Healing Heather

by Aiki Flinthart

  ‘And now, with Torin and you in my life, I’m more vulnerable than ever.’ Her shoulders sagged. ‘Let me go, Kade. You can’t protect me from this and I don’t want Carleton hurting either of you.’

  Kade caught her jaw between his palms. ‘Is that what you really want, Heather? To never see me again? Or Torin? Do you want to run and keep running your whole life? Punishing yourself for something you might have done, but didn’t?’

  Tears welled; spilled onto her cheeks. His heart broke and he snatched her into his arms. She stayed still for a long moment, tense. Then she softened and her touch slipped across the bare skin of his back. She wept quietly into his shoulder, in the hopeless way people do when they’ve cried too much and know it does no good.

  Kade held her gently, until the tears dried and she sniffed. Then he offered a tissue from a box on the counter. She wiped her cheeks and blew her nose. Crushing the tissue in her fist, she closed her eyes.

  ‘Sorry to be so maudlin,’ she murmured, a thin humourless smile pulling at her lips. ‘I’m not usually like this. I’m tired. I’ll be fine.’

  Kade stroked back her hair. ‘You’re doing it again. Shutting me out. It’s ok, Heather. This won’t be easy, but I’m here. We’ll get through this, together.’

  A frown creased her brow. Now he wished he could read her thoughts.

  ‘You hardly know me, Kade,’ she said. ‘You don’t know the things I’ve had to do to survive.’ Her haunted eyes flicked to his then away again. ‘I’m not a good person.’

  He shrugged. ‘And you don’t know what I’ve had to do, either. We’re not so different. Just human.’ He grinned. ‘Sort of. Trying to do our best.’

  He slid a hand up her smooth arm, caressed her cheek and the softness of her dusky curls. She let out a quavering sigh and, at last, met his gaze.

  ‘Let me get to know you better?’ he murmured. He kissed her neck and she quivered. Her nails dug into the thin skin on his forearms. He withdrew, searching her face for any sign of fear or rejection.

  Heather hesitated then leaned in and captured his mouth with hers, warm and sweet with coffee. She swayed closer, pressing her lithe body against him. This time there was no calculation or deliberate seduction. Her hands were cool and urgent, caressing his back, stroking his chest. She fumbled at his belt buckle and Kade paused, surfacing for air.

  ‘Hang on.’ He cradled her cheeks and her skin flushed delicately. ‘You sure?’ he asked.

  Her eyelids drooped and she gave a throaty chuckle. ‘Yes, you idiot. Stop being so politically correct and take me to bed.’

  Kade grinned and scooped her into his arms. ‘With pleasure.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  HEATHER

  Heather fitted herself into Kade’s arms and stroked the angle of his jaw. He smiled and caught her fingertip gently in his teeth, suckling, licking, his gaze never leaving hers. A delicious shiver of anticipation skittered across her skin.

  He manoeuvred them into the bedroom and set her on the bed. Then he stood over her just admiring for a moment.

  ‘You’re beautiful.’

  ‘So are you,’ she said. The half-light from the hall threw shadows across his lean, muscular body. She touched two round, pale scars on his right side and looked up at him in question.

  He kissed her wrist. ‘Another time.’

  Heather stretched languidly against the cool quilt cover and scooted across, patting the bed. For the first time…ever…she anticipated sex with hunger and heat, rather than fear. Her body thrummed. She yanked off the men’s business shirt she still wore from their shell-game and wriggled out of the trousers.

  Kade, now wearing only his boxers, slid into bed and lay on his side with one hand propping up his head. Slowly, he caressed down the length of her body, from cheek to hip. Waves of heat and tingles of electricity followed his touch. Heather arched her back and fought the urge to close her eyes and just feel. To be touched. To feel physical desire and pleasure without being drained of energy. It was… almost too much.

  Heat pooled between her legs. Kade nudged her onto her back and stroked a calloused palm across the flat of her stomach. His fingers dipped beneath the band of her underwear, then traced the line of her bra across her breast.

  Heather whimpered. ‘Oh, please, Kade. You’re torturing me.’

  ‘That’s the idea,’ he whispered, his breath tickling her neck.

