“There has got to be a reason he’s still alive,” she whispered.
Isaiah dropped his hands and stepped closer. “Too damn stubborn to die, I imagine.”
She glared at him. “I need him to be stubborn enough to live.”
“He lost a lot of blood. Even if he survives, he may not be right in the head.”
This time she glared at Blade. “Why do you have to be the voice of doom?”
He shrugged. “My nature I guess.”
She shook her head, the weariness she’d been holding off for so long overtaking her. “So the council’s not coming for me tonight?”
Blade’s expression softened. “They’ll leave you be.”
“Good. Then you need to leave. I need to rest.”
When they got to the door, it was Blade who looked back before closing it. “I always knew you’d be a force to reckon with once you found your feet.”
“Is that approval?”
He didn’t answer, just closed the door.
She lowered the sword. Damn irritating man.
* * *
Miranda sat on the edge of the narrow bed. There was just enough room, if she clung to Cole, to make a space for herself. She lay down and put her head on his shoulder, the slow beat of his heart her only security.
Wendy climbed over Miranda and then over him. She couldn’t even lecture the child for maybe disturbing his wounds. When Wendy reached the other side, she wrapped her arms across Cole’s chest, her fingers stroking Miranda’s upper arm. connecting them.
Miranda smiled at her daughter’s solemn face. Wendy smiled back. They fell asleep that way. Shielding Cole between them, arms wrapped around him, holding on to the hope.
* * *
Sometime later a soft tremor of sensation woke her, and her smile took form before she remembered there was no reason for its birth.
“Did you really cut off his head?”
The voice was dry and raspy, but oh my God, so familiar. “Cole?”
The whisper of his lips across her forehead came again. “I’d better be the only man in your bed.”
On the other side, Wendy still slept.
“Oh my God!” Just as quickly she changed it to, “Thank you, God” in her mind. She tried to stand, but his arm kept her anchored.
“Don’t make me fight you, china doll, I’m feeling a bit peaked.”
Even weak, he still had enough force to keep her put; thank God for that blessed strength of his and that stubbornness.
“Did you really cut off his head?” he asked again.
“You heard that?”
He nodded. Arching a brow at her, he repeated, “Did you?”
“I was annoyed.”
The other brow arched to match the first. “Annoyed, eh?”
She nodded.
“I’ll be hearing that story later, but right now, you’re going to tell me what the repercussions are.”
“I don’t know. Blade said they wouldn’t bother me tonight.”
“Is it still night?”
“You can’t see?”
“I can’t tell if it’s dark in here because you’ve got the curtains drawn so tight or if morning’s just coming.”
“Morning’s coming.”
He went to get up.
She placed her hand on his shoulder. He looked at her. “Don’t,” she whispered, “just don’t.”
Just then Wendy woke. “Cole!” She jumped across his chest and hugged him tightly. Miranda didn’t have to be connected to him to feel his pain.
“Careful, Wendy.”
“Hey, little bit.” He gave her a stiff hug and kissed the top of her head. “You been waiting on me?”
“Forever and ever,” Wendy sighed, hugging him again.
“Well, good thing you waited and prayed. It kept me going.”
She propped herself up. “You heard me?”
He nodded and moved her elbow over a bit. His gaze met Miranda’s over Wendy’s head. “I heard you both.”
And he’d stayed with them. Miranda shoved her fist into her mouth, trying to hold back a sob. Reaching over, Cole caught her hand and tugged. Even broken and weak, he was stronger than her. And she went because she needed that hug as much as Wendy.
“I thought I’d lost you.”
“I told you, I’m not so easy to kill.” He sighed. “This is good. Both my girls in my arms. Well worth waking up for.”
“We missed you,” Wendy whispered fervently.
“I told you I wouldn’t leave.”
“Mommy said some promises can’t be kept.”
He chucked her chin and wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “Well, now you know I’m keeping that one.”
Wendy nodded hard. He eased her off his chest. Miranda scooted over to make room. She ended up kneeling on the floor.
Cole kept hold of her hand. “Could you get me some water from the well, little bit?”
Wendy jumped up. “There’s some in the pitcher.”
“Cold water would be better.”
She paused, thought about it, and then nodded. “’Cause of your booboo there?” She pointed to his throat.
He nodded. “Thank you.”
