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“I should have gone with you.” Her crooked smile crushed him. “Zander, I was wrong. Family is important. I realized that as soon as you left. I should have gone after you. I knew where we parked.”
“My fault. You were right. There’s nothing I can do until Ty’s surgery is finished. I was pacing at the airport waiting for a flight when Quinn called. You should have called me,” he chided, stroking his finger down her arm. He had to touch her. He couldn’t keep from reassuring himself that she was okay. Well, not okay exactly … but going to be okay.
Heather smiled at his soft touch. It was exactly what she needed. His smile erased her earlier hurt feelings. He’d come back for her. He’d put her first! Her grin morphed until her swollen cheek hurt. “Thanks for coming back.”
“How could I not? I love you, Heather Olsen.” His smile warmed her heart. It felt full to bursting.
“I love you to Vancouver and back,” he whispered then leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes.
She closed hers to savor the moment. “I love you, Zander Bellamie.” Being there, with him, was bliss. If it weren’t for the agony of her injuries, this would be the perfect moment.
“Rio Del Bravo is playing in Abilene next month. Wanna go?” he asked.
Okay, maybe it was the perfect moment.
They sat quietly, holding hands without speaking until after one final check, Heather was discharged. “Have her take one of the anti-inflammatories every six hours. Don’t let her skip one. They work best stacked,” Nurse Crabby said. “She needs rest. Have her family doctor check on that leg in a week.” She handed him a paper. “Read this. Watch for the signs mentioned and if you think anything is wrong, anything at all, take her to the nearest emergency department. The hospital will send her a bill.”
“I’m right here,” she grumbled.
They loaded her into a wheelchair and an orderly pushed her to the car. They spent three days in adjoining rooms in The Fairmont Pacific Rim Hotel in Vancouver. Zander pampered her every second. The meds made her sleepy and she spent more time asleep than awake.
Wednesday, she woke up feeling semi-human and almost refreshed. “Zander?” She knocked on the door between their rooms though it was ajar. “Are you there?”
“Sure am.” The door opened and he leaned against the jamb and smiled down at her. “You look better.”
“I feel better.”
“Excellent.” He leaned toward her; his gaze fixed on her mouth. “Good enough for a kiss?” he whispered.
“Definitely.” She braced herself on the doorframe and lifted up as best she could. She needed him close. Their lips brushed once, feather light. And again. And again. He stepped back.
“As much as I’d like to continue this line of action. I think it’s best left for after you are healed.”
She whimpered, just a little. “Okay.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned into him, savoring the solid feel of his body, and of his heart beating against hers. “How’s Tyson?” She asked the same question every morning.
“He’s good. He’ll be home in time for the celebration. Speaking of which .…” he stepped back and looked down at her, love filling his eyes.
“I have staff to organize,” she said. “I hope you’ll forgive me if I bail on your animal event. I don’t want to hang out in public with this face.” She waved at herself. “I think I’ll confine myself to the kitchen.”
“I thought so. I’ve hired a new veterinarian. I interviewed him online yesterday while you slept. He starts tomorrow. He’ll help with Homes for Hounds.”
“Thank you.” She leaned into him for another minute before dragging herself away to pack her few belongings.
Epilogue
Half of Heather wanted to hide inside the kitchen. Her bruises were horrendous. Her legs were black and blue, so were her arms. She had a string of seven stitches across her forehead and her entire face was purple fading to yellow. But she had said she’d work with Homes for Hounds, and she would.
They’d gotten home on Wednesday. She had hoped for some quiet time at home, but realistically, it wasn’t feasible. The festival started Thursday. She had a kitchen to organize and food to prep.
Their first stop after leaving the city was the inn. They pulled up out front, and Zander’s family had rushed out. Even Tyson hobbled out on his crutches. She buried her face in her hands. “I can’t do this. I look awful.”
Zander brushed his hand down her hair so softly she barely felt it. “Look at me, Heather.”
She peeked up at him. Having him see her wretched state wasn’t so awful. He’d been there from the start. But showing her bruises to the public was more than she could handle at that moment.
“You don’t look awful.” She gave him an “are you nuts,” look. “Okay, maybe you do. But it’s through no fault of your own. If anyone should feel bad, it’s me. I left you there. If I had stayed, we’d have been seated and you never would have been on those stairs to bump into Marv. You’d be uninjured.”
“Oh, Zander. This isn’t your fault. We fought. Everyone fights. I hate it and I don’t want to do it again, but I’m sure we will.” She paused. “What was I saying? Oh. Ya. Not your fault, not my fault. But I look terrible.”
