Northern Exposure: Compass Brothers, Book 1 (8 page)

“Amen.” Colby chuckled from where he kept Silas upright. “Except you’re not wearing any pants, big guy. There’s some serious crackage happening back here.”

“I think I’m skipping down the yellow brick road in Oz about now. It looks like I’m on Compass Ranch, but I really cracked my skull in that explosion and I’m lying on the rig while the world burns around me.”

“God, Si.” Lucy couldn’t stop herself from hugging him. She wrapped herself lightly around his torso and visualized absorbing his pain. Her touch seemed to break him from the memories assaulting him, at least long enough for him to make a joke.

“Any minute now flying monkeys are going to zoom past that fucking window. Keep the crazy lady on the bike away from me, okay? She gives me the willies.”

“Is it impossible to believe you’re home?” Lucy stroked his fuzzy cheek.

“It’s either that or you’re all insane. Most husbands wouldn’t find it amusing when some random guy wants to fuck his wife.”

“I’m not most husbands. And you’re not any guy.”

“That probably makes this worse.” Silas arched his hips, grinding himself against Lucy’s mound. She thought she might come on the spot. He desired her!

Relief poised her on the verge of tears and had naughty ideas screaming for attention.

Lucy scrambled to the other side of her patient before she landed them all in trouble. If he needed medical attention, that had to come first. They could figure out the rest later. It was enough that attraction zinged through him too.

When she spied what her husband stared at, she gasped. “Oh, my God.”

“Is it ruined?” Silas’s frame heaved with the disappointment he couldn’t suppress, shifting the image decorating his strong flesh. “Is Snake still around? Maybe he can fix it up for me.”

“Hell, no. I mean, Snake’s still kicking but…” Colby murmured reverently, “it’s fucking great. Perfect. I wish I’d thought of it.”

Lucy couldn’t stop herself. She traced the compass spanning his shoulders with her index finger. “It’s crazy, Si. There are slices, yellowed bruises, half-healed blisters and scrapes all around it. But nothing touched the tattoo. Not one single thing harmed it.”

“Maybe Mom is right.”

“Isn’t she always?” Colby ducked down for a better look. “What is that, there, between the cattle brand and the barn? I see something in the shadows.”

“No one’s ever noticed before.” Silas groaned. “Not even my brothers.”

“It’s your name, Colby.” Lucy bent forward to kiss the patch of skin, honoring the bond that had driven Si to carry her husband with him always. She’d known the instant she witnessed their embrace in the barn, they were meant for each other.

“Holy crap. You’re right. It is.” Colby’s shock might have been funny if the significance of the moment didn’t ripple through their entire lives. “And yours.”

“What?” She followed the direction of her husband’s pointing finger. Then she saw it. The tail of the y in her name entwined with the o in Colby.

Her hand flew to her mouth. Her knuckles couldn’t stifle her sob.

“Now you did it, Si. You made our girl cry.” He settled the injured man against the pillows, allowing both guys to peer into her unfocused eyes.

Lucy touched her cheeks with trembling fingers. Sure enough, tears dampened the skin there. She couldn’t resist them any longer.

When she held her arms out to Colby, he lifted her over Silas’s torso, into his arms. Instead of burrowing into his chest as she usually did on the rare occasions she succumbed to the need for a good cry, she kissed his jaw then turned. Careful not to hurt Silas, she tucked beneath his left arm and rested her cheek on his chest.

He stiffened beneath her for a few seconds before her tears melted his rigid hold.

“Shh, Lu.” He petted her hair with awkward pats. “Please, it destroys me when you’re upset.”

She couldn’t stem the flood now that it had started. In the periphery of her blurry vision, she caught him shooting Colby a plea for help. Her husband knew how to comfort her. He lowered himself to the mattress behind her, snuggling up tight to whisper soothing nonsense in her ear while he bracketed her with warmth.

Silas curled his arm around them both, his grip faint yet discernable.

“I’m sorry, Lucy.” His voice weakened, as though her misery sapped his strength. His agony increased the flow of her tears. She cried for all the nights they’d spent apart. For all the times he’d had no one to lean on. For so many wasted years.

