The Brides 0f Purple Heart Ranch Boxset, Bks 1-3

by Shanae Johnson

  "Ah, so you'll just hurt her now. Yeah, that makes sense."

  "I don't want to hurt anyone."

  Reed sighed. He reached back in his room and grabbed his prosthetic. He began the process of strapping the limb on.

  When the explosion had happened, Fran's first thought was to the men in his squad. Reed was closest to him. Fran had heard his cry of pain and was the first to witness his loss of limb.

  He'd gone to the man, hefting Reed up and getting him to safety. Fran had been in the process of going back to look for more wounded when the pain in his chest stopped him in his tracks. He still didn't remember when the impact had happened, only its aftermath.

  Fran had fallen to his knees as the cries of his friends and of the civilians whose lives he'd been trying to improve rose around him. He was paralyzed with his own pain, unable to do anything about theirs.

  "A lot of the men and women I know walked into combat with a hero complex," said Reed. "You're the only one I knew who walked away a hero with a martyr complex. I don't think you can be both. You need to make a choice. Are you going to be the man who saves lives? Are you gonna be the man who dies for his beliefs."

  A knock sounded at the door. Fran closed his eyes, knowing who was on the other side. He was still raw this morning and would likely welcome Eva into his arms. Hell, he'd probably scoop her up into an embrace and not let her go, his thumping heart be damned.

  More and more he wished there wasn't a wall separating them. Last night there had been whole houses between them. It wasn't far enough to escape the taste of her lips, the scent of her skin, the desire to get closer. But when the door opened, it wasn't her. It was her brother.

  It was Saturday morning, so the kids hadn't had school. Fran had assumed they would sleep in. But Carlos and Rosalee had proven they loved ranch life and were up with the sun ready to get to work.

  Fran lifted himself off the sofa and went out to the porch with Carlos. The two sat side by side looking out across the ranch as the sun lifted itself into the sky.

  Fran knew this wasn't going to be an easygoing conversation by the strain at the edges of the kid's eyes. Neither was he sure what direction the talk would go in. So, he waited for Carlos to speak first.

  "Are you guys getting a divorce?"

  "No," Fran said more vehemently than he'd meant to. "When I married your sister I gave her my word. You know that a man's word is his bond."

  "Yeah, but marriage is about love and you don't love her. I'm not a little kid. I don't believe in fairytales. I know there's no such thing as love at first sight."

  Fran wasn't so sure. He knew it wasn't love when he first saw Eva. But he had the sense that his life had changed the moment he met her. He'd known she was meant to be in his world from that first hug at the church.

  "I know you guys don't share the same bedroom." Carlos's cheeks reddened as he spoke.

  Fran wasn't surprised he knew his and Eva's sleeping arrangement. Kids were nosey and Fran knew he and Eva weren't hiding that well.

  "You were fighting last night," said Carlos. "I heard you raise your voices."

  "It wasn't a fight. We had a disagreement."

  "Isn't that another word for a fight."

  Fran tried to shrug it off. "Married people fight, they disagree. It doesn't mean it's over."

  "But you left."

  Fran sighed. "I did. I shouldn't have."

  "Why did you?"

  "Because your sister wants something I can't give her. I want to give her what she wants, but I know it's not good for her. I felt like if I stayed close to her, I'd give in."

  "So you ran away?"

  Fran heard a chuckle from inside the house. He wanted to curse Reed. Here Fran was a decorated soldier, getting read the riot act by a kid. "Yeah. I was a coward. All right, here's the truth."

  Fran looked down at the kid. Carlos looked so grown and so young at the same time. Fran knew he couldn't lie to Carlos anymore. Carlos would be the man of the house when Fran passed. Fran had to start preparing him for the responsibilities to come.

  "I'm sick," said Fran.

  "Sick?"

  "I have a heart condition. There's shrapnel, fragments from a bomb, in my chest. They're close to my heart. They move from time to time. One day, a piece could move too close to my heart, and if it does, I'll die."

