It took all the will he had not to drop to his knees in the dirt right then and there, in front of God and the Realtor and all those tall trees, not to beg her all over again to wear his ring. Somehow he kept hold of himself.
They got in the vehicles and drove down to the land near the falls. It was a nice piece of property, but it didn’t compare with the one higher up.
He told the Realtor that he would meet her Sunday afternoon at her office to make an offer on the property near the summit. She said she would call the owner’s Realtor and let him know the offer was on the way. Then, with a last wave, she got in her mini-SUV and headed down the mountain.
It wasn’t far to the falls. They found a parking spot by the road and took a little trail that wound among the bracken toward the roar of the falling water.
In no time, the trail opened up to a flat section of bank and the falls high above. It was a gorgeous sight, the wall of water spinning and foaming as it fell, droplets gleaming like diamonds in the shafts of sunlight that found their way through the trees as the water tumbled into the pool below.
Best of all, they were alone. No one else had decided to visit the falls that afternoon—at least not so far.
He spread a blanket on the bank, and she set down the picnic basket and their towels. They stripped off boots and socks, jeans and shirts. He got down to board shorts. And just the sight of her standing there in a red-and-white polka-dot bikini reminded him forcefully of how much he wanted her.
“Last one in’s a city girl!” he taunted and ran for the pool.
“Cheater!” she shouted and took off after him.
He got there first and ran right in, with her close on his heels.
“It’s freezing!” He dunked himself, fast, just to get it over with.
“Told you so.” She laughed and started splashing him.
“Now you’re going to get it.” He jumped on her and dunked her. She shot out of the water a moment later, droplets flying every which way as she shook her head from side to side.
“You drive me crazy.” He grabbed for her, needing to pull her close and steal a long, hot kiss in the icy, churning water.
But she shoved him away with a teasing laugh and swam for the falls. He chased after her. She swam fast, vanishing under the falling water, with him close on her heels.
It was eerie and gorgeous behind the falls, the echo of the tumbling water a constant, slightly muted roar, rough gray rock rising up around them on three sides. She swam to the curve of the cliff face and held out a hand for him.
He took it. She pulled him toward her.
As soon as he found his balance on the rock, he reeled her in. Laughing, she let him hold her.
He kissed her then, finally. Her lips were cold, her body covered in chill bumps.
“I could kiss you forever,” he said, when they finally came up for air. “Tessa. I love you.” There. He had said it outright. The world seemed to stop on its axis as they stared at each other. “I swear to you. You’re the only woman for me.”
She gazed up at him, her lips slightly parted. And then she whispered so sweetly, “And I love you.”
It was a great moment. He wanted to wrap it in tissue paper, tie it with a satin bow, save it in his heart and soul for all time. Marry me, he almost demanded.
But she must have known what he would say, must have seen it in his eyes. She touched her cold fingers to his mouth. “Don’t...”
And he let her stop him. He pressed his lips together over the words, held back the demands that tried to push from his throat. He knew in his head that it hadn’t been all that long since the Memorial Day Baby Bonanza Parade, when he first caught sight of her in that silly stork costume and knew he had to meet her. A matter of weeks, that was all. A month and a half.
But he also knew what he wanted. And she’d just said she loved him. They needed to get started on their life together. It hurt him, killed him a little, every time she told him no.
“Carson,” she coaxed, her voice warm and tender, though the icy water pebbled her skin and she shivered in his hold. She curled her cold little hand around the nape of his neck and pulled him down for another kiss. “I love you,” she whispered.
He drank those words from her parted lips, wrapping her tighter, kissing her endlessly.
Finally, she pulled away and admitted, “My teeth are chattering. Let’s go back to the blanket and dry off before I freeze to death.”
Reluctantly, he released her and followed her back through the veil of tumbling water. They swam to the bank, climbed out and ran for the blanket. She was still shivering, so he pulled her between his legs, grabbed her towel and rubbed her hair and then her shoulders.
He couldn’t resist kissing her. Something about her just drove him wild. He pressed his lips to her still-wet hair, licked the water off her cold cheek, kissed his way downward to the crook of her neck, where he nipped her with his teeth.
She laughed, twisting in his hold to face him as she teasingly batted him away. “Stop that. Don’t you—” She stiffened in his arms, her eyes locked on something over his left shoulder.
He searched her suddenly pale face. “What?”
“Look.” She said it way too softly, staring wide-eyed at whatever it was behind him.
Stark alarm hollowing his gut, he turned his head and looked.
Slowly, crouching low, a full-grown mountain lion emerged from the rim of trees that surrounded the pool. Its black eyes pinned them. The laid-back ears and long, twitching tail said it all. The cat had identified them as prey.
For Carson, time stalled.
The roar of the falls receded beneath the roaring of his own blood in his ears. His heart pounded hard and deep, every nerve rising to high alert, each muscle drawing tight.
He knew total fear. It was invigorating. Everything came crystal clear.
An image of his late father flashed in his head. Beyond how to use a rifle and track big game, Declan Drake had taught Carson the habits of all the larger predators.
