Montana Rescue (The Wildes of Birch Bay Book 2) (29 page)

She hadn’t expected that. Any of it. She’d hoped when she came tonight that he could get there. Love her someday. That maybe he hadn’t given up on her yet. But after seeing him, she’d shut down all hope. He was too distant. He remained that way now, too, even though he’d said he loved her. He seemed shut down.

“I’ve already moved back to Birch Bay,” he added when she continued staring at him. “I’m living in town. And I’ve been accepted to UM. I start in the fall.”

Harper’s jaw unhinged. He really was figuring his life out. “That’s good.” She nodded. She hadn’t realized he’d been thinking about going back to school.

“I haven’t decided where I’ll live when school starts. I might rent a place in Missoula. Or I could drive from here. But I think I might be an accountant.”

A broken chuckled slipped out of her, and she put a hand to her mouth. “An accountant?” Tears showed up again. She’d been crying for days. Over everything. She’d never cried so much in her life. “That’s a far cry from bull riding, isn’t it?”

“It is.” The lines on his face softened the longer he looked at her, and a smile finally began to form. “But I’ve always liked numbers. And if accounting isn’t what I want, then I’ll find something else. Something ‘normal.’ I want to be that guy. No commercials, no screaming crowds.”

“No buckle bunnies?” she asked, trying to come across as teasing.

“You know I gave them up the day you came into my life.” Nick’s smile faded, and he was Mr. Serious again.

“I know,” she said softly. And she did. Because
she
was special to him. And he was special to her. “But if you decide you want to keep something a bit higher octane in your life, as well, let me know.”

Confusion clouded his eyes.

“I’m rejoining the SAR team,” she explained. “I could use a good man beside me. If that’s something you might be interested in.”

“You’re going back?”

“I shouldn’t have quit.”

She recognized the pride in his eyes. “You just paused,” he said.

She stared at him, wanting him to touch her but afraid to ask. He still hadn’t moved any closer to her. “I’ve also started a foundation in Harry’s name. It’ll support a number of causes, most of which will be search and rescue.”

“You’re doing good. I’m glad to hear it.”

She nodded. “I am doing good. I’m trying. It’s been a long couple of weeks. I talked to my Mom.”

She didn’t say more, wondering if he’d understand what she’d just shared with him. She’d finally opened up with the people in her life who’d been there for her forever. Who’d supported her the most. That had been the final shove she’d needed to begin to see a new life for herself. And she had no doubt she wouldn’t have been ready to accept that shove without Nick.

“That’s really great to hear.” Though he hadn’t moved, it suddenly felt as if he’d wrapped her in his arms. “And I meant what I said.”

Oxygen quit making its way to her brain. “That you love me?” she squeaked out.

He nodded.

Nerves kept Nick rooted firmly in place. She’d said she’d come to thank him, but his hope had become unmanageable. There had to be more to it. He’d seen the flare in her eyes with his words, but he couldn’t make her feel things she didn’t want to feel. And if she refused to go there, then he would walk away from her again.

But this—
she
—was worth one more try. It was worth putting his heart on the line.

“I know you loved Thomas,” he told her. “But do you think it could be possible to have two loves in your lifetime?”

Legit tears streamed over her cheeks, and she sniffled. “It’s possible,” she choked out.

Nick almost reached for her, but he forced himself to wait. She had to be sure. And he had to hear it.

With both hands, she scrubbed at her eyes, but it did no good. More tears waited in line. “I had a long talk with Thomas.” She hiccuped on a breath. “I told him about you. About us.” She dipped her chin. “He gives his blessing,” she whispered.

Nick lifted her chin then, but he didn’t say a word. Instead, he showed her with his eyes everything he felt.

“I love you, too,” she wailed.

His arms closed around her, and he silently swore that he would never let her go.

“Would it help to know that I’m scared, too?” He kissed the top of her head. “I wasn’t supposed to fall in love at all,” he told her. “You get it twice, but I didn’t even want it once. I don’t do vulnerable. Not after my mother.”

She sniffed, and he could feel the dampness of her tears soaking through his shirt. She’d somehow cried behind his leather vest.

“I want this to last, Harper.” He kissed her hair again and then brushed it back from her face. He pressed his lips to her red eyes. She was salty, and he made a mental note to replace that taste with powdered sugar later tonight. He’d pick up a funnel cake on their way out. “We’re real,” he told her. “This thing we feel. I want it to last.”

“I do, too. And yes, it’s real. I know that. I still can’t believe I’m lucky enough to get a second chance, but I’m not so stupid that I won’t take it. I ache without you, Nick.”

“Then don’t be without me.”

She held his face between her hands, and he stared down at her. He loved this woman.

“Will you love me forever?” she asked nervously. “Can it last that long?”

“That’s already a done deal.”

She nodded, and he could see the love shining in her eyes, as well as something else. Something . . . mischievous. It made him wonder what had run through her head. When she opened her mouth, her words were the last thing he expected to hear. “You love me for my big balls, don’t you?”

Nick dropped his forehead to hers. “Babe.” He chuckled with the word. “You’re one of a kind.” Pulling back, he once again turned serious. “Don’t you know it’s that particular trait of yours that won’t let you give up on life. On love? Yes,” he whispered, his tone now urgent. “That’s
exactly
what I love about you. You’re tough and strong. And I want to be strong with you.”

