Strike Zone (16 page)

“Cassie”—Taylor’s voice was strong, but gentle—“we’ve got the same injury, and I’m depending on you to show me the ropes. You’re four weeks ahead of me in rehab. I watched you do your wall squats and leg presses. You’re a phenom,” she praised. “Now show me what you can do on the stationary bike.”

Cassie, who appeared to be seven or eight, rubbed her knee and sniffed. “It hurts too much.”

“The bike
is
the worst.” Taylor looked sympathetic. “You have to remember that pain leaves the body once you’ve healed. A couple rotations on the bicycle and your knee will be more flexible.”

Cassie looked at Taylor as if she wanted to believe her. “You sure?”

Taylor nodded toward the physical therapist. “That’s what Bryan told me. And I trust him with my rehab.”

“I’ll ride if you tell me another story,” Cassie bargained. “Maybe a bike adventure?”

Taylor nodded. “I’ve got a mountain bike tale that will curl your hair.”

Cassie giggled. “My hair’s already curly.”

“Then it’ll make your hair stand on end,” Taylor teased her.

Cassie’s green eyes went wide. “It’s that scary?”

Taylor flattened her palm to her chest. “Made my heart pound.”

Stryke had lived the story Taylor was about to tell. He’d traveled with her to Bolivia, had biked alongside her. His own heart had raced down the mountain road that snaked from the Andes to the Amazon Basin.

He crossed his arms over his chest and relived the adventure with her.

Taylor waited until Bryan had positioned Cassie on the stationary bike and the little girl had started her slow rotations before she began her story. Behind Cassie, Bryan flashed ten fingers, telling Taylor how many minutes Cassie needed to ride. Taylor could easily hold Cassie’s attention for that length of time.

Using her good heel to push back and forth and gently swing, Taylor recounted her adventure with Brek Stryker. “Five years ago, a friend and I traveled to South America.”

“A girl-or boyfriend?” Cassie immediately questioned.

“Boy,” Taylor told her. “My best friend.”

“What was his name?” asked Dalton, one of the boys in the room. He and his twin brother, Dillon, had suffered a collision at a skateboard park. Dalton had broken his shoulder, Dillon his ankle. Under the therapist’s watchful eye, Dalton now huffed and puffed as he lifted light weights, while Dillon worked his way through parallel bars.

“The man’s name was Brek.” Taylor said his name slowly. “We’d signed up for a bike ride on the world’s most dangerous road.”

“You like danger, don’t you?” Dillon asked.

“Thrill seeking is in my blood,” Taylor said without hesitation. “It makes me feel alive.”

“I felt alive when I popped an ollie off the hip ramp,” Dillon stated. “I had plenty of speed when I pulled my board into the air, but—”

“You didn’t bend your knees when you landed,” his brother finished for him. “You wiped out and took me with you.”

“We do everything together.” Dillon grinned.

“Mom says everything comes in twos,” added Dalton.

The boys were definitely live wires, perhaps ten years of age, with spiky dark hair and daredevil grins. They were boys Taylor would have loved to raise.

“Your story,” Cassie nudged.

“Keep pedaling,” Taylor reminded her when the little girl slowed. Relaxing into the memory, Taylor let her mind wander back to La Cumbria, to the top of the mountain pass.

“A rickety old bus, all rusty and dented, drove a group of six thrill seekers high into the mountains. It was freezing up there,” Taylor began.

“Did you have a warm jacket? Were you wearing socks?” Cassie sounded like a little mother.

“We dressed in layers to accommodate the extremes in temperature,” Taylor told her. “We rode Iron Horse bikes—”

“Awesome ride,” Dalton cut in. “Suspension soaks up the bumps.”

“Not all the bumps,” Taylor said. She’d had several bruises from the trip.

“We headed downhill on a single-lane gravel road that hugged the side of the mountain. There were no guardrails. There was a thousand-foot drop just a few feet from the tire tracks.”

Dalton whistled. “Damn dangerous.”

“Mom hates it when you swear,” Dillon put in. “You owe the curse jar fifty cents.”

“I don’t owe if you don’t tell Mom.”

“You can pay me instead,” said Dillon.

Dalton pulled a face.

And Taylor continued. “We saw snow on the peaks off in the distance as we descended from the chilly mountain air, past waterfalls, through rain, and fog, until we hit the steamy jungle.”

