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Authors: Catherine Anderson

BOOK: Blue Skies
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“It’s not going to be easy.”

Nothing worth having came easy. “Does that mean it won’t be boring? I hate boring.”

She laughed wetly. “Nope. It definitely won’t be boring.”

“Good.”

They fell silent and simply looked at each other for a long moment. Then she said, “I think it’s important to keep a positive attitude. Mind over matter, and all that.”

Hank was all for her keeping a positive attitude. If anyone had the strength of will to beat the odds, it had to be her. “Damn straight. If the lattice suddenly backs off, you may still be able to see when you’re nine months along.” He winked at her again. “Except for your toes, of course. I have it from a credible source, my sister-in-law Molly, that pregnant ladies can’t see their toes the last three months.”

She laughed. “Being able to see my toes is the least of my concerns.”

“I know.” He gave her hand a final squeeze. “No more worrying. If your sight goes, we’ll organize the house. It shouldn’t take but a few days.”

“Shouldn’t we start on that now?”

“Hell, no. We’ve got sightseeing to do.”

She gestured at the horizon. “I can’t see the sights, Hank.”

He cranked the ignition. “That only means I need to get closer.”

When he took off across open country, Carly grabbed the dash. “There’s no road!” she said with a laugh.

“That’s the beauty of a four-wheel drive, darlin’. We don’t need a road.” He smiled over at her. “I’ll take it slow. If it gets too bumpy for comfort, holler.”

Carly was bouncing from her seat, but the cushioned upholstery provided her with a soft landing. Even if it hadn’t, she wouldn’t have asked him to stop. She was going to see the rock formation, after all.

A few minutes later, she could finally make out the craggy red rock, cast against a clear, powder-blue sky. “Oh!” she cried, her awe heartfelt this time. “How pretty! And it
does
look like an old man. He’s lying on his back.”

Hank chuckled. “That’s right.”

She fixed her gaze on the formation again. “I can see his toes poking up. And his knees.” Her voice trailed away, and her cheeks went pink. “It really does look like a man lying there. Doesn’t it?”

“Yep, all parts of one. Now I know you can see him. You’re blushing.”

From there, Hank headed east. Carly got to see a herd of deer along the road, which was exciting. Later they passed a group of antelope, which were close enough for her to make out. Then, just when she thought she’d seen it all, Hank slammed on the brakes and pointed to the top of a power pole.

“Bald eagle,” he said.

Carly leaned forward to see. “Ohmigosh! Isn’t he beautiful?” She cast Hank a bewildered look. “He’s not bald. I thought they were featherless on top.”

He burst out laughing.

At dusk, Hank stopped at a roadside café and got them sandwiches. A few minutes later, they ate while watching the sun go down over the desert. Carly had seen few things so spectacular. As the sun dipped low, it sent shafts of brilliant white light through the fluffy white clouds that were gathering on the horizon. Moments later, the entire sky turned a beautiful shade of dusty rose.

Pocketing a bite of food in her cheek, she said, “Thank you for bringing me here, Hank. This is magnificent.”

“Enjoy,” he said softly. “It won’t last long.”

He was right; the sunset didn’t last long. But she knew she’d have a memory of it for the rest of her life.

As full darkness descended, Hank settled back and asked, “What’s it like?”

His voice was so husky and thick with sadness that Carly immediately knew what he was asking about. “It’s not real bad yet—sort of like looking through lightly steamed glass or a thin fog.”

He said nothing, just sat there, a black shape in the darkness.

“I’m going to be all right, Hank. I’m used to being blind.”

“I know you’ll be all right, honey. I just wish God would give us a miracle.”

“Maybe he will. If not, I think it’ll be easier this time. Before, I had never seen the sky or the stars. When people spoke of a beautiful sunset, I couldn’t picture it. What did pink look like? What did blue look like? I had no idea. Now I’ve seen a lot of things, and I’ll have all those images in my mind.”

Hank meant to make sure she saw a lot more things before her sight went.
Images in my mind
. Those words whispered inside his head all the way home. He had no idea how much longer she’d be able to see. He only knew they were going to make every second count.

