by Beth K. Vogt
“Thanks.”
“We’ll watch the start of the race and then hike up to the next observation point. If we’re fast, we’ll get there before the guys do.”
“Whatever you say. I’m playing follow the leader today.”
The group of a couple hundred men and women, some carrying flags, some wearing superhero costumes or camo fatigues and combat boots, quieted as a man shouted final instructions through a megaphone. Kade and Mitch, along with the rest of the team, were front and center in the crowd. As the race organizer reminded the participants that the Mudder was about sportsmanship and camaraderie—and that runners could skip any obstacle they wanted to—Kade positioned himself behind Mitch, gripping the handles of his wheelchair, leaning forward and saying something so that Mitch laughed.
“He probably just told Mitch to hang on.” Lacey knelt and braced her camera on a jean-clad knee. “And Mitch warned Kade not to dump him onto the ground.”
“They’ve done this before, right?” Caron crouched beside her, the rough terrain digging into her knees through her jeans, using her cell phone camera to zoom in on the group.
“This is their second Mudder. Last year it rained most of the time.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Lacey talked while she took pictures. “They’re all soaked by the third obstacle anyway.”
The prolonged screech of the megaphone interrupted their conversation, drawing Caron’s attention back to the team as they surged forward, Kade hunched over Mitch’s wheelchair to gain traction on the rocky hillside.
“Go, go, go!” Caron jumped up and down, her cheers swallowed up in the roar of the crowd.
“Almost makes you want to be down there, running with them, doesn’t it?” Lacey trained her camera on the men advancing up the mountain.
“Me? I don’t think so. This is more intense than the race I participated in.”
“Come on.” Lacey nodded upward once the last of the runners disappeared from sight. “Time to get moving.”
As they headed toward the next observation point, Lacey stopped now and then to take photos of the surrounding mountains and of the base area, teeming with spectators’ visiting booths.
“So have you and Mitch dated for a long time?”
“We’ve been friends since high school.” Lacey placed the cover on the camera lens. “And then Mitch started dating my best friend. When we graduated, he was headed to boot camp, where he met Kade. Mitch asked everyone to write him. Mostly girls. I promised to write him. It was my good deed, you know? When he and Brianna broke up, I kept it up.”
“I see.”
“It wasn’t like that. We were just friends. And then . . .” Lacey’s smile widened. “About a year later, he came home on leave. I’d broken up with a guy that I’d been dating, and he was flying solo, too, so we went out for pizza . . . and he let me cry on his nice, very broad shoulders . . .”
“And you’ve been together since then?”
“No. After he was injured, Mitch wouldn’t answer my calls. I charged a plane ticket and showed up at the hospital—” Lacey’s voice broke. “It was awful. I mean, Kade called me and warned me. And I thought I was prepared. But it was still . . . hard to see Mitch like that. I broke down . . . and Mitch yelled at me to leave. Said he didn’t want me there.”
“Of course it was hard.” Caron dug her heels into the dirt and rocks, scrabbling to keep up with Lacey. “Did he expect you not to cry?”
“He didn’t want me sticking around because I felt sorry for him. So he told me to get lost. Later, he told me that he broke up with me because he thought it was the right thing to do.”
“Well, obviously you got back together.”
“It took about six months. And both of us being miserable. And a lot of praying.” A smile twisted Lacey’s lips. “And Kade.”
“Kade?”
“Mitch and I are both stubborn, which can be both a good and a bad thing. We never stopped loving each other. But Mitch was struggling to adjust to life as a double amputee. He wasn’t going to ask me to commit to that kind of a future. And to be honest, I wondered if I was ready. I surfed the Internet to understand what Mitch was dealing with. How would we manage a family? And I even dated some other guys. None of them made me forget Mitch.”
“So how did you two get back together?”
“That’s where Kade comes in.”
“Kade played matchmaker?”
“He called me again. He told me that Mitch was struggling. That Mitch needed me, but that he wasn’t going to admit it. And Kade reminded me love is about being brave, about making the choice to love someone no matter what. Asked me point-blank if Mitch losing two legs was all it took to change how I felt about him. I was on the next plane to Colorado, praying the whole way.”
“And that was it, huh? Happily every after?”
“Hardly.” Lacey’s laughter seemed to bounce off the mountains. “Mitch yelled at me when I showed up. I won’t even tell you what he said to Kade.”
“What did you do?”
“I yelled right back at him. And then I cried. And yelled some more. We both cried. That’s when Kade left us alone.”
“And so?”
“And so?” Lacey shrugged. “Oh, you’re asking the when-are-we-getting-married question.”
“I guess I am.”
“It will happen when it happens. But between you and me, if Mitch doesn’t ask soon, I may propose to him.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope. Absolutely serious. There comes a time when a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. I love Mitch and I want to be his wife, not just his girlfriend.”
Their conversation trailed off and Caron slowed her pace, allowing Lacey to wander ahead, snapping scenery.
Why was she struggling against comparing her relationship with Alex to the kind Lacey and Mitch had? The kind of love that dug in its heels when it faced a battle, instead of turning its back on troubles and pretending they didn’t exist.
