by Marin Thomas
Dixie’s eyes widened. “You were?”
Sylvia set the kettle on the stove and joined Dixie at the table. She squeezed Dixie’s hand. “I’m sorry about the baby, honey.”
The heartfelt words touched Dixie. “Thank you.”
“My son needs you.”
And I need him. “Do you know where Gavin is?”
“He’s at his therapy appointment.”
Therapy? “Did he injure himself in a rodeo?”
“Not that kind of therapy.” The kettle whistled and Sylvia spent the next few minutes preparing the tea. When she sat down again, she said, “Gavin’s seeing a psychologist.”
“For what?” Had losing the baby affected him more than Dixie believed?
“It’s not my place to tell, honey.”
“I need to talk to him.” I need to tell him I love him.
Sylvia’s teeth worried her lower lip as if uncertain about confiding in Dixie. Finally she rose from the table and scribbled on a notepad by the phone. She tore off the paper and held it out. “His appointment ends in thirty minutes. If you hurry, you could wait for him outside the building.”
Dixie grabbed the address and rushed to the door. “Thank you, Sylvia,” she called over her shoulder. As soon as Dixie got in the truck, she input the address in the GPS system Johnny had insisted she use when she’d left to search for Gavin. The medical building was less than ten miles away.
The Phoenix freeways were busy and full of crazy drivers, forcing Dixie to concentrate on the road and not allow her thoughts to wander to Gavin. The GPS signaled her to exit the freeway and the medical building was only a mile up the street. She pulled into the parking lot and drove past the various entrances, reading the numbers etched into the glass on the doors. When she spotted 130B she pulled into a space nearby and waited.
She didn’t have to wait long. Gavin emerged from the building, pausing to put on his sunglasses. Dixie honked the horn and he froze, his gaze scanning the lot. She got out of the truck. Like cement blocks, her feet dragged across the pavement as she walked toward him. She knew the instant he spotted her—his shoulders stiffened and he glanced along the sidewalk as if seeking an escape route. Dixie’s heart sank. She stopped short of the sidewalk and swallowed hard. Please be happy to see me, Gavin.
“I’ve been looking all over for you,” she said. No sense pretending she’d just happened to be in the neighborhood.
“How did you find out I was here?”
“Your mother. She gave me the address.”
His mouth pressed into a thin line.
“I need to tell you something, Gavin.”
Gaze fastened to the pavement, he removed his sunglasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. When he finally lifted his head, the wounded look in his eyes broke Dixie’s heart. “Don’t say anything.” He shook his head. “Just...don’t. Please.”
She wasn’t letting him off the hook that easy. “I love you, Gavin. I didn’t want to admit it, but I began falling for you the night we went to your motel room after the Boot Hill Rodeo.”
“You can’t.” He shook his head and fisted his hands.
“Can’t what?”
“Love me.”
If she could just touch him... Show him the depth of her feelings... “Why can’t I love you?”
“I’m not...” He walked away then stopped and faced her. “I’m not well.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m sick, Dixie.” He punctuated the remark by poking himself in the head.
“Are you trying to scare me away?”
He took her by the arm and escorted her to her pickup where he opened the door and all but shoved her into the driver’s seat. Once he shut the door, his shoulders relaxed as if relieved to have a barrier between them.
“I’ve been diagnosed with PTSD,” he said. “That should damn well scare you.”
Dixie had heard stories of soldiers returning from war who struggled with the medical condition. Things didn’t always end well for many of them. The thought of Gavin suffering alone made her heart physically ache. “But you’re working on getting better.” She motioned at the door to the medical office.
“Being with you made me feel better so I ignored my problems and convinced myself that you could heal me.” He rubbed a hand over his exhausted face. “That wasn’t fair to you.”
“I’m glad you’re getting professional help, but you don’t have to push me away.”
“There’s no cure for PTSD, Dixie.”
“So this is it? You’re going to take the coward’s way out and use your PTSD as an excuse to run from what we have?”
The muscle along his jaw bunched—the only signal that her words had angered him. “You can learn to manage your symptoms, Gavin. It doesn’t have to keep you from living the life you deserve.”
“Easier said than done.”
“Let me help you.”
“No.” He raised his hands as if warding her off. “I can’t trust myself not to hurt you.”
“But you’ve never lost control before.”
“I have nightmares, Dixie. Horrible nightmares and they’re becoming more intense.”
“Why?”
“My shrink thinks it’s because of the baby and—” He looked away. “You.”
Dixie understood losing the baby might cause a relapse, but...her? “What have I done to distress you? Tell me and I’ll stop doing it.”
“You’ve done nothing wrong.” He slammed his fist against his chest. “Not a damn thing except make me love you.”
“You love me?” Tears leaked from her eyes and her heart swelled with hope.
“I love you enough to know that I’m not the right guy for you.”
“But—”
“Just go, Dixie.”
“I’ll wait for you.”
“No. You have to move on with your life.”
