She shook her head at him—whispered, “Rake…no.” But the kid robbing the store was already nervous, and he leveled the gun at Rake.
“It’s cool, man,” Rake said, raising his hands out to his sides. “Just don’t hurt the girl. I ain’t gonna try and stop you. Take the money, man. Just let me take the girl out of here so she doesn’t accidentally get hurt.”
“You move and I’ll kill you, man! You hear me?” the robber shouted.
“It’s cool, man,” Rake said. “I won’t try to stop you. Just keep the gun pointed at me, okay?” Rake looked to the cashier, frowned, and growled, “What’re you waiting for? Give him the cash.”
Aspen swallowed hard—glanced away from the gunman long enough to see if the cashier was doing as he was told. The cashier’s hands were trembling so violently he could hardly get the money out of the register.
“Hurry up, man!” the gunman shouted.
Aspen looked back to Rake—terrified! The kid’s hands were shaking, but he was too close to Rake to miss if he decided to pull the trigger. Everything, every moment spent with Rake, began flashing through her mind—the day they’d met, their first kiss, the moments they’d spent in each other’s arms only a short time before. How could this be happening? How could it be that a man was now pointing a gun at Rake, threatening his life?
“This is all there is,” the cashier said, shoving cash into a plastic grocery bag.
“Give it to me!” the kid shouted. “Now!”
The cashier tossed the bag to the floor at the kid’s feet. Keeping the gun leveled at Rake, the gunman reached down and picked up the bag.
“See…it’s all good, man,” Rake said.
“Give me your wallet, man,” the kid said, nodding at Rake.
“No problem,” Rake said, starting to reach around to his back pocket.
“No way! No way!” the gunman shouted. “She can get it.” He looked at Aspen and said, “Get his wallet for me.”
Aspen nodded and moved toward Rake, glad to be nearer to him. She reached into his back pocket and removed his wallet.
“Put it in my hand, and get behind me,” Rake told Aspen, though his attention never left the gunman.
“But—” she began to argue.
“Aspen…just put it in my hand,” he growled.
Aspen handed the wallet to Rake.
“Get behind me,” Rake said. Aspen stepped behind Rake, trembling with terror—trying to comprehend what was happening.
Rake slowly stretched out his hand, offering his wallet to the kid with the gun.
“Take it, man,” Rake said. “Just take it and be done with this.”
The gunman reached out, snatching the wallet and shoving it in his own back pocket. Arrogant with his own success, the kid chuckled, waving the gun at Rake.
“You some kind of hero or what, man?” the kid asked. “Look at you…all standing in front of your girlfriend like you could keep her safe.” He seemed to study Rake from head to toe—chuckled again.
“Man, you got your money,” Rake said. “Just take off.”
“Don’t be telling me what to do, man!” the kid shouted. “I’ll go when I feel like going!”
“That’s cool,” Rake said. “That’s cool. Take your time. But I’m guessing there’s a silent alarm by the register…so take your stuff and get out before the cops get here.”
The kid looked to the cashier, then back to Rake.
As if simply by the power of suggestion, Aspen saw an unmarked police car pull up to one of the gas pumps. Unfortunately the kid saw it too. He swore as panic engulfed him. He leveled the gun at the cashier and fired once. The cashier ducked behind the counter, and Aspen screamed as she felt Rake throw her to the floor a split second before two more shots rang out!
In a whirlwind of confusion, two police officers suddenly broke through the door, shouting at the gunman to drop his weapon.
“You okay, baby?” Rake asked as he raised himself to a sitting position.
“I’m fine,” Aspen sobbed, throwing herself into his arms. She clung to him, trembling and sobbing, frightened beyond any description by what had just happened. It wasn’t until she felt the warmth of it—the silky warmth of Rake’s blood on her hand at his back—that she realized exactly what had happened.
Pulling away from him, she screamed as she saw the blood draining from his body from the two bullets holes in him. One was at his shoulder, blood trickling down over his torso. The other wound, however, was worse, right below his left pectoral muscle—and bleeding with profusion.
