Only If You Dare

by Margo Hoornstra

  Before she could respond, she was immediately handed off to his similarly clad partner and escorted to a padded bench in the narrow hallway where a blood pressure cuff was wrapped around the upper part of her right arm.

  “Thank you, I’m fine.”

  “We just need to check out a few things, ma’am.”

  Jonah appeared through the small opening a few minutes later and, shrugging off similar attempted ministrations, came directly over. “You need a trip to the hospital to be checked out.”

  “I’m fine.”

  As the fire fighter scribbled some notes and walked away, Jonah’s arm came around her and remained in place as he sat down.

  “I mean it, Cynthia.”

  “I didn’t hit my head that hard.” Reaching toward the back of her skull, she winced when her fingers landed on a large tender knot. “Ouch!”

  “Told you. You have a nasty bump back there, maybe even a gash.”

  With quick fingers, she probed the wounded area, did her best not to wince a second time, then brought her splayed hand up in front of both their faces. “See? No blood.”

  Her statement complete, she started to rise.

  A strong hand fastened around her wrist to pull her back down. “Which doesn’t necessarily mean no damage. Let’s just say I’m covering the municipality’s butt.”

  “In case I decide to sue?”

  “Possibly.”

  She closed her eyes as a solid arm wrapped around her shoulder. Whether she wanted to admit to it or not, her system had a definite nausea like twinge going on. She spread her hand over her stomach. Eyes still closed, on a hearty exhale, she dropped her head against Jonah’s shoulder.

  “Does that sigh mean I’m getting through to you?” A larger hand covered the one that remained planted on her midsection.

  As much as she wanted to get up, walk to her car and make it home on her own, given the nausea that didn’t seem to be going away, and a head that was beginning to throb, maybe it would be a good idea to get checked out.

  “Okay. I’ll go.”

  “Now you’re making sense.”

  “But, only if you promise to bring me back here to pick up my car afterward.”

  “We’ll see what the doctors say.”

  Rolling her eyes, she accepted his help at they stood.

  Once they arrived at the hospital, Cynthia expected to be inundated with paperwork. Instead, after providing little more than her name and insurance information, she was assigned to a small curtained room in the ER. She eventually came to occupy a sheet draped gurney in there, while Jonah sat in the chair beside her bed.

  After a few moments of silence, she glanced his way. “We shouldn’t be wasting my time or yours.”

  “I have nowhere else to go.”

  Their exchange, such as it was, ceased as one side of the curtain was pushed aside and a white coat clad individual walked in and smiled. “I’m Doctor Simms.”

  His hand was extended first to her and Jonah next. Then he paused as if expecting an explanation of who he was.

  “I was with her when she fell.”

  Leaving the social amenities at that, the doctor lifted a penlight from the breast pocket of his lab coat.

  Jonah didn’t hesitate to offer his opinion. “Her pupils didn’t seem to have any unusual dilation, but I couldn’t be sure.”

  “I should be able to supply a definitive answer.”

  Tiny beams of incredibly bright light flicked into her right eye then out, into her right eye then out, into her right eye then out. She’d started to get used to the irritating practice when he went on to intrude on her left, and it was all she could do to not reach up to bat his hand away.

  He stared into her eyes again. “What day is it?”

  “Friday.”

  “Who’s the president?”

  “She got that one right on our way over here.” At a tolerant glance over one shoulder from the specialist, Jonah sat back.

  “You have a medical background?” Lights returned to torment her eyes as the doctor spoke. Of course he’d be a multi-tasker. “Where were you trained?”

  “The battlefield. A tough but effective way to learn. So many things you never forget, even after seeing them only once.”

  For the first time since his arrival, the doctor’s focus shifted away from his patient to her escort. “How many tours?”

  “Too many.”

  “I was over there for one. And that was more than enough.” He returned the penlight to his pocket.

  Jonah’s affirmative nod was slight. “Not a place I care to go back to.”

  A haunted cast entered his eyes, and Cynthia’s heart squeezed.

  “When were you there?”

  As Jonah gave a few specifics of his deployments, the hands that had begun to probe Cynthia’s skull ceased all movement.

  The doctor turned on his stool to face Jonah as if he’d just identified him as an old friend. “That last was when I was there. I probably treated some of the wounded from your platoon.”

  “Too many of them, I’m afraid.” Jonah’s voice was matter of fact, but steeped in tension. “A few of them didn’t make it. That’s hard to live with.”

  “Yeah. It is. It's very hard to live with.”

  Jonah’s gaze came to rest on Cynthia’s face, and a shiver stole up her spine. “You’d like to think so.”

  The subtle glances the two men had exchanged contained knowledge of shared experiences she couldn’t begin to guess at. And she thought she’d heard it all in the PTSD group counseling sessions she ran. Moderated was more to the point. Letting her patients talk while she listened.

  Something she hadn’t done for Jonah. The one person who meant more to her than the rest of them combined.

  “Any headaches? Blurred vision?”

  She jumped when the doctor’s focus returned to her and pulled her gaze away from Jonah’s face. “Nope.”

