Men of Courage II

by Lori Foster

  “Anyone standing in your shoes would have felt the way you did.”

  “But would they have left their job? And moved home? Or would they have stood strong and plowed on?”

  “Everyone’s different, Leah, but there’s no dishonor in the route you chose.”

  She sighed. “I don’t even think I realized how much I needed to come until I drove through the hills. Until I breathed the fresh air. And then…”

  When she didn’t answer, he looked into her eyes.

  “And then I saw you. And I knew for the first time in years it was time to think about me, about what I really wanted out of my life.” She stroked a finger over his shoulder. Not a sexual touch, she just needed the connection, and touching him had such a grounding effect. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I know it’s too little too late, but God, I’m so sorry.”

  He leaned in close and amazingly enough, kissed her softly on the lips. “It’s okay.”

  She cupped his face and looked into it, needing to see his expression, needing to see he still felt something for her. “Do you ever think about it now? About how good it was?”

  “I loved you, Leah. No doubt. I believed it was the forever kind of love.” The slow shake of his head made her stomach clench. “And then you broke my heart.” He smiled into her unsmiling face. “Don’t look so stricken. It’s been broken a few times since, and it’s far tougher now.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  WYATT WATCHED LEAH ABSORB what he’d just said, her skin pale and creamy in the low light of the lantern. At least she was no longer blue and shaking, and sharing the blankets as they were, he could attest to the fact she’d warmed up nicely.

  “You’ve had your heart broken since me…a lot?” she asked, trying very hard to be casual, he could tell.

  “Some people get their heart involved in everything,” he said, reminding her that she had held back. He knew his barb hit home when she closed her eyes for a long beat, but instead of feeling victorious, he felt like a jerk.

  “I wish I’d understood then,” she said, “how much I was leaving behind.”

  “What do you mean?” He pulled back a little to see her face better. “You didn’t believe I loved you?”

  “I didn’t really understand—why you loved me, or how you could.”

  He stared at her, totally blindsided by this. “Leah, I loved you more than life itself.”

  The misery in her eyes…damn it. He didn’t want to know she’d hurt, too. That she regretted how she’d ended it. He didn’t want to know she’d thought herself unlovable. He didn’t want to know any of it.

  “So what now?” she asked in a bare whisper of breath, wincing at a particularly loud crack of thunder.

  He dipped his head so that they were nearly kissing, the very organ she’d broken pounding hard and heavy within his chest. “You could take another shot at me.”

  “What?” Her eyes were dark in the lantern’s glow, her arms around his neck as the boat rocked around them.

  “This time I’ll make sure to enjoy the run while it lasts,” he promised. “Every minute of it.”

  She stared at him like he was so familiar and yet an utter stranger at the same time. “Are you suggesting that we resume our relationship?”

  “Our bedroom relationship,” he clarified, “seeing as we’re in a bed.”

  “So this would be a…sexual thing?”

  His smile was grim as another boom of thunder echoed, reverberating in the small room. “It would certainly take our mind off our troubles.” He traced her white lace bra strap down her shoulder, running his finger over the top edge of the cup, over the quivering full curve of her breast. “After all, we’re here, keeping each other warm in the dead of the night, with no one else around for miles and miles, in the face of an incredible storm—that pretty much matches what’s going on inside of us.”

  “How…” She stopped, licked her dry lips. “How do you know there’s a storm inside of me?”

  His finger slid up over her collarbone and settled right over the pulse beating faster than a hummingbird’s wings at the base of her throat. Gotcha, he thought, and kissed the spot. “Your pulse is flying high.”

  “Maybe I’m just scared.” She arched just a little, giving him better access and making her a liar at the same time.

  “Don’t be. We’ve done everything we can to stay safe.”

  “Maybe it’s not the storm scaring me.”

  “Don’t be afraid of anything.” And then, though it was wrong, it was crazy, he took her mouth with his.

  She let out a rough moan and fisted her hands in his hair. He hauled her against him, his hands sweeping up and down her spine before drifting lower, cupping the rounded flesh there in his palms, pressing her against his arousal.