“Fog? How could you see?” asked Dillon.

“We couldn’t see well,” Taylor admitted. “We had to be very careful, but we also had to keep up with the downhill traffic. The group was passed twice by work trucks. It was a tight squeeze. We were nearly flattened against the mountain wall. If you misjudged a curve, you smacked into rock or went over the side. I almost took a nosedive.”

The twins’ jaws dropped.

Cassie went wide-eyed. “What happened?”

Taylor paused to let anticipation build as she drew the children deeper into the story. “Just outside the vacation village of Coroico, we heard a loud rumbling. The road shook. Within seconds, dirt and rocks were falling all around us.”

“A landslide!” Dillon pumped one arm into the air.

“Were you scared?” Cassie’s speed on the stationary bike had increased.

“A little scared,” Taylor admitted. “I was on the lead bike when it skidded and the front tire blew. I could barely steer.”

“Did you swerve?” Dillon stopped in the middle of the parallel bars.

“Swerved right to the edge of the road.” The kids had gone silent, holding their collective breath. “I was lucky”—
damn
lucky
—“my friend Brek was riding behind me. He went into action and saved my life.”

“What did he do?” Dillon pressed.

“Talk faster,” Dalton demanded.

Taylor smiled. “My slide felt like slow motion, like a movie frame. I started to go down, but instead of meeting the edge of the road, I slammed into Brek. He’d ridden up beside me and took the impact of my fall. Brek’s a very strong man. He withstood my weight as well as the force of the bike. He saved me from falling off the cliff. When it was all over, we both stood six inches from the edge.”

Cassie blinked. “Brek sounds like Superman.”

Brek Stryker was as much like an action figure as any human could be. He’d remained Taylor’s rock. He’d enfolded her in his arms, holding her so tightly she’d been unable to breathe. She hadn’t minded. She’d clung to him in an adrenaline overload, fear and gratitude surging through her body.

Had anyone but Brek been at her back, she wouldn’t have lived to tell her story.

“Were you hurt?” Dalton asked. “Do you have scars?”

Taylor pushed up the sleeve of her top to show them the white scar that ran down her inner arm from the curve of her elbow to her wrist. “Gravel burn. I was lucky.”

“How’d you get around the landslide?” Dillon asked.

“The landslide stopped all traffic. Brek carried both our bikes over the rubble. We ended up staying in Coroico until the road was cleared. It took two days.”

Cassie tilted her head, looking very thoughtful for one so young. “Did you marry Brek? I’d have married him.”

The little girl was smarter than Taylor. “It’s hard for a thrill seeker to settle down,” she said slowly. “You can’t marry unless you’re ready.”

“Are you ready now?” Cassie was persistent.

“Getting closer.”

Cassie giggled and rubbed her arms. “Your story gave me goose bumps.”

“Another adventure?” Dalton requested.

Bryan tapped his watch. “Taylor can tell another story tomorrow. We’re done with your therapy sessions for today. Your parents should be waiting in the outer lobby.”

The kids waved to Taylor as they left the therapy room. Reaching for her crutches, Taylor followed them out. She did no more than touch her toes to the floor, as the doctor had ordered.

At the swinging exit door, she came face-to-face with Brek Stryker. Tall, broad shouldered, and intense, he stood there wearing a blue-and-cream rugby shirt, jeans, and leather loafers without socks. He looked sturdy and self-sufficient.

A man’s man and a woman’s dream come true.

Taylor’s heart went a little crazy.

She gripped her crutches tightly.

Tilting her head, she met his gaze and softly managed, “You came back.”

“I spoke to Sloan after the team meeting. He had a list of obligations today, so I figured someone needed to check on you. I had time.” A muscle flexed along his jaw-line. “When you weren’t in your hospital room, I thought you might be in therapy—”

“Overexerting myself?” She forced back a smile. Stryke knew her better than anyone.

He nodded. “You always pushed your limits.”

You always tried to save me from myself.

The realization was an eye-opener. She went breathlessly still, looking into the face of the man who’d so often requested that she exhale, that she become fully recharged before taking off on her next adventure.

Brek had never tried to hold her back, as she’d once thought.

He’d only loved her enough to let her go.

“You’re pale.” Concern pulled at the corners of his mouth. “You need to get off your feet.” He stepped back and let her pass.

Taylor hobbled down the hallway with Brek at her side.