She nodded, blinking against her tears. Her lashes had turned spiky, and black smears outlined her eyes. “Then I have to tell you that I might need to be held up occasionally. I’ve discovered that I’m not quite as tough as I once thought myself to be.”

“You’re more tough than you ever realized.” He kissed her, relishing the fact that he had the right to do that. “But as I’ve always told you, I’ve got broad shoulders. And I think they may have been made solely to hold you.”

Epilogue

B
e honest. What do you think?”

Nick stood on the other side of the room from the wall he’d just painted, and waited for Harper’s response. While waiting, he formed his own opinion. And that was that he was no painter.

“Uh . . .”

“I know,” he said. “I see it.” Somehow he’d left roller marks along the entire wall.

He put down the roller, propping the head on the edge of the paint tray, and moved in to inspect the damage. They were in the house they’d moved into only the Friday before, and they had a houseful of guests showing up in thirty minutes for a Labor Day cookout. And he’d just destroyed their guest room.

Thankfully, only family would be coming today, so the room didn’t actually have to house an overnight guest. He’d just wanted to show off the new color, so he’d pulled out the paint.

“I think you better keep searching,” Harper muttered. She remained three feet from the wall, her head tilted to one side, and studying his mess. “Painting is
not
your passion.”

“I never said it was my passion,” he grumbled. But he’d expected to be better at it than this.

Since July, they’d continued to date and had worked together to redecorate Harper’s house and put it on the market, and last week Nick had started classes at the University of Montana. Harper had not only rejoined search and rescue but had been hired on full time, as well. And now they had a new house to take care of. Their lives were mapping out even better than Nick could have ever imagined.

“You’d better get cleaned up,” Harper said. She took another long look at the wall, patted him on the chest as if in sympathy, then headed out of the room. “I’ll get the grill going,” she called back.

As it always was between them, she thought she was the tougher one.

“
I’ll
get the grill going,” he stressed. He headed down the hallway after her but drew up short when he found her standing in the middle of their spacious kitchen, staring silently out the back windows. The view was beautiful from here. They’d picked a home in her parents’ neighborhood, and though the house wasn’t on the lake, it sat on a slight hill, and they caught glistening glimpses of blue from this spot any time the sun shone bright.

Nick eased up next to her and slid an arm around her, and when she immediately molded herself against him, he thought of how far they’d come.

“I love you,” he told her. He kissed the top of her head, and she tilted her face up to his.

“And I love you.” She glanced back at the view. “I love this, too.”

“It’s not nearly as big as what you had before.” Nick had worried he’d come up lacking.

“I had too much before. That was more about Thomas and his parents than anything.” She’d tried once again to contact her late husband’s parents after she’d gotten the Harry Stone Memorial Foundation set up, but they’d never returned her query.

“You don’t miss having a helipad in the backyard?” Nick asked. They had a walking path at the perimeter of their property and a view of the community playground, instead.

“I will admit that I miss looking out the back and seeing my baby every day. But she’s not far away.” Since Harper now worked full time for SAR, the helicopter remained parked at the station.

He shifted to position her in front of him and wrapped both arms around her as they watched a boat bob far off on the lake. In the foreground, neighborhood children squealed on the playground. Nick touched his lips to the side of Harper’s neck. “We could call our families and cancel,” he murmured. They’d been so busy moving in and unpacking, they had yet to properly christen the house. “Just you and me, enjoying our view together.” He pulled a groan from her as he tugged her back against his erection. “We could start by checking out the view in the shower together.”

“Not on your life, Wilde.” She arched her neck to allow him better access, and her words came out soft. “Everyone is anxious to see the house. And I want to show it off.”

“Then we’ll just have to kick them out early.” His hands closed over her breasts.

“I wouldn’t argue with that.” Gorgeous eyes met his as she tilted her head back to look up at him, and Nick knew without a doubt that he’d found where he belonged.

“Marry me,” he said. They hadn’t talked about it in weeks, but his desire had never been secret. “Put me out of my misery.”

She nodded, and tears appeared in her eyes. “But you have to promise me babies.”

His life was complete. “I’ll promise you anything.” He kissed her gently. “I promise you
everything
.”

Acknowledgments

A
s usual, this book wasn’t written by my imagination alone. Which is a good thing, because I probably would have gotten way too much of it wrong. But thankfully, I have great friends and terrific readers, and they always hook me up with excellent sources of knowledge. I’d like to thank Darynda Jones for always seeming to “know someone,” and for reaching out to her brother-in-law in my time of need. David Scott, you were a great wealth of helicopter and SAR information, and just a really cool guy to chat with. Thank you so much for answering my random questions, and not for making me feel like a moron for all the things I didn’t know. I suspect I probably got some things wrong in the book, but I promise I tried hard not to. And rest assured that without your help, I would have gotten much more incorrect!

And Montana McDade and Rhonda Ziglar. Thank you, Rhonda, for sharing your daughter with me, and thank you, Montana, for (like David) answering an eclectic selection of questions. Your and your husband’s knowledge of all things rodeo, bull riding, and bull raising astounds me, and because of you, I had a blast putting my own stock contractor in this book. She is not you. I swear. But her occupation did totally come about because of you. I think a girl raising bulls is the coolest thing ever!

And then, there’s Google. Probably all authors should always thank Google. Without it, there would be a lot of question mark placeholders in every single book I write.