“How so?” she demanded, turning her hand over, taking his and holding it.
“If Cardona or one of his soldiers ever recognizes me, they’ll hunt me down and kill me. And they won’t stop there. They’ll take out both of our families.”
“But you said you were under an alias.”
“Yes, and I also wore a beard to hide my face. But I can’t ever be a hundred percent sure that someday, one of his soldiers might accidentally spot me.”
“Do you think he’s looking for you?”
“I don’t know. I’m hoping he thinks I’m in a federal prison somewhere with a lot of his other drug soldiers. He has no way of tracking me down. In his business? Men die all the time and there’s so many others to take that man’s place. I wasn’t important to Cardona. Chances are, he’ll write me off like he will the rest of his men that got rounded up that night, and forget all of us. Out of sight, out of mind.”
“He’ll probably just chalk it up to experience, and move on, like you said.”
Mark moved his finger across the back of her hand, holding her worried gaze. “I didn’t want you thinking the worst of me, Mattie. I see-sawed over telling you why I suddenly left you again. I could see the damage it had done. I wanted, somehow, to repair it.” He lifted his hand from hers, grazing her pale cheek. “You are so important to me, Mattie. I think you’ve always known that. But now I’m speaking up about it because I don’t want to live my life without you in it. You’re the most important person in the world to me.”
His tone was almost pleading, but he didn’t care. If he couldn’t have Mattie, he’d have no reason for living. She was the light, the hope, in his life. His reason for being. His reason to fight every day to heal his inner wounds and become a better man.
“From the day we met, Mattie, as first graders, we were drawn to one another. You just naturally reached out those loving arms of yours and put them around me. We became friends and then, over time, we became inseparable.”
She pressed against his opened palm that gently cradled her cheek. Closing her eyes, Mattie choked back tears. Then, she confirmed what he most wanted to hear. “We are still that way to this day, Mark.”
“Are you sure?” he rasped, his hand tightening over hers.
“I’m very sure.”
“But you were withholding from me, Mattie. I could feel it.”
Nodding, she sighed and slid her other hand into his. “You’re right. I felt shut out of your life, Mark, because you left without an explanation. Now I know why. And I agree you had to do this. Wyatt’s up to his butt in the security industry, and I understand that you can’t share what you do on assignment.” Her voice rose, and she was overcome with emotion. “I’m so glad you told me, Mark. When you left at eighteen, I nearly died of heartbreak.”
“I could see the wall it placed between us, Mattie.” He traced each of her long, slender fingers. “And I didn’t know how to remove that barrier between us. But since I’ve been back, I knew I had to tell you about the undercover work or I’d lose you forever. I could feel it coming.”
“I just don’t have the strength to lose you again, Mark.”
“I got it, Mattie.”
Her fingers closed over his. “Thank you for coming clean. It means the world to me.”
Nodding, wanting to kiss her senseless, Mark knew he had to pace their relationship. Mattie would probably liken it to a split blanket being knitted back together again. One knit and purl at a time. “I knew it would.”
“I just wish,” she said, “that the townspeople knew what you’ve done. I hate the idea of you being the target of unjust gossip.”
He shook his head. “My name in this town was muddied when I was born, Mattie. I’ve learned to live with it. The only person I want to know who I really am, is you. Only you …”
CHAPTER 11
February 14
Anxiety shot through Mark as he mounted the steps to Mattie’s kindergarten building. It was four p.m. He knew her schedule: by three p.m., the parents had all picked up their children, and now Mattie was cleaning up the room and preparing for the following day.
Mark had taken off early from his work at the Rocking L, shaved, showered, and changed his clothes. This was all part of his campaign to woo her back into his arms by becoming someone she could count on, now and forever.
