Those Cassabaw Days (30 page)

It didn’t come out jubilant, or buoyant like the song was intended. Matt’s unintentional version was sad. Desperate. The sound of his heart ripping in half. Still, he sang it, because it was their song, and she would like to hear it. Softly, for only her ears to hear.

One, two, now we’re off, dear

Say you pretty soft, dear

Whoa! dear don’t hit the moon

No, dear, not yet, but soon

You for me, Oh Gee! You’re a fly kid

Not me! I’m a sky kid

See I’m up in the air

About you for fair

Come Josephine in my flying machine,

Going up she goes! Up she goes!

It wasn’t until Eric arrived, along with the rescue chopper, that Matt knew anything else was going on around him. He hadn’t realized tears were in his eyes. He hadn’t realized his breathing was raspy.

“Come on, Matt,” Eric said, and grasped him by the elbow. “You gotta move out the way so they can get her onto the gurney safely, and get her out of here.”

Matt’s face grew stern, but he rose, stepped out of the way, and the flight nurse and EMT placed a neck brace on Emily, unfolded her body and eased her onto the gurney. They didn’t bother trying to put the wheels down in Catesby’s barn. They just carried her. And Matt rushed out with them.

“Where are they taking her?” Matt asked.

“Into King’s Ferry,” Eric answered. “To their trauma unit. I figured it was best to just make that call.”

Matt nodded as he watched the team load her into the chopper. “It was a good call.” He looked at his younger brother. “Nathan’s inside getting the old man out of the loft.” He inclined his head. “Where she goes, I go.”

“I had a feeling you’d say that,” Eric said, and lifted his phone off his belt. “Jake. Send the chopper out to the north end. Catesby’s place.”

Then, as Emily took off, Matt watched. Waited for his ride.

And prayed everything would be okay.

By the time Matt made it to King’s Ferry Memorial Hospital, Henry was making landfall. Although the storm remained a category one, it was a strong one and King’s Ferry had already lost power. The hospital was running on generator power, and even that kept flickering at times. The wind howled outside, and trees bent sideways, limbs broke off, debris and pine straw and loose paper flew through the air. No one was about—the streets were dead, empty. Trees had fallen over. Henry was wreaking havoc. Emily had been examined, x-rayed, run through CT scans and was now in ICU. She’d hit her head hard—hard enough to have a small bleed that the doctor was worried about.

She hadn’t regained consciousness on her own, and the doctor had felt it best to keep her in an induced coma to keep possible brain swelling down.

It was now a waiting game. The worst kind of game, in Matt’s eyes. He hated it. Hated the hell out of it.

Matt stayed by her side throughout the night. Held her hand. Barely noticed when Eric came in, brought him coffee and left. All Matt could do was sit, stare at her face, the tube going through her mouth and into her lungs to keep her breathing, and watch the forced and unnatural look of her chest rising and falling to the machine’s settings.

Her head had been stitched, an area in the back, and was wrapped in gauze. She wore a hospital gown. And was lying perfectly, completely still. Too still.

Pulling his chair as close as possible to the bed, he leaned his elbows on the mattress, dropped his head and closed his eyes. And prayed.

* * *

E
MILY
FELT A
weight in her hand. She tried to open her eyes, but her lids were so heavy—heavy as if someone had sewn them together. She breathed in, and pushed them open. She blinked several times to clear her vision.

Matt sat close to her, and his eyes were closed, still black-and-blue, his face full of cuts, and his hand was holding hers. She didn’t want to disturb him, so she simply watched. Noticed how his dark lashes lay against his cheek. Noticed the even darker stubble that now covered his jaw.

Her entire body felt sore, and her head hurt, so Emily shifted her weight a little. At least, she tried. The moment she stirred, Matt’s eyes popped open and fastened on her.

“Em?”

Lines creased along the sides of his emerald eyes, between his brows. Emily’s gaze darted around the room, realizing she wasn’t home. “Where am I?” she whispered. “My throat is sore.”

