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Sheridan woke to the soft chirpings of birds, or were they cicadas? She groaned, her body feeling stiff. Her eyes fluttered open and she stared around the room bewildered. Where was she? She shifted and pain slashed through her right shoulder. She felt for the source and froze when she felt the bandages. Memories rushed in of cantering on the range, the crack echoing in the basin, and the burning pain. The horror she had seen on Elijah’s face and then the abyss. Then hands half waking her to force her to swallow broth, and cool waters bathing her. She had been shot.
Panic surged through her and she pressed her hands to her stomach. Her baby? She felt no pain or tenderness. Her stomach growled. She eased herself into a sitting positing wincing at the pain as she reached out to grip the table.
She blinked at the amount of flowers in the room and on the table. Where was everyone? She tried to reach for the bell and paused when she noticed the letters. Five of them in total. She reached for the one closest to her and unfolded it. It was to her…from Elijah? Oh God had he left? Seeing her hurt would have reinforced all of his nightmares and proved to him why she was unsuited for the west.
Tears filled her eyes as confusion rushed in at the words
Sheridan
You will wake today. I sang for you last night to the amusement of Joshua. You have been sleeping for five days and you need to wake.
She stared at the letter in amazement. She looked at the remaining four. Elijah had written her a note every day?
She plucked up another.
Our baby is well. Doc Martin says the baby will be fine. You will only know that when you wake. I brought you lilacs.
Relief powered through her and tears pricked her eyelids. The baby was safe. It took a while for her to realize he said our baby. Sheridan made to reach for another and her eyes caught the basket under the table. Dozens of crumpled paper lay inside. And suddenly those were the ones she wanted to read, his failed attempts.
She made to reach for the bell and hesitated. She wanted to read the crumpled notes in privacy. She looked around and noticed the cane by the headboard. She reached for it and used it to hook the basket and draw it to her. Then dipped and winced at the sharp bite in her shoulders and lifted it onto the bed.
Sheridan did not understand why it was so important to read his failed attempts but she needed to. She was hungry, achy, and more than apprehensive and she knew if she rang the bell, Beth or Mrs. Clayton would come running. She dug her hand in the basket and took out one of the crumpled ball.
I ache to see your smile, the joy in your eyes
Her thumb ran across the words as if she could erase the line he had drawn through the words. She reached for the next crumbled ball. Her throat went tight with emotion.
I have been an ass. I love you so much I
She was almost afraid of the wild elation surging through her blood. With trembling hands she rested the basket on the bed. She dealt with the remaining three notes on the table. They were all terse commands about why she needed to get well, nothing about love. And she instinctively knew the crushed ones would follow in the same vein of loving words.
She placed the basket on the ground, rang the bell and eased onto the bed fully already tiring from her slight excursions. Within less than a minute Elijah swept through the door and her heart melted. His beard was gone, his hair was shorn closer to his scalp, revealing the strong lines of his handsome profile. The sleeves of his blue chambray shirt were rolled to his elbows and his jeans looked like they had barbed wire holes in them. He had never seemed more perfect to Sheridan.
“You’re awake.” He sounded gruff.
Her throat worked as she swallowed. “Hi.”
Her stomach chose that moment to rumble. He disappeared before she could say anything, to return a few minutes later with a tray. He walked over to her and placed it on the table. The scent of soup wafted up and her mouth watered. With efficient but gentle movements he placed a few pillows behind her and placed the tray in her lap.
She gave a small smile. “Thank you.”
He sat in the chair beside the bed and watched her with an intensity that had heat fluttering in her stomach. Her heart was singing and she wanted to shout at him that she knew he loved her. But she held her composure with a will she had not known she possessed and took small sips of the soup. The warmth hit her belly and for a few minutes she knew nothing as she demolished the bowl. She expected to feel the heave in her stomach, but it was thankfully calm.
He took the tray and placed it on the table.
She stared into his serious mien, her heart clamoring. Why was he so closed away? Fear suddenly surged. What if the reason he had crumpled the letters were because he was not sure if he loved her and he was still going to leave?
“We need to talk. Are you feeling well enough?”
She nodded as dread and anticipation combined beating inside her heart. If he told her he was leaving she would smack him over the head with the cane. She would then wait until she was healed and then follow him up to his mountain until he relented and could do nothing but love her. For her the moment of clarity when she had been shot had been knife sharp. Elijah was home for her whether it be with him at the Whispering Creek, in the mountain cabin or at the Triple K, and she would be damned if she allowed him to take the coward’s way out.
***
“Sheridan.” Elijah felt her start when he gripped her hand and laced their fingers together. She gazed at him with weary determination, and then looked down at their clasped hands.
He paused glancing away for long seconds. He did not know how to offer soft words. When they had been together he had communicated with touch, with passion, yet he felt he could not do so now. “You are the strongest woman I know, and I would be honored to have you for my wife, if you will have me.”
He chuckled at the look of sheer shock that bloomed on her face. He dipped and pressed a hard kiss to her parted lips. Before she could respond he lifted his head. “When you got shot, I almost died. My world went dark and I was almost useless to you. I always believed I was not strong enough to lose someone I loved again and survive. Not brutally. Not bloodied and broken.”