He pulled the door open and stepped inside. The classroom was quiet, but he could hear Mattie puttering around in the service area—which had a sink—just behind the classroom. He heard water running and quietly closed the door. Yes, there she was, scrubbing out a bunch of mason jars holding tempera paint. She had cleaned all the brushes and neatly laid them out to dry on the other side of the sink. He knew how much she wanted the children to explore their own, unique creativity. Poster board and tempera paint were out in the classroom at least two to three times a week. And she always had the children’s paintings, once dried, hung around the room. It looked more like an art gallery to Mark but he silently applauded her desire to allow the children their natural creativity, too.
He smiled, loving how she looked today. Long, curly strands of red hair framed her temples, while the rest of it was piled up in a loose top knot, captured by a colorful, purple plastic comb.
Always dressed sensibly, today she wore what she called her “granny” dress. In the winter around here, it got good and cold and during this time of the year, when days were frosty, he’d seen her wear wool dresses that fell to her ankles. Draped across her shoulders and tied in an artful knot at her throat, was a bright-red scarf worn to set off the neutral gray of the dress. She wore a black leather belt around her waist, giving the shapeless granny dress some style and complementing her curved hips.
Mark had to admit it, he enjoyed just watching Mattie work efficiently, giving one-hundred percent of her focus to the job before her. She had twenty preschoolers and about half the Mason jars were cleaned and set upside down on a towel to air dry. The other ten jars were a panorama of rainbow colors waiting their turn to be washed clean.
He turned, looking above the whiteboard to see twenty paintings hung to dry. The paintings were all different, each beautiful in its own way.
Turning, his gaze settled on Mattie once more. She wore a bright green apron to keep the paint from splashing across the front of her dress. Her hands were long, fingers slender, and he admired her ability to multi-task—the woman was a dedicated worker.
For a moment, Mark wondered what his life might have been like if his mother had survived and he’d had someone to make him feel wanted, loved, and worthwhile. Because Mattie was that way with her kids. They absolutely adored her in large and small ways.
“Mark!”
He jerked out of his reverie, lifting his chin. Mattie turned, startled. She hadn’t expected him. Good.
“Hey, I thought you might like some Valentine’s Day flowers and candy.” He moved forward, a dozen red roses in his right hand, and a huge, three-pound box of heart-shaped chocolates in the other one. Her eyes widened, her lips forming an ‘O’, delighting him that she was truly surprised.
“Oh, my goodness!” she whispered, quickly grabbing a nearby terrycloth towel and wiping her damp hands. “Mark! I never expected this!” She flew toward him with a huge smile of gratitude.
His grin deepened and he stopped, holding out the roses wrapped in pink tissue paper with a white ribbon around them. “Well, now maybe I can do things I’ve always dreamed of doing for you, but was never here to see them through.” His voice became suddenly thick. “Now, I can. Here, these are for you. They’re long overdue …”
Her face suddenly crumpled as her hands gently cupped the bouquet. She brought them to her nose, closing her eyes, inhaling.
Just watching her, Mark could barely resist taking her in his arms and kissing her soft lips. When Mattie opened her eyes, he asked, anxiously, “Are they all right? I know you like roses …”
“I love roses,” she managed, her voice awash with feelings. Her fi
ngers trembled as they touched the half-opened flowers.
“And here’s the candy part of this occasion,” he added, holding out the box to her. “I know you like Whitman Samplers, and I got lucky and found some.”
Mattie’s smile widened as she took the heavy, heart-shaped box. “I hope you’re going to help me eat these, Reuss. This is a lot of candy!”
“Well,” he said, “I thought that maybe your kids here at the kindergarten might like some.”
“You’re so sweet!” she cried. “That’s so thoughtful of you!”
“I’m far from that, Mattie, but I’m glad you like the flowers and chocolates.” He swallowed hard and rasped, “Happy Valentine’s Day.” And then, he opened up the black leather vest he wore over his light-blue, flannel long-sleeved shirt. “I almost forgot … here …” He handed her a thick, large white envelope.