“Do you have any concept of what you’re apologizing for?” Colby sounded kind of pissed. She couldn’t catch her breath long enough to referee.

“Not really.” Silas went slack beneath her. “Anything that causes her pain. Everything I’ve ever done. All the stuff I’ve fucked up. For all three of us…”

He whispered the last.

“If you hadn’t trashed her letters maybe you would have figured it out sooner. She told you every fucking day. How much she missed you. How much we needed you. The gaping hole you left behind never closed up. Never healed over.” Colby found the strength to say what she couldn’t. Not again. “She told you over and over that we care for you, and that we’d always be here, waiting for you to come home. You bastard.”

Silas shivered beneath her.

“Kept them. Every one. In my duffle, have them all. Waited for them. Collected them. Slept with one under my pillow. Couldn’t read them. Couldn’t stand to hear about the one place I ached to be and could never go,” Silas murmured, on the verge of losing consciousness again. It’d been a long day, full of stress and sedatives strong enough to knock out a horse. “I never stopped loving you either. Promise.”

Silas’s confession and the running stream of Lucy’s tears consumed the last of his stamina. He faded into a restless sleep beneath her cheek. For a long time, she clung to the man she’d lost while the one who’d caught her did it again. The three of them stayed like that.

Together.

All night long.

Silas picked at the knot in the tattered ribbon securing the bundle of letters he’d received in the first six months he spent in Alaska. After Lucy had departed for the day to tend her other patients, amidst a slew of unnecessary apologies, Colby had set the bricks of correspondence on the tray at Silas’s side then unplugged the TV in his room.

“You can stare at the wall all day, or you can read those.”

How fucking demented did it make Silas that Colby’s iron will turned him on? The innate authority his friend possessed made the prospect of topping the man that much more alluring. He’d give every penny of the wages he’d hoarded for the past decade to bend Colby over the edge of the bed and screw him senseless.

He could make the foreman enjoy it.

Beg for more.

Caught in the daydream of burying himself repeatedly in Colby’s tight heat, penetrating the ass he suspected had never welcomed a stiff cock, he tuned out the rest of the frustrated man’s rant until Colby grabbed his hair as though he might attempt to tug it out. Silas blinked, dissolving the lurid movie playing in his imagination. Torn between admitting his depravity and letting his friend assume he’d ignored him on purpose, Silas hesitated too long.

Colby started to say something but closed his mouth, opened it again then spun on the heel of his boot. He reappeared in the doorway long enough to toss a cordless phone onto the bed. “Lucy’s one, I’m two and JD is three on speed dial. Your mom will be back from her lunch with Lydia Redmond in an hour or so. Sometimes they like to shop afterward, though I doubt she will today.”

Colby clomped down the stairs and onto the front porch. The screen door slammed behind him. Good thing Vicky hadn’t heard it. She’d have ripped him a new one, foreman or not.

Silas tried to doze, but the sweet oblivion of sleep eluded him. Hell, he’d spent most of the past month unconscious. His body healed exponentially now, fueling his impatience to be up and about again. Especially with the lure of Compass Ranch right outside these prison walls.

He idled another quarter hour testing the strength in his leg.

He’d managed to convince himself he might be able to stand without the crutches propped near the door, ten feet from his resting place, until he twisted something funny and delivered a bolt of agony up his spine. The resulting jerk of his torso tweaked his ribs. Sweating, cursing and grumbling, he resettled himself on the pillows. He couldn’t achieve the level of comfort Lucy had provided when she’d tended him.

In an act of desperation, he stared at his laptop, willing the hunk of plastic and metal to levitate to the bed from the desk as though he’d mastered the Jedi mind trick.

No such luck.

The yellowed paper of Lucy’s letters scared the shit out of him and tempted him at the same time. Sort of like the woman who’d authored them. He trailed the tip of one finger over their edges, noting the dulled corners on most from his frequent handling.

If he were honest, he’d admit he’d never opened them because he would have run straight home if she’d given him the slightest bit of hope. How stupid had he been all those years? What had really frightened him?

Would he continue on as he had, or find the courage to do better? Suddenly, it seemed as though the only person with a problem accepting the truth was him.

