Return to Marker Ranch (20 page)

“Nice?” He ran a hand through his short hair, a gesture of pure frustration. “I wasn't trying to be nice. I love you. I want to marry you.”

He turned toward her, and their bare legs brushed under the blanket. She shook her head and grabbed her jeans. Needing something between her and him.

“That's not a marriage proposal. It's an apology.”

He stared at her in confusion. “Help me out here...”

“You're proposing because you feel bad about what happened when we were teenagers, right? You're trying to make up for what you said to me, and how you left in the morning after we spent that first night together. You want to make it up to me somehow.”

He looked genuinely distressed. “I don't mean it like that. Nothing would make me happier than knowing I get to spend my life with you. I thought it would make you feel better about us if I told you now. If you knew how serious I was.”

She couldn't be mad. Not when his intentions were so good. But she was disappointed that their golden afternoon was tarnished. “That's nice. But asking someone to spend the rest of her life with you has to be more than nice. It has to be passionate and forward-looking and...” She paused. How to explain when she was just figuring this out herself? “You only recently found out about what happened between us. But I feel like I've been living with one foot in the past every day since college. And when you first came back to live here, I was so angry. Because it felt like the past was taking over everything. But I think you coming back, and me telling you what happened—I think it's actually been healing me. And helping me finally move into the future.”

“I'm glad,” he said.

“But for the first time, I don't feel totally defined by getting pregnant. And it feels good. It feels new and bright and hopeful and easier than it's been. So I don't want you to propose to make up for what happened in the past. Because then my life—our lives—are
still
defined by that. If you want to marry me, it has to be because you are ready to step into the future with me.”

He was quiet. She pulled her jeans on, slid her feet into her cowboy boots, and he sat, just watching her. His eyes dark with some emotion she couldn't read.

“I need to get back to the festival. To pack up the booth. So I'll go on ahead and get the dog,” she told him. “Meet me at the truck?”

“Sure,” he said quietly.

She started toward the path, then glanced back. He was still sitting in the gorgeous bed he'd made for them, watching her go, his mouth set in a grim line. She went back to him, knelt down and kissed him gently on the mouth. “I loved being with you,” she told him softly, looking him in the eyes. “And by proposing, you were trying to make me feel safe, and it was so very sweet of you.” The afternoon breeze gusted, sending aspen leaves drifting over them like golden snowflakes. Like bits of hope that she wanted to grab on to and tuck into the pockets of her soul.

* * *

W
ADE
WATCHED
THE
leaves plummeting down through the woods around him. The breeze sent them whispering before they fell, each rustle a little piece of the truth in Lori's words. She didn't want reminders of her past. He'd been enough of a reminder when he first showed up at Marker Ranch.

He'd thought to reassure her today, to let her know his intentions. But instead he'd dragged her backward in her healing.

They were
both
healing. In the past couple of weeks he'd been so focused on dealing with his PTSD that he hadn't thought much about what she was going through. But she was right. She'd changed so much just in the weeks since they first laid eyes on each other again. He could see it now. How much softer she was. How often she laughed now. The way she'd forgiven him so quickly for pushing her away on their date. The way she'd adopted the dog who needed her, and not the kind of dog everyone would expect her to have. How she'd danced with him in front of the whole town with that little dog in her arms. She'd let go of a lot of the emotional weight she'd been carrying—and he'd just handed it right back to her.
Nice one, Hoffman.

He grabbed his T-shirt and pulled it over his head. Got dressed as fast as he could and bundled the blankets together. He tossed them on the back porch as he ran by. He'd straighten them up later. Right now he needed to get her back to the festival and help her clean up the booth.

Lori was right. They had no more time to dwell in the past. They had a future to get to. And once he'd joined her there, his feet firmly planted on the ground, he'd ask her to marry him again. Maybe then he wouldn't have to hear
no
for an answer.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

W
ADE
WOKE
UP
in the dark, gasping for breath. Vigilant, he went up on his elbows and scanned the room. It was his room, but it looked different. Smelled different. How? Why? Every sense was on alert, scanning for danger.