“I’m … just … overwhelmed, Mark,” Mattie gushed. “Come and sit down at the table while I put the roses in water. And then I’ll open your wonderful card.”
Pushing his damp palms down his jeans, he worried about what he’d written in the card. What would Mattie do? How would she react? Unsure, Mark followed her to the small round table and sat down, watching her put water in a vase for her beloved red roses.
She removed the apron, setting it to one side and dried her hands on a towel. Then, she took his card and slipped it into the pocket of her granny dress. Every once in a while, Mattie would stop, press her face into the blossoms and smell them. It made Mark feel as if he’d really pleased her. Yes, he could tell he had—she was beyond happy. And it was only a small measure of what he owed her after all these years of love and loyalty.
“You deserve flowers every day for the rest of your life,” he told her.
Mattie tilted her head in his direction, lifting the vase out of the sink. “You know how much I love them. You see how many I’ve planted around my little house.”
“It’s one of the hundreds of good things about you, Mattie.”
She gave him a warm look, walked over to where he sat, and placed the vase to one side of the small table.
He got up, pulling out the other chair for her.
“Thank you,” she whispered, sitting down and taking his card from her pocket. Placing it in front of her, she nudged the chocolates in his direction. “Why don’t you open these while I read your card?”
Mark would have preferred watching her expression as she read, but he did as she asked. It was a simple card, with a bouquet of wildflowers on the front of it, encircled by a glittering pink heart. Inside, the card was blank, allowing plenty of room for Mark to write a message to Mattie about how he truly felt. He had labored for almost two days, trying to find the right tone, the right words, to express his heart to Mattie without saying outright, I love you.
Those fragile, beautiful, forever words were reserved only for her. But he couldn’t push or stress her with his goal of asking for her hand in marriage. All of that would have to wait. Mattie had to have time to adjust to Mark 2.0. Would she like what he said? His heart was racing with a mixture of fear and hope, but if he was honest with himself, it was mostly fear.
*
Mattie could see the concern in Mark’s gold-brown eyes. She saw him struggling to appear relaxed, but she could sense tension ramping up within him. Running her fingers across the embossed surface, giving him a look of gratitude, she said, “You know how I love flowers. This is perfect, Mark.”
A bit of tension left the corners of his mouth, and he said, “I hope you like what I wrote inside it. I mean every word of it, Mattie.”
She opened it, cradling the card. “I know I will …”
Moonlight brings out the emerald green in your eyes, and I drown in the radiance that shines through them, embracing me. You heal my fractured soul.
Sunlight kisses your hair and a riot of gold, copper, and crimson, like a flame, becomes your halo telling me how much of angel you are in my dark life.
Your freckles remind me of the Milky Way covering the night sky with its ephemeral beauty. I celebrate who you really are, hiding nothing of your true self.
The smile you share with me has always calmed me, made my heart beat faster, made me feel whole even when I’m not.
Your voice is soft velvet and my ears hungrily listen and absorb your words, because your words are music to me.
When you laugh, it lifts me out of my darkness and makes me feel hope for a better life.
And when you touch me, I feel complete. I feel a wholeness I’ve never had before in my life.
I don’t know how one person can be so much to another, but you are all of that to me and always will be. Forever.
Thank you for never giving up on me. Thank you for seeing me, not my wounds and scars that I will carry for the rest of my life. I’ll always care about you, Mattie. And I will always be there for you. Mark.
Mattie could barely pull in a breath, her eyes riveted on the scrawled ink words. The utter honesty of Mark unveiling himself to her tore through her, intensifying her love for him as never before. Lifting her lashes, she saw how awkward he felt, how worried he was that he was less than the man she wanted. She sensed he was trying to brace himself against her not liking what he’d written.
Slowly closing the card, she pressed it with both her hands against her heart. “I never knew you held such beautiful thoughts about me, Mark. I’m stunned, in a good way. Actually, I’m at a loss for words, really …” Choking, tears burning hotly in her eyes, she struggled to push them away, adding brokenly, “You really do see me.”