“Rake!” Aspen screamed. She took his face in her hands as he coughed, spitting blood over his chin.
One of the police officers hunkered down next to Rake as he sat back hard on the floor. He pulled the radio from the shoulder of his vest and called for an ambulance.
Aspen looked at her hands, now soaked in Rake’s blood.
“Rake!” she breathed as the police officer inspected the wounds.
“He’s hit twice,” the officer said. “Looks like it got his lung.” He pulled his radio from his vest again and gave further instructions to the dispatcher.
Aspen didn’t hear what he said, however. Rake was bleeding—coughing up more blood—his face suddenly as pale as death.
“Rake?” she cried. “Oh, no! Please…please don’t…”
“I-in my l-left pocket,” Rake choked. Aspen couldn’t breathe—felt her heart hammering so hard she was sure she would die!
“S-shhh,” she soothed, stroking his hair as he coughed. He turned his head, spitting blood from his mouth, struggling to put his left hand in the front pocket of his jeans.
“Aspen!” he coughed. “D-don’t argue with me right now.” He choked—spit more blood from his mouth. “In m-my left pocket. R-reach in there. Do it now.”
Aspen shook her head. “Rake, I-I…” she began. She couldn’t think—could hardly breathe! She felt unconsciousness threatening—clouding her thoughts—making her dizzy.
“J-just reach in there,” he moaned. He grimaced again, and she knew he was enduring incredible pain.
“Just take shallow breaths, sir,” the policeman said to Rake. The police officer looked to Aspen. “The EMTs are on their way…but we have to keep him calm…keep him breathing.”
Aspen gasped as Rake’s trembling, bloody hand reached up, taking hold of her chin.
“Listen to me,” he breathed. His dark eyes seemed empty—void of the smoldering fire that so often burned in them when he looked at her. “Here,” he said. He struggled to slip his left hand into his left front pocket. He released her chin and took hold of one of her hands, drawing it away from his face. She looked down, nearly paralyzed by the sight of the blood trailing down his chest, soaking his pants at the waist. She felt him slip something into her hand.
“I finally found something worth dying for, Aspen Falls,” he whispered. Aspen opened her hand—now soaked in the crimson of Rake’s blood. She couldn’t breathe! As she looked at the diamond solitaire engagement ring bathed in a pool of Rake’s blood puddled in the palm of her hand, Rake Locker closed his eyes and breathed, “You.”
Epilogue
Aspen forced one eye open to a narrow slit. The red digital numbers on the alarm clock said four fifty-five. She sighed, wondering why she always managed to wake up five minutes before the alarm was set to go off. Reaching over, she slid the alarm button to off and snuggled deeper beneath the covers.
She’d been dreaming—a remembering sort of dream—dreaming of the night Rake Locker had been shot. She hated the memory and certainly hated when she dreamt about it. Almost a year later, the shooting still haunted her dreams.
Rolling over, Aspen let her hand softly travel over the firm contours of her husband’s stomach and chest. She snuggled against the warm security of his strong body.
“It’s almost five,” Aspen whispered, nuzzling his shoulder with her cheek.
“You’ve gotta be kidding,” Rake grumbled. He inhaled a deep breath,
stretching for a moment before gathering Aspen into his arms and kissing the top of her head.
Aspen smiled, blissful in the loving protection of Rake’s arms. Oh, how she loved him! Most mornings she still couldn’t fathom how it all happened—meeting Rake, falling in love with him, him falling in love with her. She couldn’t believe it had been almost a year since the shooting—that they’d been married almost nine months! Yet there he was—holding her in his arms as they lay in the comfort of their bed—toying with a strand of her hair as he endeavored to wake up.
“Let’s just stay here,” he said. “I can be as interesting as the special shapes balloons…I promise.” Aspen giggled, tilting her head to look up at him. He was grinning, though his eyes were still closed.
“I know that,” she said, raising herself on one elbow. He opened his dark eyes and looked at her. “But we promised. And anyway…at least we didn’t have to get up in time to be out at the field.”