He remembered, and the tension drained out of him. He'd painted the room a clean white. Tossed out all the ancient battered furniture and bought brand-new, clean, modern pieces. For Lori. For them. A surprise she'd loved. He'd created an oasis in the run-down ranch house. A token room fixed up, a reminder of what the place could be someday.

She shifted in her sleep next to him. She was here, warm and sweet, curled up after making love to him for hours. Like she'd been almost every night for the past couple weeks. He wasn't in the desert. Guns weren't firing. He was breathing. No dying. He covered his face in his hands, wanting a drink of water, not wanting to wake her.

As if sensing his distress, she woke. “Wade, are you okay? Did you have a dream?”

Pride would have him lie, but he was learning that pride wasn't his friend when dealing with PTSD. Honesty was. “Yeah. I think I'll get some water. Would you like some?”

“Sure.” She sat up, pulling the sheet to her chin. Reminding him that she was naked under the crisp new down comforter. It was still mind-blowing to ponder. Lori Allen, here in his bed. Naked. He jumped up, needing to get the water, needing to get back to her.

In the bathroom he filled two glasses under the tap and drained one. Refilled it. Splashed cold water on his face, relishing how it brought him into the present and pushed the dream away.

Back in the bedroom, she lay like a sexy angel with her hair spread out around her on the pillow, her eyes solemn on his. “Are you okay?” she asked. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

He had told her about his dreams a couple of times. But it left a bad taste in his mouth when he made his troubles hers. He hated filling her mind with images she didn't need and shouldn't have. They were his to wrestle with. “Nah,” he said.

“Then how can I help?” She took the water he offered and drank deeply as he set his glass on the nightstand and climbed into bed.

“You should get your sleep.”

“What if I don't want to?” She set her glass down and turned to face him. Kissed him softly, then deeper, pushing the nightmare further away with every touch of her lips. Because she was light, she was sweetness, she was what he'd always needed. What he needed more than ever now.

She seemed determined to show him that he was okay. She ran her mouth over his again and then started down his neck with little nibbling kisses that almost hurt with their ferocity. That tugged him into the present, back into the reality that was so much better than his dreams. He closed his eyes and let her kisses bring him back to life, gasping when her mouth traveled over his abs, grazed his hipbone and wrapped in velvet softness over his erection.

“Lori.” This was new between them.

“Shh... Let me try. I'm not great at this.”

Her mouth was firm and soft all at once, sliding over him, gripping him. “Oh, yes you are. You really are.”

He couldn't believe she was doing this. He was so damn glad she was. He was losing control, but it wasn't like the dreams that terrorized him. This was heat and melting muscles and all his senses focused on her mouth, the touch of her lips, her warm mouth enclosing him, pushing him over the edge. He could lose control like this.

The pressure was building. She was making him insane. “Lori,” he gasped. “I need to...” He expected her to pull away, but she did the opposite, holding him by the hips to steady him, taking him in hungry gasps when he careened over the edge into welcome oblivion.

When it was over, he hauled her up and held her to him as close as he could, burying his face in her neck to say thank you.

“Let me make you feel that good,” he whispered, his mind already considering all the possible ways that he could.

“No,” she whispered. “Not this time. This time was just for you.”

“You're sure?”

“Go to sleep,” she said, curling on her side behind him, cradling and protecting him. And to his surprise, he did sleep. And it was long and deep and dreamless.

* * *

W
ADE
LOOKED
AT
the crowd gathering on Main Street. Anxiety prickled his skin, and he turned to Lori. “I don't know if I'm up for this.” He glanced at her, afraid of the disappointment he might see in her eyes. But there was nothing but love in those blue depths. The love she'd shown him every night for the past few weeks. Even when his nightmares scared them both, she'd stayed there in his bed, holding him. Making it better.

