by Tessa Layne
“Just down past the nurses’ station, then take a right. Third door on your left.”
A hot lump lodged itself at the base of her throat. Just a few more feet and she could see for herself that he was alive and breathing. The last five days had been hell. Once she’d made it back to Steamboat and had locked herself in her trailer, she’d wept herself silly and called her mother.
Through the hiccups and sobs, Dottie had finally been able to decipher what had happened and promised to call Parker’s mother right away. Dottie also promised to text her any updates. The winds had died down a few hours after dark, and with them, the energy of the fire had seemed to dissipate almost instantaneously. It was like the blow-up had taken the last bit of energy from the fire.
They’d run buckets all day the following day, and by dinnertime, word had spread through the ranks the fire was fifty percent contained, something that the Public Relations Officer verified on television. The second day, they’d run buckets to the hotspots, and by the end of the third day, they were released home. As soon as she’d landed back at Fort Riley, conducted her post flight, and completed the hundred little things necessary to conclude a mission, she’d caught the first flight back to Denver, prepared to stay as long as necessary.
Cassie paused outside his door, hand on the wall, and gulped down the last of her coffee. She’d transported burn victims overseas. This could be ugly. But she didn’t care. Park was alive, and whatever condition he was in, they’d face it together.
Breathing deeply through her nose, she gathered her strength and knocked on the partially open door. “Park?” she called softly, pushing the door wide.
“Cass? That you?” a thin, hoarse voice called out.
Covering a gasp, she stumbled into the room and fell to her knees at the foot of the bed. Only the foot of the bed was occupied by Parker’s face. He lay on his stomach, a gown tied loosely at his back. His lower legs, the backs of his hands, and his lower forearms shiny with some kind of wound protection. Remarkably, his face looked the same, although thinner and with the scruff that came from a week of not shaving. And someone had given him a bad haircut.
“Last time I checked, standard wedding attire was a tuxedo, not a hospital gown that bares your ass to God and everyone?”
His eyes crinkled, a flicker of the Park she knew and loved, before being masked by pain. He laughed, the laugh quickly turning into a cough.
“I thought you said you had my six.”
Hot tears pricked at her eyes. This was supposed to be friendly banter, and instead, his well-meaning joke opened the floodgates. “I’m so sorry. I froze. I-I had to relinquish the controls.” She brushed at her eye with the back of a hand. “I was so scared. I thought, I thought…” Her throat closed, and she covered her mouth, only able to shake her head.
“Shh, Cassie. Shhh. It’s okay. I’m okay.”
“I asked Travis to help me find someone to talk to.”
“Sweetheart–”
She cupped his cheek, surprised at the way his whiskers tickled her palm. “Let me finish, please? When they said it was you I was flying… Everything stopped, and I was afraid I’d lose control. I had a flashback so intense, my arm hurt where I took the bullet.”
“Cass, you don’t have to–”
“I do, I do.” She blinked back tears. “I realized at that moment that the only thing I love more than flying is you, and that nothing is worth compromising your safety. Including hiding my symptoms.”
“That was brave of you, Cass. I know how much courage it must have taken to give up the controls.”
“Randi, my co-pilot was great. Best flying I’ve seen from her. And that’s why you’re here in one piece, on your belly, bare-assed in a hospital in Denver.”
“It could be worse.”
They spoke at the same time.
“You could be dead.”
“I could be dead.”
It shouldn’t be funny. But it was. Nervous laughter bubbled out, uncontrollably. So hard, she doubled over. Tears streamed out of her eyes. Park’s wheezy laughs and coughs joined hers. She laughed until she was spent, and still the tears leaked from her eyes. “I thought I’d lost you.”
“I thought I was done.”
His admission sliced like a knife through her heart. “I was in the sky when it happened. We couldn’t believe what we were seeing.” She squeezed her eyes at the memory, the anguish still too fresh. “We didn’t think anyone survived.”