As a rule, mountain lions were solitary creatures, shy of man. But if they got really hungry or were ill or injured, all bets were off.
This cat had blood on its flank. It had been wounded and now all its instincts pushed it to retaliate, to attack. Somehow, Carson was going to have to take it down.
“Go,” he said softly to the woman in his arms. Keeping his eyes locked on the lion, he took her shoulders and pushed her up and away. “Don’t run. They try to latch on at the back of your neck, so turn and face him. Back away slowly.”
He felt her leave him, felt the lack of her as she scrambled up and stumbled back. Good girl.
In slow motion, or so it seemed to him, while still on the ground, he turned his body so he fully faced the threat. His mind went blank as adrenaline spurted, and his body reacted automatically, even with his brain on hold. When the world came clear again, he was standing fully upright.
The cat kept coming in absolute silence, moving faster now.
Carson planted his feet wide and spread his arms, trying to look larger, more threatening, trying to change the cat’s mind about defining him as prey. He let out a deep, loud bellow of rage for good measure.
Didn’t work. The cat never hesitated. It came on faster still.
Carson bellowed again and braced for the fight.
With a feral cry, the lion pounced. Powerful rear legs launching, deadly claws reaching out, it flew straight at him.
Carson punched his right arm forward, ready for the catch.
Chapter Fourteen
Tessa swallowed a scream as the big cat pounced.
She needed a weapon. She needed to help. Sheer terror coursed through her, every nerve on red alert. Instinct ordered her to flee. But her heart was having none of that.
A weapon, damn it! She glanced around frantically.
A big rock, maybe. She didn’t see one. And where is a nice, sturdy stick when you need it?
Close to hand, she had only a pile of their clothing. She could throw a shoe at the animal, but that wouldn’t do much. There was the picnic basket...
Okay, then. She dipped to her knees and scooped it up by the handle.
When she looked again at Carson and the cat, she couldn’t believe her eyes. He had the animal by the throat—his long, powerful right arm outstretched. The cat danced on its hind legs, lurching as it struggled. It had its paws wrapped around his arm, sharp claws digging in.
Carson was strangling it. And there was blood. Carson’s blood. Flowing down his arm, the side of his neck, his shoulder...
“Tessa, get out of here!” he shouted at her.
Her mind went dead blank. What was the matter with her? She needed to stay focused.
And, no, she was not leaving. Forget about that. And the basket? What good was the basket? If she beat the cat with it, maybe. But the goal was to help Carson. She mustn’t do anything that would dislodge the stranglehold he had on the animal. Clubbing the cat might jar Carson’s grip.
And then she remembered the cheese and salami she’d brought for their lunch. And the knife to cut them with. It wasn’t much. But if she could get in close, maybe...
The cat made weird growling, shrieking sounds, gurgling as it struggled. Carson held on. But for how long?
She upended the basket. Cheese and salami, baggies full of summer fruit, and rolls of crackers fell out—and there! The knife!
She pounced on it, grabbed it and moved in on the man and the cat.
“No!” Carson shouted. “Tessa, get away! Don’t!”
She ignored him, sidling closer, thinking that she had to do something. She raised the knife high.
And in the split second before she brought the knife down, a loud crack sounded.
The cat made the strangest sighing noise—and went limp in Carson’s grip.
Tessa let her hand fall. The knife tumbled, forgotten, to the ground. Carson stood so very still, his grip remaining firm around the throat of the cat. Slowly, he lowered the animal to the dirt and gently laid it down.
She ran to him, dropping to a crouch at his side. “Carson...”
“I’m okay.”
But he didn’t look okay. There was way too much blood. More than one of the gouges on his arm would need stitches.
They both heard the footsteps at the same time and looked up from the still body of the cat to the rim of tall trees. Collin Traub, Nate Crawford, Sheriff Gage Christensen and three other local men emerged into the sunlight. Each carried a rifle.
“Damn good shooting,” Carson said in a flat voice.
Sheriff Christensen patted one of the other men on the shoulder. “Tim here’s the best there is.” He turned his gaze to the cat. “It attacked old Mrs. Calloway’s dog up on Eagle Ridge. She shot it. We’ve been tracking the poor thing to finish it.”
Tessa didn’t care about any of that. Not right now. “Help me get Carson in the SUV and down to the clinic. He needs a doctor now.”
* * *
Carson walked to the SUV on his own steam. Tessa sent a little prayer of thanks to God that it wasn’t that far. Collin offered to drive. It was a steep road with lots of switchbacks, a road that Collin knew well.
Tessa surrendered the wheel and sat in back with Carson, who had her T-shirt and his wrapped around the worst of his injuries. The adrenaline rush was wearing off by then. He was starting to feel the pain, lines etching in his forehead, a rim of white around his beautiful mouth.
He leaned his head on her shoulder. She eased an arm around him and willed Collin to drive faster.
* * *
At the clinic, Emmet went right to work. There were shots to numb the pain, a thorough cleaning of each wound—and a lot of stitching. Carson was up-to-date on his tetanus shots. Though the cat had shown no signs of being rabid, Emmet followed protocol and gave Carson the first in a series of rabies shots and also a shot of rabies immune globulin.