“You can do this, Wade. I know how strong you are. I know that you are bigger than your thoughts, bigger than the stress.”

He gave her a skeptical look. “Have you been reading my PTSD book?”

She laughed. “Busted. But seriously, it doesn't matter to me whether you walk in a parade or not. I'll celebrate Veterans Day with you however you'd like. But I know it means something to you.”

God, he hated that he was so weak. Ethan and the other guys were standing around chatting, drinking their morning coffee like it was nothing. And he was shaking at the thought of walking down Benson's Main Street to celebrate the time he'd given to his country.

He'd survived. He had to do this. He owed it to the guys who hadn't come back, who didn't get to be veterans because they hadn't lived through the war.

He flashed back suddenly to a godforsaken spot in the mountains of Afghanistan. They'd parachuted in. Three men in his unit had died that day. He could crumple at the memory and go cower on his ranch, or he could walk in this damn parade for them.

“Give me a minute, okay?”

Lori nodded, squeezed his hand and went to stand by the sidewalk rapidly filling with people out to support the local veterans.

But would they support
him
? Or would he walk down Main Street accompanied by cold stares and snide comments from the people his family had wronged?

Sweat broke out and ran down his back.

“Hey, Wade, how ya doing?” Ethan put a hand on his shoulder. “You up for this?”

“Doing okay.” He took a deep breath. He could do this.

“I know this is weird for you. But if you ask me, which you didn't, you need to look this town in the eye and show them that you are your own man—different from your dad and brothers. You don't have to walk today, of course. But I'm a little worried that if you don't, you'll regret it.”

He would. It was time. He'd come back here to claim his family's ranch and his spot in this community. If not now, at this parade, then when?

“I'm good. Thanks, Ethan.”

“Well, let's go, then.” Ethan grinned and gave him a bracing nudge with an elbow. “Stick close to me. I've held this veteran title a lot longer than you. I'll show you how it's done.”

“Right. Lead the way, big guy.”

A few veterans were in uniform, but Wade was relieved to see that most of the men were just like him. Clean jeans and boots. He'd pulled on his army sweatshirt against the chill.

A couple of older veterans kicked off the parade in a convertible mustang. Then a group on motorcycles rode in formation, their sputtering engines running riot over Wade's nerves.

When a noise feels bad, name it for what it really is
, Dan had taught him. “Motorcycles,” Wade whispered. And it helped.

Then the high school marching band got started with a rousing if slightly ragged rendition of “God Bless America.” And after that, all the folks on foot started walking. Vietnam veterans marching together. A few from Kosovo. Iraq veterans and Afghanistan veterans marching in one big group, because somehow the borders of those two wars were blurred into one big mess.

Wade found himself next to a man just a few years older than he was who rolled down the street in a wheelchair. “My name's Greg,” he said when Wade asked. “Lost my legs to an IED in Iraq.” Greg had learned some tricks in his chair and pulled a few wheelies, much to the delight of the onlookers. “God bless America,” he said to Wade as the crowd cheered, and Wade couldn't tell if he was being genuine or sarcastic.

Wade wondered whether he'd even be able to joke like that if he was in Greg's nonexistent shoes. How would he feel? He'd gotten off so easy. His wounds were on the inside, in his brain. Technically he was still as able-bodied as the day he'd enlisted. He was one lucky guy.

Someone blew on some kind of trumpet, and Wade just about jumped out of his boots. His wounds might be on the inside, but his skin was still too thin to protect them. He wanted to believe he was getting well, but every sudden noise was a reminder that he wasn't yet.

He heard Nora call his name. She was in front of the Downtown Grocery with Todd, who was barely visible behind his big camera, snapping photos nonstop. Nora was waving a flag and dabbing at her eyes. Crying. “I'm so proud of you, Wade!” she yelled.

And he glowed inside at her words. She'd raised him, been there for him on every leave, even moved back here to help him when he embarked on his crazy plan to resurrect the ranch. He felt like maybe, by walking in this parade, he was repaying her just a little.

