Small-Town Dreams (36 page)

The bales were tumbling amid the shouts of the men as they ran for cover. Jeff did the only thing he could think to do. He pulled her toward his chest and lurched out of the chair and over the side, causing it to overturn as they fell toward the ground. Bracing his arms around her like a safety cage, he hovered over Hope, protecting her beneath his body as the weight of the bales bore down on him.

Then it was over, and silence reigned.

“Jeff!” He heard Cole call from what sounded like a great distance. He was aware of the weight of several hundred pounds of hay on his shoulders and back. Thanks to all his exercise and probably gallons of adrenaline pumping through his veins, Jeff was able to stay on his forearms while the men pulled the bales off him. Fortunately, the overturned chair somehow kept the load off his legs.

Jeff blinked, trying to clear away the gritty hay dust and tears. Finally his vision cleared, and to his horror he saw that Hope lay still and pale beneath him.

“What nitwit thought this up?” Ross bellowed from above them. Jeff heard several voices answer at once as the men clamored to get through the hay to him and Hope.

It all seemed to be happening at a great distance, though, as Jeff’s concentration remained fixed on Hope’s motionless form. He could feel her shallow breathing but it did little to calm his thundering heart. He braced her head between his palms and talked to her, encouraging her to open her eyes, but she didn’t respond.

One single horrifying thought paralyzed him as no fall from a horse ever could. What would he do if he lost her? He’d been facing a similar loss for months, but at least he’d have known she was alive though out of reach. And wouldn’t that be a stupid waste? a quiet voice whispered.

“Are you all right?” Ross asked as the weight of the last bale was lifted off his back.

“It’s Hope,” Jeff said, not taking his eyes off her still features. “She’s unconscious. A bale hit her before I could pull her out of the way. Somebody call nine-one-one.”

Jeff saw his tears fall onto Hope’s face and realized he was crying. But for the first time in his life he didn’t care who saw his pain. What good was pride in an empty life? He’d been so absolutely stupid about everything. Suppose that bale injured her spine? What if she wound up like him? Would he love her less? Think less of her or need her inner strength and gentleness any less? Would
he
hesitate to marry
her
because she was physically limited? Of course, he wouldn’t! Then why had he thought she should feel differently toward him?

Pride. He’d never let anyone see his pain. He’d presented facades to the world lest someone else find him wanting. Only with Hope and occasionally Cole had he shown his real self, and even then he’d hidden his most private feelings. He’d been a fool. Pride was an empty emotion full of self-pity and ultimately loneliness.

“Oh, please, dear God, don’t let her be hurt!” he cried. Ross and Cole hunkered down next to them then. Cole reached over to check her pulse, and Ross put a hand on Jeff’s back as if trying to brace him for bad news. “Don’t take her from me,” Jeff begged the Lord whom he’d known so short a time.

“Her pulse is fine,” Cole assured him. “She’s probably just taking a little snooze to scare us all.”

“And there’s an ambulance on the way. Let’s get you back in your chair so Cole can take a better look at her,” Ross suggested.

He knew her father was right, but he couldn’t make himself move. Fear held him paralyzed more than his injured spine ever had. “I was so stupid,” he sobbed, looking at Cole. “I told her we were only ever going to be friends. I didn’t want to tie her to me while I was like this. Why was I so stupid?”

“Because you’re a man and I’m told by my sister that we’re all stupid,” Cole explained patiently. “Now come on and let’s get you up.”

About to acquiesce, Jeff saw Hope’s lashes flicker. “Hope, sweetheart, can you hear me?” he whispered, his throat tight with fear and raw with tears.

“Of course I can hear you. You’re two inches from my ear,” she muttered.

Jeff breathed a sigh of relief and, still holding her head between his hands, dropped his forehead onto hers for a long moment and closed his eyes in a quick prayer of gratitude.

Cole reacted to Hope’s smart remark and snickered, dropping his head onto his arm where it was braced on the ground, his shoulders shaking in relieved laughter.

Ross chuckled, too, and smacked Jeff on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you back in your chair before she slugs you for hovering. Hope hates it when people hover.”