“I always have, Mattie,” he began, his voice buoyed by relief. “You do so much good for me.”
She raised her hand, pushing the tears from her eyes with her fingers, giving him a tender look. “I’m going to cherish this card for the rest of my life. I’m putting it on my dresser where I can pick it up and read it on bad days when I’m feeling down. You have no idea how your words touch my heart, my soul, Mark. I just never knew you had this in you,” she managed, giving him a wobbly, half smile of apology, searching his widening eyes.
He sat there, jaw moving, his eyes narrowed and intense upon her. “I’m not much of a writer …”
She managed a soft smile. “I love what you wrote to me, Mark! I love you for struggling so long to create the most beautiful card I’ve ever read.” She moved her fingers in a caressing motion over the card and then placed it on the table in front of her. “I will cherish your words forever. I promise you that.”
Shaking his head, he confessed, “You have no idea of how many times I wadded up the piece of paper I was writing on and threw it in the trash basket, only to start all over again. I needed to find exactly the right words that told you how I felt.”
“How long did it take you to write this? It feels as if you really gave it your all.”
“Honestly, I started it after we got back home from our lunch together at the stream.”
“That was a wonderful day. I loved being with you, Mark. It was like a dream come true for me.”
Cocking his head, he studied her. “What do you mean?”
Mattie shrugged, giving him an embarrassed look. “I used to dream, even as a teenager, of the things we’d do together. I thought about all the fun we’d have—the laughter and the good times. I remembered that whenever we could get away from your father, from your family ranch, you became a different, absolutely wonderful person.”
“I kind of dreamed of things like that, too,” he admitted, relaxing as she shared her joy with him.
“Really?”
A corner of his mouth lifted in amusement. “Yes, really.”
Mattie was soaking up their conversation like a dry sponge. Times like this with Mark could be counted on one hand. Now, he was being raw, open, and brutally honest. Her heart glided upward, as if on an invisible rainbow of joy. She reached over, her hand curving over his fist on the table. Rubbing his hand gently, she felt him begin to relax.
“
I’m still shaking from the beauty of your words on that card. I never knew you saw me like that, Mark. And it just makes me want to cry for utter joy because I feel so good about us.”
He relaxed his fist, turned his hand over, carefully cradling hers. “I think I’m ready to leave my past behind. I want to write a new chapter in my own Book of Life, Mattie.” His fingers curved around hers, his eyes never leaving her moist ones. “I want it to include you. What do you say?”
“That’s easy. All my life,” she said, “I’ve wanted just you, Mark. And now, just knowing what you told me about Juan and the DEA mission makes me confident that you really are home for good.”
“I came home to you, Mattie, no one else.”
“Well, I can tell you that I’m ready to write that new chapter with you. Although I must admit, I’m a little anxious.”
“I’m scared to death, Mattie.” His fingers caressed hers in light, stroking motions. “But I’m more afraid that I’ll disappoint you someday, and that you’ll walk away forever.”
Giving a shake of her head, she said, “Never. The only thing that could tear us apart is for you to suddenly up and leave again. But I think we’re past that, aren’t we?”
His mouth pursed and he studied their clasped hands in the center of the table. “I’m home for good, Mattie. That’s my promise to you.”
She perked up, giving him a loving look. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s start writing that next chapter together!”
CHAPTER 12
Mattie couldn’t hold back any longer. She pushed her chair back and saw Mark’s questioning look as she quickly came around the table, placed her hands on his broad shoulders, and leaned down, pressing her mouth fully against his.
As she eased her lips along the seam of his, she felt his powerful reaction, his hands gripping her shoulders, holding her in place. With her eyes closed, she savored his opening mouth hungrily, just as starved as she was for him. Their breathing went from zero to sixty in a split second and she felt him trying to get a grip on himself, working through the shock that she was actually kissing him.
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