Authors: Donna Alward
She nodded, sniffling. “Yes.”
He said nothing more, just held her close for several minutes.
Finally Lily pulled away and looked up into his face. That steady, strong face that had seen so many things during the years. After wars and battles, she knew her past would seem trivial to him. “It seems silly,” she whispered, putting a hand against his chest, a flimsy barrier between them. “Look at you, and what you’ve been through. This is nothing compared to that.”
“Everyone has their own crosses to bear. Just because yours is different than mine doesn’t make it any less important. Or any less difficult. So are you going to tell me what happened? Was it divorce?”
It was a logical conclusion for him to make. “Oh, Noah, it was such a long time ago.”
He smiled then, a soft, indulgent curving of his lips. “And you call me stubborn.” He reached down and took her hand, tugging it until she followed him to a chair in the living room. And then he sat, pulling her down with him so she was on his lap, her skirts billowing out around them. Gingerly he settled his right shoulder against the plush upholstery and she wondered if his arm was paining him after the long day.
Carefully she leaned toward his left side, her hand circled his neck, and she looked down at him, memorizing each angle and tiny wrinkle. He was beautiful, she realized. Not just on the outside. Inside, too. Obstinate, and sometimes prickly, but that was just a cover.
It would be so easy to fall completely over the edge into love. But perhaps telling him the truth would be enough to put some space between them.
“When I was eighteen, I ran away to be married. His name was Curtis and we had been planning it for months. Just waiting for my birthday so I would be legal. He was in first year university and I was nearly finished high school.”
Noah didn’t ask questions, just kept his arm solidly around her, stroking her bare arm with his fingers. Sitting there, snuggled up in a chair, Lily felt secure and comforted. Noah wasn’t just a good-looking guy she was attracted to. Somehow they’d become friends over the past weeks. Somehow she’d found herself telling him things she hadn’t revealed to another living soul. And it felt good to finally tell
someone
about it. She looked into his eyes, the inky color of deep twilight, marveling at the change in her heart. She had never wanted anyone in Larch Valley to find out about her previous mistakes. But it was easier to reach into the past for explanations than to confess her present feelings.
“Curtis saved up his money. His family was a lot better off than we were and so he squirreled away funds to pay for the hotel and the plane tickets. My mom was a dressmaker. I already knew I could sew my own dress, so I bought the material on the sly and designed it.”
The hand on her arm stopped moving. “You designed it? The dress you had on? That’s amazing.”
“I was always drawing new ideas. I made most of my own clothes back then.” She realized she hadn’t designed anything
new in years, and missed the feeling of the pencil in her hand, the way the lines felt as images translated from her head to paper. She sighed. “I lost a lot of my dreams that day, Noah.”
She slid farther down on his lap. “We made it to Vegas. We even made it to the chapel. But when we got to the part about objections, the door opened. And there were Curtis’s parents, and my mom.”
“Oh, Lily.” Noah’s voice was soft in the darkness. “They stopped the wedding.”
“Legally we could have continued. I was eighteen, an adult. But Curtis’s parents, who’d always been good to me…” She swallowed, remembering how she’d felt small and ugly and worthless. “They made it very clear that I wasn’t the kind of girl that he should marry. Dating was one thing. I guess they’d never realized how serious we were. I was a nobody. And he was destined for bigger and better things than an unfortunate marriage.”
“And what did Curtis say?”
She laughed then, a bitter sound in the dark. “Our plan had been for him to finish school, go into business with his father as agreed. I was going to design, and open a little boutique. Funny how that plan evaporated once his father said if we went through with it he’d be cut off.”
“He walked away from you?”
“Without a second’s hesitation. Left with his parents and me standing at the altar, so to speak.”
“Then he didn’t love you.”
Lily’s heart seemed to sink to her feet. It hurt to hear him state the truth. What did she expect from Noah? Not love, certainly. He would leave, as Curtis had. He would do his duty. And she would be left behind again. No one had ever cared enough to stay. “Oh, I know. Believe me.”
“No man who ever loved you could ever walk away.”
And just like that her heart soared up, back into her chest again. What was it about Noah that made her feel special? Worth it? She’d never been worth the trouble before.
“What about your mother?”
His question drew her out of the sweetness of the moment. Lily’s answering laugh was bitter with cynicism. Her mother had been a real piece of work, too. For a woman so concerned with
feelings
, she had been astonishingly immune to Lily’s pain, even as Lily had left the chapel in tears. “Oh, my mom called them a bunch of snobs and then proceeded to tell me it was for the best. I had to endure hours of her saying how I’d been foolish and too young to put my life into one person when I had my whole life ahead of me, full of adventure. I didn’t want adventure.”
