Expedition of Love (33 page)

Edwin knew without a doubt that Stephen's love for his daughter was beyond measure. He smiled at the memory of him grumbling incessantly over the last few days.

Kristina's absence had thrown the poor boy into a whirlwind of frustration. He only hoped his friend would survive so he could have another chance at convincing his stubborn daughter how wonderful their lives could be if they took the journey together.

Edwin's shoulders sagged with the painful possibilities. And yet if he died, his little girl would suffer greatly.

Sick with guilt at the sight of his daughter's tears, he lifted himself from the floor of the wagon and moved up front to sit with Antonio. He'd done all he could to slow the flow of blood, and couldn't bear to witness the pain he had caused his daughter.

Kristina swiped her face with her sleeve, but the tears continued to fall. Trying desperately to curtail them, she covered her face with one hand while continuing to cradle Stephen against her with the other.

Fingers wrapped around her wrist, pulling her hand away. She opened her eyes and looked into Stephen's golden gaze. “Stephen?"

He brought her palm to his lips and she sucked in her breath with a sniffle.

"You're going to be fine,” she said, running her fingers through his hair with a quivering smile. He had to be.

"If there is a child, tell him—” His voice was rough and tight with pain.

Her fingers danced lightly over his lips. “Shh. Don't talk. Save your strength."

He squeezed her hand, clutching it to his chest. “Tell him about me. Tell him that I love him.” He grinned. “Or her."

"Please, Stephen, lay still. Save your strength."

Smiling, he lifted his hand and brushed her cheek. “And that I love his mother with all my—heart.” His hand fell away as his eyes slid closed.

"Stephen? Stephen!” She clutched him to her breast and rocked back and forth as her sobs tore through the air.

Chapter Eighteen

Kristina sat numbly beside her father, her gaze on her blood-stained skirt and empty hands. Would that be the last time she touched him? Would she never see him again? Had they been too late?

"He'll be all right, sweetheart. I'm certain of it.” Her father slipped his arm across her shoulder and pressed her limp body to his side.

She couldn't feel anything. It was as though her every breath, every beat of her heart were waiting to hear about him. To know if he still lived.

"The doctors here are very good men,” Antonio said, leaning forward gripping his hat in his hands. “They have saved many lives."

Realizing he blamed himself for what happened, she tried to find words to comfort him, but her voice remained trapped in her throat. All her strength had been sapped from her body the moment Stephen slipped into unconsciousness.

Her father patted and rubbed her arm. “I'm sure we arrived in time."

She looked at his grief stricken face. The memories of another time, another death haunted him, engulfing his normally jolly disposition with helplessness and fear. She wanted to scream, to yell, to blame someone, to beg someone to take away this horrible feeling.

A nun appeared, smiling, and her hopes lifted, but the woman turned to a man sitting across from them and told him of the birth of his child.

Life and death, a constant cycle. Had Stephen's life ended so that another could take his place?

She touched her stomach wondering once again if she carried his child. A child he would never see. The unfairness of it all tore at her soul. “Why, Papa? Why does it have to hurt so much?"

"Love's like that sometimes, my dear."

A coldness settled over her heart. “I don't want it. I don't want to feel this way."

He gave her a trembling smile. “We don't have a choice of whether we love or not. When another person touches your heart, it goes willingly. Your mind can't stop it no matter how hard you try."

She'd been a fool to let her heart make decisions. It didn't know the risks, the danger. But she did, and she wouldn't make that mistake again.

Chilling tears spilled from her eyes. “No. I refuse to feel this way again. I won't."

Her father merely continued to pat and rub her arm.

Stephen opened his eyes to the sound of chattering voices and took a deep, somewhat painful, breath. Disappointment settled on his chest like a thick blanket.

He was alive. And he was alone.

Kristina's beautiful face no longer gazed down at him as his head rested in her lap with her dainty fingers running through his hair. But she was safe—somewhere.