Jeff still couldn’t let go of his precious burden, nor could he drag his gaze from hers. Instead he balanced his weight on one forearm and brushed some hay off her cheek. He tried to smile, afraid his somber mood might frighten her, but he couldn’t get the sight of that tilting pallet out of his head. Of the bales tumbling. Of her standing so vulnerable beneath them.

He could have lost her so easily, and still might. He’d been so stubborn, telling himself it was okay to break her heart with a lie about his feelings for her because she was better off without him. He’d been wrong, and now he didn’t know how she felt about him anymore.

He’d been so awful in those first days. Had she seen a side of him that had killed her love? Was she still at Lavender Hill because of guilt? Mere friendship? Or love?

Because of his pride, he didn’t know.

But then Hope answered Ross’s banter. “That depends on who’s doing the hovering,” she whispered and reached up to caress Jeff’s cheek, a loving smile brightening her face.

Jeff leaned down and gave into the wants and needs he’d denied for months. He cupped her cheek and brushed her lips with his once, twice, then he kissed her with all the love he felt in his heart.

Why had he fought this for so long? Where was the loss of pride in this? Where was the selfishness he feared would take over his soul if he took what she offered? This was all about beauty and need and desire. This was life at its most pure. This communion of spirit could be nothing less than a love sent by God.

H
ope put her feet up on the sofa and stared at the lights of the main house. She thought over the day, hardly able to take it all in. It had started with Jeff and his incredible surprise in the exercise room and had ended with him kissing her, as Cole said, “Before God and everyone.”

Then the paramedics had arrived, and she hadn’t spoken to Jeff again. After checking both of them over for injuries, the technicians had decided they should both be taken to the E.R. because she had lost consciousness and because of Jeff’s previous serious back injury.

It was a precaution, they had assured Jeff, and his protests to the contrary that he was fine, they had insisted on transporting both of them. Her last glimpse of him being strapped onto a backboard and loaded into an ambulance felt frighteningly like a rerun rather than a simple case of déjà vu.

That was the last time she’d seen him. Cole had brought her home, relaying the message that Jeff’s shoulders and back were badly bruised but so far nothing else had turned up. Though he’d apparently protested that he had suffered no other ill effects from his heroic actions, they’d still insisted he wait till his neurologist could see him. Dr. Chin had arrived and decided that to be on the safe side he’d like to do a CAT scan, so Jeff and her father were still at the hospital.

It frightened her to think of Jeff putting himself between her and hundreds of pounds of falling hay bales. He could so easily have been injured all over again. And it would have been her fault for wandering where she hadn’t belonged.

She closed her eyes and lay her aching head back, listening to Cole rattle around in her kitchen. She had only a slight concussion, but Cole wouldn’t go home. She wanted him to. Desperately. When Jeff got home, she didn’t want her sardonic brother there teasing him about that kiss. It had been too special to make light of.

That kiss had been a moment out of time that she would revisit and cherish to her dying day. She’d awakened to Cole’s voice, then Jeff’s had come from a mere inches away. She’d thrown the wisecrack back in answer to his question before she’d identified what it was about his voice that sounded odd. She’d forced her eyes open then, her concern for Jeff overriding her foggy state. It had been an utter shock to have the tears she’d thought she heard in his voice confirmed.

Jeff had breathed a deep sigh then and dropped his forehead onto hers, his eyes closed. He’d held her so gently. So protectively. Then Cole and her father tried to get him to let her go. He’d pulled back a little but then his gaze caught on hers and held them both suspended in a place and time of their own for long moments. She’d watched in fascination as he’d battled some inner demon while her father and brother tried to lighten the moment with teasing banter. Nervous suddenly about what was going on inside Jeff’s head, she’d chimed in, too. In doing so, however, she’d given away her feelings for Jeff to anyone who’d cared to listen.

And Jeff had apparently listened, responding to her confession in a surprisingly wonderful way. He’d kissed her. And what a kiss it had been! Hope no longer doubted his love but she had no idea what he planned to do about it. It was like his effort at standing that morning. A first step on a new branch of a long road with no guarantee that he’d ever make it to that ephemeral final destination.

Cole preached cautious optimism, and she agreed in principle. A simple kiss couldn’t be as monumental as it felt to her. Jeff had probably kissed hundreds of women. But for some reason Hope was still elated out of all proportion or sense.

