by Reina Torres
Miranda’s mother got to her feet with a gentle assist from her husband, and Trace got to his feet as well.
“Ma’am.”
He wasn’t sure what she needed, but he’d do his best to take care of whatever Miranda’s mom needed.
She surprised him.
No, Dorothy almost bowled him over with a simple gesture of acceptance.
A hug.
When Miranda woke up hours later, it took her a few moments to remember where she was. The soft drone of a tv provided a decent backdrop for the electronic blips from the panel on the wall off to the side of the bed.
A barrage of moments flashed through her mind, some taking her breath away with fear or relief, but it all ended in the same place.
Her.
Here.
In the hospital.
And Trace beside her.
She couldn’t really turn her head all the way to the side, so the staff had found him a comfortable armchair and ottoman combo from the maternity wing. The nurses promised her that he’d be comfortable enough in it to fall asleep. It was the most popular accessory for the dad’s in the recovery wing.
Still in his rumpled clothes, Trace looked every inch a hero.
Her hero.
The only thing she remembered when they’d brought her to her room was his comforting presence.
Hovering on the outer edge of the half a dozen medical personnel that had come to settle her in and made sure she knew what to expect and watch out for.
And when they’d gone, she’d been surrounded by family who each took a bit of time with her before they filed out and went home to let her rest.
And she’d done that at Trace’s insistence.
Watching as he slept in his makeshift bed, she realized just how close she’d come to losing everything.
Most of all what they had just found together.
An errant tear rolled down her cheek. Miranda lifted her hand to brush it away and winced.
“Hey, darlin’, hold on.” Trace shifted on the chair and dropped his booted feet one after another to the ground. “I can get that for you.”
A moment later he was beside the bed, pulling a tissue from the box on the rolling table. When he touched the soft cloth to her cheek, she gave him a soft, appreciative smile.
“Looks like when you retire you have a good shot at picking up a few nursing shifts here at the hospital.”
He nodded and gave her a thoughtful look as he stroked her arm with his free hand. “You like my bedside manner?”
Sighing, she looked him over from head to hip since that’s all she could see from her bed. “I like it, but I’d love to have you at my side in bed instead of you hovering over me.”
His warm chuckle did all kinds of wonderful things for her blood flow and the way he swept his thumb across her forearm just shy of her inner elbow made her long for more.
He met her searching gaze for a moment and she saw a shadow in his eyes. Not the kind of shadow that came from missing sleep, although he’d missed a lot during the time she’d been held captive.
And if she thought that’s all that it was, she would have let it go.
“What’s got you worried, Trace?”
“Worried?”
He shrugged and shook his head so naturally she might have believed it… before.
“Everything’s good now that you’re safe. Don’t worry about me.”
“Liar.” Her little burst of laughter earned a frown from him.
“Think I would lie to you?”
She gave it a moment of thought and then answered before his eyes darkened even more.
“Not on purpose, Trace. But if you’re trying to tell me you’re fine, you’re lying to yourself.”
“You’re so sure, huh?”
Smiling up at him felt so good. “I’d bet you a mango smoothie.”
He winced. “And I know how much you love those.”
“So, you know you should just tell me why before I nag you to the point of-”
“I could have killed you.”
His voice was so quiet that she thought she’d imagined it at first. “What?”
“He had his boot on your neck. I could tell you were moments away from losing consciousness.”
And she had been. She’d felt it coming.
“And he had that gun to your head.” His voice scratched like sandpaper.
“You did what you had to do,” she tried to reassure him.
“But it wasn’t just that.” Trace swept his tongue over his bottom lip, struggling with himself. “He made a decision. I saw it in his eyes.”
She didn’t speak. Didn’t want to distract him. Some things a person has to work through on their own and she had plenty of time to wait while he did it.
“He wasn’t going to walk away from this. He wasn’t going to go to jail.” Trace swallowed hard and she watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “He was going to take you with him. I had to try to save you. Try to draw his fire-”
Her heart hiccupped in her chest and tears gathered on her lashes again.
“As soon as he lifted the barrel of his gun off of your temple, I fired.”
Miranda remained silent.
“If I had been one second too late. One inch off of the target. Everything… I could have lost everything.”
How her heart could be full of love and splintering in a thousand pieces at the same time, she didn’t know.
But it happened when she heard the way he’d suffered over the decision he’d made in the heat of the moment.
“Trace?”
He took another few breaths before he could look her in the eye. “Yeah?”
“None of those things happened.” She let the words sink in. “All of those hours at the range. Tactical training. And you read him the way a warden learns to judge a wounded animal. You saw the danger. You saw his intent.
“And you saved my life! I fail to see why you’re upset about this.”
There it was. The stormy cloud of his thoughts. As she looked at him, she could see it clouding his mind.
“If I didn’t love you so much, I’d ask the nurse to bring me one of those… one of those… umm… metal bedpans and then I’d chuck it at you.”
The smooth skin between his brows creased with confusion.