“And so your heart was broken and nobody cared.”
“Yes.” She whispered it.
“Now I know why you don’t like weddings.”
“I would never have said anything to Jen. I know it doesn’t make sense. They love each other and I’m happy for them. At the same time…Curtis said he loved me, too. And yet it was so easy for him to leave. I’m not sure I believe in love that lasts forever. At least not for me.”
She sat up slightly, looking down into his eyes. Now she wondered if Jasmine had somehow been right after all. How much time had she wasted, lamenting old dreams instead of finding new ones? When was the last time she’d let herself have an adventure? Instead she had settled for something else, an imitation of the dream she’d wanted. She had the home she’d always craved, but it felt empty. Look what happened when she finally let go of the rigid control she usually exerted over her life. She was on the brink of being hurt just as much this time as last, and it wasn’t worth it.
“My mom always said life was too short to fall in love only
once. She called me predictable and small-minded when I said I wanted something other than the life she had.”
“Is she happy?”
The question surprised her. Was Jasmine happy? She’d always insisted she was. She’d always seemed like this free spirit that lived in the moment, beautiful. Lovers had come and gone. Some of them had been good to Lily and she’d secretly hoped for a father, but that had never happened. But what about now? Lily didn’t know. Other than dutiful cards on birthdays and Christmas, she hadn’t spoken to her mother in many years.
And she felt ashamed that she had to answer, “I don’t know.”
Noah sighed, and Lily asked, “What about your mom? Did she seem happy to you?”
“No. She’s spent her whole life looking for happiness and never finding it. Not with my father and certainly not with her second husband. I’m not angry at her anymore. And yet, it’s hard to let go when people hurt us. When people we are supposed to be able to count on let us down. Even,” he added quietly, “when that person is yourself.”
He understood.
“She’s not a particularly strong woman, Lily.” His eyes were nearly black in the darkness of the room. “Not like you.”
No one had ever called her strong before. Reliable, sure. Ready to do a favor, yes. But no one had ever seen to the core of her the way Noah could. She’d tried to use her past as a barrier to their relationship, expecting him to back away. But instead he’d broken straight through it.
And while it was a relief to finally let down that guard, it was scary. Because Noah, like everyone else she’d cared about, would be leaving, too. What was the alternative? Marriage? She’d be a disaster as an army wife, left home alone while he was deployed. And what about children? How could she
subject children to life as army brats, moving from base to base, school to school, knowing how difficult it could be?
She pushed herself off his lap, wiping her fingers beneath her eyes. “I must look awful. I’m going to change. But help yourself to coffee.”
Before he could reply, she rushed to the stairs and up to her room.
Noah was not permanent. No more than Jasmine had been or Curtis had been. She had to remember that.
It was just as well that his recovery was well in hand and that there were only a few weeks left until she would be back to work.
Because wishes were pointless, and now that the wedding was over, it was time she started making a break. It would be best for everyone.
I
T HAD BEEN A LONG DAY
.
Noah had done the bulk of the chores himself, and it had taken him longer than he liked. Pixie had bumped his right side hard when he’d gone into her stall, and he still felt the ache in his shoulder. And on top of it all, it had been the middle of the night before he’d gotten to sleep. He simply hadn’t been firing on all cylinders today.
He’d lain there thinking of Lily, turning what she’d told him over and over in his head, thinking about her and the wedding, and about the army and Lazy L until it all blended together in his head. The result was he’d awakened even more confused.
What did Lily want from him? A friend? More than that? She had confided in him, and he’d encouraged it. He’d never done such a thing in his life. Dating had been a superficial way to put in time, to appease some of the loneliness and longing, but he’d never been in love. There hadn’t been time. He’d always kept things light. He’d been careful to keep it casual on both sides, not to create expectations he couldn’t fulfill.
But Lily was different.
Now, as he struggled to open a box of pasta, he scowled.
She had managed to get past the usual barriers. And last night…last night he’d come very close to forgetting about everything
but
her and how much he’d wanted her.
He ripped at the cardboard, resulting in a nasty paper cut. “Dammit!” He let go of the box, sticking his finger in his mouth, and the package dropped to the floor, scattering bits of rotini all over the kitchen.
He was in a mess, tired, angry, and unable to even put on a Band-Aid. Sometimes it truly felt like two steps forward and then one step back, never advancing as quickly as he wanted. Why did the simplest things have to be so difficult?
“Noah?”
Lily’s voice had him swinging toward the door. She stood on the other side of the screen, peering in. He took his finger out of his mouth and watery blood formed around the cut. He grabbed the tea towel from the counter to cover the finger.