Tessa stood by Carson’s side, holding his left hand—that arm was uninjured—as he endured Emmet’s care. Carson seemed pretty stoic about it, though she didn’t see how he could stay so calm. With every prick of the needle, every swipe of sterilized gauze as Emmet cleaned him up, every last stitch as Emmet sewed the wounds shut, Tessa had to keep an iron grip on herself or she would have screamed terrible things at poor Emmet, would have demanded he go easier, be gentler, even though her own eyes told her he was careful, skilled and kind.
She just couldn’t bear it, seeing Carson hurt. She tried to take comfort from the fact that he didn’t need to be airlifted to the hospital in Kalispell, that he was conscious through all of it and he didn’t even require a transfusion. He had saved them, plain and simple, and he was going to be all right. All that was good, she reminded herself. Much better than it might have been.
Carson would have scars from this. Emmet teased that scars were sexy. Carson actually chuckled at that and shook his head.
The best part was that she got to take him home to the boardinghouse as soon as Emmet was through stitching him up.
As they were leaving, Emmet thanked her for the ads she’d placed back in June. More medical help was on the way. And Rust Creek Falls needed it. In the past week, there had been a sudden spike in pediatric illnesses. With all the new babies in town, the clinic was really having trouble providing needed services.
Tessa gave Emmet a quick hug and whispered, “Thank you, for taking such good care of Carson.”
* * *
Someone must have called her grandmother because Melba and Gene were waiting in the boardinghouse parking lot when they drove in. Melba hustled them inside and said she had a bed ready in a downstairs room if Carson couldn’t manage the stairs.
He put his good arm around her. “It’s okay, Melba, really. I can make it up to my room.”
Her grandmother stared up at him with tears in her eyes. “It was such a brave thing you did.”
He glanced at Tessa. She felt that quick look as a physical caress. “In a situation like that, a man just does what he has to do.”
Melba said, “I praise the Lord you’re going to be okay.”
He kissed her on the forehead. “I am fine—I promise.”
“No, you’re not,” she argued tartly. “But you will be. And that’s what matters.”
“Come on, son,” said Old Gene. “Let’s get you upstairs.”
In his room, Melba fussed over him terribly. Tessa shooed her grandmother and grandfather out to the hallway and helped him into a pair of sweats and a clean T-shirt.
When Melba bustled back in, Tessa ducked into her own room to get out of her still-damp bikini and into dry clothes.
When she went back to the room next door, Melba was getting him comfortable, arranging his pillows just so. He admitted that, yes, he was hungry, so Claire brought up lunch for him and served him right there in bed. Levi brought Bekka in, to see for herself that “Car-Car,” as Bekka called him, was going to be all right.
Finally, almost an hour after they pulled into the parking lot, Tessa’s family left them alone.
Carson patted the bed on his good side. Tessa couldn’t get there fast enough. She crawled in beside him and cuddled close, pressing a kiss to the side of his throat that didn’t have a bandage on it.
“I love you,” she whispered in his ear. She had a whole bunch more to say—so much. Everything that mattered.
But he only gathered her closer, pressed his lips to her hair and let out a slow sigh.
When she tipped her head back to look at him, his eyes were shut. She watched as his breathing evened out and he slept.
Tessa drifted
off, too.
When she woke a couple of hours later, he was lying on his good side, watching her.
She hid a yawn. “Do you need one of those pain pills Emmet gave you?”
He shook his head. “I was just trying to figure a few things out, trying to work out how to tell you...”
“What?”
“First, what you did was dangerous, stepping in with that knife when I told you to get away.”
She almost laughed but somehow held it in. “Are you going to lecture me for not running off and leaving you there?”
“Yeah.” His voice was rough with emotion. “You could have been hurt, and you put yourself in danger. And I can’t stand to think that maybe—”
“So don’t think it. And spare us both the lecture. It’s not going to do any good. You needed help, and I was bound to give it. That’s what people do when there’s trouble—especially when there’s trouble for someone they love.”
“If something had happened to you—”
She stopped him with a kiss. “It didn’t. Let it go.”
A little grunt of pain escaped him as he shifted. “I did have it handled.”
“I saw that. But it was taking too long, and you were hurt. And I just...needed to speed things up.”
“With your trusty cheese knife.”
They stared at each other. And then they both started laughing. It felt so good, to lie there with him, sharing silly and slightly hysterical laughter, safe and cozy together in her grandmother’s house.
Finally, he said, “I’m definitely going to need an extra arm to take care of Jamie Stockton’s triplets on Tuesday.”
“Use mine.”
Dark eyes gleamed. “I was hoping you’d say that. Thank you. I will. Here’s a question for you. How am I going to bear it in a couple of weeks when I have to leave you?”
She gazed at him steadily, sure in her heart, in every part of herself, at last. “You’re not.”
He reached out with his bad arm, wincing as he moved it. And he traced her eyebrows, one and then the other, his touch featherlight. “How so?”
She put it right out there. “Because you’re going to take me with you.”
Marriage, Maverick Style! Page 18