  When she felt how hard he was, she let out another low moan, one that went straight through him. The kiss went carnal at that, deep, hot and wet, and for long moments the only noise was the vicious winds, the creaking of the abused houseboat and the sounds of their passion.

  Until a sudden thundering crash above them had them jerking apart. “What was that?” she gasped, holding on to him so tightly he couldn’t draw a breath.

  “More of the exterior decking, I think.” The long sustained winds were taking their toll. He pulled out of Leah’s arms and slipped out of the bed.

  With alarm, she sat up, the blankets slipping down to reveal her shoulders, her long semidried hair streaming over them. “Where are you going?”

  “Just to make sure we’re holding up.”

  Terror leaped into her eyes. “Wyatt—”

  “It’s going to be okay.” He pulled on his wet jeans and winced. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Be careful.”

  “I always am.” He jammed his feet into his wet boots, staggered with the rocking boat to the corner where he picked up the two life vests he’d found earlier. He tossed her one and slipped into the other, buckling it across his chest and abdomen. “Put that on.”

  “Oh, my God.” With shaking hands she reached for it.

  He moved to the door, then caught sight of her struggling to get into the vest. Moving back to the cot, he kneeled beside it and reached for the buckles. “Nice outfit, reporter Leah Taylor.”

  She let out a shaky laugh as he pulled the nylon straps across her lace-covered breasts. His knuckles brushed her soft, creamy skin while he buckled her in. Then she covered his hands with hers. “Be careful,” she said again.

  “Because you want that chance at breaking my heart again?”

  She searched his gaze. “What if I said I wouldn’t break it, not this time?”

  His heart pitched in unison with the boat. “I’d say I don’t want any promises.” He went to rise but she snagged his wrist.

  “Wyatt—”

  “Shh.” Leaning in, he gave her a quick, hard kiss. For a moment she clung.

  “Stay safe,” she whispered, then let him go.

  ALONE, LEAH TRIED TO LIE BACK and close her eyes. She even managed to snuggle down into the body heat that he’d left behind. For a few moments, her thoughts rattled around in her head like the boat on the water, just as rough and unguided.

  She’d kissed him.

  He’d kissed her back and had looked at her with all the heat and passion he used to. And she knew without a doubt, despite all the time that had passed and the men she’d seen since, nothing had ever equaled what she and Wyatt had shared.

  Which meant she’d never gotten him out of her heart.

  But he’d gotten her out of his.

  Another resounding, shuddering crash had her sitting straight up in bed. “Wyatt?”

  No one but the storm answered. Oh, God. What if he’d fallen? Or if a loose part had hit him? What if he lay unconscious and vulnerable? He could fall overboard and she’d never know. She quickly tossed aside the covers and immediately felt chilled again. She tried to slip her wet skirt up her thighs, but between not being able to bend very far because of the life vest and
the fact that the material stuck to her like stubborn glue, she had little luck. Plus the boat kept tipping her over. When she’d fallen back to the bunk for the third time, she gave up, and wearing only her bra, panties and life vest, wrapped herself in one of the blankets.

  She stumbled to the door. It took her a moment to wrestle it open with her shaking hands while keeping the blanket wrapped around herself but she managed.

  The hallway was pitch-black, the walls around her seeming to be alive with the pounding hail around her. From outside the windows came the steady flash of lightning. She could hear the thunder, coming so regularly it was nearly impossible to tell when one boom ended and the next began. “Wyatt?”

  Still nothing. Standing there holding on to the doorjamb, she hesitated.

  He’d told her to stay.

  But what if he needed her?

  And then came another bone-shuddering thud, accompanied by a wave of movement, ripping her from her hold on the jamb, throwing her down the hallway. She hit the stairs to the upper deck and sat there for a moment stunned. It was as if the boat had just slammed on its brakes in the midst of a high-speed chase.