“Shh,” he said softly. “Don’t talk.” A wan smile pulled one side of his mouth up. “I know how difficult that probably is for you, but try your best. And just listen.”

Emily nodded.

“You’re crazy, first of all,” he chided. “Do you know that?”

Again, she nodded.

Matt inhaled. “Do you remember the storm? Henry? Being at old man Catesby’s?”

She nodded.

“Do you remember climbing up to the loft in the barn to try and coax him down, and instead falling?”

Emily thought about it. She remembered the storm, yes. Remembered battening down the café. She didn’t remember falling. Slowly, she frowned and shook her head.

Matt nodded. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.” He laced their fingers together. “You worried about Catesby, tried to get him to come home with you. You fell, Em. Fell and hit your head pretty hard.” He stroked her cheek. “You had us pretty damn worried for a while.”

“Is Mr. Catesby okay?” she hoarsely whispered.

Matt fake glowered at her. “Yes, he is. And you’re breaking the no-talking rule.”

She smiled sheepishly and shrugged. “Jep? Owen? Mr. Wimpy and Ms. Frances? The guys?”

Matt frowned. “All fine.” He sighed. “The storm has passed, honey. You’ve been out for three days.” He leaned close. “You want to know damages?”

She nodded again.

“Both of our houses are fine. The docks are fine. Even the dock house only lost a few pieces of tin.” He looked at her. “The Windchimer did good. Lost some shingles, a few wind chimes, some rain got in but we’ve already taken care of it.”

She closed her eyes, relieved. Then, they snapped open. “Is there something wrong with me?”

Matt’s lips quirked. “Yeah. The doctor said you’re weird. For life.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. Then she lifted her hands, looked at her fingers laced with his. With her free hand, she tugged at her blanket until her feet popped out, and she wiggled her toes. All working. She rested her head back, closed her eyes and sighed with relief.

“The doctor wants you to stay in a couple more days, just to make sure you’re all clear.”

She kept her eyes closed and nodded.

“Go to sleep now. Stop bothering me with so much chitchat.”

Emily stuck her tongue out again, then smiled and closed her eyes.

“Hey. Do you remember me telling you how crazy in love with you I am?”

Emily cracked open one eye. She smiled. Shook her head.

Matt drew close, his lips brushing hers. “Well,” he whispered. “I’m crazy in love with you, Emily Shay Quinn.” He pulled back. “Crazy, I tell ya.”

Emily smiled, felt the tears stream from her eyes as she searched the emerald green depths of Matthew Malone.

He had stayed by her side. He’d saved her. And he’d found himself in the process. Her heart eased, and the fear slipped further back into the shadows. Everyone she’d come to love was okay. Henry hadn’t eaten quite as much as he’d have liked to, and that was a good thing, indeed.

EPILOGUE

“
K
EEP YOUR EYES
closed, Em. I swear, I mean it. No peeking.”

Emily grinned at Matt’s barely threatening words. “Okay, party pooper. But you’ve got me blindfolded. I can’t see, anyway.”

“Yeah, but you cheat at every turn, so do as I say for once. Even if you feel something crazy, keep them closed. And hang on tight.”

Matt carried her. Where to, she hadn’t a clue. All she knew was that he’d blindfolded her, put her in the Nova and driven somewhere on Cassabaw. Now he was carrying her in his arms.

It’d been two months since Henry had swept over the island. Nearly two months since Matt had come back home, confessed his love. Had it been two months already? Time flew by so fast now. A slight crisp fall feeling clung to the air as September slowly arrived. And she was greedy, wanting to spend every single second with the man she loved. His family, who were now her family.

Matt was no longer a flight risk. Although he’d unexpectedly be called on secret missions—dangerous ones—Emily knew that was a part of him that was necessary. It completed him in a way no one else probably understood, except maybe her. Yes, she’d be fearful when the time came for him to up and leave again. But she’d accept it as a part of who Matt Malone was. He’d come home to her. That much she knew now.

He loved her all the more for it, too.