And then Lori showed up by Nora's side, waving at him before she gave his sister a hug. He realized what she was doing. She was quietly making her way down the sidewalk, just behind him in the parade, staying out of his way, but there for him if he needed anything.

He kept marching, eyes ahead for a few minutes, and then glanced over to test his theory. Yup, she was there, just behind him, on the sidewalk, saying hello to a couple with a little boy. He felt like rushing over to hug her, or doing some kind of happy dance, or yelling his thanks to the big sky. True to her word, she was there for him. He might be damaged, he might be weak, but she didn't care. She had his back. And with her, he could face just about anything.

* * *

L
ORI
KNEW
SHE
was probably hovering. Okay she
was
hovering, but this parade was important to Wade. It also presented so many challenges, from noise to unexpected movement to just being in a crowd. Wade seemed strong and tough on the outside, but she'd spent almost every free moment with him these past couple weeks, and she knew that underneath the strong, steady exterior was a soul in turmoil. From the way he started at any unexpected noise or movement to the way his dreams destroyed his sleep, she knew now how desperately he needed someone to look out for him. Even though he'd never, ever admit it.

If he had a hard time, she wanted to be there to help. So she tried her best to stay near him but out of his sight. The upside was that she got to watch him for the whole parade, and she was proud of him. He looked perfect out there, marching with Ethan and some of the other guys she knew. Self-contained, but with the slightest swagger in his step. Owning his survival and what he'd given to his country.

The parade ended at the courthouse lawn, and she stood with Nora and Todd, waiting for Wade to finish backslapping with his buddies. “You must be proud of him,” she said to Nora.

“I am. And Lori, if I can just say it, I'm thrilled you two are dating. I can't tell you how happy it makes me.”

She blushed, scarlet probably. “It makes me happy, too.”

“He's always had a thing for you,” Nora told her. “He idolized you.”

This was news to her. “Well, I think we always liked each other.”

“I feel like I owe you an apology, though,” Nora went on. “I pulled him away from you, really abruptly, that summer he moved to Reno with me. I was furious with him. And scared. He'd been getting into a lot of trouble. My dad and brothers were getting more into drug dealing, and I was so afraid they'd drag Wade down with them, too. He wanted to stay in Benson at least a few weeks longer, to spend time with you. I made him leave right away.”

“You were looking out for him. I don't blame you.”

“It was a hard time for Wade,” Nora went on. “And he told me he didn't handle the goodbye very well.”

It was old news, old drama, but it helped to know that he really had missed her. That he'd regretted his cruel words to her. “Thanks, Nora. I appreciate you telling me.”

“And now I have to ask you a favor.”

“Of course.”

“I travel a lot for work. Todd tries to check on Wade, but between the machine shop and dealing with his horses, he gets really busy. You'll keep an eye on him, right? And if anything seems off, you'll let me know?”

“Absolutely. Give me your phone number.”

Lori had just finished adding Nora's phone number into her contacts when Wade walked up, a wide smile on his face that Lori recognized as relief. Making it through the entire parade was a big victory for him.

Todd snapped a few photos of him until Wade said, “Enough! You're making me feel like it's my first day of kindergarten or something!”

Nora laughed and gave him a hug so enthusiastic it had Wade staggering backward. “Easy there, sis,” he gasped as she squeezed him tight.

“I'm so proud of you.” She was wiping away tears now. “So proud that you got out there today and showed everyone how amazing you are.”

“I don't know about that,” Wade said, typically modest. “I am just glad I made it through without doing anything too crazy.”

“You did good.” Todd clapped him on the back and then gave him a brotherly embrace. “You even got me teared up. Though not like your sister. Jeez. Next year we're bringing a box of tissues.”

Wade guffawed, and Nora smacked her fiancé gently on the shoulder. “Happy tears. And you were a little more than teared up. You could have used a tissue, as well.”