The Way Home (40 page)

“I’m not ready.”

“You’re scared.”

“That, too,” she admitted. “I need to get myself together a little better before I call him.”

“Because you think he’s going to reject you.”

“I would, if I were him. He’s suffered losses, too, J.R. He
lost his Navy career. He’s lost people he loved. What if I was the last straw? What if he’s reached a point where he’s afraid to risk losing again?”

“The man loves you so much that he risked his life to save mine, because he needed to be sure you were happy. I don’t think a man like that is afraid of much of anything.”

She stared at the Christmas tree and hoped J.R. was right. The part of her that doubted, however, had a stronger hold on her than the part that believed.

“Nothing to say to that?”

“I’ll call him. I will,” she promised. “I just need a little more time.”

“The man is suffering, Jess. Like I suffered without Rabia. Put him out of his misery.”

“I’ll work on it, OK?”

“You do that. Look, I’ve gotta go. I just wanted to check in. Take care of yourself. And give Bear a hug for me.”

“He misses you.”

“I miss him, too.”

“You’re going to have to come back and visit us when you’re both up to it. Thanks for keeping in touch with Brad, by the way. It means so much to him.”

“He’s my brother. I may not remember him yet, but it didn’t take long to figure out that he’s a good man. Don’t worry. We aren’t going to lose touch. None of us. I’ll call again before Christmas.”

“Take care.”

She disconnected, then stared at the phone for a moment, the melancholy creeping in again as she thought about Ty being as miserable and alone for Christmas as she was.

But then Bear whined pitifully and snapped her out of it.
She bundled up in her boots, down coat, a stocking cap, and gloves and took him outside into the snow.

J
ESS TOOK
B
EAR
on their usual route down the blacktop toward the lake and into the woods, but she cut the walk short at the halfway point. She’d barely made it out the door when the promised wind had picked up and the temp had dropped. The snow drove against her with such force it peppered her bare cheeks, and walking against it, she had to keep her head down to keep it from stinging her eyes.

“Sorry, buddy, we’re heading back.”

The blowing snow and deep drifts didn’t faze the Lab, but he changed course when she did and, energized by his romp in the woods, loped ahead of her down the road.

Normally, she would have kept him closer, but there was no traffic tonight on either the blacktop or the highway where the two roads intersected in a T. Anyone with half a brain would be tucked up tight at home, warm by the fire, waiting for morning, when they’d start the task of digging out.

In fact, the last time she’d seen the snow plow go by had been around four, and the local news reported that road crews would be called in early because of the severe weather conditions.

So when she saw headlights cutting through the snow and bearing east on the highway, heading toward the store, she not only marveled at the stupidity of the driver but also figured she’d soon be dealing with a stranded motorist. It wouldn’t be the first time. Some people had more balls than brains, her dad used to say.

Oh, well, she’d take them into the store and call Shelley, and then Darrin would come after them on a snowmobile and put them up for the night at the lodge.

She was still half a block away from the store when, sure enough, the headlights veered off the road, and the vehicle pulled into the parking lot and stopped under the light of the fuel pumps.

Bear, who never knew a stranger, trotted right up to what Jess could see now was an SUV.

“You’re a heck of a watchdog,” she grumbled, and tucked her chin deeper into her scarf to ward off the icy cold.

The driver’s-side door opened, and a man stepped out. She wasn’t close enough to make out his features, even under the security light, but something about him seemed familiar. Apparently, Bear thought so, too. The dog started jumping in happy circles and crying as if he’d found a long-lost friend.

The man went down on one knee to ruffle the dog’s coat and give him a hug. Bear jumped on him as if he was fresh meat, licking his face, nudging his hands, practically tackling him.

The man laughed then . . . and she stopped mid-stride, twenty yards away.

She knew that laugh.

She loved that laugh.

This was no stranger. Ty knelt in the snow, watching her, snowflakes dusting his hair, his cheeks fiery red from the cold.

She started running.

She didn’t care that snow stung her face, or that the happy tears running down her frozen cheeks blurred her vision, or that her lungs burned like fire. She needed to be in his arms, kissing him.

He was still on his knees when she reached him, and she didn’t stop. She flew at him and tumbled them sideways into six inches of snow.

His arms wrapped tightly around her, and they rolled until she ended up on top of him, smiling down as snow fell around them and crept inside her coat collar.

“You’re here,” she whispered, breathless and deliriously hopeful and happy. Still disbelieving, she framed his cheeks in her gloved palms.

“I’m here,” he said softly, searching her face, making it infinitely clear that he’d missed her as much as she’d missed him.

“You know? About J.R.?”

“And Rabia? Yes. Mike told me.”

Damn
, she was going to cry. “You don’t hate me?”

His eyes softened. “I could never hate you.”

She did cry, then. “But can you still love me?”

He pulled her head down to his and kissed her. “If you’d be kind enough to get me inside, out of the frozen tundra, I’ll show you how much.”