  Suddenly the door above her bashed open. It got caught in the wind and tore from its hinges, leaving her staring up at the dark, burning night sky.

  Then something came hurtling through the open doorway.

  All she managed was a scream.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “WHAT THE HELL—Leah?”

  Before she could so much as draw a breath, Wyatt rushed down the stairs, pulled her up to him and brushed the hair out of her face. “Are you all right?” Wyatt demanded, yelling over the wind blowing in the open hatch.

  “I heard a crash—”

  “The rest of the canvas shading. The shaking of the boat was because we were drifting. No one had put the anchor down, but I got it. Come on.” With an arm around her, he helped them both along the hallway.

  Water sloshed under their feet now where it hadn’t before. Back in the bunk room, he shut the door and leaned against it for a moment, then grabbed two blankets from the beds, which he rolled up. He shoved the two long, thick rolls against the bottom of the door. “To block the water coming in,” he said and looked around as if looking for something else he could do.

  “You mean…we’re sinking?” This came out in a small voice, and though she hadn’t intended to sound scared, she couldn’t hold it back.

  “No. But you saw the hatch door broke off in the wind just now, right? There’s nothing to stop water from coming down the stairs now. Maybe this will help keep it out of here.”

  For now. He didn’t say it, but he didn’t have to. She saw the look on his face and decided not to ask any more questions that she wasn’t going to like the answers to.

  Satisfied the blankets were going to do the best they could, Wyatt put his hands on his hips and looked at her. In the dark night with only the glow of the lantern, he looked hollow. Weary. “If you’d come up above deck, you might have blown overboard. I’d never have found you.”

  “I wasn’t going to do anything stupid.”

  “Other than leave this room, that is.”

  “I heard a crash. I was worried you were in trouble.”

  “So you were rushing to my rescue?”

  “Yes.”

  He plowed his fingers through his hair, which stood straight up in response, reminding her he’d gotten wet and chilled for the second time tonight. Once again his clothes were plastered to him, and though he wore a life vest, too, she could have sworn she saw him shiver.

  Not that he’d admit to being cold, not this stubborn, beautiful man. “Let’s get you warm,” she said, not surprised when he shook his head.

  “I’m fine.”

  Yes, he was. Extremely fine. But his long, tough body was taut with cold and adrenaline. He always was the strong one, the rescuer. Well, now it was her turn. “Come lie down, Wyatt.”

  “I need to—”

  He broke off when she let her blanket fall. He’d already seen it all of course, her entire package, but he went very still, apparently riveted by the sight of her in purple satin panties and the life vest. She sat down on the bunk and patted the spot next to her.

  He shivered and tightened his jaw. “Cheap trick.” But he came close, tearing off his clothes again, sliding under the covers next to her.

  The life vests kept them apart, and she lifted her hands to remove hers but he covered her fingers with his. “It’s got to stay on.” He wrapped his frozen legs around hers.

  “You think we’re going to need them?”

  He didn’t answer for a moment, but reached up to stroke another stray strand of hair off her cheek. His gaze strayed to the door, to the water slowing seeping in past the rolled up blankets. “We might,” he said after a long moment. “Does that scare you?”

  “A little,” she admitted. “I’m not a very strong swimmer.”

  “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

  A promise. He didn’t trust her enough to accept her promise, and yet he’d made one to her.

  “Leah.” He turned her face up to his. “I won’t.”

  “I know.”

  He stroked his thumbs along her jaw. “Then what?”

  She stared into his incredible eyes and felt her throat tighten. God, she’d once been such a fool to toss him away. If she ever got another chance…

  “Nothing,” she whispered and pressed as close as she could get, sharing and receiving precious body heat.

  “LEAH.”

  She was out, deeply asleep, and didn’t answer. Back in his damp clothes and standing beside the bunk, Wyatt put a hand on her shoulder and gently shook her. “Leah, wake up. It’s over.”

  She opened her lids and blinked up at him with those sea-green eyes that always made him feel like diving right in. There was swimming in his immediate future, but unfortunately not in her gaze.

