If I Can't Have You

by Iris Morland

  "Because you think this Thornton guy would love you more than I would? Except I heard around town that you returned home because he'd dumped you. Weird, huh?"

  "You don't know what you're talking about."

  "Don't I? Well, if you don't care about him, then what I do next won't matter, will it?"

  She could hear the shrug in his voice. In the distance, she could see Mark's ranch, and she prayed harder than she'd prayed before that she'd get there in time.

  "Don't do this. It's not worth it." She let out a sad laugh. "I'm not worth it. You'll find somebody else."

  Derek let out a little screech. "I don't want anyone else! It's you, Abby. It's you!"

  Then there was a thump, and Abby wasn't sure what had happened. "Derek? Derek! What are you doing?"

  "This." He requested FaceTime, which Abby accepted. Pulling over, she watched as he lit a match and began walking toward something that shimmered in the sunlight.

  Gasoline.

  "No, Derek, don't! Please don't do this!"

  But he didn't hear her pleading. She watched in horror as he set the gasoline ablaze, gasoline that would lead straight to Mark's barn.

  "I'm sorry," Derek said, although he didn't sound the least bit sorry. "But there was nothing you could do. Goodbye, Abby."

  Caleb pulled out his cell to call 911 while Mark raced to the barn. Harrison shouted after him, but Mark didn't hear him.

  Charlie. The horses. They're in there.

  When he got closer, he smelled the tell-tale scent of gasoline. He threw open the barn doors, coughing as smoke billowed out.

  The fire moved fast as it combined with the gasoline and the dry hay in the barn. Mark heard terrified whinnies of the horses, but no human shouts.

  "Charlie? Charlie!" Mark pulled a rag from a nearby hook and covered his mouth, although the smoke burned his eyes. He could still see somewhat; it wouldn't be long before the smoke became impenetrable.

  "Charlie!" he screamed.

  Then he heard a cry. Mark kept yelling Charlie's name and followed the noise, trying his best to ignore the terrified sounds of the horses.

  He used his hands to feel along the stall walls, keeping his bearings, and finally he saw a figure in the corner of one of the stalls. Dropping to his knees, he found Charlie on the ground, already unconscious from the smoke.

  "Charlie! Goddammit, Charlie, don't you dare!" Mark slapped his friend, trying to get him to awaken, but Charlie only groaned. Mark forced the panic back. How could he carry Charlie out of here with one arm still only halfway healed? Charlie was a big guy, all muscle, and almost equal to Mark in height.

  But Mark had no choice. Grunting with effort, he hauled Charlie's arm around his shoulder, Charlie's dead weight leaning against his good arm. He dropped the rag he'd used to cover his mouth; the smoke filled his mouth and nostrils, burning him and making him cough. Dizziness swamped him.

  "Mark! Jesus, Mark!" Caleb rushed into the stall, his face covered with a wet cloth. When he saw Charlie, he swore again. "I'll get him. Get the horses. Harrison can't get near them."

  Mark helped Caleb get Charlie to lean on him before getting the horses. He knew which stall contained which horse, and he could almost hear Harrison's voice.

  "It won't let me get near it!" Harrison shouted when Mark came into Samson's stall. Samson reared upward, the whites of his eyes showing in the haze.

  "Get Rosemary!" Mark shouted. "She's easier. Cover her eyes with a cloth and lead her out. She's the one to the right of this stall."

  As Harrison hurried out, Mark worked to calm Samson enough so he could cover his eyes and lead him out. Samson recognized Mark's voice, but he wouldn't let him get close.

  With no bridle to grab, Mark was close to panicking, knowing that Delilah and Mirielle were still inside. Finally, Samson let Mark get near him enough to wrap a blindfold around him and lead him outside.

  Once they reached the doors and Mark tore off the blindfold, Samson bolted. Mark gasped for air.

  Harrison had gotten Rosemary out, and Caleb attended to Charlie, who lay on the ground, still unconscious. But Delilah and Mirielle were still inside. Mark watched as the fire began to lick up the roof, the flames shooting ash and sparks for miles.