Chapter Eighteen

F
or the remainder of that week and through the weekend, Carly came to feel like a vacationer with only a few days left to play. Hank took her for long drives to see everything in the area—rivers, snowcapped mountain peaks, forested high lake areas, and quaint lake resorts. They picnicked in grassy meadows dotted with dandelions and clumps of clover, napping afterward on the wool army blanket he kept in the truck. At other times, they dined in unique restaurants overlooking streams and lakes so she could enjoy the views even while she ate. When the vistas were too far away for her to see them clearly, Hank went to incredible lengths to get her closer.

For Carly, it was a magical interlude before darkness fell—a time for mischief and laughter and harmless flirtations with an incredibly handsome man who never pressed her for more. Holding hands. Wrestling and playing tag. Walking through the forest when the earth was dappled with sunlight. Dancing with only the wind to provide them with music.

Sometimes, at particularly pretty viewpoints, they’d find a comfortable place to sit and remain there for an hour or more, drinking in the panoramic vistas. During those stops, Hank pointed out things that Carly might have missed—the spots on a fawn, a squirrel clinging to a branch, or clouds shaped like animals. During those lulls, he sometimes held her hand and toyed with her fingers. At other times, he’d casually drape an arm over her shoulders, his hand lightly caressing her skin through her blouse.

In those first three days, Carly cataloged countless memories of the world around her. She saw one of the largest obsidian flows in the world, a lava bed that stretched forever, and a spectacular view of Central Oregon from the top of Shoshone Peak. She couldn’t see as far into the distance as she would have liked, but all that she could see was beautiful. She had to be content with that.

After touring the immediate area, they ventured farther afield, traveling the scenic Highway 101 into northern California to see the Redwood National Park. From there, they went to Crater Lake, where they spent a day hiking the trails to incredible viewpoints and taking a boat tour so Carly could clearly see Wizard Island.

With the passing of each idyllic moment, Carly became more achingly aware of Hank physically—of his height and breadth, of the way the muscles in his back and arms stretched his shirt taut when he moved, of the lazy, powerfully fluid shift of his lean hips as he walked. She found herself recalling that morning when he’d stripped off his shirt and posed for her—and she yearned to see him that way just one more time.

After Crater Lake, they cut across to Lake Lemolo, rented a small chalet by the water, and spent the evening in the quaint little resort bar, enjoying hamburgers for supper, drinking Seven-Up, and dancing to jukebox music long into the evening.

Carly had almost forgotten how charming Hank could be on a dance floor with music thrumming to titillate her senses. During his favorite ballads, he sang along, his voice so honey-rich and deep it seemed to move clear through her. She loved being held close in his strong arms—feeling the heat of him all around her. She enjoyed his large hand at her waist or back as they swayed with the music. Slow melodies, fast beats. She loved it all.

As the hour grew late, she found herself wishing she could capture the evening in a bubble and make it last forever—that she could do as Hank had once advised and grab hold of the magic with both fists.

“Penny for them,” he whispered, his blue eyes delving into hers.

“What makes you think I’d ever sell out so cheap?”

“A nickel, then. Why so solemn? You must be thinking some pretty heavy thoughts.”

She was thinking dangerous thoughts—things she didn’t dare share with him. Over the last few days, she’d let down her guard, and the unthinkable had happened. She’d fallen wildly in love with him.

“I’m just tired.”

He spun her in a slow circle. “Well, we can’t have that, little mama. Let’s call it an evening and get you home to bed.”

When the music ended, he paid their tab, draped her sweater over her shoulders, and led her from the building. A cool night wind blew in off the lake, the air carrying with it the scent of water and pine. As they passed under a pine with low-hanging bows, Carly tugged on his hand to make him stop.

Just this once, she wanted to share a passionate kiss in the moonlight—and she wanted to see the handsome man who kissed her.

“What?” he asked.

The request was there, hovering on her tongue.
Would you kiss me, Hank? Just this once? A deep, passionate, mind-boggling kiss. Think of it as one for the road
. Only when she looked up at him, she knew it could never end with only a kiss. She wanted so much more,
needed
so much more—and if she opened that door, she might never be able to close it.