  She chuckled. ‘You have no idea how different this is… to only feel touch.’ She sighed and arched again. He unclipped her bra and teased it off her arms. His finger traced light circles around her breast, so close…

  ‘That’s why I want to make it feel good,’ he replied. ‘Tell me what you want.’

  ‘This. I don’t kno—’

  He touched her nipple. Lightly.

  ‘Oh!’ The throbbing between her legs intensified and she clutched at the quilt. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Open your eyes so I can see what you’re feeling,’ Kade said, his voice rough.

  She did, saying, ‘Open your thought-window and you won’t have to guess.’ Would he allow it? Was he ready? Was she ready? This was all happening so fast.

  His touch faltered. ‘Will you be able to handle it?’ He gave a strangled laugh. ‘I’m holding on by a thread, here.’

  She studied him. If they were going to trust each other—to believe each other—they needed to allow access to their deeper thoughts. Yes. Trust wasn’t easy, but someone had to take the step.

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘I know how to separate thoughts from power, now. And how to control the flow so I’m not overwhelmed.’ Feeling oddly shy, she opened a window for him and felt his strength, his intelligence, his soul connect.

  For a timeless, wonderous moment, they were suspended in what Rowan had called the sianfath. The connection with each other and with the Earth. Intertwined. Golden.

  Heather reached for Kade and pulled him into a kiss, wanting more. His lips, soft and warm; his touch, strong and certain; his mind, brilliant and—

  She tugged free and scrutinised him, desire withering and leaving cold uncertainty in its place.

  ‘You are still afraid of me,’ she said, slamming shut her thought-window.

  Kade flinched. He scrubbed a hand over his short hair, his eyes sliding away.

  She snatched up her bra and clipped it on, shaking. With loss. With burnt-out longing. With self-disgust. She had been right. Even having more control over her gifts didn’t make her normal, or human. She would never have what everyone else took for granted. Love. A simple connection with all the possibility of misunderstandings and hard work that made relationships so… human.

  Because she wasn’t human. She didn’t deserve love. Not after what she’d done. What she could still do.

  Behind her, Kade sighed. ‘I’m not afraid at you, Heather.’

  She dragged her shirt on. ‘You can’t lie in that thought-window connection, you know. I felt it.’ She raked him with scorn. ‘Oh, you wanted me, but you were so damned scared it was like a black fog in your brain.’ Shoving her feet into her trousers, she rose and yanked at the zip, though she could barely see through tears.

  ‘Fuck!’ Kade rubbed at his temples. ‘You don’t understand. I—’

  ‘Yes, I do. I’m afraid of me. You’d be crazy not to be. I hate myself for hoping when I should know better by now.’ She snatched up her bag, then stuffed her feet into the men’s shoes she’d worn. Her throat was so tight she could barely speak and her chest was leaden.

  ‘Dammit! No. You’ve got it all wrong.’ Kade rose from the bed and hauled his shirt and pants on.

  The shirt hung unbuttoned, giving tantalising glimpses of his muscular stomach and chest. Heather gulped.

  ‘I’m not afraid of you.’ He swiped a hand across his face. ‘I’m afraid of repeating past mistakes.’

  She paused, wanting to believe, afraid to risk everything and be proven right again. ‘What past mistakes?’

  He stood, his head lowered,
face blank and shadowed. ‘I used to be married.’ He rubbed at his left ring-finger. No pale ring-mark, so it must have been a while ago. ‘We met in high school. I loved her more than I thought possible. She was…a sparkler amongst candles. Brilliant. Energetic. Spontaneous.’

  Reluctantly, Heather dropped her bag and sat, keeping a careful distance between them. She waited.

  KADE

  Kade glanced up, struck again by Heather’s fierce beauty. The crystal clarity of her eyes. The poised wariness of her tension. A wild cat about to flee. If he wasn’t careful he could wreck everything, right now. He paced the small, bare room twice, from the thickly-curtained window to the door and back again. He stopped by the window and twitched the curtain aside before dropping it.

  ‘But Amanda died. Eight years ago.’ He cleared his throat against a customary surge of grief and guilt. Less, now, than it had been, but still visceral; still painful.