And she wanted to see him. She wanted to find out if that kiss had been one in a million or just one of hundreds. If it had meant as much to him as it had to her. If it had opened the floodgates to the affection and chemistry she’d felt flow from him to her the night of the Valentine’s dance party and that day before his accident.

Memories of those hours had sustained her all these lonely months, and now she had one more memory to tuck away for her dreams.

Cole tiptoed into the quaint little parlor and stood watching his little sister sleep the sleep of the innocent. Jeff was a lucky man. Cole hoped that kiss meant Jeff was ready to reach out and grab the brass ring. Women like his sister didn’t come into a man’s life every day.

In fact, Cole was nearly sure women like Hope were an endangered species. Though he hoped he’d be smart enough to run the other way if he ever ran across one, Jeff had better not try it. The truth was that Cole didn’t even really know who
he
was, so there was no way he could commit himself to another person. But Jeff Carrington had better be good and ready, because slugging a man in a wheelchair was going to go against one of Cole’s basic rules of life. If, however, Jeff had raised Hope’s expectations only to send her into crash-and-burn mode, as her brother, that was exactly what he intended to do to his best friend.

Cole turned as the front door opened and his father came quietly in. His stomach instinctively tightened.

“How is she?” Ross whispered.

“A little headachy. I gave her something for it.” At his father’s sharp look Cole gritted his teeth. “Acetaminophen, Dad. I know she isn’t a horse.”

A look of chagrin crossed his father’s face, which was progress, in a way. “Sorry. Jeff checked out fine. He’ll be doing therapy in technicolor for a while but, considering the alternative, I’m mighty grateful he put himself in harm’s way. You think it’s okay to leave her alone?”

Cole nodded, trying not to show his surprise that Ross had actually solicited his medical opinion. “They said her concussion was extremely mild, so yeah. I asked Curt to stop and check on her every once in a while tonight.”

Ross nodded and stared at Hope. “So you think I’m going to have to punch out Carrington or is he going to come up to scratch?”

Cole chuckled and opened the door, reveling in the moment of camaraderie. “You’ll have to stand in line if he doesn’t. He may be tough to catch, though. I’ll bet he had that chair going twenty-five miles an hour this afternoon.”

Jeff watched Cole and Ross drive past on their way home. He swung the chair away from the window and rolled across the hardwood floor to the mirrors, then wheeled away and back to the window. He stopped in the middle of the room on the fourth pass and chuckled. Pacing was certainly easier in a chair.

He should just go to her, tell her he loved her and ask her to marry him. But he’d promised both Cole and Ross that, unless he could walk, he wouldn’t tell her how he felt. Of course, now he knew he’d been wrong and they hadn’t asked for his promise in the first place. In fact, unless he’d misread Ross, he was going to be pretty annoyed if there wasn’t a wedding in the offing. And soon.

So what was holding him back? He’d admitted to himself it had been pride that had held him back till now. Jim Dillon had been right. Hope didn’t need physical strength in a husband. Jeff was still the same man he’d been before his accident and before he saved her this afternoon. He was still physically limited. He still wanted her.

But does she still want you? What if you misread her response to Cole? Her smile? Her part in that kiss?

Jeff heard the questions and knew immediately what the tightening in his gut meant. He was afraid she felt only pity for him. No. He was afraid he’d killed her love months ago acting like such a jerk. But if he let that fear stop him, what was really stopping him was his pride again.

His mind made up, Jeff showered, dressed in khakis and a sports shirt then headed to his office. It took some doing to pull himself up so he could open the safe, but he was determined to do at least this on his own. It wasn’t pride, though. He just didn’t want anyone else to know before Hope what he intended.

He made a grab for the jewel case and dropped backward into his chair when his hand closed around the velvet box. Heart pounding, he let out a tired but elated breath. Then he opened the box he’d stuffed in the safe years ago after his parents’ funerals. He rooted through the gold and platinum, bypassed a string of pearls, a sapphire and diamond tennis bracelet and ignored scores of other high-priced baubles that his mother had favored. He was looking for his grandmother’s engagement ring, a simple one-carat solitaire that had been in his family for generations.

He found it, and a helpless smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. It was perfect for Hope. Simple. Delicate. Elegant. Now if she would only accept it. And him.