“But it’s so warm in here,” Rake said. “I’ll be cold if I get out of bed.” He raised himself up on one elbow, smiling as he lounged next to her.
“That’s because you never wear pajamas,” Aspen said. “If you’d wear something besides your underwear…”
“Look who’s talking,” he chuckled, toying with the collar of his old flannel shirt Aspen had taken to wearing as a nightgown.
“It’s flannel. It’s warm,” Aspen said. She loved Rake’s old shirt—the one he’d been wearing the day he’d taken her out to the river to watch the balloons a year before. Sure, it was missing part of one of the front tails. Rake had torn it into strips to hold tin mugs of hot chocolate. Still, Aspen knew it was one reason she liked the shirt so much. It held significant value—not to mention she loved wearing Rake’s shirts. Wearing his shirts always made her feel like he was right next to her—and that she cherished!
“It’s a rag,” he said. Smiling, he added, “But I’ll admit it’s my favorite thing you wear to bed.”
“Well, it’s why I’m warmer in the mornings,” she giggled.
“Fine,” he said. He kissed her squarely on the mouth. “Then I guess it’s just like ripping off a Band-Aid, right?” Aspen squealed as he pulled the covers off the bed, sending a blast of cold air breathing over them both. “Up and at ’em, arachnophobia girl! The balloons will be launching in a couple of hours…and we still need to saddle the ponies.” Aspen giggled as Rake stood and walked across the room to the bathroom. She frowned for a moment, however, as her attention fell to the scar on his back—the scar left by the bullet that had pierced his lung and exited his body there. Again she was reminded of how close she’d come to losing him that night at the convenience store. She shook her head, forcing the memory to retreat to the darkest corners of her mind. It was over. Rake had survived, and he didn’t like her to dwell on it.
“Let’s see if they’re on schedule,” Rake said, flipping the switch on the wall that turned on the radio.
“Good morning, Albuquerque!” the DJ was saying. “It’s a beautiful day for ballooning, and the Special Shapes Rodeo is right on schedule!”
Aspen sighed. Life was good! Crawling out of bed, she hurried over to the counter and double sinks of the bathroom area. Hopping up on the counter between the two sinks, she watched as her lethally handsome husband brushed his teeth.
“What?” he asked, spitting toothpaste into the sink. He rinsed his mouth a couple times, washed off his toothbrush, and put it back in the cabinet.
“Nothing,” Aspen said, smiling at him. “I just love you.”
He smiled. “Well, I love you too,” he said, moving to stand between her knees and taking her face in his hands. “But if you want to get down to the river in time to see the balloons go over…then you need to quit distracting me.”
Aspen placed the back of her hand against his whiskery cheek. He was so handsome—even more handsome than the very first time she’d seen him, jogging through the park last fall. She studied his dark eyes, straight nose, delicious lips, and square jaw. Perfection!
“Okay,” she said. “You hurry and shower, and I’ll get everything together.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. As Rake Locker placed a moist, lingering kiss to Aspen Locker’s mouth, she sighed. She was reminded exactly what heaven was—it was Rake’s kiss!
“Here they come!” Rake chuckled.
Aspen turned to follow Rake’s gaze. Sure enough, just over the tree line to the east, the giant brown UPS truck special shapes balloon was drifting toward them. Aspen raised her hand to shade her eyes from the sun. As the balloon drifted closer, she smiled.
She waved as Rake called, “Good morning, kids!”
“Good morning!” Gina called from her place in the basket.
Aspen pulled her camera out of her pocket and began snapping photos of Gina and Sean aloft in the basket of the balloon.
“I didn’t think you guys would drag yourselves out of bed long enough to come out here!” Sean hollered as the balloon descended a little. “We barely made it ourselves!”
“It was a sacrifice,” Rake laughed. “But we love you guys enough to do it!”
“Aspen!” Gina called. “Take one of us kissing!”
Aspen giggled as she watched Gina take hold of the lapels of Sean’s brown UPS jacket and kiss him. Holding the shutter button down, she let the camera continually snap for a few moments as Sean wrapped Gina in his arms as they kissed.