  Heather’s soft mouth drooped. ‘I’m sorry. What happened? That is, if you want to say…you don’t have to…’

  ‘Tor keeps telling me I should talk about it.’ He smiled thinly. ‘But he’s not much of a role model in these things.’ He tried to hold tight to the welter of emotions roiling in his gut. Returning to the window, he propped one shoulder against the wall, shifted the curtain and stared again at the busy street below. The apartment was on the third storey in a popular, expensive neighbourhood full of young families and people walking their dogs. Across the road, a young man agonised over bunches of flowers in a florist’s display, inspecting first a spray of white roses, then a huge bundle of daffodils.

  Amanda had loved daffodils.

  Kade spoke quietly, ‘I was on deployment. Clearing out terrorist cells in Afghanistan. Hadn’t been home in about seven months. Took two bullets in the body.’ He stroked the hard scars under his ribs.

  Heather made a soft, sympathetic sound.

  He didn’t look around. ‘My own stupid fault. We’d been warned they were using armour-piercing bullets and I got cocky. Tor got me to base and into surgery. Then I got an infection was flown to the US for better treatment.’ Sighing, he closed his eyes briefly. It still hurt to remember.

  ‘And?’

  ‘And,’ he continued, ‘by the time I was lucid and healthy enough to be told, Amanda had been gone for a week.’ He clenched a fist. ‘I’d been less than a hundred miles away, in LA, and hadn’t even known she…’

  ‘How?’ Heather asked, softly. There was a rustle and she came to his side. She fitted her warmth against his back, one hand rhythmically stroking his arm.

  Kade rushed through the rest. ‘She hadn’t told me she was pregnant. Hadn’t told anyone on the base. Wanted to surprise me.’ A mirthless laugh escaped him. ‘She died in childbirth. An unregistered midwife botched the delivery. Both Amanda and… my daughter…’ Tears clouded the scene outside and he swore again. ‘I should have been there. She shouldn’t have died alone. Shouldn’t have died at all! I would have made sure they were safe. They were buried before I even knew. I never saw…’

  ‘Oh, Kade,’ Heather whispered. ‘I’m so sorry. Now I understand why you hated me. I’m so sorry.’ Her hands pressed against his shoulders and he turned around. He buried his face in the curve of her neck, breathing in her sweet, warm smell. She rubbed his back.

  He raised his head. ‘I don’t know if I can go through that again. That’s what I’m afraid of. Not you. Of falling too deeply for you, then losing you. Amanda was everything to me and I haven’t let anyone close, since.’

  She sighed. ‘People die, Kade. It’s life. And I would like—one day—to have kids, so it’s a risk. But I’m the least likely person to avoid proper medical treatment.’ A quick frown flickered. ‘Though, I don’t understand…’ She stopped. ‘No. Never mind.’

  He straightened, unease stirring in his stomach. ‘What?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’ She offered a thin, superficial smile. ‘Maybe we should think about ordering dinner?’ She glanced at the bed and blushed. ‘I’m not sure now’s the right time for anything else.’

  Kade stayed where he was. ‘What don’t you understand, Heather?’

  She disengaged from him and retreated. Her arms went across her stomach. ‘I guess I don’t understand why she didn’t tell you. And why no-one else told you.’ She raised one shoulder. ‘Seemed…odd. But it’s none of my business.’

  He clenched his teeth. ‘Like I said: she wanted to surprise me. She moved off base so none of the other partners would gossip. She knew how much I wanted kids. Can you think of a better surprise present?’

  ‘I guess not. But I’ve found most married women want their husband to be part of the pregnancy as well. I just thought it was strange that she didn’t.’

  He returned to the window, digging his nails into his palms. She was only voicing nagging uneasiness he’d felt eight years ago and put aside, buried along with Amanda and the baby. It wasn’t fair to lash out at her, no matter how much he wanted to.

  ‘What…’ her voice was soft, fearful ‘…what happened to the midwife?’

  He grunted. ‘Never caught. The police couldn’t track her.’ He glared, unseeing, along the street. Golden, late afternoon light sent purple shadows creeping along the tarmac. ‘Her name was Miriam Johnson. Know her? It would be nice to catch up with that one.’