  Carlos stared at Fran's chest. The kid took a deep breath. His hands balled into fists in his lap.

  He was taking it far better than Fran had imagined. No tears. No whining. Just resolve.

  "I knew it," Carlos finally said. "I knew I shouldn't have believed."

  "Carlos?"

  "You're gonna leave us just like my mom and dad."

  Fran watched the kid shutter before his eyes. Fran felt trapped back in the middle of that blast in Afghanistan, needing to fight for his life so that he could save the rest of his squad. The pain was just as deep and halting. He couldn't reach Carlos.

  "I knew I shouldn't have believed we could be a family forever. You're going to leave just like they did."

  "Carlos—"

  Fran reached for the boy, but Carlos shot out of his reach. Fran could chase him down, but to what end? The truth was the truth.

  Another good deed, another life he tried to make better, and he'd only wound up hurting those he cared about. Again.

  But no. Fran wouldn't let it end like that again. Carlos could still be saved. He could go after Carlos. He would do everything in his power to save the boy.

  Fran leaped to his feet and ran.

  Chapter Twenty

  Eva had tossed and turned all night. She hadn't gotten any sleep as she lay awake waiting for any sign of Fran's return. She'd spent the time planning out exactly what she wanted to say to him.

  There wasn't a single, solitary word of acquiescence in her prepared speech. No. She'd made up her mind. This marriage would be the real thing for as long as they both drew breath.

  She'd even considered moving into his bedroom that morning. But in the end, felt that was a step too far.

  Eva knew Fran hadn't gone far. She'd watched him walk away from her last night. He'd only made it as far as Reed's small cabin.

  She hadn't gone after him. She'd given him the time to cool off, to let his heart settle, before she pounced again. In the meantime, she'd done what any good student would do. She'd begun to research.

  When she couldn't sleep, she’d fired up the spare laptop Fran had; the one which hadn't ever been used before. The one that had shown up the day after her first day of class. The one she thought she'd seen the packaging for go in the trash bin. She fired it up and went straight for the internet.

  The first thing her research told her was that most victims of shrapnel to the body died of their wounds in battle. That wasn't promising. Nearly every case she came across where the fragments had landed near a vital organ was fatal.

  But then she found what she was looking for. There were some cases where soldiers and victims of gun violence had survived shrapnel in the chest. There were even some cases where the shrapnel moved away from the vital organs over time. Or the body put a layer of scar tissue around the fragments.

  That could happen to Fran. She wanted to talk to his doctor. Or maybe they needed to go to a specialist.

  It didn't matter the money. For him, she'd drop out of school, take the partial refund, and put it all into his medical bills. She'd get a minimum wage job, two if it were necessary, to pay the bills to save his life.

  Just as she was planning where to look for work, the front door slammed open. Eva looked up to see her brother. His face wasn't the cheery bliss of the past week. He was angry.

  "Did you know?" Carlos demanded.

  "Did I know what?" Eva said, closing the laptop.

  "That he was dying."

  "Who's dying" asked Rosalee coming out of her room in brand new overalls that Fran had snuck into her room the other day. Rosie looked like a little farm girl.

  Looking back over at her brother
, Eva sighed. She'd spent years comforting her brother and sister after their father's death, during their mother's illness, from her relatives' inconsistencies and unreliability, from the violence of the neighborhoods they had no choice but to live in. This was something she couldn't hide from them.

  "He's not dying," Eva said. "He has metal fragments in his chest.”

  "That could kill him at any minute." Carlos crossed his arms over his chest and glared. It was the same face he'd made as an adolescent when Eva tried to get him to eat his peas. His mind was set.

  "Yes," she conceded. "But he could also live a long and happy life."

  "Fran has something wrong with his heart?" said Rosalee, her voice tremored and her eyes grew large like empty saucers.

  The door opened again, and the man in question walked in. Fran's gaze immediately tracked to Eva's. There was an apology, shame, worry, and wariness all rolled into one there.