“Look, if you want to beat yourself up about things that didn’t happen, then I’m going to help you.” She smiled hoping that he’d see her intentions. “But, me? I’m thankful you took that shot. That one in a… whatever shot. You got him off of me before he could kill me. You kept me alive and as soon as I’m out of this hospital bed I hope I’ll find you in my bed.
“Or that you let me share yours. I might not be able to do much more than order you around for a bit, but when they clear me and my shoulder, I’ll be more than happy to… return any favors that you do for me.”
“Favors?” She heard the amusement in his tone. “What kind of favors?”
His expression had relaxed. The tight tick of a muscle in his jaw had eased considerably and he was almost showing her a full smile.
“Right now,” she sighed, sagging back into the bed when it turned into a yawn, “I’d like you to sit down. You’re too damn tall.”
His laugh was more of a cough. “You like my height.”
“It’s too much work to look up at you right now. Can you sit down beside me?”
It took him a moment and a little consideration, but he lowered one rail on the bed and managed to sit on the edge, his hip beside her knee.
She didn’t have to remind him to be careful, and she knew she never would. With almost reverent care, he gently lifted her arm and held it so that he didn’t jostle her wrist. The bandages were an all too visible reminder of what they’d just been through, but the way Trace trailed his fingertips along her forearm went a long way to easing her pain.
“Earlier,” he lifted his gaze to hers, “you said when you get out of here you wanted me to share your bed, or mine.”
<
br /> “That’s what I said.”
“Well, my place doesn’t have room for all of your animals and I think your abuela would have my hide for asking you to leave that house.”
Her eyes started to drift closed as she felt his fingers soothing her skin over and over. “So?”
“So? I think we better figure out how to get you well sooner, rather than later. I can’t wait to get you home and spend the rest of my life loving you, Miranda.”
“Oh, good,” she sighed, “I thought I was going to have to get out the handcuffs.”
Her eyes opened to look up at him and see what he was thinking. The centers of his dark grey eyes were widening pools of night.
Again, she saw a tick of muscle in his jaw, but this time his lips were curved in a sly smile.
“That could still be arranged.”
Chapter 14
Six months later…
Seguin, Texas – Totes Pecan Grove
Moving in was easy for them in the end. So many of the usual awkward moments didn’t exist since they’d had their share of bumps and twists when he was watching over her, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have problems.
Sloane King Bravo and Hildie Faraday walked into the living room of the farmhouse that was serving as a makeshift bridal suite.
They made it just inside the door when they were pulled into a hug with the bride.
There were so many things that Miranda had wanted to say to both women, but the only words that managed to work their way through the sudden swell of tears were, “Thank you.”
Tissues were passed around as Miranda’s mother hugged both women in turn.
Sloane helped Miranda dry her tears. “Hey… no need to cry. This is a happy day.”
“It is,” Miranda’s smile strengthened along with her voice, “it’s the best day of my life and I owe a lot of it to you two.”
Hildie’s eyes widened in confusion. “We hardly did a thing, sweetie. You’re so damn courageous.” With a wince, she looked at Miranda’s mother. “Sorry, mama.”
Dorothy waved it off with a laugh. “That’s nothing compared to what, Chizue says.”
Miranda’s shoulders sagged. “Y’all know I’m in trouble now. She’s pulled out the middle name.”
The room erupted in chuckles when Dorothy gave her daughter a mock look of displeasure.
“Seriously,” Hildie reached out and took hold of Miranda’s forearm, careful to avoid her wrists, “you’ve made leaps and bounds. You have to know that by seeking out therapy, you’ve done all the heavy lifting here.”
Miranda fought off another wave of emotion with a joke. “Stop talking about my backside.”
“You know I’d kill for your backside, so be nice.” Hildie gave her a pointed look. “It took guts to admit you were suffering and you took the steps to get help.”
Working to swallow, Miranda nodded. “It was Trace, really. He managed to hold me together at night when the nightmares came. He was the one that stood by me when the anxiety attacks rolled right over me. He even let me cry buckets of tears all over his shirts.”
Sloane smiled at her. “He’s the kind of guy every woman needs in her corner.”
Hildie bumped her best friend with her shoulder, lowering her voice. “And in her bed. I bet he’s all kinds of demanding and gruff. I’m right, right?”
“I heard that!”
Hildie flushed to the roots of her hair. “Sorry, mama.”
“Goodness.” Dorothy’s word came out in a rush of laughter. “I need to go fix my makeup I’m laughing too hard.”
Once her mother was out of earshot, Miranda looked at Hildie with a spark in her eyes. “He can be… but a more tender man,” she sighed, “well I hope men like him are out there for everyone.” Looking at her cousin, Suzie and then back at Hildie. “You two can jun-ken-po to see who’s next.”
Hildie’s nose wrinkled in confusion. “What?”
“It’s basically Rock-Paper-Scissors, just slang that Asian Americans use. But don’t worry. You can get the next man. I’m perfectly happy already.”
Suzie’s mom tsked. “That’s not what you said when we were at the store with Miranda when she tried on her wedding dress.”
“Mom!”