Devastating sadness filled his weary soul. She wasn't there beside him, she would never be there. Gritting his teeth, he wondered why God had spared him. Living without her would be unbearable. The years ahead of him would be long and lonely. Death would have been kinder.

"Ah, you're awake. I was beginning to wonder if you were going to sleep the rest of the week.” Edwin's voice rose above the others, echoing in the large room filled with patients.

His friend's presence lifted his spirits somewhat. “What day is it?"

"Thursday. You've been unconscious for several days, my friend."

Stephen moaned. That meant they had only four days before their time in Argentina ended, and there was still much to do. “The expedition—"

"Is moving along fine. We're almost finished preparing the last fossil for transportation."

"Then what are you doing here?” He couldn't disguise his disgust at not being a part of his own expedition, and that Kristina wasn't there.

"I've come to see you, my boy. I've ridden into town everyday since we brought you in."

Stephen nodded. He wanted to ask about her, but felt the pain constrict his chest at the mere thought of mentioning her name. He wondered if there would ever be a time when his chest didn't feel as though an anvil rested on top of him with thoughts of her.

"The doctor says he will release you in about a week."

"A week?” He struggled to rise. They couldn't go back without him. It was his expedition.

Pushing him firmly back down to the bed, Edwin said, “I know, the expedition will be concluded by that time, but not to worry, my boy. I'll make sure to tie everything up. We'll leave when the doctor says you're fit enough to travel."

Grimacing at the wrenching pain in his side, he managed to mutter a few words. “The university funds—there's not enough to cover the lengthened stay."

"It's all taken care of."

He let out a long breath as the sting of his wound eased. He owed Edwin more than he would ever be able to repay, and not in dollars alone. But he wondered if
we
included Kristina.

Was she back at camp or was she on a ship headed for home? Would she have decided to leave with the rest of the team since their time was nearly ended? Or did she want to be as far away from him as possible? He was the reason she'd left camp in the first place.

His lids drifted closed as her image materialized in his mind's eye. Would he ever see her again? Would he ever feel the softness of her skin, smell the sweet scent of jasmine in her hair?

"Well, I'll leave so you can rest. You've had quite an ordeal,” Edwin said.

Stephen opened his eyes and watched him turn toward the door.

Pausing at the entrance, Edwin said, “I'm glad you're all right, Stephen. You gave us quite a fright."

He forced himself to grin, biting back any questions about Kristina. “Sorry to worry you, my friend."

"Just don't let it happen again,” he replied with a chuckle and disappeared through the door.

Stephen's gaze remained focused on the spot where he'd stood, wishing, hoping she would walk in at any moment wearing that beguiling smile and those outlandish pants.

The seconds turned to minutes and his lids grew heavy, as did his heart. If she wanted to see him, if she cared for him as deeply as he did her, she would be there.

Kristina watched as families reunited with loved ones being released from the mission hospital and felt her throat tighten. She should have gone in with her father to see Stephen, but if he were awake, she didn't think she could face him. Not after the way he told her he loved her and their child. A child she wasn't carrying.

They didn't have to marry now. She wouldn't have to relinquish control of her life and could continue with her career. She wouldn't ever have to be afraid that someday he would leave her with nothing more than an empty space in her chest where her heart had once been.

Her father touched her arm, pulling her from her musings. “Are you all right, my dear?"

She nodded and rose to walk beside him back to the wagon. Wanting to know, needing to know. She asked the same question she'd asked everyday. “How is he?"

"He's awake and on the mend, thank goodness. But I really wish you would go in and see him."

She grinned faintly at the good news. Pausing beside the wagon, she said, “I'm relieved to hear he's finally awake, but he needs his rest, and I'm sure your visit was more than enough. I would even venture to guess that he's already sound asleep, fatigued from your brief stay.” Images of his head nestled in her lap, stole into her thoughts. She wondered if his face still bore that horrid ashen shade.

With an imperceptible shake of her head, she climbed up into the wagon, and settled herself on the seat. Her father climbed in beside her and took up the reins. With a flick of his wrist and a click of his tongue, they began their journey back to the dig site.