“Son of a bitch.” Silas worked the knot until the faded satin unraveled. He plucked the first letter from the stack and slid his finger beneath the flap on the back. With one motion, he shredded the seal along the top then withdrew the lined paper from within.

Lucy’s elegant script flowed over page after page.

Dear Silas,

I can’t say how many times I’ve written that salutation yet never before have I meant it so sincerely. Today is the first day Compass Ranch is without you and the absence is horrifyingly apparent. Colby and Seth took your place, covering your chores and their own. Colby even made your run to town with the extra chicken eggs for the farmer’s market since it’s Tuesday.

I thought Sam and Sawyer might want a cut of the responsibility, but the twins don’t seem to share the same love for this life as we do. For Colby, it’s a golden opportunity. I can see how it might be more of a burden on your brothers. At least now. They’re young and eager for freedom. Same as you, I suppose. As for Colby, well, something’s different in him already. Without you here to lean on, he’s growing minute by minute and you’d find his newfound confidence as attractive as I do.

Oh, Silas. How can I ignore it any longer? I suppose I‘m writing to tell you how sorry I am to have stolen him from you. Please, come home. If you return, I’ll leave him to you fair and square. You crave him as much as I do, that much is apparent. And he showed you more hunger than I’ve ever been able to coax from behind his restraint.

I suppose that’s truth of why I ran. When I saw you…in the barn. It’s important to me that you understand.

The sight terrified me. It’s been the three of us for so long. How can I live alone? Separated? Hell, we are now anyway. It’s not right, Silas.

The way you touched him, the way you both grappled to get closer, it knocked the wind from me. Not because your raw desire horrified me, quite the opposite, but because the passion on your faces convinced me I’d lost you both.

Neither of you has coveted me with such ferocity.

“The fuck we haven’t!” Silas roared to the empty ranch house. “How could you think that, Lucy?”

Even as he asked, he rewound time and imagined viewing the past through her lens. He’d done his best to preserve her innocence—to protect her from the savage needs raging inside him. Time after time he’d fucked up by trying to shelter her and Colby when he should have admitted they were tough enough to take what he had to give.

He refused to insult them any longer.

He’d finish reading this letter. Then all the others, every last one. Ten years of history through the eyes of the woman he loved. Had always loved.

Tonight he’d come clean. He’d put his soul on display and stand naked before them, all faults exposed, allowing them to decide his future.

Their future.

Until then, he’d hope for a miracle. He’d need one to ensure it wasn’t too late.

Chapter Six

Victoria called out as she climbed the stairs, giving Silas a heads up before she intruded on his thoughts. It wasn’t as though Lucy, Colby, or both, entertained him. He should be so lucky. After the hours he’d spent reading, he doubted they planned to return this century.

He winced as he recalled one particular note he wouldn’t forget anytime soon. Lucy had vented her anger, calling him every name in the book and some colorful variations he gave her kudos for inventing. The scathing rebuke followed a spur of the moment visit she’d made to the fishing hole he and Colby had often frequented. Truthfully, they’d done more goofing off than actual fishing. The secluded spot had sheltered them from prying eyes and ears when—in the early days—the burden of Colby’s past had threatened to smother the teenager with darkness.

Lucy had described the anguish she’d witnessed on her fiancé’s face when she’d happened upon him. She’d hidden in the brush, horrified, when the man she loved dropped to his knees and sobbed, begging forgiveness for moving on without Silas as part of their relationship. Her justified outrage had crackled throughout the missive, which included several scratch-outs deep enough to tear her pretty, floral stationary.

The worst of the damage to the note centered around her accusation that he’d tarnished the joy she felt every time she glanced at the token of Colby’s fidelity and devotion. The engagement ring she’d prized studying in the sunlight seemed a little dirty after that day.

For that alone Silas owed her more apologies than he could utter in a lifetime.

“Silas!” His mother spoke as she rounded the corner. “Lucy and Colby are running late. Mr. Thead had to have an extra infusion and one of the fences in the west pasture needed mending. But your brothers would like to talk to you.”

When she took in the pile of paper covering the mattress, she stutter-stepped but recovered quickly. She smiled, nodding in his direction.