A nurse entered her room on her return. Taylor was helped back into bed and her vitals taken. “You’ve overdone it,” the nurse stated. “Your pulse is fast, your blood pressure high. You’re confined to your bed for the rest of the day.”

Taylor blamed her quickening pulse on Stryke, not on the exercises. He’d come back to check on her—one of the biggest surprises of her life. One look at the man and her heartbeat kicked up.

She should be more hardened to him. He was engaged and would be leaving her soon. Yet she couldn’t fight her attraction. Love had a mind of its own.

She licked her lips and had to ask, “Does Hilary mind that you’re here?”

Brek took a moment to answer. He pulled a chair up to her bed, then dropped onto the cushion. He stared first at the wall, then at her, suddenly contemplative, as if he needed to tell her something, yet in the end changed his mind. “No, I can honestly say Hilary doesn’t mind.”

No jealousy from Hilary? The woman must be secure that Brek loved her.
Lucky lady
, Taylor thought. Hilary and Brek would soon marry and start a family. And Taylor would go it alone.

Emotion swelled her heart, and loneliness swept her inside. She’d never felt sorry for herself. Yet at that moment she faced a head-on collision with her grief.

“I miss my parents.” She’d never said the words out loud, but they slipped out today on a sad sigh. She felt vulnerable and incredibly tired. Alone and lost.

From deep inside her soul, Liv’s and Stephan’s memories embraced her, bringing both happiness and sorrow.

She’d never cried over their untimely deaths. Never shown any emotion whatsoever. She’d once been afraid that if she leaned on Brek, if she let him ease her pain, she’d lose herself.

She’d held on to the hurt as tightly as their memories. She’d kept everything so bottled up inside her, at times she couldn’t breathe. She was having trouble breathing now.

White-hot pain jammed her chest. She shut her eyes to keep in the tears, yet emotion rose and choked her. She finally admitted that at the end of every day, she’d missed Brek as much as she did her mother and father.

“Taylor . . .” Brek must have sensed her need for him. “You don’t always have to be strong. I’m here for you.”

He’d always been there for her. She’d been too blind running away from him to see how solidly he’d stood and awaited her return. No matter how wild her escape, he’d always welcomed her home.

He’d loved her more than she deserved to be loved.

She opened her eyes and looked at him then, finding his expression gentle and kind and knowing. His slate blue gaze held understanding. The anguish in his soul mirrored her own.

He understood her pain.

She felt her heart break; the fracturing sadness of her parents’ deaths was finally released. Years ago she’d held Stryke at arm’s length. Today she reached for him.

“Hold me. I hurt.”

Brek eased onto the edge of the bed and held her. He kissed her forehead and let her cry.

She cried her eyes out. Her body shook, and Brek absorbed her sadness. Strong. Sensitive. Vital. He lent her his strength.

“My parents died so unexpectedly.” Her voice was watery. “I felt betrayed and left behind.”

He smoothed back her hair and rubbed her back when she hiccupped and couldn’t catch her breath. He gently patted her shoulder.

“My adventures kept me close to them.” She sniffed, sighed, then broke down again. “You wanted me to stay home, and I felt trapped. I needed the wildness of nature to hold on to their spirits.”

“I never knew how to make it better for you,” he told her. “I watched you withdraw and leave me farther behind with each adventure.”

“I didn’t want you to heal me then, but I need to heal now.”

He held her tightly, handing her tissue after tissue until she’d gone through the entire box. He offered her water when her throat turned scratchy.

“I’m sorry I left you at the altar.” Her voice was soft. “I was hurting so badly, I couldn’t see straight. But I never meant to take you down with me.”

Long after her tears had dried, Brek remained a solid wall to lean on, offering soft words and comfort.

She pressed her cheek to his chest, to the one dry spot on his rugby shirt. The steady rhythm of his heart calmed her. She felt protected and safe.

Brek had shared her pain. He’d helped her heal.

“I loved you, Stryke. Never doubt that.”

She wished with all her heart that she could have a second chance with this man. Yet in a very short time he’d be returning to Hilary. His fiancée. His future.

Taylor shifted and lifted her chin—just as Stryke turned his head.

Their mouths were separated by nothing but breath.

She inhaled.

And he exhaled.

The air warmed and stirred with their need to taste. Their bodies heated from closeness and familiarity. The slightest move—