Was this the reason she was content with her long-standing girlfriend status with Alex? Did she long for something more?
• • •
The Mudder took a good six hours, what with the team helping Mitch through obstacles like the ten-foot angled wall named the “Skidmarked” or cheering him on as he conquered the “Pole Dancer,” two wobbly, slippery poles, without landing in the muddy water below him.
Between posing while Lacey took their celebratory photos—both before and after rinsing off the mud that soaked their clothes and hair—and finding someplace to eat a post-race meal, they didn’t get back to the Springs until almost ten o’clock that night. Caron drove, dropping Lacey and Mitch off at Mitch’s house first, where Lacey had parked her car, while Kade dozed in the reclined front passenger seat.
“It was a great day.” Caron kept her voice low, trying not to wake Kade.
“It was that.” Lacey leaned in to hug her. “We’re getting together early next week to select photos for the tour house, right?”
Caron had almost forgotten about the tour while shouting herself hoarse today.
“Yes. I’m down to the wire. And now I’m going to try and get out of here before this guy wakes up.”
“He’ll sleep well tonight. They all will.”
Caron pulled back onto the highway before addressing Kade. “You can stop pretending to be asleep.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kade shifted in the seat, uttering a soft groan, and spoke without opening his eyes.
“You haven’t been asleep. And I know you’re hurt.”
“I am not hurt—”
“Oh, come on, Kade. I saw you after the Mud Mile. Something changed in your gait . . . your expression—”
“Watching me, were you?”
“Stop it! I was watching the entire team. But I’m concerned about you. I don’t know what you did, whether you hurt your back or your leg, but something’s wrong.�
�
“Everybody’s sore, Caron—”
She barged past his excuses. “And then you let me drive the car home . . . well, that was proof enough. You never hand your car keys over to anyone.”
“Fine. I pulled a little muscle in my back.” Kade’s sigh filled the car, as if he’d held on to it for the entire ride back from Aspen. “Are you happy now?”
“That is probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say. Of course I’m not happy you’re hurt. I’ve been worried. I prayed for you while you finished the course.”
“Thank you. Now if you’ll just drive me home, I’ll take a hot shower and get a good night’s sleep and be fine in the morning.”
Caron drove the rest of the way in silence. Pain made Kade irritable, which was understandable, and there was no need to fuss at him. Not now, anyway.
Lacey had programmed Kade’s address into Caron’s cell phone, allowing her to get back to Kade’s house, where she’d left her car at five o’clock that morning. Kade sat silent, his brow furrowed, arms folded across his chest.
Caron hadn’t expected Kade to quit, to walk off the course, just because he’d gotten hurt. She knew him better than that. But the race was over. He could let his guard down. And she wasn’t going to abandon him without making sure he was okay for the night.
• • •
It had been a good day. A long, hard day. He was already looking forward to running the Mudder next year. But right now all Kade wanted to do was go stand in a hot shower for the rest of the night. But there was no doing that, not when Caron had pulled his car into the garage and shadowed him into the house.
“Okay. I’m home. Are you satisfied?” Kade resisted the urge to slump against the island in the center of his kitchen in an attempt to ease the burning in his lower back.
“I’ll be satisfied when you’re in bed.”
“Oh, really?” Even in the dim light of the kitchen, there was no mistaking the blush creeping across Caron’s face.
“Oh, stop it. You’re not going to get rid of me by trying to embarrass me.” Caron fisted her hands on her hips. “You know what I mean. Now tell me how badly you’re hurt.”
The sooner he told her, the sooner she’d leave.
“I told you that I pulled a muscle in my lower back—a major one. It’s happened before. I’ll take a muscle relaxant and grab a hot shower. I’ll probably have to sleep on the couch for a couple of nights.”
“So, first things first. Go take some medicine and get a shower.”
“And you, Miss Hollister, can head home.”
“True. I know how to let myself out.”
“Then I’ll say good night. See you on Monday.”
There was no response from Caron. He couldn’t blame her for leaving without saying goodbye. She was . . . well, not as tired as he was, but still worn out from the long day. She’d been a great sport today. Had a great time with Lacey. Driven all the way back from Aspen, covering for him by saying she liked long drives through the mountains.
The hot shower lasted less than twenty minutes, but that’s what he got for indulging in not one, but two muscle relaxers. He wasn’t going to doze off in the shower and wake up tomorrow morning a waterlogged human prune.
Kade managed to pull on a pair of pajama bottoms with minimal groans. He couldn’t imagine wrestling on a T-shirt tonight. And if he didn’t want to wake up tomorrow with an upset stomach, he needed to eat something before sacking out on the couch. A spoonful of peanut butter. Or a yogurt.
Now, why did his house smell like someone was making a grilled cheese sandwich?
The aroma of toasted bread and melted cheese only got stronger as he shuffled into the kitchen, his hand pressed against his lower back.
Caron Hollister tilted a frying pan, allowing a sandwich oozing with cheese to slide onto a plate waiting on the counter.
“What are you still doing here?” Kade ground the words out through gritted teeth.
“Feel better?”
“I asked you a question.”