“Hold on!” the man piloting the balloon shouted.
Rake stepped up behind Aspen, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her back against him as they watched the bottom of the basket smoothly skim across the water. As the balloon began to ascend again, the passengers in the basket clapped with delight.
“Meet us at Weck’s for breakfast!” Sean called.
“You got it, man!” Rake shouted as the pilot laid on the burner and the balloon rose up and up—higher and higher.
Aspen sighed as the UPS truck balloon disappeared into the west. Several other balloons hovered overhead—peaceful, serene in their drifting. She inhaled deeply, relishing the crisp October air—the scent of the cottonwoods, of Rake’s cologne. The river meandered on its way, glistening like a ribbon of glass in the morning sun.
Suddenly, Aspen turned in Rake’s arms, pressing her body against his as his strong embrace enveloped her.
“What a perfect morning! It’s one of the most perfect mornings I’ve ever known,” she sighed. She looked up at him, and he smiled, his dark eyes smoldering with love and affection—adoration and happiness.
“Why’s that?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
“Because I woke up with you,” Aspen whispered.
Rake caressed her lips with his thumb and said, “But you wake up with me every morning.”
“I know,” Aspen said. “That’s why every morning is so perfect now.”
He laughed for a moment and slipped a hand around to the back of her neck.
“Wanna make out before we head over to Weck’s for breakfast?” he asked.
Aspen giggled. “Of course!”
She watched as his brow puckered into a frown. “Do you think your stomach can handle breakfast yet? It’s kind of early.”
“The morning sickness hasn’t been so bad these past couple of days. I’ll just eat light,” Aspen said. “Now shut up and kiss me, you big ex-bull-riding, watchmaking, vampire daddy-to-be.”
“Whatever you say, arachnophobia girl,” Rake breathed as his head descended toward hers. He kissed her lightly at first—teasing her with the promise of a deeper, more passionate exchange. His kiss consumed her next—raining bliss over her body—sending a surge of euphoric ecstasy through her veins.
Rake paused, the smoldering fire of his eyes mirroring her reflection as he whispered, “‘And the moon and mountain blend kisses…as the time of aspen falls.’”
Author’s Note
In reality, there are more true-to-life moments, personal affi
nities, and incidents in The Time of Aspen Falls than in any other book I’ve written—at least, since An Old-Fashioned Romance. Those closest to me know how desperately I have missed my beloved Albuquerque, New Mexico, from the moment I left almost twelve years ago. Likewise, anyone who knows me even a little and reads The Time of Aspen Falls can’t possible miss the obvious affection I hold for the city of my birth.
Nestled in the Rio Grande Valley—the Sandia Mountain to the east and the Mesa to the west—Albuquerque has a way of sifting into a person’s soul and never leaving. I’ve talked to so many people along the life’s road, so many who have lived in Albuquerque and had to leave, yet eternally long to return. Albuquerque settles in your heart the way no other place does.
Just as An Old-Fashioned Romance incorporated many aspects of my personal life—Breck’s four best friends and my love of pumpkins, for instance—The Time of Aspen Falls is almost a mini travel log of a few of the things I love about Albuquerque. A couple of friends who once lived in Albuquerque read this book as I was writing it. They expressed to me the profound sense of homesickness it initially rinsed over them, but the humor and romance soon distracted them into wholeheartedly enjoying it—thank goodness!
Just for fun:
The restaurant Sadie’s, where Rake takes Aspen on their first date, is real! It’s located in Albuquerque’s North Valley, close to where I grew up. Waiters and waitresses at Sadie’s walk around with a pitcher of water in one hand and a pitcher of the best salsa you ever tasted in the other. Sadie’s is absolutely my favorite New Mexican restaurant! How could I resist incorporating Sadie’s fabulous food into this book? Hello? Delicious! Though you can order their salsa online, it does taste different, being that it’s canned instead of fresh from the pitcher. So order online if you like, but it’s best to just pop on down to 6230 4th Street and have a few bowls of the fresh stuff.
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