Ring of Fire (31 page)

Hope flared in her eyes. “What are you saying, Eric?”

“Earlier, I said I was ready, but I didn't say what I was ready for. That's what I figured out this afternoon. I'm ready to leave the army.”

Her hand tightened on his, painfully hard. “Really?”

“I phoned Ellie this afternoon and we had a long talk.”

Lark blinked, clearly surprised by this apparent change of topic, but she kept quiet.

He went on, “I'd been thinking about everything you said on Sunday, but I still had it stuck in my head that the only thing I could be was a soldier. And I knew you and your family deserved more than that. And then this morning, when I realized I truly loved you and Jayden, and wanted to be with you—that I'd be happier with you than I'd ever imagined being—it messed with my mind.”

“Why did you call Ellie?”

“Instinct. And it proved to be a good one. We talked about how Danny died only a couple of weeks before the end of our mission in Afghanistan. He planned to leave the army. He wanted to be with Ellie and their baby. He said that he'd put in a few years of service to his country, and now it was time for his family to be together and be happy.”

Lark nodded.

“Then I told Ellie that I'd met someone, and she had a son, but I didn't see how things could work out for us. And she said . . .” He needed to tell Lark, but, man, it was hard.

“She said?” she prompted gently.

He swallowed. “She asked if I figured I didn't deserve to have the kind of life that Danny had been denied.”

Lark bit her lip and kept quiet.

“I told her that I wanted to make my life count, as a way of handling the guilt and also honoring Danny. She said she was glad of that, but it didn't mean I couldn't also be happy and have a life of my own. She said maybe I owed that to Danny, too. Not to live half a life, alone, as a career soldier, but to live as fully and, uh, joyfully”—the word felt weird on his lips, but it was the one she'd used—“as I could. She said that was what she was trying to do.”

Lark smiled. “I like Ellie a lot.”

“Maybe you'll meet her one day.”

“I hope so.” She squeezed his hand. “These are all good things you're saying, but where is this heading? Seems like it's all been a preamble, and I don't want to get my hopes up, so would you please just arrive at the destination?”

“I wanted you to hear all of that. So you'd know how serious I am.”

“Serious about
what,
exactly?” She sounded amused, but also impatient.

“Let's put together a strategy to get that emergency services coordinator job funded. Because I want it.”

Her lips pressed tight against what might be a curse or a grin, he wasn't sure. She opened them and, thankfully, a smile tugged at the corners. “You want to stay in Caribou Crossing because of a great job?”

He smiled back. “I want to stay in Caribou Crossing because of a great woman. And a great kid. Not to mention the woman's very cool mom. And a fine town and group of residents whom I'd be proud to serve. A job that has a lot of potential and challenge, that fills me with ideas and excitement.” His smile widened. “But really, it all comes down to the woman.”

He touched her cheek, the skin as smooth and cool as the night sky. “This warmhearted, strong, capable, loving, incredible woman. This woman who cracked my heart open, who drew me into a ring of fire like in that Johnny Cash song. At first, the blaze scared the crap out of me, but then I realized that fire isn't only about danger, it can also be about warmth, beauty, joy. About love. I learned that I could love and I could want—hopefully even have—things I'd never let myself dream about before.”

Were those dark eyes of hers misty? Or was the mist in his own?

“Oh, Eric. You can have everything. Together, we can have everything. I love you so much.”

When their lips touched, he believed every word she'd said.

Chapter Twenty-One

A month later, bundled up in heavy clothing as she rode beside Eric, Lark breathed in the scent of winter approaching. In less than a month it would be Christmas. And what a special one it would be, with Eric in her life.

Ahead of them, Jayden chattered to his grandmother, yet Lark noted that he also paid careful attention to Pookie. No lead rein; no side walkers. Her son was turning into an excellent horseman. Her mom, persuaded to climb aboard a horse herself, had proved to be a natural.