Meanwhile, Matt had partnered with Ms. Tandy in King’s Ferry and opened up a restoration business specializing in vintage vehicles. Matt was good at it—like an artist. And Ms. Tandy was one smart cookie when it came to business and vehicle parts. She confessed to loving the smell of motor oil and gasoline—and Emily had to agree. Especially if the smell was clinging to Matt Malone. He seemed content now, as if a piece of him had finally anchored. And that old mischievous Matt Malone had finally broken the barriers and was freed. And boy, did Emily love that Matt.

Reagan was planning a trip to Cassabaw on her next leave, and Emily couldn’t wait. Her little sister had called the week before, heading out on a new mission. A short one, she’d said, nothing to worry about. But Emily hadn’t heard from her since, and although she tried to push it away, worry and fear peeked from the shadows of her brain. She prayed her sister would call soon. Matt was right, though. Reagan’s choices were her own. She was happy. What more could Emily hope for?

Matt kissed her temple then, tilted, grunted and set her down. Soon, he was beside her. Emily saw nothing but darkness. Even when she did try to peek, she could see nothing but a slight strip of light coming from beneath her blindfold.

“Matt, come on,” she huffed.

“Patience.”

“Ugh.”

Matt’s laugh was deep, raspy and very, very close. He nuzzled her neck. “I love having you at my whim.”

“Hmm. The whim of a madman. That makes you sound a little cuckoo,” Emily accused.

“Yep.”

A loud hissing sounded close by, and Emily jumped. Matt laughed again, and what was steady beneath their feet now shifted and became unsteady, and then they were lifting, rising, going up. Emily’s arms grasped tightly around Matt’s waist, clinging. “Matt! What’s happening! I want to take the blindfold off!”

“Not yet,” he warned. “Almost. Just wait.”

Emily clung to Matt, who’d started humming softly to himself, then closer, in her ear. It was their song, and in the next second the hiss sounded again, and then Matt’s knuckles brushed her head as he loosened her blindfold.

Emily gasped as she stared over the basket of the hot air balloon, and looked out over Cassabaw Station, way below them.

“Emily—Raife, our driver,” Matt said, introducing the hot-air balloonist.

Emily looked at Raife, who appeared to be in his midsixties. She smiled, and he returned it. “Nice to make your acquaintance, Raife. I really like your dimples. They remind me of a baby’s chubby hands and knuckles.”

“Thank you,” he replied with a grin. “I like yours, too.” Then he went about his business of flying.

Emily turned her face up to Matt. “You’ve brought me to a flying machine, Matt!”

“Yep,” he answered. Then pointed over her head.

She followed his gaze to the sky above Cassabaw, and just in time to see a small airplane doing loops and barrel rolls. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “That’s so cool!”

Matt chuckled and nuzzled her neck. “Keep watching. It gets better.”

As the balloon soared higher over the Atlantic, Emily watched as smoke began to stream from the airplane. Soon, words began to form in the early-sunrise sky, and amid shades of silvery ginger and carroty gold, she made out a sentence.

Be my girl forever? Marry me, Em!
Emily read the words.

Slowly, she turned to Matt, whose gaze shimmered emerald and sage and green mossy moss all at once. Those eyes softened, and he swept a thumb over her lips. “I’ve never seen you speechless before—”

Emily pressed her lips to Matt’s, silencing him into a long, savory-sweet kiss that she thought could’ve lasted for hours. “Yes, yes, I’ll marry you, Mattinski!” she mumbled against his mouth. “I will!”

“Emily Shay Quinn, I’ll love you till the day I die,” he said against her lips. “Forever.”

“And I’ll love you till the day I die, too, Matthew Malone,” she repeated. And kissed him. Reaching for his hand, she hooked her pinkie around his. “Forever.”

He lifted their hands, kissed their pinkies. “Promise?”

She smiled, and joy filled her heart. “Promise.”

Matt wrapped his arms around her, and she settled back against his chest as they rode the sky above Cassabaw, the words lingering in the air like some perfectly airbrushed clouds, and they both began singing their favorite old song.

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from NIGHTS UNDER THE TENNESSEE STARS by Joanne Rock.