Wendy was off in a flounce of skirts and pigtails. Miranda stopped her before she reached the door. “But don’t tell anyone Cole’s awake.”
“Because of the bad ones?”
Miranda hated her daughter had to know that. “Yes.”
“I won’t tell.” The door slammed behind her.
Cole touched his throat, felt the scab through the bandage. “I must look a sight.”
Miranda could only nod through the tears choking her. He was going to be all right.
His thumb stroked over the back of her hand. “I’m glad you killed the son of a bitch.”
So was she. She eased back up onto the bed. “I made more problems.”
“You did what you had to. There comes a time when the people in charge need to realize there is an end to their power, and that’s usually right about the point where people can’t take any more.”
She stroked her fingers down his cheek. His skin was warm, his energy vibrant. “You weren’t even dead.”
He frowned. “When did all this happen?”
“Two days ago.”
He went still. She didn’t care. She couldn’t stop touching his face, his lips, his eyes. She couldn’t stop kissing him, couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t stop crying. Oh God, he was alive.
“Miranda?” he grunted.
“What?”
“Your elbow is killing me.”
“Oh my God.” Her elbow was digging into his side. “I’m so sorry.” She started to cry harder.
Cole sighed, tucked her against him, and stroked her hair. “You can stop crying, china doll. I’m going to make it.”
“I can’t help it. You just look so good.”
“I look like I’ve been drawn through a knothole backward, rolled in the mud, and tossed in the sun to dry.”
“But still good.”
He chuckled. Wendy came back with the cup of water. Miranda sat beside him and propped him up. She felt his distaste at his weakness. She didn’t care.
“Sip it or you’ll vomit.”
He did, drinking slowly.
Miranda took the opportunity to pull Wendy aside. Kneeling down she pushed the soft brown hair off her face. “I have a job for you, baby.”
She had the child’s full attention. “What?”
“I want you to go find Mister Isaiah. And this is very important, baby. I want you to walk like you’re just going over for a piece of cake. I don’t want anybody to know that Cole is awake.”
She nodded, eyes getting big again. “You think they’ll hurt him?”
Brushing
Wendy’s hair off her face again, Miranda forced a smile. “I just want this secret between you, me, and Isaiah. Can you do that, baby?”
Wendy nodded. “Yes.”
“Then go.”
Wendy turned, stopped, and before Miranda could catch her, darted back and hugged Cole so tightly the breath left him in an “oof.”
“I’m glad you’re back, Daddy.”
On that she sprang up and ran for the door. It banged behind her as she left. Cole stared after her.
“Shit.”
“I’m sorry, she didn’t mean . . .”
“Yes, she did. And rightly so. The kid had the guts to do what I should have done.”
“What was that?”
“Claimed you both in a way no one could misunderstand.”
“You did.”
He shook his head. “No, there’s a difference between playing a role and staking a claim, Miranda. I staked my claim on you, but I left her dangling. I’ll be making up for that.”
“Why? She doesn’t care.”
“Because it’s right.”
It was Miranda’s turn to shake her head. “You’re as bad as the council.”
Tugging her over, he kissed her softly before finishing up the water.
“When it comes to you, baby, I’m worse than the council.” He held out the empty cup. “Now, please, get me another drink of water?”
“Why?”
He grabbed the sheet in his hand. “I’m getting dressed.”
“You can’t even get up.”
He threw the sheet aside. “Watch me.”
He wobbled. She fretted, but in the end he was up. Pale, unsteady, and gritting his teeth, but he was up.
“I don’t know why you’re insisting on this,” she muttered, handing him his clothes. “You should sit down before you fall down.”
“Because it’s time to go.”
“To where?”
He looked at her, hooked his hand behind her neck, and drew her in for a hard, lingering kiss. A kiss that contained all the emotion she wanted to feel. All the words she wanted to hear. A kiss that was over long before she could bear, and then he said one word.
“Home.” He stroked his thumb over her lips, rubbing it across the moist surface as he smiled that smile that made her heart skip. “I’m taking my girls home, Miranda.”
Epilogue
Miranda stood on the cliff looking back over the mist-shrouded valley from which they’d fled. It looked so peaceful in the cool, flat light of predawn. The low-hanging clouds hid its secrets and its flaws. Miranda leaned back against Cole and took it all in with a sigh.