Parker’s eyes flashed. “Tony? Mike? What happened? No one would tell me a thing.”
“Because you’re not married to them,” she teased. “They’re fine. They were treated at the local hospital, along with Victor the Assistant Superintendent of the Geronimo Hotshots, for smoke inhalation and minor second-degree burns.”
He looked eager for news. And again, her heart squeezed. “They’re working mop up. They promised to stop here on their way home.”
“But how did they survive? They were clearing a site for a safety zone. There’s no way it was truly safe.”
“Well apparently, it was safe enough because they all made it through.” She brushed his hair away from his temple. “You can ask them for the details when you see them, but Mike mentioned something about a big rock and sheltering by it?” She shrugged. There was so much about firefighting that was a mystery to her. And right now they had more important things to discuss.
“Park?”
“Hmm?”
“Can I kiss you?”
His eyes crinkled again. “I thought you’d never ask.”
She leaned in close, her breath catching as she inhaled. He smelled faintly of hospital, of antiseptic and cleaning supplies. But underneath it, she detected him. Her Parker. She pressed her mouth against his with a sigh, a lonely ragged piece of her heart finally slipping back into place and knitting itself together with the rest of her.
She cupped his cheek, his stubble rough on her palm, mouth moving against his in a silent declaration. Reluctantly, she lifted her head, and pressed her forehead to his. “So about this marriage proposal…”
He wheezed out a laugh. “Offer still stands. Are you accepting?”
She pressed another kiss to his mouth. “I refuse to leave until we are husband and wife.”
“I’m afraid that will be impossible.”
“You’re joking,” she teased, keeping her voice light. A little sliver of unease vined through her heart.
“Not really. See, if we get married without my mom, she’ll kill me. Flat out. And I won’t survive her wrath. Not in my…” he nodded his head at one arm, then the other, “weakened state.”
“But what about HIPPA?”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m a paramedic, I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”
“Prognosis?”
“Good, but adopting a wait and see.”
“Will you regain full mobility?”
“Likely, but wait and see.”
“Will you need physical therapy?”
“Count on it.”
“What about going back to your profession? Er, professions?”
“Highly optimistic.”
“Ability to have children?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Absolutely assured.”
She leaned in for another kiss. “Okay, then I guess I can wait.”
“As far as I’m concerned we can get married as soon as I’m able to wear something more than an ass-baring hospital gown.”
She craned her neck. “At least it’s a cute ass.”
“One more thing?”
“Anything.”
“I think the nurse said my Nomex is on the chair?”
She stood, and spied them in the corner. “Yeah, I see them. Why’d you keep them? They’re pretty shredded.”
“Grab the pants?”
Cassie crossed to the pile of clothing that looked decidedly worse for wear. And smelled that way too. “Eww. It still smells like the fire.”
“Front right poc
ket.”
“If you say so.” She jammed her hand in the pocket, unsure of what she was hunting for, until her thumb and forefinger grasped a metal band. She pulled it out, eyes widening as she stared down into a small diamond solitaire. “What’s this?”
Park wheezed out another small laugh. “I’ve been carrying that since I came home from South Dakota. It was mom’s. When we were separated, I carried it in my pocket on the off chance I’d see you. It made me feel like you were with me.”
She sank to the floor in front of him, heart bursting with love. “I love you so very much.”
He gave her a crooked smile. “So, will you wear it? I promise as soon as I can move my hands again, I’ll put it on you proper.”
“I don’t care about proper, Park. Not really my thing.”
“I know. But I want to do things right.”
“Then get well, and you can put as many rings on my fingers as you can stand.”
CHAPTER 33
Two months later…
The morning light streamed in through the curtains in Cassie’s old room. She yawned and stretched, only sitting up when a knock sounded at her door. She’d slept surprisingly well without Parker by her side, in spite of the anticipation for all that today would bring.
She reached for a pillow, the diamond on her left hand catching in the sunlight and casting an array of sparkles across the room. “Come in?”