  He had just enough time to get those two out if he went fast. Dunking a rag into a nearby pail of water, he rushed into the barn, ignoring his brothers' cries.

  The smoke was so bad now that he had to crawl on the ground. His eyes watered, and his lungs seized. He heard Delilah's whinny, and he forced himself to keep going.

  He stood up in Delilah's stall and felt her brush up against him. He said her name in soothing tones, and he found Mirielle crouched near her mother.

  "There's a good girl." To his relief, Delilah wore a bridle that Charlie must have put on before the fire had started. He didn't know how he'd get both horses out at the same time, but if Mirielle followed Delilah—

  "Mark!"

  When he heard the voice, he thought he was hallucinating. It couldn't be.

  "Abby," he breathed as she burst into the stall. Then: "Abby? What the hell are you doing here?"

  "There's no time. I'll take Delilah. Come on!" Her voice was muffled with the rag over her mouth and nose.

  Grabbing Delilah's bridle, Abby started to lead the horse out with Mark helping Mirielle. The foal tried to back away into the stall, but Mark was able to wrap an arm around her waist and carry her to safety.

  But his bad arm couldn't hold the foal's weight, and he grunted as he began to drop her. He saw Delilah run out the front doors, but he couldn't see Abby now.

  "Here!" Abby hurried to his side and helped him carry the foal. His arm screamed, and they'd both be bruised from Mirielle's wicked kicks.

  They reached the entrance and set her free, both gasping for breath.

  And then only a moment later, a beam began to crash down—right on top of Abby.

  Abby arrived in time to see Mark run into the barn. Caleb and Harrison shouted his name, and Abby couldn't move as she saw the flames engulf the barn. Terror raced through her.

  As she'd sped here, she'd called 911, although the dispatch had told her someone else had called minutes earlier. The fire department would be there as soon as they could, but the nearest station was miles away.

  And now Mark was inside that burning barn, the stupid man.

  "Abby!" Harrison came toward her, covered in soot. "What are you doing here?"

  "Mark..." She waited, praying he'd emerge soon. She could barely breathe, and her eyes stung even though she was yards away from the fire.

  "He went to get the rest of the horses, the idiot."

  She counted to five, then ten, and then she grabbed the rag from Harrison's hand, tied it around her mouth as he watched in astonishment, and sprinted toward the barn.

  "Abby! No!"

  The heat was so thick that she was sure she'd be burnt alive. Her heart hammered in fear, but when she heard Mark's voice, she moved toward it.

  She wasn't going to let him die in this barn. Not before she told him she loved him for a second time. When he saw her, he looked so shocked that she would've laughed. Grabbing Delilah's bridle, she began to lead the horse from her stall, Mark following with Mirielle.

  But once Delilah was free, Abby heard Mark swearing. He was about to drop the foal, who had to weigh at least one hundred pounds, if not more.

  Abby wrapped her arms around the foal with Mark holding her from behind, and they awkwardly made their way to the entrance, Mirielle kicking at them every chance she got.

  Abby winced as those hooves connected. They were so close, so close—

  They set Mirielle on her feet, slapped her rear, and she ran outside.

  And then before Abby knew what was happening, she heard Mark scream her name and then a huge weight slammed into her.

  Blackness overtook her, her last thought wishing she could've told Mark she loved him.

  19

  Mark heard shouting, but it was from far
away. A searing heat ripped into his shoulder, making him gasp and swear. He couldn't see from the smoke, and his lungs struggled for breath.

  Abby lay under him, unconscious, and he knew he had to get them out of this damn barn before it was too late.

  He tried to push away the beam that had fallen on his left shoulder. Groaning with the effort, he didn't want to touch it with his hands and injure them as well. But the combination of smoke inhalation and his own weak left arm rendered him useless.

  "Abby," he muttered, eyes streaming. "Abby, don't leave me. Baby, wake up."

  She groaned, but otherwise she didn't stir.

  Mark heaved with all of his might, his body screaming in pain everywhere. The beam finally shifted. Yet it wasn't enough to free them.

  They were going to die here because he couldn't muster the strength to save the woman he loved.