  “Wyatt?” She sat straight up in the bunk, hit her head on the upper bunk, wincing as she slouched down. The blanket fell to her lap revealing the unintentionally hot outfit of purple panties and the life vest.

  “It’s over,” he said again.

  Her eyes widened. Her palms went to the mattress on either side of her hips. He saw the exact moment she registered the boat no longer moved. “The wind,” she said, dumbfounded. “It’s…gone.”

  “And the sun is out.” He tossed her a granola bar. “It’s stale, or at least mine was, but it’s all the food we’ve got before I go.”

  She blinked again, slow as an owl. She’d never been a morning person, he remembered. If they’d only been in his bed at home right now, with her looking so tousled, hair in every which direction, that sleepy, sexy look in her eyes, mouth at half pout, wearing as little as she was, he could honestly say neither of them would be going anywhere.

  But she wasn’t in his bed, she wouldn’t ever be in his bed again, and he needed to remember that, damn it.

  “Before you go?” she repeated. “Are they here to rescue us?”

  “Babe, I am your rescue. I’ve talked to Logan, and the town’s a mess. The storm took out electricity to at least three thousand homes, and there’s flooding across the entire northern side. Telephone equipment is down everywhere, and all SAR personnel have been called in to help. It’s going to take days.”

  “Days?” His unhappy little camper didn’t looked thrilled at this. “But what about us?”

  “I told Logan we weren’t injured and that I’d get you home safely. He’s rescuing flood victims as we speak.”

  “But…”

  “I’m going to swim to the east shore. There’s a lot of homes there. I’ll get a boat and come back for you.”

  “You can’t swim that far. It’s what, like two miles?”

  More like five. “I can swim that far.” He walked to the bunk and crouched beside her. He looked into her eyes and saw her fear. For him. That did something odd to him when he didn’t want it to. “I’ll be back for
you,” he promised. “Believe in me.”

  Her eyes never left his, though they went suspiciously shiny. “It wasn’t ever you I had a hard time believing in,” she whispered, “but myself.”

  He stood up, wanting desperately to remain unmoved and failing miserably. “I’ll be back,” he said again and walked out.

  SWIMMING THE FIVE MILES wasn’t a problem, though exhausting after the past twenty-four hours. It took him nearly two hours to do it, during which time he worried about Leah and how she was faring, and about everyone else the storm had affected, as well. When he finally got to shore, he went straight to a house he knew well, a neighbor of his. After making sure everyone there was safe, he borrowed their boat to go back and get Leah.

  But by the time he got to her, his radio had been going off nonstop. He had to get to work and join the rescue efforts. It was his job.

  His neighbor offered to drive Leah home from shore, and Wyatt knew it was the right thing to do. He needed to get her off his mind so he could concentrate.

  Which turned out to be the hard part.

  For the next twenty-four straight hours, he and all the other emergency workers in the county worked tirelessly, performing first aid, relocating stranded victims, performing daring rescues for people stuck on their roofs, in trees, clinging to rocks in the raging rivers…whatever it took.

  All while Wyatt’s mind was occupied by something else.

  Someone else.

  Leah.

  It was foolish. What they’d shared, the magic they’d had, had been too long ago, and yet a part of him had wanted to believe he could do what he’d told her he would. Take your best shot. This time I’ll enjoy the run while it lasts, I promise. Every minute of it.

  But he’d lied. It would kill him.

  For the last rescue of his long shift, he and Logan were called to the south side of Denton. Logan flew the helo, while Wyatt rappelled out to rescue a trapped elderly couple. Their creek had risen and overflowed into their farmhouse, which had been built below the flood line. With Dominic’s help, Wyatt got the two of them into the helo, and tried to wrap a blanket around the old man, who had the only injuries of the two. He refused the blanket, insisting Wyatt care for his wife first. She called her husband a stubborn old coot, then hauled him close in her arms, where together they remained until the end of the flight, reminiscing about the “old days” of their sixty-year marriage.