T
Y GRABBED HER
hand, and they scrambled to their feet. The bell he’d missed so much dinged wildly as he jerked open the door, made sure Bear managed to squeeze inside, then shoved it closed behind them.

“I need your mouth.” He pushed her up against the door and slammed his mouth over hers. “I need to be inside you.”

He felt primitive, feral, as, with a low groan, he broke the kiss and led her up the stairs. They frantically stripped off their clothes, leaving a trail from the doorway to the bedroom. He was hopping on one foot, cursing, and trying to get his boot off, when he looked up and saw her. On her knees. In the middle of the bed. Naked. Arms outstretched.

Screw the boot. He flew to the bed, dragged her against him, and tossed her onto her back.

Then he found the heart of her, the heat of her, and buried himself deep inside.

He’d missed her for too long. Had been certain he would live his life without her . . . for too long.

No more. He was here now. She was his now. Her sweet, responsive breasts. Her soft, giving body. Her wild, hungry mouth.

Her pure, giving heart.

Finesse could come later. The way she moved against him told him she didn’t want finesse right now. Told him it was the same for her as it was for him.

This union was about lonely nights and hopeless longing and a crippling fear that they’d never be together this way again. This was about desperation and regret, about promises that would never again be broken.

This was about staking claims and coming home to a woman he was never going to leave again.

Minnesota, December, the following year

K
abetogama is one of the
memories that came back first.” J.  R. stood in front of the log cabin’s massive picture window, Bear sitting beside him. The Lab had divided his lavish attention between Ty and J.R. since he and Rabia and the baby had arrived two days ago. “Yet every time I see it, it’s like I’ve forgotten how beautiful it is up here.”

A fire crackled softly in the stone fireplace as Jess walked up beside him, sharing the view outside the dream home Ty had bought for her.

“Like a postcard,” she agreed.

The frozen lake spread out like a moonscape to the north, while the snow-heavy forest nestled around them.

Since she and J.R. were sharing a rare moment alone, she took advantage of it to make sure all was well.

“Ty’s not pushing you too hard, is he?” Yesterday, Ty and Brad had insisted that J.R. go snowmobiling with them. This morning, they’d gone ice fishing.

“No. I’m good. Those guys are crazy wild on those machines, though,” he added with a laugh.

“Please don’t take too many chances with the leg,” she cautioned him.

“Yes, Mom.” He grinned at her.

Nine months ago, the VA’s best surgical team had successfully repaired the break. J.R.’s rehab had been remarkably fast—mainly because of his determination—but Jess didn’t want him pushing too hard.

It was clear, though, that he was doing fine. This was his and Rabia’s second visit to the lake since she and Ty had gotten married last spring, and she was thrilled with how much progress he’d made since she’d seen him last. He looked like the old J.R. again, except for the touches of gray in his hair. He appeared healthy and robust and whole. Most of all, he was happy.

Jess credited Rabia and the baby with much of that. And the gradual recovery of his memory. Since that huge void in his life had been filled, he was better able to manage the PTSD. He still had headaches and nightmares but not as often, and he handled them better now.

“We did the right thing,” he said, smiling down at her.

“We did,” she agreed, and hugged him. They’d both be miserable right now, and so would Ty and Rabia, if they’d stayed the course and tried to force their marriage to work.

“So you think you got a big enough tree?”

She laughed. The oven timer dinged then, and she walked across the great room to the open kitchen to take another batch of cookies out of the oven.

“You know Ty. Go big or go home.”

The tallest Christmas tree Ty could find fit in the center of
the great room and rose almost to the peak of the eighteen-foot ceiling. He hadn’t stopped there. A huge wreath hung on the wall between the ceiling and the top of the cabin’s front door. Outside, another wreath glistened with Christmas lights. He’d strung more lights on a perfectly shaped white pine in the front yard and draped garland on the porch posts.

“Much more fun than decorating pineapple palm trees,” he’d said with a grin.

They’d decorated the inside tree together with more twinkling lights and both her old, sentimental ornaments and the new ones she’d had to buy to fill up the gigantic tree. Beneath the tree, Jess had placed lovingly wrapped gifts for everyone she cared about. Shelley and Darrin. Mike and Eva—Ty was meeting their plane in the Falls right now.

There were gifts for Brad and for her mom and dad and for Mike and Ty’s parents, who were all arriving tomorrow. She’d bought presents for Kayla, Blake, Lane, and Hailey and her other part-time help, and she’d even found something special for Boots and Marcia.

And while she didn’t want Rabia to feel as though she were forcing Christian traditions on her, Jess had also bought her a gift in the spirit of friendship and goodwill when she’d gone shopping for J.R. But the lion’s share of the ribbons and bows were wrapped around pretty little packages for the beautiful baby girl who napped upstairs while Rabia took advantage of the down time by catching a much-needed nap herself.