  "Abby, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. I'm an idiot." He didn't know if his eyes were streaming from the smoke or from tears. Maybe both.

  "I love you, Abby." His voice was raspy and hoarse, and he coughed until he wheezed.

  When Abby's eyes opened a little, he knew he couldn't give up. Not without a fight. He'd die trying to save her, even if it meant his own doom. She was all that mattered now.

  He groaned and pushed until he was able to grab the beam with his hands. His palms roared with the pain from the burning wood, but he almost didn't feel it. He was pure adrenaline and resolve. His weak arm screamed at him to stop, and he couldn't see an inch in front of his face with the smoke.

  But then the weight lifted off. He gasped at the sensation of freedom, even though his body throbbed from the pain.

  There were shouts and voices everywhere, converging upon him, but he couldn't keep his eyes open. The blackness descended and then he knew nothing at all.

  Abby awoke to the sound of sirens and water spraying. She smelled smoke, and her throat burned. Rubbing the ash from her eyes, she tried to get her bearings.

  "Abby!" Someone called, "She's awake! Abby, what's your last name?"

  She shook her head in confusion. "What?"

  "What's your last name?" the figure repeated firmly.

  "Davison. I need to see—" Mark. Mark!

  She tried to sit up, but someone pushed her back down.

  "He'll be all right. The paramedics are here and they're taking care of him."

  Abby realized that it was Caleb who'd pushed her down. Her senses were coming back to her in bits and pieces, and her vision began to clear. She needed something to drink.

  "Water," she croaked.

  Caleb pressed a bottle into her hand. "Drink up. Can you sit up? Here, let me help you."

  She knew she was in shock, and she was more than aware that she'd suffered smoke inhalation. As she came to, she felt herself for any injuries.

  She had a burn on her right forearm that had blistered somewhat; her head ached, but when she touched her head for any goose eggs, she didn't find any. More than likely, she'd fainted from the smoke, not from a concussion.

  "How is she?" another voice asked. Harrison approached them, looking a little worse for wear.

  "I'm okay. I need to see Mark."

  She tried to stand up, but she was as wobbly as a newborn foal. That made her think of Mirielle. "The horses?" she gasped.

  Harrison helped her stand, his arm around her. "They're okay, although we haven't caught the black one."

  "Samson," she whispered.

  "Yeah, him. He's a jerk. And Charlie will be all right, too. He collapsed from the smoke."

  Right then, a paramedic came up to them and helped Abby get into an ambulance. She looked over her shoulder to watch the firefighters continue to fight the blaze, although she had a feeling the barn was a lost cause. The only good thing was that there were no other buildings near enough to be in danger.

  As she was taken to one of the ambulances, she passed one that already had a patient.

  Mark!

  Crying out, she broke away from her rescuers, ignoring their shouts. She scrambled into the ambulance.

  "Ma'am, wait—" a paramedic said, but she brushed him aside.

  "I'm a nurse. I'm fine." She collapsed next to Mark, who lay on a stretcher.

  He was covered in soot and ash, his eyebrows singed, and his left hand and his shoulder were bandaged. An IV hung overhead, and the paramedic who'd been caring for Mark moved around her to bandage his right hand.

  He gazed up at her like he couldn't believe she were real. Choking back a sob, she wanted to touch him, but she was afraid of hurting him. She brushed his hair from his forehead, her tears dripping onto his face.

  "You stupid, stupid man," she whispered. "How could you do something so stupid?"

  "Who's stupid? You were the one who ran inside a burning building." His voice was a hoarse croak, but Abby laughed anyway.

  "Then we're both idiots like your brother said." She wiped her eyes, hiccupping and trying to contain her sobs. "Charlie's going to be okay, and so are the horses. You saved them." Her bottom lip quivered. "You saved me, Mark."

  Mark closed his eyes for a moment. When he looked up at her again, those deep green eyes seared through her to her very soul.

  "If anyone did the saving, it was you." He touched her fingers with his bandaged left hand. "You saved me, Abby. I wanted to tell you. I love you."