  The rest of her exam went quickly and, after various x-ray results were reviewed and explained to her, Cynthia was given the all clear. As a nurse went over her discharge instructions and Cynthia signed a myriad of release forms, her thoughts remained on Jonah.

  Specifically, what she wanted—needed to—say to him once they were outside and alone.

  It was dusk by the time the emergency room door shut behind them. Thankful for the glow of the street lamps they passed walking to Jonah’s car, she studied his profile in the flashes of light.

  Though his dark eyes revealed nothing about his inner thoughts.

  “No concussion.” She started the conversation when the silence between them became too difficult to handle any longer.

  “That’s good.” He looked her way for the space of a heartbeat before his gaze turned forward again.

  “Just a few bumps and one nasty bruise on my backside. And believe me, though I haven’t seen it, I know exactly where the danged thing is located.” If she attempted humor, it wasn’t working.

  “I don’t doubt that.”

  His arm had been a firm anchor around her shoulders since they exited the curtained cubicle. But when he let go to open the car door for her, all she wanted was to scramble back into its comfort. Once she sat down, the door slammed.

  “You did what I asked.” He climbed in, and a second door slammed. “Now I’ll do the same for you.” His voice was flat and matter of fact as he started the engine. “Take you back to your car so you can go home.”

  “Jonah. I was wrong, and I’m so very sorry.”

  His hand froze on the gear shift. “About picking up your car? I can just give you a ride home then.”

  He obviously wasn’t going to make this easy for her, but who could blame him?

  “You know, I always tell my patients they need to focus on reality, to believe in what is, and go from there.”

  “I understand you care about your patients. I’m not one of them.”

  What did he think? That she was creating notes for one of her counseling session? “I w
as wrong about—I should have admitted to myself how much you mean to me and let you know, too.”

  “It might have been nice.” He didn’t respond with anything more, just put the car in gear and pulled away from the hospital.

  The litany of confessions had already formed in her mind and, when she couldn’t contain them any longer, began to gush out. “I tried to pretend what we had together—” She paused when her voice cracked. “—wasn’t incredibly special. I wanted to believe I could enjoy a physical relationship and dismiss my emotions.” Her voice lowered. “As irrelevant.” She laid her hand on his arm, and a bicep muscle twitched then tensed. “And that was my biggest mistake of all.”

  “You were only doing what was working for you, I suppose.”

  Squaring up in her seat, she concentrated on the scenery passing by outside. He’d said very little as she went on and on. Because she hadn’t given him a chance to speak? Or because there was nothing he cared to share with her? Either way, she had to go for broke.

  “I love you, Jonah.” She could say the words, but for the life of her, she couldn’t look at him. Then it dawned on her, there was no shame in that admission. “I love you, Jonah.” This time she spoke more to herself than him, and reveled in the joy of it. “Now, if you would please, you can take me to my car.”

  “I’ll take you to your car, then I’ll follow you home to make sure you get there all right. But, there is one more thing.”

  She swiped at the tears that had accumulated on her cheeks. “And what’s that?”

  “When I do follow you home, I won’t be leaving anytime soon.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Nor would I want you to.”

  Unable to suppress a smile, she found his hand as she spoke, and he was quick to twine their fingers and hold on tight.

  Though his first instinct was to burn rubber all the way across town, not stopping for traffic signals, or anything else until they picked up her car and arrived in her driveway, he played it cool.

  Lord knew he didn’t want to take even the slightest chance of losing her now.

  After what seemed to him like hours they finally made it to her house. Much as they had that first night they were together, he pulled into the driveway behind her.

  But, this time, there was no doubt in his mind he was spending the night.

  “I still have a couple of those frozen chicken Kievs I can fix for us. As it appears I’m the cause of you missing dinner yet again.”

  “You don’t need to worry about that right now.”

  Loosening his tie, he decided to remove it altogether, then took her hand and guided them into the family room.

  He led her over to the plush oversized couch and recalled the night he’d lain her down among the cushions and crawled on top of her. This time he tightened his arm around her shoulders as they sat down then smiled when she snuggled closer to rest her head against his chest.

  “Maybe I’m not as hungry as I thought.”

  Her voice rose up from the folds of his shirt, and he smiled again as he brought his other arm around to hold her close, content to sit quietly and listen to her breathe.

  After a few moments, her gaze rose to meet his, and he recognized each and every emotion that flashed in her eyes. Tentativeness. A silent pleading. Innocence and vulnerability. Most—no all—of them he knew were reflected in his own.

  Without a word, she reached inside his shirt to trail a fingertip along the scar on his shoulder. “That wasn’t caused by a car accident. You’ve seen your share of danger, haven’t you?”

  “In my opinion, it’s a trophy of sorts.”

  Her fingers toyed with the ridge. “How so?”

  He covered her hand with his as she flattened her palm against the injured tissue. “If you consider the intended target was the middle of my forehead.”

  “That’s horrible to even think about.” When she shuddered, he pulled her close and ran his palms up and down her back until she relaxed into his arms.

  “It’s only important the bullet missed.”

  “Thank God for that.” The raw emotion in her voice did wonders for his heart.

  “You do know I love you.”

  “To be honest, I wasn’t sure.”

