while now. And whatever the size of the remaining chip on my shoulder, it was easy to push off.

Katie walks over with tears streaming down her face and runs her hand over my remaining hair. Caleb's reaction when Neil had pulled the necessary tools from the bag had been similar shock, but without the tears. When I put the scissors in his hand and asked him to do the honors, he didn't hesitate to step behind me and make the cut.

Katie eyes her husband who is holding out my hair, still tied together in his fist. It's long enough to be used for making a wig.

"You want to help shave the rest?" I ask her as I point to the clippers Neil is holding.

"Hell, yes." She smiles through her tears as she takes them from him.

K
im

I wake up to an unfamiliar distant buzz, before a wave of sudden nausea has me reach for the bucket. My sudden movement sets Boo, who apparently cuddled on the bed beside me, scrambling off the bed.
False alarm
. I slowly roll on my back and breathe through my nose, trying to will my stomach to settle. With the door open a crack after Boo toddles off, I can hear the deep hum of voices and the occasional laugh. Sounds like Katie and Caleb are here and I wish I was down there with them, visiting.

With a desperate need to pee, I gingerly sit up, trying not to make any sudden moves. I can't help but notice when I finally stand beside the bed, that I left a little nest of hair curled on my pillow. Well shit. Snatching up the clump, I dump it in the wastebasket, relieve myself and run a quick washcloth over my face. I quickly brush my teeth and pull on a pair of yoga pants hanging on the back of the door before returning to the bedroom where I find Mal sitting on the edge of the bed. It takes me a minute to register something is significantly different, and another to pinpoint what it is. As my hand reaches out to the doorpost to keep me up, I'm thinking how funny it is that a change that significant takes a while to compute. His head is bald. So bald, it's shiny. His beautiful hair is all gone.

"Don't worry, I still have it, it's going to Beautiful Lengths campaign. Katie is printing off the donation form." His voice sounds gruff as he holds out his hand.

I automatically start walking toward him, slipping easily between his legs as he holds on to my hips. Reaching out, I run my hand over the smooth warm skin of his head, smiling, before I bend down and press a kiss on his crown. His arms slide around, pull me tight, and his head presses into my belly. We don't need words—I recognize his gift and he feels its importance to me.

Boo nudges his big head, trying to insert himself between us, letting us know he has needs too.

"All right big guy. You want to go out?"

His uncoordinated tail starts whacking me in the leg in reaction to Mal's voice. Grabbing my hand he walks me out of the bedroom and downstairs, Boo trailing us excitedly.

Another surprise waits in the dining room, where the rest of them are gathered around the table. It's not just Mal, but both Caleb who normally has pretty close-cropped hair, and Neil, whose 'do' is more like a surfer, who each now sport a shiny globe as well. I can't help it, I burst out laughing and crying at the same time. Katie walks up to me to give me a hug.

"You know I tried to bribe Neil to shave my head too, but Caleb threatened to hack off his balls with a butter knife," she semi-whispers in my ear. "The butter knife won."

"You know?" I tell them with a watery smile, "You guys make everything so much better. Thank you. I'm blessed and I know it."

-

"L
ast one, babe."

Mal is spreading some aloe gel on the skin of my neck and upper chest with gentle fingers. The skin there is almost purple and hot to the touch from the treatments. Yesterday was my last radiation and chemo will be done after today. I was supposed to be done last week, but the blood counts were a little on the low side.

Today will be the last one. We've been in Durango now for a little over five weeks and in that time I've become almost unrecognizable. My hair is officially gone—the last remaining strands were shaved off lovingly by Mal—my face looks hideously swollen from the chemo cocktail and the rest of my body is pasty and quite a bit slimmer. Mal says he hopes I'll put it back on when I point out the weight loss. He hadn't even really registered the changes in my body and face.

His bald head is sporting a little dusting of fuzz now and when he tried to get me to shave it smooth again a few days ago, I refused.

"Mine will start growing back soon as well—at least I hope it will—and I really like running my fingers through yours"

"You do, do you?" he growled in my ear, which spurned on a whole other reason for me wanting him to keep the slight stubble. Our hunger for the other hadn't really lessened. It was just that it seemed to feed from a need to be as close as two humans could possibly get, instead of lust-fueled passionate coupling. It often started with Mal doing incredible things with his mouth between my legs.

-

"D
on't." His low voice threatens as he looks at me from under his heavy brow, pulling me from my thoughts. "I can hear you thinking and we need to get going. Bags are packed and in the truck and we'll head straight home after that."

Neil had stuck around with us, even after it was clear I was no longer in any danger, and I'd been happy for it. Excited even, to see the initial palpable tension between the two men transform into a solid friendship. I'd grown to love Neil too. In a purely platonic way of course, even though I can't deny the man has a serious hot and flirty vibe going on. No, he feels more like a loving brother to me, someone who is not afraid to show he cares and will always look out for those he cares about

Still, can't wait to get home. My own bed, my own kitchen. My own mesa. Oh, and my Boo. Katie brought him over for a visit last week and I bawled for the first hour. Poor dog was beside himself. I just don't know how I'll manage not having Mal around twenty-four/seven. I mean we've shared more in the last few months than many do in a lifetime but still... I'm sure he can't wait to settle down in a normal routine again—in his own place again. A normal routine, which for me right now is a little vague. I'm sure I'll need some time to get my strength back up but sitting at home twiddling my thumbs is going to get old soon. I'll want to get back on my feet, especially since my savings have taken a hit, being without regular income now for well over two months. There is also my mother in Grand Junction, whom I’d like to go see soon. Britta has kept us updated on her progress, which has been quite steady since the doctors slowly allowed her to wake up. She’d likely be spending a long time in rehab, trying to strengthen her spine and regain as much of her mobility as possible. I feel a bit guilty for not having gone to see her, but I was busy fighting my own fight.

We are meeting Kerry at the hospital. She's been adamant about coming so she could celebrate the final leg of this journey with me. I'm excited to see her, but at the same time a little anxious at her response to my appearance. It's something I haven't really cared about while here. The time has felt like living in a bubble, but going back home is a different matter. I'm not sure I can deal with all the questions and curious glances once I'm ready to resume my life.

When Mal pulls the truck into the hospital parking lot, he turns off the ignition and swings around to face me. "So quiet,
Nizhóní.
And yet I can still hear those wheels turning," he says, running his widespread fingers down my face, as I've come to experience as his signature show of affection.

"Why do you do that? Stroke down my face? Don't get me wrong," I hurry to add when he threatens to pull away his hand. "I really enjoy it—makes me feel...treasured. I'm just curious."

He lifts his hand back and does it again. "My sister used to do that to me. Each time I was angry or sad, or she thought I was frowning, she would run her fingers over my face. Used to drive me nuts. I was convinced she was teasing, but after she died, I...I found I missed it. Missed what it meant—that she could see me. Me. She always did, even when I was a bad-tempered fledgling adolescent, she never lost sight of who I was to her. Took me a while to understand."

His smile is soft and although the pain of his loss is still there, in his eyes, he talks about her with more ease. Allowing himself the good memories along with the bad.

"You see me," I realize.

"Always have, Kimeo."

Warmed with the knowledge, I let him lead me from the truck to the lobby of the hospital where I see Kerry already waiting, her hands clasped in front of her. The moment she sees me through the sliding doors she rushes to meet me, her hug so strong it takes my breath away.

"Let's get this bitch's ass kicked," she says, discreetly wiping at her eyes, but in a voice strong with conviction before she tucks my arm in hers and we follow Mal down the hallway.