“It’s obvious I’m making you something to eat.” Caron waved the plastic spatula over the plate. “Now it’s your turn to answer my question. Are you feeling better?”
“I was—until I realized you were still here.”
“It’s a good thing I remember how cranky you get when you’re in pain.” Caron moved past him with the sandwich and a glass of milk. “Remember when you had your wisdom teeth pulled out?”
“Don’t remind me.” He fought against the way the world seemed to be slowing down. “So that sandwich is for me?”
“Yes. Your meds are kicking in, I see. I know we’re not talking about why I know this, but I do remember how meds upset your stomach. Come on, the couch is ready for you.”
“You made up my couch?”
“That’s where you’re going to sleep, not just because of your back pain, but also because your bedroom furniture is over at the Kingston house. It was pretty easy to find sheets and a spare blanket and a pillow in your linen closet.
“Caron, go home.” Kade collapsed on the couch, causing his back to spasm. Who had signed him up to be an actor in a slow-motion film? All he wanted to do was stretch out on the couch. Or shake Caron very slowly and tell her to stop being so nice. To stop acting like she cared about him.
“Just humor me for a few more minutes, okay? Eat your sandwich. Drink your milk. Hydration, remember? And then I’ll turn off the lights and go home.”
“Going to tuck me in?”
“If you want me to.” Caron sat across from him on the coffee table. “You had a rough day.”
“Me? I’ve got nothing to complain about. Mitch showed us all up today.”
“You were all amazing out there—a great team.”
“I’ll run the Mudder every year Mitch wants to do it.”
“It’s inspiring—”
“No . . . no, it’s humbling.” Kade took another bite of the sandwich and set it aside.
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s one thing to run a course when your arms and legs are working. Sure, I hurt my back. That’s temporary. But to see Mitch . . . forgetting who he was before the firefight . . . and accepting who he is now . . . facing those obstacles. Refusing to let them stop him. He lives that every day. I couldn’t stop him from being hurt . . . but if I can help him live the life he wants now . . . well, I’m all in.”
“You’re a good friend, Kade.”
Kade swallowed against the burn in his throat, his eyes closing. “There was a moment today when I was carrying him on my back . . . and I remembered after the firefight . . . how I wanted to just pick Mitch up and carry him as far and as fast as I could away from danger. But I couldn’t. There was blood everywhere . . . and his legs . . . I needed to apply tourniquets. And he was conscious for a moment and I said, ‘You’re gonna be okay, buddy. You’re gonna be okay . . .’ ”
The warmth of Caron’s hand on his, the softness of her skin, saved him from going all the way back into a memory that still woke him some nights. Kade turned his hand palm-up, curving his fingers around her hand.
“He lost both his legs . . . I couldn’t prevent that. But I made a promise that I’d help him any way I could.”
“Because that’s who you are.”
“It’s the right thing to do. You stand by someone when you love them.” Kade gave in to the need to lie down.
Caron adjusted the soft material of the blanket over his shoulders, her fingers brushing his skin. Why was she still here? Why had she come back? He caught her hand in his again.
“Why did you leave without saying anything?”
She stilled. Just like that, with one question, they were facing their past relationship again. “I thought . . . it would be easier.”
“Was it? Easy?” He tightened his grasp, determined to have an answer this time.
“No. No, breaking up with you wasn’t easy, Kade.” With her free hand, she ran her fingers through his hair. �
��I did love you. It just wasn’t going to work . . .”
He closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax as she continued to brush her fingers through his hair. “Are you happy with this other guy?”
A moment’s hesitation and then “Yes.”
“Well then . . . that’s that, I guess. You’re happy. He’s happy. And I’m . . . well, I’m sleepy.” Kade knew his voice was fading. “And you can go on and leave. It’s all right. I should be used to people leaving me by now . . .”
• • •
Even after Kade had fallen asleep, Caron stayed where she was, his medicated condition allowing her to dare to hold his hand.
His insistence that she leave—that it didn’t matter because he was used to being left—kept her at his side, his hand in hers. She’d convinced herself that leaving him with no explanation would be easier. But she knew better.
She knew him.
As Kade tucked her beneath his arm, Caron leaned closer, falling in to step with him. Moonlight shimmered across the Gulf, creating shadows along the sand dunes.
“I like these nighttime walks along the beach.”
“Me, too.” Kade’s voice was low. “No need to wear sunscreen.”
“That’s not what I meant. I like the quiet. Just you and me and the moonlight.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“So I was wondering something.”
“And what was that?”
“You know about my family. I mean, you work for my father, after all—”
“True. Although I haven’t done the guess-who’s-coming-to-dinner routine yet.”
“All in good time.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “You don’t talk much about your family. You do have one, don’t you?”
“Everyone has some sort of family.”
“Well?”
“I grew up in Maryland. My parents divorced when I was in elementary school. My father remarried and decided family number two was more important than me. End of that story. My mom lives in Connecticut now, and we keep in touch.”
“She never remarried?”
“She has a long-standing boyfriend. It works for them.” Kade shifted, pulling her closer to his side. “The closest thing I had to family were the Neilsons.”