Suzie’s mom brushed it off and looked at Dorothy. “They’re forgetting the bouquet toss.”
Gaping at her aunt and then at her cousin. Suzie stared with wide eyes. “If you throw that anywhere near me…”
Miranda grinned at her cousin. “Who was the high school softball pitcher?”
Suzie scooted around the table and stood behind Hildie. “I’m not going anywhere near the reception.”
In the end, the wedding went off without a hitch. Miranda and Trace had kept it small with a maid of honor and a best man, making it easy to keep the ceremony short and sweet. As many of the couples danced on the rented dance floor under lights strung through the branches of the pecan trees, Trace and Miranda walked quietly through the near dark toward the house.
Trace let her set the pace and he wrapped his arm around her in a gentle half-embrace as they listened to the quiet around them.
The few children that had been in attendance were all asleep inside in one of the bedrooms, but the porch was empty and that’s where he wanted to be.
Miranda lifted her gaze to the strings of lights around the edge of the porch. “Those are new…”
Trace smiled into the darkness and kept walking.
It was only when Miranda put her foot on the first step that she paused and looked at him. “You’re really quiet.”
He smiled down at her, enjoying the soft warmth that the lights cast over her beautiful face. “I’m always the quiet one.”
“So, I’m the one that talks the most? Well…” she shook her head and gave him a soft apologetic smile. “I guess I am.”
He remained quiet, wisely so, as they walked up to the porch and she finally saw why he’d brought her to the far side of the house.
Tin lanterns and hurricane lamps illuminated the porch swing, and the table beside it had a small, gift-wrapped box and a shining champagne bucket.
“Ah,” she smiled up at him as she wrapped her arms around his waist and stepped in closer until her nose almost bumped into his shoulder, “you tryin’ to sweep me off my feet, Mr. Carson?”
He kissed her. Open-mouthed. His hands on her hips, bringing her flush against him.
And one kiss became two and three before he pulled back, his lungs starved for air. “I can’t wait to get you home.”
Her hands grabbed hold of his biceps and gave him a squeeze. “I can’t wait to get this suit off of you.”
When she let go and started to reach for the buttons of his shirt, he eased her over to the swing. Once he sat down beside her, he eased her legs up and across his lap. His palms lightly brushed over the ivory colored lace.
“Have I told you how amazing you look in that dress?”
Her smile lit up her face. “About a half-dozen times, but please… go on.”
He laughed and felt his whole heart near to bursting with love for her. “I’ll tell you every day and then some, but right now I have a little gift for you.”
Miranda clapped her hands. “I like gifts.”
Trace rolled his eyes and she laughed in response. “I know you do.” Giving her knee a gentle pat, he reached out and picked up the small box. “Now, I know you don’t like a lot of jewelry, but I got this after your latest session with Dr. Kent.”
He could see that he’d intrigued her and she held out her hands with an eager look on her face. “You’re like a little kid at Christmas.”
“No,” she shook her head, “I’m a bride and it’s my wedding day. May I have my present now?”
He set it in her hand and watched as she pulled the ribbon off of the gift box. It wasn’t until she pulled back the tissue paper that he wondered if he’d chosen the wrong gift.
Lifting the pendant from the box, Miranda turned it from side to side in t
he light. It didn’t take more than a moment for her to smile, but he could see a hesitant look in her eyes.
“It’s the GPS chip.”
Trace smoothed his hand over her thigh. “The University didn’t need it back and I had that made into a pendant.” The oval shaped metal base had jump rings on either side of the pendant. “The jeweler I took it too thought I was crazy,” his tongue swept over his bottom lip as he watched her carefully. “I just wanted you to know, I’ll always find you. Anything that happens, no matter how crazy or scary, I’ll be there.”
He felt her tremble against him.
“There’s two chains.”
He wasn’t sure if he was hearing his own heartbeat in his ears or hers. “One is if you want to wear it around your neck.”
Miranda reached into the box and lifted the smaller chain, holding it between her fingers. “And this is for my wrist.”
Please, he prayed in his head, please don’t let me hurt her.
Since the last session she’d had with her therapist, Miranda had been trying to take the next step.
Her wrists had been an issue.
Not while she’d been in the hospital. The doctors and nurses had kept her wrists wrapped, healing the torn skin with salves and antibiotics. The thick cotton bandages had been fine.
But it was the first day after she returned home that the problems had started. Touching her wrists against… well, anything, sent her into panic attacks.
At its worst, she’d woken up at night, frightened and fighting only to discover that she’d punched Trace and scratched at his arms.
That night she called Sloane.
And the next day, Trace had taken her down to Hopeful Hearts to sign up for counselling.
From there, like he had before, Trace had been with her at every step.
And now he’d given her what she’d been searching for… the next bridge to cross.
They’d gone together to look for something, even some kind of friendship bracelet to wear around her wrist and test how far she’d come since that night. But nothing… not a thing… had been right.
Holding the gold chain between her fingers she brought it closer and lay the end of the bracelet against her skin on the back of her hand.