“Well, that presents a problem, Gavin. I can’t and I won’t get on with my life without you.” Dixie paused, giving him a chance to speak. When he remained silent she grasped at straws. “The love I feel for you isn’t something I can turn on and off like a faucet. My love won’t fade away just because we’re not together.”
He stared into the distance and Dixie felt her hope slipping away.
“Can’t you find enough strength inside you for one more battle, Gavin? For me? For us?”
Please, Gavin. Please fight for me because without you... She couldn’t finish the thought. She started the truck and shifted into Reverse. “Take as long as you need to get better, because I’m not going anywhere.” Dixie backed out of the spot. Before leaving the medical plaza she checked the rearview mirror. Gavin watched her, the desolate expression on his face tearing her apart.
Find your way back to me, Gavin.
Late that night Dixie pulled into the farm and Johnny met her at the door. “You look like hell. What happened?”
She waltzed past him into the kitchen, then sank onto a chair at the table. “I found Gavin.”
Johnny poured her a cup of coffee. “Where was he?”
“In Phoenix at his mother’s place.”
“Well...?”
“He’s seeing a psychologist for PTSD.”
“That’s rough.”
“I told him it didn’t matter. That I still loved him.” The tears she’d held inside her during the drive back from Phoenix threatened to escape. “Gavin doesn’t want us to be together unless he can trust himself not to lose control.”
“Does he love you?”
“Yes.” But he’d made loving her sound as if it tortured his soul. “He told me to move on with my life and not wait for him.”
“Is that what you plan to do?”
“Shoot, no. I’m staying
right here until he comes to his senses and realizes that I’m the key to finding the peace he’s searching for.”
Johnny grinned. “Now, that’s the spirited girl Grandma Ada raised.”
His words made Dixie smile. “I better get to bed if I’m going into the store early tomorrow.”
“Speaking of the store, you were right,” Johnny said.
“Right about what?”
“Porter damn near sold out your inventory.”
“Looks like I’ll be putting in longer hours.” She shuffled from the room but stopped when Johnny called after her.
“Dixie?”
“What?”
“I’ll talk to Gavin if you want me to.”
“Thanks but this is something Gavin has to work through on his own.” Dixie just hoped that knowing she waited for him—that she wasn’t giving up on their love—was enough to help Gavin find his way back to her.
* * *
CHRISTMAS CAME AND WENT as did New Year’s and still no word from Gavin—just a holiday card from his mother informing Dixie that he’d continued to see his therapist and was working a part-time construction job. Tomorrow was February 1—almost twelve weeks had passed since Dixie had confronted Gavin outside his therapist’s office.
Several times a day she picked up her phone intent on calling him just to hear his voice. It was doubly hard, like now—during the long ride home after a day at the gift shop—to resist reminding Gavin that she was still waiting. Her resolve to remain strong and give him the space he needed weakened with each passing day. The excitement of running her own business had waned in the wake of Gavin’s absence. Even the sunrise and sunset had lost its glow.
Dixie took the turn off to the farm, glad tomorrow was Monday and the gift shop was closed. She’d use the day to catch up on housework and laundry and think about Gavin and how much she missed him. She slowed the truck as she drove into the yard and parked by the barn. Halfway to the house she stopped, her heart pounding.
Gavin’s truck sat among her brother’s vehicles.
He came home.
Switching directions, she walked over to Gavin’s pickup and placed her hand on the hood. Cool to the touch. How long had he been here? How long did he intend to stay?
“Gavin?” she hollered when she stepped through the front door.
“He’s not here,” Buck’s voice floated down the hallway.
Dixie hurried into the kitchen. Her brothers were playing cards at the kitchen table—what else was new. “Gavin’s truck is parked outside.” She stated the obvious. “Where is he?”
“Out back,” Willie answered.
Out back comprised two hundred acres. “Can you narrow it down?”
Johnny cleared his throat and her brothers tossed their cards down and shuffled from the room.
“Oh, God. It’s bad, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know, Dixie. When Gavin got here, he asked to speak with you.”
“What’d you tell him?”
“That you were still in Yuma at the store.” Johnny nodded to the door. “Go talk to him. He went to Addie’s grave.”
The blood drained from Dixie’s face. “How long has he been out there?”
“Over two hours.”
She stared at the back door until Johnny’s hand on her arm broke her trance. “He needs you, Dixie.”
She yearned to believe her brother, but what if Gavin only returned for answers about the baby? Maybe his therapist had sent him to learn if they’d had a daughter or a son.
“I’m a mess.” She smoothed a hand over her hair.
Johnny spun her around and unraveled her braid. After detangling the strands, he spread her hair across her shoulders. “There. Now you’re pretty.”
“You’ll be here when I get back?”
“We’ll all be here,” Buck said. Her brothers hovered in the doorway. They were pains in the ass, but Dixie felt blessed to have their support. She left the house and cut through the backyard, walking east into the rows of pecan trees. The family plot was hidden behind a rocky knoll.
The sun shone brightly. No clouds—only blue sky. Crystal-clear blue. The day looked like a million other Arizona days. Somehow it didn’t seem right that the world went on undisturbed, unmarred and unchanged after Addie had passed on. At the very least her little girl deserved ominous clouds, booming thunder and gale-force winds—a storm to protest her passing. Dixie trudged on, too tired to shake her fist at the heavens.