“There it is,” Jayden called. “I see Zephyr Lake!”

On this November Saturday, Eric had suggested they go for a horseback picnic. In summer, scenic Zephyr Lake was a popular destination for teens and families. They flocked to it for picnics, swimming, and barbecues, not to mention starlight make-out sessions.

Today, riding toward it, Lark saw that it was deserted. The rough sand beach was empty; the dark water reflected the gray of the sky; the deciduous trees were stark skeletons without their leaves.

Jayden said, “It looks sad. And lonely.”

“We'll cheer it up,” Eric said. He rode past Jayden to take the lead, and pointed to a grouping of several aspens. “Let's tie the horses up over there.”

It was so nice to have Eric back. He'd been away off and on over the past weeks. He'd had to deal with his army paperwork, and he'd met with the physiatrist who headed his rehab team. He had also visited his parents. His mom had shed tears of happiness and said she was relieved that the days of overseas deployments were over. His dad, predictably, had said he was very disappointed. Honestly, Lark wanted to meet the man just so she could whack him upside the head and tell him to start appreciating his wonderful son.

Eric had also spent a couple of days with Ellie and her daughter, Daniela. Lark had spoken to Ellie on the phone, and they were all talking about having Ellie and Daniela come out for a visit. Lark sensed that the two families would grow to be close.

Eric really was coming to feel like an integral part of her own family. He and she hadn't talked about the future in concrete terms, saying only that they loved each other and wanted to be together. She was fine with that, and life would only grow better now that he was here to stay.

They'd have more time alone together. That had been scarce, only a few hours here and there. But she had loved every moment with him, whether he was treating the three Cantrells to a pizza dinner, helping Jayden with his homework, or watching with glazed eyes as Lark stripped off her trench coat in his little apartment and revealed her sexy new lingerie.

She and Eric had also met with Karen and Karen's boss, Jake Brannon. The four of them had put together a proposal to create and fund the position of emergency services coordinator, and to hire Eric to fill it. Fred Dooley, the supervisor of the ambulance service, had endorsed the proposal with a sigh of relief. It was now with town council. Lark knew that most of the councillors were in favor, and she sure hoped everything would work out. Eric had said there were other things he'd be happy doing, such as being a paramedic, but she felt in her bones that the coordinator position was the right thing for him, the career he would truly love.

She'd seen a change in him this past month. Despite all the travel and pressures, he was a more relaxed man.

The four of them dismounted, secured the horses, and loosened the cinches. Eric said, “Jayden and I will go build a fire.”

Lark winked at her mom. “Yeah, because all I know how to do is put them out.”

Eric shot her a heated gaze that said he had a different opinion, and then took Jayden's hand and the two guys walked toward the beach. Jayden, walking. On rough ground. Slowly, yes, and taking support from Eric, but walking. No wheelchair; no walker.

Lark's mother, shorter than her by a foot, moved closer and leaned her head against her daughter's shoulder as the two of them watched Eric and Jayden. “This is good.”

“It's all good,” Lark agreed.

She untied the big picnic rug from the back of her horse's saddle, and she and her mom followed Eric and Jayden to the beach.

“Now, while the men do man's work,” her mom joked, “we women will lay out the food. Who ever thought the Cantrell women would come to this?”

“Eric did supply the food,” Lark pointed out. He had insisted, and he'd shouldered the loaded backpack himself.

Now that backpack rested on the sand beside a fire pit circled with large stones. Eric had taken some newspaper out of his pack, and Jayden kneeled on the sand ripping up the paper, scrunching it, and putting it into the fire pit. Eric had gone to collect twigs and branches.

Lark shook out the rug and spread it, and Jayden transferred over to it, promptly covering it with gritty sand. She shook her head, loving him and this moment too much to scold. Mary had reached into the backpack and pulled out a paper bag, which she immediately stuffed back in.

“Mom?” Lark questioned.