Beside her, her sister Carolina stirred. “Mmmm, what time is it?”
“My wedding day, sleepyhead.”
Lexie and Lydia popped up from the floor. “Can someone shut the shade?” they asked in unison.
Adulthood had never taken away their twinness. Cassie grinned down at her sisters, heart full. For the first time in years, the Grace sisters were together in one room. It still amazed her, how they’d pulled it off. She never expected them to drop everything and come home on short notice. But they had, and she was thrilled.
Dottie pushed open the door. “Rise and shine my sunflowers, we have work to do.”
They groaned in unison. For three days, under Dottie’s sharp eye, the sisters had spit shined the house, decorated the porch, strung garlands, and prepared dozens of pies. While Dottie had offered to make a wedding cake, she and Parker had passed, requesting apple pie instead. After all they’d been through, they wanted nothing fancy. Just family, friends, and a party with her mother’s pie.
Cassie’s eyes went wide when she saw the women crowded behind Dottie in the hall. “Mother?”
“Mama, what is this?” Carolina squealed, reaching for the blanket.
Lydia started giggling from the floor. “Ohmygod Cass, you’ve been Possied.” She fell backward laughing uncontrollably. “And you tried so hard.”
She had. She’d patently refused her mother’s efforts to have the Posse throw her a wedding shower. She didn’t need anything. She and Parker were living in a bunkhouse on the Hansen ranch. It was already furnished. And Cassie had spent too many years in the military, traveling with nothing but a standard issue wardrobe and the barest of necessities, to want more than she already had. Besides, she’d heard the stories from Millie Prescott and Emmaline Andersson about how wild the older ladies were when they put their party on.
The women crowded into the bedroom, her mother in the lead carrying half a dozen champagne flutes. Millie carried a tray of pastries and a somewhat apologetic smile, Gloria McPherson, the organist at the Lutheran church carried two bottles of champagne and more flutes, Parker’s aunt Martha followed with a bowl of strawberries, and his mother, Peggy, recently adopted into the Prairie Posse, carried another two bottles, plus a bouquet of flowers. Emmaline brought up the rear carrying her wedding dress.
Her sisters, Lydia and Lexie, quickly scrambled off the floor and crowded onto the bed. “Mama,” Cassie begged. “I haven’t even had coffee yet.”
“Plenty of time for coffee after we celebrate. I want to toast my daughters being home together and this day. I never thought one of you would settle down. Especially here in Prairie,”
The sisters groaned. Carolina reached for the flutes and passed them around. “I want to toast to Cassie finally snagging the man of her dreams.”
Uh-oh. She could feel it. The roasting was about to begin.
Lydia leaned over the bed and rooted around in her purse until she raised her hand with a piece of lined paper, folded into a cootie catcher.
Cassie’s stomach dropped. “You didn’t.”
Lydia grinned over her shoulder. “Oh yes, I did. I’ve had this for years.”
“Just waiting to blackmail me, huh?”
“I figured I’d mail it to Parker someday if he didn’t get a clue and finally ask you out.”
“What’s this?” Peggy asked.
Heat burst across Cassie’s chest. Lexie snatched the cootie catcher and jammed her fingers into the tiny folds. “Pick a number between one and eight.”
“Four,” Emmaline spoke up.
Lexie moved the paper back and forth, eyes merry. “Now pick one, three, five, or seven.”
“Five,” Gloria called. Lexie moved the paper again.
“Now, an even number between two and eight.”
“Eight,” the women said in unison.
Lexie removed the paper from her fingers and opened it up. “Cassie is going to marry Parker, have 6 children and live in Tahiti.”
The room sounded in laughter. Cassie’s face was on fire, but at the same time, she couldn’t stop laughing either.
“But here’s the best part,” Lexie said, flattening the paper. “One. Cassie marries Parker, has no children and lives in NYC. Two. Cassie marries Parker, has four children and lives in Europe.”