The graveyard came into view and she slowed her steps. The small rectangle was enclosed by a three foot high iron gate, which Gavin had left open. The rusty hinges groaned in the breeze.
The closer Dixie drew to the plot the more strength each step required. Gavin knelt at the foot of Addie’s grave—the mound so tiny he could easily reach out his hand and touch the heart-shaped marker Johnny had ordered for his niece. Fresh flowers lay beneath the headstone—Gavin must have brought those.
She stepped past the gate, her gaze landing on her grandmother’s grave. A breath of wind hit Dixie in the face—Grandma Ada giving her encouragement. Dixie sank to her knees beside Gavin. They knelt in silence for the longest time and then Gavin reached for her hand. She gripped his fingers as if they were a lifeline.
Tears she’d already cried for her daughter filled her eyes again and she sniffed. Gavin folded her in a hug and they cried together—his shoulders shaking and her tears dampening his shirt.
Dixie had no idea how long they held each other, but she was grateful that they were finally mourning for their daughter together.
“I wanted to know if we’d had a girl or a boy.”
“She was so tiny, Gavin. So precious.”
“Addie’s with your grandmother now,” he said.
“Grandma Ada will take good care of our daughter until we see her again.”
The sun sunk lower in the sky, smearing the horizon with a warm pinkish-purple hue. “I’m sad we lost Addie, but...” Gavin swallowed hard.
“But what?”
His gaze returned to her face and eyes damp with moisture beseeched her. “I don’t want to lose you, too.”
She flung her arms around his neck and held him tightly. “I’ve waited forever to hear those words, Gavin.”
“I love you, Dixie.” His rough, callused hands clasped her face. “I’ve made progress with my therapist but the scars will never go away.”
“Scars don’t scare me, Gavin, but living without you does.”
He brushed his lips across her forehead. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you. I tried like hell to walk away from you, but I couldn’t.”
“Gavin, I promise—”
He pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her. “I realized that I hurt more from not having you in my life than from all the pain and heartache I suffered in Afghanistan.”
She hugged him tight. “I love all of you—the healed and the hurting.”
“I’m going to need therapy for a long time.”
“Doesn’t matter. We’re in this together for a lifetime.”
“Be sure, Dixie. Once you’re mine, I’ll never let you go.”
She caressed his cheek. “I’ve always been yours and there’s nowhere I want to be except by your side.”
“Will you marry me, Dixie?” His kiss was a gentle caress...soft, fleeting, a whisper of devotion, need and desire.
“Yes, I’ll marry you.” Dixie deepened the kiss, wanting there to be no doubt in Gavin’s mind that she’d stand by his side and love him no matter what his struggles were.
When the kiss ended, Gavin reached into his jeans pocket and removed a jeweler’s box. “This time I’m doing it, right.”
“You already gave me a ring.” Dixie hadn’t taken off the ring since Gavin had slipped it on
her finger months ago.
“You deserve better than someone’s castoff.” He opened the ring box to reveal a one-carat marquise diamond.
She gasped. “Gavin...it’s stunning.” Good Lord, this must have cost a fortune. “It’s too expensive.” She shook her head. “I can’t accept it.”
Ignoring her protests, he removed the pawn-shop ring from her finger and slid the new diamond on. “I want everyone to know you’re mine, Dixie.” He kissed her once again and this time when they came up for air, Gavin stood and helped Dixie to her feet. “Where are we going to live?”
“Right here on the farm.”
“There are six other men in that house.”
“My grandmother left the farm to me, Gavin. It’s mine. My brothers are allowed to live here until they reach the age of thirty-five or get married—whichever comes first.”
Gavin’s gaze settled on the heart-shaped headstone. “I like the idea of being close to Addie.” He grasped Dixie’s hand. “Let’s go tell your brothers to start looking for wives or apartments.”
“No need,” Dixie said. “They’re building a bunkhouse behind the barn.”
“What for?”
“To sleep in after we’re married.”
“You were that sure I’d come back for you?”
“I never doubted for a minute.”
Hand in hand they walked back to the house and for the first time since her miscarriage, Dixie was able to draw a deep breath without her chest hurting. “I’d planned to give you until the beginning of the summer to come to your senses,” she said.
“Or what?”
“Or I’d have driven up to Phoenix and fetched you home.”
“Like a stray dog, eh?” Gavin’s booming laughter echoed through the pecan grove and drew Dixie’s brothers onto the back porch.
They stopped in the yard and Gavin pulled her close, his mouth hovering over hers. “You’re my one and only, Dixie. I love you.”
“I guess this means we’d better finish the bunkhouse sooner rather than later,” Willie said.
“No one’s moving out of this house until they tie the knot.” Johnny sent Gavin a stern look.
Dixie and Gavin approached the porch. “Porter,” Dixie said. “You’d better contact Reverend Thomas right away.” Her brother dashed into the house.
