A Cold Creek Reunion (16 page)

The trees finally opened up into a small clearing and she caught her breath. His house was gorgeous: two stories of honey-colored pine logs and river rock with windows dominating the front and a porch that wrapped around the entire house so that he could enjoy the view of mountains and creek in every direction.

She loved it instantly, from the river-rock chimney rising out of the center to the single Adirondack chair on the porch, angled to look out at the mountains. She couldn’t have explained it but she sensed warmth and welcome here.

Her heart pounded strangely in her ears as she parked the SUV and climbed out. She saw a light inside the house but she also heard a rhythmic hammering coming from somewhere behind the structure.

That would be Taft. Somehow she knew it. She reached in for the pie her mother had made—why hadn’t she thought of doing something like this for him?—and headed in the direction of the sound.

She found him in another clearing behind the house, framing up a building she assumed would be an outbuilding for the horses he had talked about. He had taken off his shirt to work the nail gun, and that leather tool belt he had used while he was working at the inn—not that she had noticed or anything—hung low over his hips. Muscles rippled in the gathering darkness and her stomach shivered.

Here was yet another image that could go in her own mental Taft Bowman beefcake calendar.

She huffed out a little breath, sternly reminding herself that standing and salivating over the man was
not
why she was here, and forced herself to move forward. Even though she wasn’t trying to use stealth, he must not have heard her approach over the sound of the nail gun and the compressor used to power it, even when she was almost on top of him. He didn’t turn around or respond in any way and she finally realized why when she saw white earbuds dangling down, tethered to a player in the back pocket of his jeans.

She had no idea what finally tipped him off to her presence, but the steady motion of the nail gun stopped, he paused for just a heartbeat and then he jerked his head around. In that instant, she saw myriad emotions cross his features—surprise, delight, resignation and something that looked very much like yearning before he shuttered his expression.

“Laura, hi.”

“Hello.”

“Just a second.”

He pulled the earbuds out and tucked them away, then crossed to the compressor and turned off the low churning sound. The only sound to break the abrupt silence was the moaning of the wind in the treetops. Taft quickly grabbed a T-shirt slung over a nearby sawhorse and pulled it over his head, and she couldn’t help the little pang of disappointment.

“I brought you a pie. My mother made it for you.” She held out it, suddenly feeling slightly ridiculous at the meagerness of the offering.

“A pie?”

“I know, it’s a small thing. Not at all commensurate with everything you did, but…well, it’s something.”

“Thank you. I love pie. And I haven’t had anything to eat yet, so this should be great. I might just have pie for dinner.”

He had a square bandage just under his hairline that made him look rather rakish, a startling white contrast to his dark hair and sun-warmed features.

“Your head. You were hurt during the rescue, weren’t you?”

He shrugged. “No big deal. Just a little cut.”

Out of nowhere, she felt the hot sting of tears threaten. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you kidding? This is nothing. I would have gladly broken every limb, as long as it meant I could still get to the kids.”

She stared at him there in the twilight, looking big and solid and dearly familiar, and a huge wave of love washed over her. This was Taft. Her best friend. The man she had loved forever, who could always make her laugh, who made her feel strong and powerful and able to accomplish anything she wanted.

Everything she had been trying to block out since she arrived back in Pine Gulch seemed to break through some invisible dam and she was filled, consumed, by her love for him.

Those tears burned harder and she knew she had to leave or she would completely embarrass herself by losing her slippery hold on control and sobbing all over him.

She drew in a shuddering breath. “I…I just wanted to say thank-you. Again, I mean. It’s not enough. It will never be enough, but thank you. I owe you…everything.”

“No, you don’t. You owe me nothing. I was only doing my job.”

“Only your job? Really?”

He gazed at her for a long moment and she prayed he couldn’t see the emotions she could feel nearly choking her. “Okay, no,” he finally said. “If I had been doing my job and following procedure, I would have waited for the swift-water tech team to come help me extricate them. I would have done everything by the book. I spend seventy percent of my time training my volunteers in the fire department
not
to do what I did today. This wasn’t a job. It was much, much more.”

A tear slipped free but she ignored it. She could barely make out his expression now in the twilight and had to hope the reverse was also true. She had to leave. Now, before she made a complete fool of herself.

“Well…I’m in your debt. You’ve got a room anytime you want at the inn.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

She released a breath and nodded. “Well, thank you again. Enjoy the pie. I’ll, uh, see you later.”

She turned so swiftly that she nearly stumbled but caught herself and began to hurry back to her SUV while the tears she had struggled to contain broke free and trickled down her cheeks. She didn’t know exactly why she was crying. Probably not a single reason. The stress of nearly losing her children, the joy of having them returned to her. And the sudden knowledge that she loved Taft Bowman far more than she ever had as a silly twenty-one-year-old girl.

“Laura, wait.”

She shook her head, unable to turn around and reveal so much of her heart to him. As she should have expected, she only made it a few more steps before he caught up with her and turned her to face him.

He gazed down at her and she knew she must look horrible, blotchy-faced and red, with tears dripping everywhere.

“Laura,” he murmured. Just that. And then with a groan he folded her into his arms, wrapping her in his heat and his strength. She shuddered again and could no longer stop the deluge. He held her as she sobbed out everything that suddenly seemed too huge and heavy for her to contain.

“I could have lost them.”

“I know. I know.” His arms tightened and his cheek rested on her hair, and she realized this was exactly where she belonged. Nothing else mattered. She loved Taft Bowman, had always loved him, and more than that, she trusted him.