“So it was always Parker?” Millie asked, starry eyed.
“Yes,” Carolina chimed in. “I found their initials carved into a corner of the playhouse when I was a teenager.”
Cassie waved her arms in surrender. “Enough, enough.” She met Peggy’s eyes across the room of women. “These might have been the schoolgirl fantasies of a girl with a crush.”
“A super crush,” Lydia added.
Cassie ignored her sister, her heart bursting. “But I love your son with all that and more.” She crawled across the bed and stood to give her soon to be mother-in-law a hug.
“I know you do. And I’m so happy we get to share today with you.”
“Time for a toast,” Millie suggested as she worked the wrapper on one of the bottles.
Dottie pulled a long box from one of her pockets. “I know you didn’t want to use my wedding dress, and that’s fine.” She looked over Cassie’s shoulder to her sisters. “One of your sisters might want it. But I hope you’ll consider wearing these.” Dottie opened the box. Inside, lay a strand of pearls, creamy and soft in the morning light.
Cassie gasped in wonder.
“These were your great-grandma’s. First worn at her wedding, then by my mother, then me, of course.”
Cassie nodded furiously. “Yes, I love them. They’re perfect.” They’d go beautifully with her simple linen dress, too.
Someone pressed a flute into her hands, and soon, the women were raising their glasses. “To love that is a beacon in the darkness, an oasis in the fire, and warmth in the cold.”
“Here, here,” they echoed.
“Cassie,” Emmaline spoke softly. “May I show you something?” She motioned Cassie to the dress hanging from a hook on the wall. “I hope it’s okay that I took a little liberty with your dress.”
“What do you mean? It looks fantastic.”
“When you came for your fittings, you kept talking about all the people in your life who were important to you, who shaped you, and how happy you were that they were here with you today. So I sewed them into your dress.”
“What? Where?”
Emmaline pointed to the embroidery that vined its way along the hem and up the side of the dress. They were white sunflowers, but inside the petals, she’d embroidered a name. Cassie’s brea
th stuck in her throat. Following Emmaline’s finger, she could see a line of names, beginning with her parents, and ending at the top sunflower where her name was entwined with Parker’s.
“On the back side, it’s names from Parker’s family.” Emmaline lifted the hem to show her.”
“You’re a true artist Emmaline,” Lydia said reverently. Of course, her sister the shoemaker would recognize a kindred artist. “Speaking of, would you like to see your shoes, sis?”
Cassie nodded eagerly, unsure of what to expect.
Lydia reached under the bed and pulled out a white box. “I know you live in army boots, and your first priority was function. So I made you something soft, with good support, since you’ll be on your feet most of the day.” She thrust the box into Cassie’s hands.
Again, Cassie was too surprised to speak. How was it possible that she was the recipient of so much love? Nestled in the tissue paper were a pair of satin flats, embroidered all over in white, silver, and gold camo. “How did you?”
“I had mama take a picture of some of your fatigues, and I scanned it into a computer program I have and resized it super tiny, and then made the pattern.”
The effect was incredible. To the uneducated eye, it looked more like an elegant tapestry than a camo pattern. “I love it.”
Dottie coughed and brushed a finger across her eye. “Well, ladies, I think it’s time we had ourselves a wedding.”
CHAPTER 34
Parker stood in the shade of the oak tree that dominated the Grace’s front lawn. The leaves sparkled red in the midday sun. Dottie had gone whole hog decorating the property. The porch, where the simple ceremony would take place, was adorned with white and gold netting, threaded in and out with sunflower garlands. Several rows of white folding chairs lined either side of the porch steps. In the grass beyond, tables groaned with apple pie, potato salad, beans, biscuits, and enough pulled pork and brisket to feed an army.
A good thing too, because some of Cassie’s flight crew were here, and Victor Cruz had made the journey all the way from southern Arizona. Parker couldn’t help but grin as he spied his new friend across the lawn, talking with Tony and Mike.