  No reply. Kade glanced back. Heather sat on the bed, her face ashen and eyes wide. She looked down.

  He frowned. ‘You do know her?’

  She seemed ridiculously young and vulnerable in the too-large men’s clothing. Her hands clenched in her lap.

  ‘It was one of my names. I’m Miriam Johnson,’ she whispered.

  Shock stole Kade’s breath from frozen lungs. His body wouldn’t move. All he could do was stare at her. Blood pounded in his throat and a fountain of fire burned in his stomach. He stalked toward her and she shrank away, arms raised, head turned.

  ‘Don’t!’

  Kade paused, fists balled at his sides, whole body trembling with the effort of holding in eight years worth of grief and anger.

  ‘I wasn’t going to hit you,’ he said, low and hard. ‘I’ve never hit a defenceless woman in my life. But I do want an explanation.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  KADE

  She slowly straightened. ‘Where did she live? What was her name? Her last name. I don’t remember ever seeing an Amanda Miller.’

  He controlled himself ruthlessly and folded his arms. ‘Camp Pendleton. She was living in San Marcos. Her maiden name was Black, but I can’t imagine why—’

  Heather’s eyes flew to his. ‘Amanda Black? I…I remember her. Blonde. Tiny. Penicillin allergy.’

  ‘Yes.’ He fought a maelstrom of emotions so wild and overwhelming he could barely name them. Adrenalin spiked through his body and he shook.

  He yanked out his phone and did a quick search on Google. When he found what he wanted, he took one last view of Heather. He could barely stand to look at her, now. Not knowing what she’d done. He’d been an utter idiot for believing her lies.

  ‘Who are you calling?’ she asked, clutching a pillow over her chest. ‘Kade, you have to listen. Amanda was—’

  ‘Enough,’ he growled. ‘I don’t want to hear your bullshit excuses this time.’

  ‘But let me—’

  ‘No. Her doctor, Jeff Saunders, was a close friend. He told me the medical findings; the midwife’s name—your name.’ He curled a lip. ‘The birth was a month early. Mishandled and Amanda died of complications. The baby died with the cord around her neck. I don’t know why Amanda called you in rather than going to the hospital, but you could have saved her and you didn’t.’

  Heather gasped, the colour draining from her cheeks. ‘But that’s not—’

  ‘Stop,’ he said. ‘I’m not interested.’

  She opened her mouth then closed it into a thin line. Her jaw worked, her eyes flashing.

  Kade ground his teeth. She wasn’t even going to defend herself.
Clearly, she’d worked out there was no point. The sour taste of betrayal scorched his throat.

  His thumb hovered over the dial button.

  No.

  He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t hand anyone over to Carleton, not even her. Cold and sick, he hit Cancel and rang Torin instead.

  ‘Tor,’ he said shortly, ‘come and get your sister. Don’t ask. Do it.’ He hung up before Torin could reply and shoved the phone into his pocket. ‘Get your things. We’ll wait in the lobby.’

  Heather gazed at him in open disbelief. ‘I can’t…I can’t believe you did that. So much for believing and trusting me.’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said roughly, nausea twisting his stomach, ‘well I can’t believe I fell for your rescue-me woe-is-me crap.’ He grabbed her wrist. ‘Come on.’

  She threw the pillow aside and rose from the bed. Her chin hardened and she looked him square in the eye.

  ‘Let go of me, Kade Miller. Don’t make me drain you, because after that stunt I will. You want to paint me as the badguy without hearing my side, then I’ll prove you right. You think I’m a killer? Watch me.’

  He released her. She collected her bag and coat and headed for the kitchen.

  ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ he yelled, running after her.

  ‘Away from you. I should have known I couldn’t trust anyone.’ She touched the scar on her temple. ‘I thought I’d learned that lesson.’ She yanked the front door open.

  Kade threw his weight against it and slammed it shut. ‘What did you mean ‘your side of it’?’

  ‘Get out of my way. I won’t give you another warning.’ She stopped, her eyes icy, hard, and cold as the winter winds outside.

  ‘You can’t leave.’

  ‘You can’t stop me.’ She touched his arm and he felt the draw begin. Warmth drained from his body like oil. His knees buckled.