He was halfway through the house when it struck him that his stomach was jumpy with nerves. It reminded him of his first date. He smiled, unable to remember the face of that long-ago young girl. The only face he could recall at that moment was Hope’s.

His stomach did a flip, and he remembered another date—another day he’d been nervous. He’d been headed over to go riding with Hope—the ride that had shattered his world.
Please, Lord, let this turn out better than that date.

Date!

He’d never even taken her on a real date. The brunch at the Dupont had started out as one but he’d turned it into a business luncheon by asking her to be his partner, so Jeff figured it didn’t count. Here he was about to ask Hope to marry him and he’d never even taken her on a date.

Jeff looked at the ring. It couldn’t wait. He couldn’t wait.
He
grinned. Today was June third. If she agreed to marry him, he’d take her on an official date every June third for the rest of their lives to make up for the oversight.

Just let her say yes, Lord. I don’t want to live without her.

He was at the door to the homestead house in minutes, the ring on his pinky and a bunch of flowers he’d swiped off the breakfast room table in his lap. The lights were on in the parlor, and he could see Hope curled up and asleep on the sofa. He turned away, disappointed. He hated the idea of waking her. Halfway back to the house, he stopped.

This couldn’t wait. He turned back.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” he called through the open window before he could change his mind.

Hope sat up like a bolt of lightning had struck nearby and looked around, confused.

“I’m outside,” he told her. “Are you up to coming out here so we can talk? It’s a nice night. We could sit in the rose arbor.”

Hope agreed and arrived not long after he did. She’d changed into a soft peach-colored lounging set that wasn’t quite pajamas and not street wear, either. She looked like peaches and cream and good enough to eat in the low exterior lighting. Jeff swallowed—hard.

“It’s a pretty night,” she remarked as she drew nearer.

“Not half as pretty as you. These are for you.” He handed her the flowers, the stems wrapped in paper towel. “How’s your head?”

Hope looked at the flowers, puzzled. “Thanks. My head’s fine.” She smiled. “How’s my hero?”

He grinned at that appellation then sobered. “Nervous,” he said truthfully.

Hope sat heavily on the stone bench. Clearly alarmed, she reached for his hand. “The CAT scan showed more damage?” she cried.

Jeff shook his head and took her hand in his, fighting the urge to yank her into his arms. “My back’s fine,” he said. “It’s my heart.”

“Your heart!” she yelped.

Fighting a grin, he nodded solemnly. “Uh-huh. I lost it. It happened months ago, but I lied so no one would find out. So
you
wouldn’t find out. I can’t hide it anymore, though.” He could almost see the truth dawn on her sweet features.

“You can’t?”

“Nope.” His heart contracted at the longing in her eyes. He couldn’t draw this out any further. “I love you, Hope.”

“You love me?”

“With all my heart. And I don’t want you to leave. Not permanently, anyway. Just till after the wedding.”

Beginning to regain her composure, Hope raised that adorable imperious eyebrow. “Wedding?”

Jeff pulled the ring off his pinky. “Will you marry me, sweetheart? Will you come be my love as well as my partner?”

Hope was tempted to pinch herself. Could she still be in the homestead house, asleep, dreaming her heart’s desire? She looked around the flagstone garden and at the latticework archways of the rose arbor that surrounded them. She felt the stone bench beneath her. The cool late spring air. This definitely didn’t feel like a dream. Jeff was sitting there looking hopeful with the most compelling look in his eyes.

“You love me?” she asked, checking her facts. “You want to marry me?”

“If you love me. And if you’ll have me. Is that so hard to believe?”

“You said I was like a sister to you.”

Even in the low light of the garden lanterns, Hope could see his silvery eyes glitter. “I’d get arrested in nearly every civilized country in the world for feeling this way about a sister.”

Still holding her hand, he pulled her to her feet and into his lap. Then he kissed each of her fingers, holding her gaze captive. Warmth spread through her from her fingers to her toes.

“I thought for a long time I was hiding my feelings for your sake. But today, you could have been hurt as badly or worse than I was in February, and I’d still have loved you. Why did I think your feelings should work any differently? Because I’m supposed to be this big strong guy? I told myself when I walked—if I walked—then I’d tell you how I feel. Today I realized that was my pride talking. And I was wrong. I could have lost you today and I’d never have told you how I feel. I do love you, Hope.”