don’t cry. She’s gonna be all right.”
Dorothy began swiping at her tears as she wrapped the blanket around Cat’s shoulders, then held her close.
“I’ve never been so scared. We thought we’d lost you. Thank God. Thank God. As soon as we get the both of you cleaned up, we’re heading for the emergency room.”
Cat wouldn’t—couldn’t—argue. She was overwhelmed by the depth of everyone’s concern, and when the rest of the family began crowding around her, all talking at once and marveling at what had happened to her, she couldn’t stop the tears. She glanced back once, just to make sure Wilson was still behind her. When she saw him, her gaze went straight to his wet, muddy clothes and his bare chest. The healing bullet wounds were still an angry red. He didn’t look any better than she felt.
She pushed her way through the crowd and reached for him. Wilson grabbed her hand, then stepped up beside her. She patted his chest.
“You need to warm up and get into some dry clothes,” she said, then looked to Dorothy for confirmation.
“And so do you,” Dorothy added.
Cat nodded. As long as they were on the same page regarding Wilson’s recovery, everything was good.
The family followed them down the hall, stopping short at the door to their bedroom.
“If you need something, give a yell,” Dorothy said, then kissed Cat on the cheek. “Thank the lord you’re all right.”
Then she shooed everyone away, leaving Cat and Wilson to tend to their own cleaning up. They went inside, and for a moment simply savored the silence. After the desolation they’d witnessed outside, the familiarity of their neatly kept bedroom seemed surreal. But the longer Cat stood, the stiffer and colder she was getting.
Wilson saw her shiver.
“Into the shower with you,” he said gently.
“You first,” Cat said, concerned about the exertion he’d suffered.
“No, baby. Together. You’re shivering, and I can already see bruises beneath the mud. Let’s get clean and warm, then we’ll deal with the rest of it.”
Cat sighed.
Together.
It had taken her a long time to accept it, but as long as they were together, she knew she could face anything.
The trip to the emergency room had been brief. Wilson was given a thumbs-up quicker than Cat. The staff had taken X-rays to make sure she didn’t have any broken bones, a concussion had been ruled out, and they’d cleaned all her cuts and abrasions. None were deep enough to need stitches, so she’d been sent home with pain pills and blessings.
Now night had come, but Wilson couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he kept seeing the back end of his truck sticking out of the water and Cat floating lifelessly inside it.
Cat was restless, too. Twice she’d cried out in her sleep, and both times he’d eased her with a touch and a whisper in her ear to remind her she was safe. But when she woke just before daylight and slid her arms around his neck, his exhaustion disappeared.
“Make love to me, Wilson. My mind has been stuck on rewind all night. If I have to relive those moments when I thought I was going to die one more time, I’ll scream. I need to remember what it’s like to be alive.”
Wilson rose up on one elbow to gaze down at her face. The room was lit by the blue glow of a full moon shining through the gap in the curtains. Even in the dimness, the scratches and bruises on her body were more pronounced than they’d been when they’d gone to sleep. But then he looked in her eyes. They were on fire. She was still the same strong,
audacious woman she’d been when they’d first met, coming down a staircase in a blazing building with an unconscious man slung over her shoulder, demanding he get out of her way.
“Honestly, Cat, I’m scared to touch you. You’re covered in bruises.” “They’re only skin deep. The ache I have for you is bottomless.”
Dorothy began swiping at her tears as she wrapped the blanket around Cat’s shoulders, then held her close.
“I’ve never been so scared. We thought we’d lost you. Thank God. Thank God. As soon as we get the both of you cleaned up, we’re heading for the emergency room.”
Cat wouldn’t—couldn’t—argue. She was overwhelmed by the depth of everyone’s concern, and when the rest of the family began crowding around her, all talking at once and marveling at what had happened to her, she couldn’t stop the tears. She glanced back once, just to make sure Wilson was still behind her. When she saw him, her gaze went straight to his wet, muddy clothes and his bare chest. The healing bullet wounds were still an angry red. He didn’t look any better than she felt.
She pushed her way through the crowd and reached for him. Wilson grabbed her hand, then stepped up beside her. She patted his chest.
“You need to warm up and get into some dry clothes,” she said, then looked to Dorothy for confirmation.
“And so do you,” Dorothy added.
Cat nodded. As long as they were on the same page regarding Wilson’s recovery, everything was good.
The family followed them down the hall, stopping short at the door to their bedroom.
“If you need something, give a yell,” Dorothy said, then kissed Cat on the cheek. “Thank the lord you’re all right.”
Then she shooed everyone away, leaving Cat and Wilson to tend to their own cleaning up. They went inside, and for a moment simply savored the silence. After the desolation they’d witnessed outside, the familiarity of their neatly kept bedroom seemed surreal. But the longer Cat stood, the stiffer and colder she was getting.
Wilson saw her shiver.
“Into the shower with you,” he said gently.
“You first,” Cat said, concerned about the exertion he’d suffered.
“No, baby. Together. You’re shivering, and I can already see bruises beneath the mud. Let’s get clean and warm, then we’ll deal with the rest of it.”
Cat sighed.
Together.
It had taken her a long time to accept it, but as long as they were together, she knew she could face anything.
The trip to the emergency room had been brief. Wilson was given a thumbs-up quicker than Cat. The staff had taken X-rays to make sure she didn’t have any broken bones, a concussion had been ruled out, and they’d cleaned all her cuts and abrasions. None were deep enough to need stitches, so she’d been sent home with pain pills and blessings.
Now night had come, but Wilson couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he kept seeing the back end of his truck sticking out of the water and Cat floating lifelessly inside it.
Cat was restless, too. Twice she’d cried out in her sleep, and both times he’d eased her with a touch and a whisper in her ear to remind her she was safe. But when she woke just before daylight and slid her arms around his neck, his exhaustion disappeared.
“Make love to me, Wilson. My mind has been stuck on rewind all night. If I have to relive those moments when I thought I was going to die one more time, I’ll scream. I need to remember what it’s like to be alive.”
Wilson rose up on one elbow to gaze down at her face. The room was lit by the blue glow of a full moon shining through the gap in the curtains. Even in the dimness, the scratches and bruises on her body were more pronounced than they’d been when they’d gone to sleep. But then he looked in her eyes. They were on fire. She was still the same strong,
audacious woman she’d been when they’d first met, coming down a staircase in a blazing building with an unconscious man slung over her shoulder, demanding he get out of her way.
“Honestly, Cat, I’m scared to touch you. You’re covered in bruises.” “They’re only skin deep. The ache I have for you is bottomless.”
Similar Books