“Hang on.” There was no time to clean up the mess. He shut off the burner and went to the door.
She wore jeans today, and a copper-colored T-shirt that clung to her curves. Beaded sandals were on her feet. She looked just as attractive this way as she had yesterday in her gown and pearls.
“Lily.” He pushed the door open, inviting her in. She stepped inside and reached into her purse.
“You forgot this last night,” she said quietly, holding out his tie. He stared at it, remembering how he’d slid it from around his neck as he’d pressed his body against hers.
“The formal wear shop will want it back with the tux.” Lily gave the tie a slight shake, drawing him out of the memory.
He reached out to take it, then realized he couldn’t. The last thing he should do was get blood on a white tie.
“What have you done?” Lily put the tie on a bookcase and
grabbed his hand. She pulled off the tea towel, looking at his finger. “You cut yourself.”
“It’s just a paper cut. That happens to be bleeding a lot.”
She bit down on her lip as she gripped his finger. “Where are your Band-Aids? I’ll put one on for you.”
“I’ll do it myself.” He pulled his hand away, feeling like a child. “The stuff I take to keep the swelling down makes my blood a little thinner, that’s all.”
He spun away, heading for the bathroom. He didn’t need her to do every little thing for him. Good lord, he could care for himself! He found the kit beneath the sink and flipped it open, using his teeth to tear a bandage from a perforated strip. He ripped it open—again using his teeth—and tried to wrap it around the finger.
The plastic wrinkled and stuck to itself. He reached for a replacement, ripping too hard and destroying another Band-Aid.
He swore, then leaned against the sink, breathing heavily.
Last night he’d felt like a normal man. Last night his decision had made sense, and he’d felt as if he could handle anything. And he’d known that a life behind a desk, stuck within four walls was not the kind of life for him. But today he couldn’t even put on a Band-Aid. Now Lily was here, looking as pretty as ever, and the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint her. She’d had too many disappointments.
What a mess. If he backed away now he knew how it would look to her. As though what she’d told him about her past made a difference. And to let things go forward would be a mistake. Where could they possibly go? He certainly couldn’t love her the way she wanted. The way she deserved.
“Noah?”
He spun around as her voice startled him, and smacked his injured arm spectacularly on the door frame.
White-hot pain radiated through his stump, nearly bringing
him to his knees as he caught his breath. Lily, the feminine, beautiful Lily, cursed in alarm as he started to slip, then slid beneath his left arm, bolstering his weight.
“Come sit down,” she said, urging him toward the dining area and pulling out a chair. He sank into it, closing his eyes and baring his teeth to keep from crying out. It wasn’t just the stub. It was his entire arm, right down to the fingertips that were no longer there.
Phantom pain. Now and again it struck, sometimes after a bump or for no particular reason at all. Today, when he was especially tired, it had been worse than usual, flashing off and on, tingling. But now it was a searing line that took his breath away.
“Oh, Noah. What can I do?” Lily’s panicked voice came from his right and he forced his eyes open. Her bright blue gaze was focused on his face, guilt on each delicate feature.
“It’s not your fault. It’s been a long day. And I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
Cold sweat beaded on his forehead. This was not how he wanted it. He wanted to keep this part of it hidden from her. The part of his injury that reduced him to a quivering mess. Most of the time he coped. But there were times it took him unawares, and all he could do was wait it out. Times when he was tired, or stressed, or if he simply overexerted himself. A frustration and a symptom to be expected, the doctors said. Listen to your body, they said.
If only it were that easy. Right now his body was screaming at him.
“Is there medication I can get you?”
He shook his head. The over-the-counter stuff was useless.
He looked up at her, recognizing the expression of helplessness on her face. Lord knew, he’d felt that way often enough when he’d seen his soldiers get wounded and had been unable to make it right. Speaking to them at the airfield
as they were being patched up. Or as they were being prepped for transport to Germany. He hated that the boot was on the other foot now.
Icy-hot daggers shot down his arm and he gritted his teeth. She had trusted him with the story of Curtis. Could he trust her, as well, to see the scar he bore?
“Can we ice it or something? There must be some way to help,” she insisted.
He caught his breath as the muscles spasmed in protest. At some point, someone was going to see his stump without its protective covering. As the muscles seized, he knew he needed to do something to help the pain, and that of anyone, Lily would be the most practical nurse.
“Heat relaxes the muscles. There’s a pack in the medicine cupboard.”
As she left to retrieve it, he tried to roll up his sleeve. But it had rained this morning and he’d put on a long-sleeved cotton shirt, making the chore even more challenging. When Lily came back, she put the pack on the floor and unpinned his cuff.