“It's Eric's picnic. We'll let him set it up. Let's be ladies of leisure and stroll by the lake while the menfolk work their butts off.”

“I can get behind that,” Lark agreed. Her life was normally so full of responsibilities, it was a true pleasure to relax and let others do the work.

She and her mother walked along the shore arm in arm, chatting about this, that, and nothing in particular. It wasn't long before Eric called, “Hot soup, anyone?”

The two women turned back to find a cheerful scene, with Jayden keeping an eye on the crackling fire and Eric pouring creamy tomato soup from a thermos into four bowls. As Lark took her bowl, she saw that this was no tinned soup, but rich with chunks of tomato and onion and fragrant with the aroma of basil. Knowing that Eric's cooking skills were of the basic meat-and-veggies variety, she asked, “Where did you get it? It smells great.”

“The Gold Pan. Jeff makes terrific soup.”

“He makes terrific everything,” she agreed as she savored her first spoonful.

With the soup, Eric had a loaf of French bread, kept warmish in foil although it chilled off quickly in the cool air, and a selection of cheeses and cold meats that he'd spread out on a cutting board. They all ate heartily, with Lark keeping an eye on Jayden. It wasn't long ago that he couldn't get a mouthful of soup to his mouth without spilling, but today not a drop landed on his down jacket.

As they ate, they talked about winter coming, and everyone filled Eric in on the various ways Caribou Crossing celebrated the holidays. Predictably, Jayden enthused about what a great Christmas it was going to be.

“I'm trying to talk Quinn into coming for a visit,” Eric said. “But she keeps going on about sunshine and beaches. Jayden, I'll put you on the phone so you can do a sales pitch.”

Mary turned to Eric. “Any chance your parents would come and join us?”

He shook his head. “I don't think so.”

“It's hard,” she said, “when the people who should care the most for us let us down.”

Lark touched Eric's knee as he said, “My father thinks I've let him down.” His tone was more resigned than sad. His father had erected a barrier between them, but at least now Eric had been honest with him, and true to himself. As a bonus, his relationship with his mother was much closer. Lark had talked to the woman on the phone and hoped that, before long, they might persuade her to come visit on her own.

“Your father needs his head examined,” Mary said. “He should be proud of you.” Her deep brown eyes fixed on his face. “As we are.” Lark had been pleased to see how close her mom and Eric had grown. Despite her mother's long-held reservations about the Cantrell females' luck with men, she had welcomed Eric.

“Thanks, Mary. I appreciate that.” He sat up straighter. “And now there's something I want to talk to you all about.”

Lark cocked her head. What now? So much had happened since Eric's first riding lesson and she wasn't sure she was up to facing anything new.

But her mom apparently thought otherwise because she gave Eric one of her knowing almost smiles and said, “Go ahead.”

He looked unusually nervous. “I was going to wait until Christmas, but then I thought, why?” His pack sat beside him, and he reached into it. He pulled out a bag, glanced at it, and said, “Oh, I have brownies. Fudge nut. From the bakery.”

Lark raised her eyebrows. “Was that what you wanted to talk about?”

“Uh, no, of course not.” He put the bag down, unopened, and this time looked into his pack as he rooted around inside. “This. These.” He produced a plastic bag and reached inside. He came up with three small gift-wrapped boxes, and handed one to each of them.

An early Christmas?

“Mary,” Eric said. “You go first.”

Neatly, she undid the ribbon, then the tape, and unfolded the silver and green paper. From the box, she took a gold chain necklace with a pendant made of silver and gold, carved with a First Nations design. Lark leaned closer to see it, and said, “It's gorgeous.”

“Hummingbird,” Mary said. “It is beautiful, Eric. Hummingbird symbolizes love, joy, beauty, and intelligence.”

He nodded. “I know. And friendship, too, which is something I hope we'll always have, Mary. It's also a lucky symbol.”

