Page 76 of Fairest of Heart

Doing so just might kill him.

But he couldn’t think about that now. It wasn’t time to grieve. It was time to fight. To beat back despair and cling to hope.

“The end’s not here yet, though.” Titus cleared his throat to give his voice conviction. “The tide may still turn.”

Doc sniffed, and his chin rose a notch. “You’re right. Come.” He stepped through the doorway into the house. “I’ll take you to her.”

Titus followed his grandfather, feeling a bit like he was walking into a church sanctuary instead of a ranch house. A flickering light in the parlor drew his attention as he passed, and what he saw when he peeked inside had him pulling his hat from his head.

All of the Diamond D men had gathered in the room. Some dozed in chairs, others knelt on arthritic knees, hands folded, heads bent.

“They’re praying in shifts,” Doc said softly. “It was Jeb’s idea, if you can believe it. He was determined that they should pray without ceasing through the night, to see Penny through the darkness and into the light of day. They kept vigil all last night, and when she didn’t wake decided to repeat the shifts tonight. Pretty sure it’s the reason she’s held on so long.”

The sight humbled Titus and filled him with a level of peace he’d not felt in years. So much love and faith gathered in one place. No wonder it felt like a church. Surely the Lord was in their midst.

One of the drovers glanced up and met Titus’s gaze. Dusty pushed up from the settee and made his way through the maze of men. “You just get in?”

Titus nodded.

“I’ll see to Rex for ya.”

“You don’t need to—”

Dusty held up a hand to cut off Titus’s protest. “You need to be with Penny. I’ll tend to yer horse. I got the next shift, anyways. Might as well move around a bit to wake myself up.”

“Thanks, Dusty.”

The man shrugged, then pinned Titus with a look weighted with destiny. “That girl means the world to us, Kingsley, but it’s you she needs. Go take care of our girl.”

Titus nodded despite the fact that he felt completely ill-equipped for such an assignment. He had no medical skills or healing knowledge. But according to Doc, Penelope was beyond the reach of medical intervention anyhow. Could something else bring her back? He’d pray, of course. He’d been praying for the last twelve hours, but what else could he do?

Doc led the way into Penelope’s bedroom. Titus held his breath, not realizing he did so until seeing her prompted the air to slowly leak from his lungs. She looked like an angel. So peaceful. Her black hair splayed over the white pillowcase. Her features in repose. Her long dark lashes feathered over pale cheeks. Cheeks missing the rosy tint of health. Lips that should be quirking upward in one of Penelope’s ready smiles lay eerily flat and still. Hands unaccustomed to idleness were folded over her ribs, unmoving.

This was wrong. All wrong. She looked ready for the undertaker. She shouldn’t be laid out that way. She was still alive, doggone it.

Titus clasped one of her hands and tugged it away from her chest. He thought only to rearrange her position, to lay her arm by her side, but once her hand was in his, he couldn’t let go. Heart throbbing, he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss into her limp palm.

“Talk to her, son.” Doc patted his shoulder as Titus lowered himself into the chair by her bed. “Give her a reason to stay.”

32

Talk to her? Titus blew out a quivery breath. He wasn’t sure he could. Not without breaking down. But maybe being strong didn’t matter as much as being present.

He turned in the chair to squarely face the bed, planting both feet flat on the floor as if preparing for a physical skirmish. He leaned forward, bracing his forearms atop his thighs as he stroked his thumb across her wrist.

The skin there was so soft. Different from the calluses lining her palm and fingertips. He felt drawn to both aspects. Her more delicate side elicited his protective instincts and made him feel needed, while her calluses spoke of fortitude and strength, attractive qualities to a man seeking a true partner in life.

And her face? Still achingly beautiful. Her delicate features perfectly proportioned. Yet the spark of vitality he so loved had departed, leaving a pale imitation behind. No quick smile or compassionate gaze. No blushes ready to color her cheeks at a moment’s notice. Her true beauty arose from her spirit, and that part of her had retreated so far that it scared him.

“I, uh, have a reputation in my Ranger battalion.” The words emerged on a rasp. Titus cleared his throat and tried again. “They all think I’m impervious to beautiful women. I thought so, too. Took pride in it, in fact.” He chuckled softly and shook his head. “Then I met you.”

Visions of the first time he saw her flooded his mind. She’d appeared as if from nothing. Suddenly just . . . there. Arms spread wide as she danced in circles. Joy beaming from a face tipped back to drink in the sunlight. Up until that moment, his life had been consumed with duty. Responsibility. He’d been content. Satisfied with his place in the world. Then she crossed his path.

“You were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Covered in dirt and leaves and wearing one of the ugliest dresses known to man, but your smile captivated me. So genuine. So cheerful. It almost hurt to look at you. I hadn’t experienced that kind of joy in years.

“I couldn’t get you out of my head after that. Then when Rowdy found you in the woods . . .” Titus swallowed, and his thumb momentarily stilled its stroking. “It felt like Providence had reunited us. Like we were supposed to be together.” His throat constricted over the words. Moisture gathered in his eyes. His vision blurred.

Don’t take her from me, Lord. Please. I know I should pray not my will but yours be done, but I’m scared of what your will might be.