“I came here with such hopes.”
On the horizon the first fingers of sunrise tinted the sky. Behind them Dirk, Cindy, Jenny, and Wendy waited. A ragtag group of refugees fleeing the past, moving toward hope.
Cole wrapped his arms around her. She loved it when he held her so tightly within his embrace, cradled in his energy. She felt so safe and cared for. It didn’t matter that he didn’t say the words.
“And now?” he asked.
She smiled and reached back, stroking his beard-roughened cheek. She could feel his worry. And his impatience. He wanted to get on their way, but she’d needed this time. Leaving this valley . . . she was leaving a lot more than just a house. She was leaving friends, hopes, dreams, people like her. Security. Some good-byes were necessary. Even if they were from afar. Taking a breath, she let it all go. “I’m leaving with more than I came with.”
Cole turned her around, fisting his hand in her hair, pulling her head back while he held her close and safe. Those too-perceptive eyes of his searched hers. “Even if the Rogues believe you dead, there will always be risks out in the world, Miranda.”
Blade had spread the rumor that after the council meeting she’d died of wounds sustained in the battle the day before. It was a weak ploy, but the pack would propagate the rumor. The others’ absences would be explained away through the by-product of dissension. They, like she, only needed the perception of believability.
“I’m not afraid.”
His fingers touched her cheek not with their usual arrogance but with a delicacy that reached all the way to her soul. He had her full attention.
“I am.”
“Why?” She turned her face into his palm. “I want this. For us and for Wendy.”
“Time to go,” Dirk prompted impatiently from behind them.
“In a minute,” Cole responded, not taking his gaze from hers.
“We don’t have that many to spare,” Dirk countered with his usual bluntness. “If those Rogues catch our scent, all those sweet nothings you’re spouting will be for nothing. Especially as you’re not at peak.”
“Shut up, Dirk.” Cole stroked his thumb across her lips. “This is important.”
Yes. It was. Miranda could feel how important it was to him. His energy stroked along hers, whispering things she so wanted to hear. She couldn’t catch her breath.
“What scares you?” Her voice was a breathless wisp of air. She didn’t care as his head tilted ever so slightly to the side and his mouth softened.
“Waking up in the morning without you. Wendy growing up, and young men sniffing around her.” Another stroke of his energy, this one poignantly tense. “Losing you.”
She touched her fingertips to his jaw. They were trembling. She didn’t care about that, either. There was no hiding from Cole. “You won’t ever lose me.”
His lips pressed together. “But you will lose me.”
He was referring to the difference in their life spans. She didn’t care about that, either. “Life doesn’t come wrapped in a bow, Cole. I want what we have for as long as we can have it.”
He rested his forehead against hers. “And then?”
There would come a day when she’d have to say good-bye to Cole and Wendy, but that day wasn’t now. Now was a beginning. She curved her fingers over his, holding him to her. She didn’t look away. “And then I’ll have the memories of something so special it will sustain me until we’re together again.”
For a brief second his eyes closed, and when they opened—oh Lord—when they opened, it was all there. Every emotion he felt. The good, the bad. Just . . . everything. “Goddamn, Miranda Cameron, I fucking love you.”
The tears came unexpectedly, dripping down her cheeks, spreading around his hand, binding them together. Sorrow and hope. Faith and love. So much love pouring over her in strong, deep strokes. Cole giving her all the love she’d ever longed for. “I love you, too.”
His eyes narrowed. “Then why the tears?”
“I never thought you’d tell me that.”
Cole sighed and tipped her head back before placing his mouth over hers gently, easily, almost reverently. Taking the tears and her sob as his, holding her close as their breath mingled. “I want it all, china doll. I want you in my bed and in my life. I want breakfast and lunch and dinner. I want to kiss you awake in the morning and hold your hand at sunset. I want to watch Wendy grow up. I want to give her suitors hell and her children piggyback rides.” He rested his forehead against hers. “I want us.”
She eased her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer still.
“I do, too.”
They stood like that for a moment, two people with one heart. Dirk cleared his throat. Cole stepped back and held out his hand. His smile was more beautiful than the sunrise. “Then let’s go home.”
From behind them, Dirk muttered, “About damn time.”
Yes. Miranda smiled as she took Cole’s hand and turned her back on the valley. It was.
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