He was her hero in every possible way.

“And you.” She sniffled. “You risked your life to go after them. You could have been carried away just as easily.”

“I wasn’t, though. All three of us made it through.”

She tightened her arms around him and they stood that way for a long time with the creek rumbling over rocks nearby while the wind sighed in the trees and an owl hooted softly somewhere close and the crickets chirped for their mates.

Something changed between them in those moments. It reminded her very much of the first time he had kissed her, on that boulder overlooking River Bow Ranch, when she somehow knew that the world had shifted in some fundamental way and nothing would ever be the same.

After several moments, he moved his hands from around her and framed her face, his eyes reflecting the stars, then he kissed her with a tenderness that made her want to weep all over again.

It was a perfect moment, standing here with him as night descended, and she never wanted it to end. She wanted to savor everything—the soft cotton of his shirt, the leashed muscles beneath, his mouth, so firm and determined on hers.

She spread her palms on his back, pressing him closer, and he made a low sound in his throat, tightening his arms around her and deepening the kiss. She opened her mouth for him and slid her tongue out to dance with his while she pressed against those solid muscles, needing more.

His hand slipped beneath her shirt to the bare skin at her waist and she remembered just how he had always known how to touch her and taste her until she was crazy with need. She shivered, just a slight motion, but it was enough that he pulled his mouth away from hers, his breathing ragged and his eyes dazed.

He gazed down at her and she watched awareness return to his features like storm clouds crossing the moon, then he slid his hands away and took a step back.

“You asked me not to kiss you again. I’m sorry, Laura. I tried. I swear I tried.”

She blinked, trying to force her brain to work. After a moment, she remembered the last time he had kissed her, in the room she had just finished decorating. She remembered her confusion and fear, remembered being so certain he would hurt her all over again if she let him.

That all seemed another lifetime ago. Had she really let her fears rule her common sense?

This was Taft, the man she had loved since she was twelve years old. He loved her and he loved her children. When she had climbed out of his brother’s police vehicle and seen him there by the stretcher with his arms around Alex—and more, when she had seen that rope still tied to the tree and the churning, dangerous waters he had risked to save both of her children—she had known he was a man she could count on. He had been willing to break any rule, to give up everything to save her children.

I would have gladly broken every limb, as long as it meant I could still get to the kids.

He had risked his life. How much was she willing to risk?

Everything.

She gave him a solemn look, her heart jumping inside her chest, feeling very much as if
she
was the one about to leap into Cold Creek. “Technically,
I
could still kiss you, though, right?”

He stared at her and she saw his eyes darken with confusion and a wary sort of hope. That little glimmer was all she needed to step forward into the space between them and grab his strong, wonderful hands. She tugged him toward her and stood on tiptoe and pressed her mouth to the corner of his mouth.

He didn’t seem to know how to respond for a moment and then he angled his mouth and she kissed him fully, with all the joy and love in her heart.

Much to her shock, he eased away again, his expression raw and almost despairing. “I can’t do this back-and-forth thing, Laura. You have to decide. I love you. I never stopped, all this time. I think some part of me has just been biding my time, waiting for you to come home.”

He pulled his hands away. “I know I hurt you ten years ago. I can’t change that. If I could figure out how, I would in a heartbeat.”

At that, she had to shake her head. “I wouldn’t change anything,” she said. “If things had been different, I wouldn’t have Alex and Maya.”

He released a breath. “I can tell you, I realized right after you left what a fool I had been, too stubborn and proud to admit I was hurting and not dealing with it well. And then I compounded my stupidity by not coming after you like I wanted to.”

“I waited for you. I didn’t date anyone for two years, even though I heard all the stories about…well, the Bandito and everything. If you had called or emailed or anything, I would have come home in an instant.”

“I’m a different man than I was then. I want to think I’ve become a
better
man, but I’ve still probably picked up a few more nicks and bruises than I had then.”

“Haven’t we all?” she murmured.

“I need to tell you, I want everything, Laura. I want a home, family. I want those things with you, the same things I wanted a decade ago.”

Joy burst through her. When he reached for her hand, she curled her fingers inside his, wondering how it was possible to go from the depths of hell to this brilliant happiness in the course of one day.

“I hope you know I love your children, too. Alex is such a great kid. I can think of a hundred things I would love to show him. How to ride a two-wheeler, how to throw a spitball, how to saddle his own horse. I think I could be a good father to him.”

He brought their intertwined fingers to his heart. “And Maya. She’s a priceless gift, Laura. I don’t know exactly what she’s going to need out of life, but I can promise you, right now, that I would spend the rest of my life doing whatever it takes to give it to her. I swear to you, I would watch over her, keep her safe, give her every chance she has to stretch her wings as far as she can. I want to give her a place she can grow. A place where she knows, every single minute, that she’s loved.”

If she hadn’t already been crazy in love with this man, his words alone and his love for her fragile, vulnerable daughter would have done the trick. She gazed up at him and felt tears of joy trickle out.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he murmured, his own eyes wet. The significance of that did not escape her. The old Taft never would have allowed that sign of emotion.

“I love you, Taft. I love you so very much.”

Words seemed wholly inadequate, like offering a caramel-apple pie in exchange for saving two precious lives, so she did the only thing she could. She kissed him again, holding him tightly to her. Could he feel the joy pulsing through her, powerful, strong, delicious?