  “I should have told you in the car.” With two gentle fingers under her chin, he brought her mouth up as he lowered his. “I love you. Today and forever.”

  His lips touched hers in a kiss that held all the promise he had to offer. Only to end too soon as the familiar wedding strains floated out of her computer.

  “I’ll go put in our dinner.” He stood with her as she rose to answer. “While you talk to Jen.”

  Once in the kitchen, he almost forgot to coat the baking dish with no stick spray before placing the rock hard entrees onto its surface. With those in the oven, he shut the door and twirled the temperature dial to three fifty and set the timer for one hour. All as the packaging instructed.

  Pulling her last two baking potatoes from the bottom drawer of the refrigerator, he scrubbed their skins with a vegetable brush then pricked them several times with a serving fork before he put them on the top rack in the heating oven.

  Careful to wash his hands, he filled two glasses from the chilled bottle he found in the refrigerator door. Walking into the family room, glasses in hand, he made a point to stay on the rug so his shoes wouldn’t squeak against the bare floor.

  With both elbows on the desk, chin in one hand, Cynthia talked into the computer screen.

  “The facility you’ve chosen for the reception should be able to provide a suitable wedding cake, Jen. Their bakery has a fabulous reputation.” Without moving from the front of the screen, she raised her gaze to his and smiled. “You’re making trouble where there isn’t any.”

  “But their choices are limited, Mother.”

  She waited until after Jen spoke to lower her gaze. “You have another month before the wedding, and as far as I can see, all of the arrangements are coming along fine. Even ahead of schedule.”

  Her gaze strayed to his again as he crept to the couch, eased himself down and set the wine glasses on the coffee table so gently they didn’t clink. Gracing him with another quick smile, her attention returned to the screen before he had a chance to mouth I love you.

  “You’re doing a great job from your end. This long distance planning is going much better than I expected. If you want to send me a list of what choices are available, I’ll look it over and discuss some other options with you.” Her gaze lifted to meet Jonah’s again. “But, right this minute isn’t convenient for me.”

  “Mother, I—”

  “I’m busy right now, Jen. However, there is one thing before we hang up.” She looked up at Jonah and their gazes locked. “I plan to bring a guest to your wedding. A gentleman I’ve gotten to know.”

  “Who?”

  “His name is Jonah Colt.”

  “But, Mother. You know the reservations at the hotel are already maxed out. I knew I should have reserved a larger block of rooms. We’ll just have to set him up at the overflow hotel.”

  She had yet to look back at the screen. “No, we won’t.”

  “But, Moth—”

  “It’s not a problem.” She gave into the beginnings of a laugh that came out full force when Jonah performed a fist pump for her benefit. “Don’t worry about altering my reservation either. One room will do just fine.”

  “Mother, I—”

  “I’ll tell you all about him. I love you dearly, Jen, but, as I said, now’s not good for me. I’ll talk to you later, and give my love to Dave.”

  Whatever Jen was about to say was cut off as her mother disconnected the call.

  “Will she survive?” Jonah reached up to take her hands as she came to stand before him.

  “She’ll have to.” She grinned as he pulled her onto his lap. “Because, quite frankly, she has no other choice.”

  He dropped a kiss on her nose. “I knew I liked how you operate.”

 
; “You poor, poor man. I do come with quite a bit of baggage.” She tilted her head toward the now blank computer screen. “An overly needy daughter among them.”

  “Who’s going through a bad case of pre-wedding jitters I’m certain won’t last much past the ceremony.”

  He kissed the side of her neck and reached up to draw a gentle finger down her cheek and along her jawline. “I don’t need to remind you I come with a fair amount of baggage of my own.”

  As she nestled into him, he drew her closer and rested his chin on top of her head. “Such as?”

  “The things I witnessed that I can’t forget. What I had to do when—”

  Warm and calming fingers touched his lips. “You can tell me all about them when you’re ready.”

  His clenched fist thumped his chest. “There’s a lot in there. More than even you could imagine or want to put up with. It may take some time.”

  She pulled back to gaze up at him. “How much time? Can you give me an estimate?”

  “How about a lifetime. Do you have that much time to spare?”

  “Whatever you need from me, Jonah. Whatever you need.”

  On a sigh, he vowed to hold on to that promise and to her. “Now that we’ve more or less determined our future, there is one more thing I’d like to discuss.”

  “Which is?”

  He nestled his chin more firmly on the top of her head as his arms tightened possessively around her. “I think I’d like to start calling you Cindy.”

  She jerked away then turned to gaze at him in mock horror. “You what?”

  “Cindy suits you better. In my opinion. What do you think?”

  A huge grin took over her mouth and reached up to light her eyes just before she settled back against him. “Only if you dare, Jonah Colt. Only if you dare.”

  A word about the author...

  Like many who create stories, I figured someday to write a book. But only when the time was right, which meant after I earned a formal education, launched and sustained a successful and rewarding career, married, then raised a family and became financially independent.

  To paraphrase the song lyric, life happened while I was making plans. Proof of the education is in a frame on the wall, the career came and went, the husband is still with me, but the children are grown, and our vast accumulation of wealth never materialized.