So instead of asking him to kiss her, she said, “Listen. Isn’t that a beautiful sound?”

He cocked his head. “The night wind, whispering in the trees,” he said, his firm lips shimmering in the moonlight. “I’ve always loved it.”

She nodded, staring hungrily at his mouth, remembering the feelings he’d evoked within her the last time they kissed.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” she said with a sigh. She tipped her head back to gaze at the sky. “Uh-oh. I hope it’s not going to rain. No stars.”

Hank joined her in perusing the zenith of dark blue above them. The heavens were filled with brilliant stars. Carly just couldn’t see them. “Just a little cloud coverage,” he lied. “It’ll pass over.”

“Oh, I hope so. Today was so much fun. If it rains, it’ll spoil everything.”

“No rain, I promise.” He drew her back into a walk. “Come on, pretty lady. It’s time to get you to bed. Tomorrow will be a busy day.”

He felt her hesitate as they left the asphalt and ventured onto uneven ground. Because they’d been dancing only minutes before, he didn’t hesitate to slip an arm around her waist. “Careful through here. The ground’s pretty rocky.”

She leaned more of her weight against him. In the moonlight, Hank could see her staring intently ahead, her eyes wide. He knew she could see very little in the darkness. Tomorrow the sun would bathe the world with light again, and she’d be able to see once more. Perhaps not clearly, but she’d still be able to see. Soon, though—far too soon—not even the sunlight would help.

Once at the chalet, Carly stood at the center of the small living room, looking at him with questions in her eyes. If she’d been any other woman, Hank might have hoped she was issuing a silent invitation.

“What?” he asked.

She hugged her waist, smiled faintly, and shook her head. “Nothing.”

She was so damned beautiful. Dressed in jeans and a simple white blouse, with her hair tousled from the night wind, she was, hands down, the prettiest thing he’d ever clapped eyes on.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked.

Her cheek dimpled in a smile. “That depends. If it’s bad, I don’t want to hear it. Why ruin a perfect day?”

He laughed and bent his head. When he looked up again, she was watching him expectantly. “You’re beautiful. No lie, darlin’, just fact.”

She rolled her eyes and blushed.

“No, seriously.” Hank slowly closed the distance between them. “You have to know I’m not just saying it.” He caught her chin on the crook of his finger and lifted her face. “No hokey pick-up lines. We’ve got an agreement. I won’t break it. I just need for you to know. You’re so beautiful.”

Her eyes went bright with tears. “Thank you. You’re not bad, either.”

He’d received more flattering assessments, but none of those counted now. All that mattered was what she thought. “Thank you,” he said huskily.

She trailed her gaze over his face. “I’m no expert, mind you. But you’re the handsomest man I’ve ever seen.”

He laughed. He couldn’t stop himself. “And how many have you seen?”

“Not many compared to most women. I am an expert on auras, though.”

“On what?”


Auras
.” Her mouth curved into an impish smile. “It’s the essence of a person. It creates a field around you.”

“Really?” Normally, Hank might have discounted that as malarkey, but Carly had been blind all her life. It was entirely possible that she’d sharply honed all her other senses to make up for her lack of sight. “What’s my aura like?”

She cupped a hand to his cheek. “Kind. Warm. I felt safe with you that very first night. Even while we were dancing, you put off really nice signals.”

“Did I, now?”

She nodded. Then, lightly trailing her fingertips over his mouth, she whispered, “You still do.”

Hank stood there, trying to decipher the meaning behind that, as she left the room. He stared after her, a part of him convinced she had just given him the proverbial green light, another part wondering if he had lost his mind. If she’d meant it that way, she wouldn’t have skedaddled so fast.

He headed upstairs, stripping off his shirt as he went.
Nice signals
. What the hell did that mean?