"So what did Doctor Baxter have to say?” she asked, her smile somewhat stiff.

"He asked about the expedition."

"And you told him how we're almost finished, I assume?"

"Yes."

"And did he have anything else to say? Or ask?"

"No. Nothing at all."

"Oh. I see.” She clasped her hands firmly in her lap. He hadn't asked why she wasn't there. She couldn't blame him. How could he possibly love her after everything that happened, after she walked away? Now that she knew she wasn't carrying his child, he would probably be relieved. It solved so many problems.

They could go on with their lives, and not think twice about the past. About the nights in one another's arms, the tender caresses, the fevered kisses. They could put it all behind them. She tried to smile, unsure why she felt lost and empty knowing he wouldn't want her anymore.

"No, my dear, I don't think you do see. Your absence was clearly painful for him,” her father said. “I imagine he has the impression you don't wish to see him, which I know cannot be true."

She opened her mouth then closed it and turned her attention to the road before them. Yes, she wanted to see him, but she couldn't. She'd made up her mind not to ever let her heart make her decisions for her again.

He sighed heavily. “Kristina, you can't go on living like this."

A grim frown settled over her mouth, but she continued to stare ahead at the busy street, intent on pushing the haunting visage of Stephen's face from her mind's eye. “I don't know what you mean."

"You most certainly do, young lady. You're pretending you're not in love with him."

"I'm not pretending. I told you the day—” She swallowed down the persistent lump she'd been battling for days. “I told you the day we brought him to the hospital, that I wasn't in love with him."

"No, you said you refused to feel, but you do. We all do, and pretending will not make it go away.” He turned the horses down the road out of town.

Kristina shut out his words. She couldn't feel anything for Stephen, she wouldn't. One feeling would lead to another and another, and sooner or later, her heart and soul would be ripped from her body. Feeling anything for him was completely out of the question.

Edwin growled. “Fine. If you insist on being stubborn, so be it. I wash my hands of the entire affair."

Kristina winced at his choice of words, but kept her back ramrod straight. She did not love Stephen Baxter. She couldn't love him.

Her father squirmed and grumbled for several minutes. She knew he hadn't completed his lecture and braced herself for the next round.

"Kristina Applegate Peterson, you cannot sit there and tell me you don't feel anything for him! Or for me, your mother, or Antonio. It just won't wash, young lady. We love whom we love, like it or not."

"This is different,” she said with a shake of her head. She admitted she loved her parents and Antonio, but those relationships had been forged long before she realized the danger in possessing such feelings.

"I should say it's different. What you and Stephen have is special, and I'm appalled that you refuse to acknowledge it. Too many people go through this world never knowing real love, and here you sit refusing to accept it. He loves you, my dear, and you love him."

Kristina glanced at him as she tried to close the door on the emotions his words clamored to release. “It isn't worth the pain."

"Ah, we finally get to the root of the matter. Well, I have news for you, missy. You're going to be hurting for some time. And every time you hear his name, happen to see him, read one of his articles—and I know you will—you're going to hurt all over again.” He took a deep, thoughtful breath. “I still hurt with the loss of your mother, but I wouldn't trade one moment of my time with her to stop that hurt. Do you understand?"

"No, I don't. Why would you want to feel that way? Like your heart's being ripped out."

"Because the time I had with Anita far outweighs the pain. It was the happiest time of my life.” He cast her a misty-eyed look. “And I wouldn't have you if it weren't for her."

Sliding the reins into one hand, he took hold of hers with the other. “Kristina, think on this. When in your life have you been the happiest? At what moment in time have you felt total complete joy? It happens rarely in this life, but when it does, you cannot forget it."

He squeezed her hand, then took hold of the reins once more. She turned back to the scenery and stared at the plateau's harshness and beauty as she let her mind wander through her memories. She enjoyed the digs she went on when she was a child, but her mother had been absent which tainted the experience.