  He was out of breath. Heaving lungfuls of air. He doubled over at the threshold of the door.

  Eva and her siblings looked at him. Eyes wide, mouths agape. No one moved as they watched him gulp down air. Rosalee began to wail. Carlos balled and unballed his fists.

  Fran raised his head to her. That set her in motion.

  Eva had him in her arms, taking the brunt of his large body with hers and urging him to the sofa. His gaze was so soft when it met hers.

  "I'm sorry," he said. His voice was quiet as he labored to breathe. "I should not have walked out on you last night. It was cowardly. Please forgive me."

  "You're forgiven. Please just try to calm down. Take deep breaths. You're going to be fine."

  Fran tore his gaze away from her and found Carlos. Carlos came to him, sitting at his right side. "Men don't run from their responsibilities. We're family forever."

  Carlos nodded, clasping Fran's hand. Tears burned at the corners of his eyes. The struggle to keep them in check was evident.

  Fran turned his gaze to Rosalee. "Hey, princess."

  "Please don't die, Fran," Rosalee wailed.

  "I'm gonna try my hardest, okay?"

  "Okay." Rosalee nodded.

  Fran turned back to Eva. "Hey."

  "Hey."

  "I need you to call my doctor."

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The pain was so intense that Fran couldn't speak. Eva leaned over him, concern etched on her pretty face. He lifted a hand, aiming to touch her cheek, to smooth away her worry. But his limbs shook with the effort.

  He hadn't wanted to give up, not on his efforts to reach out to her, not on his desire to stay with her, to be with her for the rest of his life, however long that might be. But his body wouldn't cooperate.

  Eva reached down to his trembling fingers. She curled them in her own. Lifting his knuckles to her lips, she pressed a kiss to each joint.

  Fran felt her whisper into his palm. He felt the formation of the word love as her lips skimmed his palm. Her tongue rose to the roof of her mouth to make the L sound. He felt the burst of staccato breath that would make the ST sound and had to imagine she was begging him to stay.

  He wanted nothing more. He wanted to be her hero. He wanted to be the man who raised a weapon to defend her. The man who went into danger to gather her sustenance. The man who wrapped her into his arms, not only for protection but for comfort. He wanted to be her everything. He didn't want to die to have to do it.

  The moment she'd said that she would marry him, Fran had buried himself in a mountain of paperwork. He signed everything over to her in the event of his death. She and her siblings would never want for anything for the rest of their lives.

  But he'd gotten that wrong. They'd only ever wanted him.

  As the gurney wheeled around a corner, Fran caught his last glimpse of Carlos and Rosalee. Carlos's stiff upper lip quivered as distance increased between himself and Fran. The young man wrapped an arm around his little sister's shoulder. Rosalee was a fountain of tears. Her hand reached out to Fran, but he was beyond her now.

  Fran wanted to scoop the little thing into his arms and tell her he'd be back. That he'd be there for her. More than anything, he wanted to be there for them all. He hadn't wanted his death to be what saved them. He wanted to live for them.

  He hadn't wanted to die a martyr. He wanted to live as their hero.

  All around him doctors swarmed in. They parted Eva from him.

  "I'm his wife," she insisted.

  But her status didn't get her access to the operating room. A woman in a nurse's uniform barred Eva's entry. Reed put an arm around her waist and pulled her close as they wheeled Fran away.

  Eva's body sank into Reed's. Her gaze never left Fran. He saw her eyes brim with worry and fear. Before the door's closed, her lips lifted in the smallest of smiles.

  He knew it took a great effort for that smile. He could nearly read her mind. If this was going to be the last time he saw her, he wanted it to be with her smiling.

  That woman. Thinking of everyone else even to the end.

  Fran fought the pain that centered in his chest. It robbed him of his breath. He couldn't speak to her, he couldn't tell her the words he needed to say, the most important thing he ever had to say.

  He couldn't shout the words, but he moved his lips to communicate the message.