  Those words sparked a memory, and she knew without a doubt that he'd said them in the barn earlier. Her tears overflowed now. Kissing his bandaged hand, she wept: from happiness, from terror. But mostly she cried because she loved him so much it hurt.

  "I love you, too. You know I do."

  He closed his eyes again. "I'll never let you go, Abby." His voice was only a mumble at this point.

  "Pain meds," the paramedic explained, blushing a little at being privy to this conversation. "We're going to head to the hospital to get everybody checked out."

  "I'll ride with you then."

  The paramedic seemed to want to protest, but seeing the resolve in her face, he recognized it wasn't a fight he'd win.

  Abby didn't take her eyes off of Mark the entire ride to the hospital.

  Two days after he was released from the hospital, Mark grumbled that he was once again laid up with injuries that would prevent him from working.

  He'd been lucky, though: no broken bones or life-threatening injuries. He had burns on his hands and on his left shoulder, and a variety of lacerations all over his chest, arms, and back. He also had some large bruises from Mirielle's hooves.

  But he didn't mind the pain because everyone had survived.

  And Abby—she was alive. She was whole, and well, and the best part?

  She loved him still. He loved her, and she hadn't left his side since the fire.

  "Lunch is ready," she said as she passed by his bedroom. She stopped when she saw him grimacing. "What is it? Is it your hands?"

  He almost wanted to growl at her to stop hovering, but seeing her concerned face stayed his tongue. He was more annoyed with himself than anything else.

  "They're fine. Come here." He wrapped her in his arms, resting his chin on top of her head.

  They stood like that for a moment, enjoying each other's presence. The sound of their breaths, the beats of their hearts.

  Harrison had caught Derek on the edge of Mark's property, and he'd taken him down and dragged him back, kicking and screaming. Caleb to take him into custody, which involved makeshift cuffs involving rope before Caleb had hauled him into the back of his car. Caleb had laughed when he'd admitted that he'd kept Derek in the car by way of child-safety locks.

  Derek had been charged with arson, violating his restraining order, and attempted murder, among other crimes. He currently sat in jail, where he would more than likely stay for a very long time.

  Charlie had suffered from smoke inhalation, but he had been released from the hospital within a day. He was recuperating at home, his wife driving him crazy by refusing to let him do anything himself. Ba
sed on the last phone call he'd had with Mark, he wasn't minding the attention so much.

  Both Megan and Sara had reacted with horror, pride, and even a tinge of exasperation upon hearing that their men had decided to play heroes.

  Although when they'd heard that Abby had run into a burning barn to help Mark, they'd been so shocked that they'd only gaped at her.

  Fiona had come to help at Mark's ranch all day yesterday, but she'd realized that three was a crowd and had left the pair alone. "I'll take care of your cats," she'd told Abby after giving her a hug. "Be sure not to let your young man overwork himself, okay?"

  Now, though, Mark murmured into Abby's hair, "I love you." He could never get enough of saying those words. He brushed strands of her brown hair from her face before kissing her.

  The kiss deepened without thought, and Abby stood on her tiptoes as Mark delved his tongue inside her mouth. How had he ever thought he could live without her?

  She'd saved him—a million times over, and in a million different ways.

  "I love you, too," Abby replied a few moments later, her cheeks a little flushed. She bit her lip then, looking away.

  He touched her chin. "What is it?"

  "I wanted to wait to tell you this, but..." She met his gaze again. "Tina contacted me."

  His breath whooshed out of his chest, mostly from surprise. Why would Tina reach out to Abby of all people?

  Abby explained, "She heard about the fire, and you being in the hospital. She knew you wouldn't want to talk to her, but she wanted to say that she's sorry for what happened that day and wishes you the best. They both do."

  Mark didn't know what to say to that. Oddly enough, he felt nothing at Abby's statement. Neither anger nor gladness.

  He'd finally gotten to a place where the past could remain in the past. Because the future only looked brighter and brighter.

  "That's nice of her, but can I be honest?" he said.

  Abby's lips twitched. "Aren't you usually?"

  "Good point." He touched his nose to hers. "I don't care about what Tina says. Or Aaron."