Her eyes had a knowing gleam as she studied his face. “You think I need luck? Or is it perhaps yourself who needs it?”

“I think I found my luck when I met all of you.” He turned to Jayden. “You go next.”

Unlike his grandmother, Jayden ripped into the package and soon held up a silver pendant on a chain. “Cool. Thanks, Eric.”

“You know who that is?” Eric asked.

Jayden shook his head.

“And here I thought you knew everything about firefighting,” Eric teased.

Lark reached for the pendant and studied it. This wasn't a First Nations design, but a face she recognized. “Saint Florian. The patron saint of firefighters.”

“To always keep you safe,” Eric told her son.

“Oh, man, I'm gonna wear it always.” Jayden leaned forward to give Eric an enthusiastic hug, and Eric hugged him back.

Lark beckoned her son toward her, and fastened the chain around his neck so that the pendant hung down over his sweater.

She had to wonder, after Eric's thoughtful gifts to her mother and son, what might be inside her own box. It was the largest of the three, a square box maybe six inches by six inches. If it was a necklace, too, it must be a bigger one.

“Lark?” Eric said, looking anxious again.

Why was he so worried? If he'd picked out a gift for her, she was bound to love it. Following her mother's example, she carefully undid the wrappings to find a plain white box. She took the top off and found—another box. A much smaller box, with a jewelry store label on it. A box just the right size for—No, she shouldn't even think it. It was probably earrings—though surely he'd noticed that her ears weren't pierced.

“Lark!” Her name croaked out of him as if he were in pain.

“Lark, open it,” her mother said. Glancing up, Lark saw the strangest look of excited anticipation on Mary's face.

Lark flipped the lid back. And saw a diamond ring, a lovely one in an abstract style. A curve of gold looped around a large diamond, holding it securely but not imprisoning it. It was practical, too. A ring that wouldn't catch on clothing, or scratch a child's skin—or a lover's.

No, make that a husband's. “Eric?” Heart racing, she gazed up at him.

His gray eyes, so bright and alive compared to the dull November sky, gazed into hers. “I love you, Lark Cantrell, and I want to marry you. This isn't the conventional way of proposing, but it's not just you I want.” He glanced at Jayden. “I love you, too, Jayden. If I could pick any son in the world, you'd be the one.”

Lark's eyes filled with happy tears.

Eric then turned to her mother. “And, Mary, I would be honored if you would be my second mom.”

He took Lark's hand. “I want all of you. I want to marry this family. I want to love you, be inspired by your courage, and laugh with you. I want to protect you, even though you're all perfectly capable of looking after yourselves. But I'm a guy, it's an instinct: love and protect.”

Lark smiled at him. Oh, yes, he was a guy. A strong man who was finally learning that admitting to his vulnerabilities made him even stronger.

“I want us to be a team,” Eric said. “I want us to build a future together.” He took a breath. “Enough about me. Now I need to know, what do the three of you want?”

He'd barely finished when Jayden yelled, “Marry him, Mom!”

Lark grinned at her son as tears slid down her cheeks. Then she gazed at her mother.

Mary, normally reserved, gave her a warm smile. “Marry him, Lark.”

Lark held out the ring box to Eric, her hand trembling. Smiling at him with all the love in her heart, she said, “I'll make it unanimous. Put this ring on my finger, Eric, and marry me.”

His hand shook, too, when he extracted the ring and held it between his big fingers. When he slid it onto her finger, he said, “I can't wait for this to be a wedding ring.”

“Me either.” She leaned forward and, as they kissed, she lost herself in an overwhelming sensation of not only happiness, but peace. Of homecoming.

The kiss heated, grew intense, until Mary gave a dry, amused cough.

Reluctantly, Lark eased out of Eric's embrace. She held up her left hand, admiring the ring. He'd fooled her with the deceptive wrapping. Remembering her mom's look of anticipation, she asked, “Mom, did you know about this? Did you help him pick out the ring?”