  The effort robbed him of his last bit of strength. The second the last of the three words were formed, he collapsed back down onto the gurney. And his world turned to black.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The waiting room at the hospital was packed. Dylan held a sleeping Maggie on his lap. Reed held a sleeping Rosalee on his lap. Rosie rested her head against Reed's prosthetic arm as he stroked her back with his other hand. Sean and Xavier took turns pacing the small space. Eva sat with her eyes glued to the door where she'd seen the doctors exit to talk with the family of the patients.

  That door had opened three times in the last two hours. She'd overheard three conversations. Two of them had induced tears from the family. And not happy tears. Only one had brought on sighs of relief.

  There were no other families in the waiting area now. Eva hoped the odds were in her family's favor that when the doors opened again, they'd be delivering sighs of relief. But the door hadn't swung open in over forty-five minutes.

  There was silence amongst the guys. No one offered her consoling words. They all knew the chances were that when the doors opened the next time, there would unlikely be any sighs of relief.

  But they hadn't left her side. They'd surrounded her and her family, insulating them as best they could.

  Carlos sat next to her, his eyes on the door just as hers had been for the last hour.

  Eva opened her mouth to offer her brother consolation. But the words stuck in her throat.

  Carlos turned to her. Her baby brother looked so old at the moment.

  "I think we should pray," he said.

  Eva blinked. Those were the last words she expected to hear from him.

  "I was angry at God for a long time," Carlos continued. "I thought he'd forgotten about us when he took Mom and Dad. Then he sent us Fran. I never said thank you."

  Carlos bent his head. After a moment, the others followed suit.

  "Dear God, thank you for bringing Fran to my family. He taught me what I need to know to be a man. That a man takes care of his family. Moms and sisters do that too. Family takes care of family. I promise to do that from now on. If you have to take Fran tonight, please introduce him to my mom and dad so that they can take care of him the way he took care of us. Amen."

  "Amen," their new family intoned.

  A swishing sound brought all of their attention around. There was a man in a white coat standing in the doorway. The look on the doctor's face was grave.

  The men rose. As a unit they moved in closer to Eva, standing at her side, at her back. Eva knew that no matter the news, whether tears or sighs, Fran had given her his love. He'd given her a family that would always have her back and never leave her alone. Still, she wi
shed to have him at her back.

  A tear slid down her cheek as the doctor opened his mouth to deliver the news.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  A bright light shone on the other side of Fran's eyelids. He kept his eyes shut, not wanting to wake from the dream he'd been having. In the dream, he was sitting and talking with an elderly husband and wife. He knew the conversation had been long and pleasant. But at the moment, Fran couldn't recall a single word they'd exchanged.

  What he did hold onto was the warm feeling in his heart, the smile of the wife, the look of approval the husband gave him. As they waved him off, Fran felt somehow empowered to take on the world.

  But he still wasn't ready to wake up. So he stayed in the dream. In the blink of an eye, Eva was there. She stood in the sun, in a dress similar to the one she'd worn on their wedding day.

  Fran walked up behind her. He slid his arms around her and pulled her body back into his. She was safe and content inside his arms. She tilted her face up, and he leaned down and kissed her.

  Sunshine dawned in his heart. Rays of warmth spread as he sipped her in. He pressed her closer to him.

  The light from the other side grew brighter, insisting he wake. Then Fran realized something; he could wake.

  He wasn't dead. He was alive. That meant he could have Eva in the flesh.

  He let go of his dream, and his eyes sprang open. It took a moment for his vision to adjust. When it did, he saw warm brown eyes gazing down at him. They weren't Eva's.

  "You're gonna be okay," said Carlos. "I prayed for you. We all did."

  Fran spied movement beyond the door. He caught sight of his squad. Their heads were turned, speaking to a man in a white coat. Reed caught Fran's eye from the other side of the glass. His friend winked.

  "They said only two people in the room at a time," said Carlos.

  Two people? Fran's gaze slid around. He spied Eva in a chair against the wall. Her eyes were closed, but he saw signs of stirring.