Carly listened to Hank go up the stairs. Then she quickly slipped on her nightgown and dove under the covers. The chalet was equipped with several beds. He’d given her the downstairs bedroom, which sported only one, a king-sized monstrosity that made her feel horribly small and alone, like a postage stamp stuck on one corner of a business envelope. She stretched out a hand to skim the sheet beside her, acutely aware of how cold the linen felt. Spending so much time with Hank had weakened her resolve. She wished he were there beside her—that she could smell his cologne and the musky masculine scent that clung to his skin, that she could feel his warmth all around her again.

Those thoughts made her wonder if she’d gone over the edge. No, she decided. She was completely sane—maybe saner than she’d ever been in her life.
Her turn
. Finally, at long last, she’d found an honest-to-goodness prince, and, like a blithering fool, she was passing on the opportunity to be with him.
Now or never,
a taunting little voice whispered in her mind.
When you first make love, wouldn’t it be nice to still be able to see while you’re doing it?

Why, she wondered, did there have to be a future in it? Grab hold of the magic, Hank had told her. Well, it didn’t get any more magical than this. Why was she holding back? Over the last few days, he had been trying almost frantically to fill her head with memories, but he was neglecting to give her the most wondrous memory of all.

What if she never found Mr. Right in the city? What if the next surgical procedure didn’t work, and no man ever looked twice at her again because she was blind? When she faced permanent blindness again, she wanted to have at least a few memories to take with her into old age, namely how it felt to lie in a man’s arms and experience ecstasy.

Was that so wrong? For this period of time, they were married. She didn’t even have to worry about getting pregnant. Why not fling her arms wide and experience it all? If both she and Hank went into it knowing that they’d eventually dissolve the marriage, how could it hurt for them to make the most of this time?

Carly flung away the covers, slipped from the bed, and then stood there in the dark, shivering.
Coward
. What could he say but no? She marched from the bedroom. At the bottom of the stairs, she hesitated, assailed once more with doubts. But then she found her courage, closed her eyes so she wouldn’t stumble, and marched up to the second floor.

Almost sound asleep, Hank heard something and rolled onto his side to peer through the moonlit gloom. Carly stood in the center of the upstairs sleeping area, a large room with sloped ceilings and twin-sized beds lining the walls. Her fists were knotted at her sides. Her small chin was thrust out, as if she were ready to do battle.

“Hank?”

He blinked to clear the sleep from his eyes. “Yo?”

She whirled to face him, one hand clamped over the center of her chest. “Oh! There you are. You startled me out of ten years’ growth.”

He sat up, thinking she might be sick and thanking God he’d kept his boxers on. “Is your stomach upset, sweetheart?”

“No. I feel perfectly fine. I just can’t sleep.”

He rubbed a hand over his face.
Warm milk
. That might make her drowsy. “Let’s go downstairs,” he said, slurring his words slightly. “I’ll fix you something.”

“I don’t want you to fix me anything.”

“Oh.” He blinked to see her more clearly. “What do you want, then?”

“Sex.”

Hank didn’t have any of that in the fridge. “Will you settle for chocolate milk?”


What?

“I didn’t get any—” He almost said “sex” before his brain finally kicked into gear. He blinked again and stared at her. He was dreaming, he decided. A shy, wary, inexperienced female like Carly didn’t invade a man’s bedroom, demanding sex. It was like—well, one of those things that just didn’t happen. He cleared his throat, scratched his temple. “What did you say?”

“Which time?”

“What was it you said you wanted?” he clarified.

“Sex.”

He nodded.
Okay.
He tugged on his earlobe, wondering if he’d gotten water in his ears when he showered that morning. “Would you say that again?”

She made a slight sound of frustration, whirled, and marched toward the stairs. “Never mind. Bad idea. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

She stopped to firmly grasp the handrail before beginning the descent. Hank sat there, staring stupidly after her. Had she said sex? He tried to think of other words that came close.
Mex, Tex, hex, specks
. None of those made sense.
Shit
. She had said sex.

He was out of the bed and halfway down the stairs before he realized he was wearing only boxers. Back up the stairs. Where the hell were his pants? He tripped over his boots. Found his shirt.
Damn
. His hand finally landed on denim. He stuck one foot down a leg, then hopped around, stabbing with his unencumbered foot to find the other hole. To hell with it. He started down the stairs with his jeans only half on.

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