“Roll it up,” he said.
She tried, but there was too much fabric and the roll was too tight over the muscles that corded just below his shoulder.
“You’ve got to take it off,” she said.
The stabbing pain continued and he breathed through gritted teeth. “No.”
“Yes.” She went in front of him and began working the buttons.
“Lily, no,” he said weakly, as she slipped each button from its hole, unable to fight her beyond putting his left hand over her wrist, stopping her movements. He didn’t want her to see him this way. It was too ugly…. It would be a sight she would remember each time she looked at him. A man covered in ugly scars. Not the Noah who had danced with her in the dark.
But she pushed his hand away and kept on until the last button was undone and she spread the sides wide to ease it off his shoulders.
Then she saw.
And she cried out, the sound filled with the shock of the sight before her.
He knew what she was seeing right now. The angry red marks, the puckered scars of the cuts caused by the shrapnel. A beast.
“Oh, Noah…I didn’t know.” Her breath hitched with emotion. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want you to see,” he whispered, turning his head away.
Noah wasn’t a man who wept. He hadn’t cried in the hospital, or when he’d gone to his father’s grave site, or when he’d seen his mother for the first time in over two decades. But at this moment, he was unable to stop the tears from coming as Lily stood back, covering her mouth and staring at the vision before her. The tears formed, hot and bitter, sliding over his lower lashes when he blinked.
Lily gaped at the sight of his battered skin. My God, the pain he must have gone through. Not just the arm, but several red scars from his chest to his abdomen. She looked into his face. Noah was crying.
Crying
. The sight nearly undid her, seeing the pain and shame on his face. But he shouldn’t be ashamed. He had done nothing wrong, nothing to deserve the cuts that marred his body.
They did not define him. Not to her. To her they were medals, badges of his strength, his dedication, his sacrifice.
Lily sniffed, wiped at the tears on her cheeks, and saying nothing, stepped forward, easing him out of the shirt, taking it and laying it gently over another chair. Questions flooded her mind about what had really happened to him, questions she was afraid to ask amid the profound sympathy she felt,
not only for his injuries but because it was clear to her that the marks they left behind caused him a deeper pain that hadn’t yet begun to heal. Not all of his scars were on the outside, she realized. They had left their mark on his soul, as well. And that was something she could understand very well.
“What can I do to help you?”
He swallowed. Reached over and removed the shrinker covering the stump, revealing the entire wound to her eyes for the first time. She bit down on her lip at the sight, at the supreme trust that the gesture meant. She remembered dancing with him and his whispered words of wanting to be perfect for her. And he was, in many ways, naked before her now. His trust in her was the most humbling experience of her life.
“Just give me the pack,” he said, taking it from her hands. He anchored one side in his armpit, then wrapped it around, feeling the warmth seep into the muscles, relaxing them and easing the spasms.
She moved a chair closer to him, sitting on it. And then she covered his fingers with her own, holding the pack in place.
“I had no idea, Noah.” She said the words gently, needing to acknowledge what she’d seen and show him it didn’t matter.
“You weren’t supposed to,” he replied, his chin jutting out defiantly. “No one was.”
“Why?”
He turned his head and stared into her eyes, a mixture of pain and defiance in his gaze.
“Why do you think? It’s ugly. I’m a mess of scars and incisions. No one should have to look at me this way,” he said, turning his head away. “What woman would want a man like this?”
In that moment, Lily bled for him. He had always seemed so sure of himself. Yes, he’d had challenges, but he’d always been so determined to move forward. How could she have
missed it? Of course his self-image would have suffered. He’d done a good job of hiding it, but not tonight. Tonight she was seeing it all. And what she saw was a man not defined by his scars but by the strength of his heart.
“Did you think I would be repulsed?”
“Aren’t you?”
“Absolutely not.”
The words settled around them. Had she been shocked, seeing the extent of his wounds? Yes. It had been unexpected. But repulsed? Not in the least. Her only thought had been of the pain he must have endured.
Lily eased the pack off his stump. “What else can I do?”
Noah didn’t reply, so Lily stood, cupped his chin in her fingers and lifted it so he was looking into her face. Then she touched her forehead to his, closing her eyes. His body stiffened; she knew he was fighting her but she was determined to wait.
“What can I do, Noah?” Her voice was barely a whisper, but she heard him swallow. She framed his face with her hands, touching her lips to his, carefully, lightly. Trying not to cry. The time would come to cry later. Right now he was in pain. How long had he been toughing this out alone?
“Massage helps.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Lily went to his side and began kneading the muscles. The flesh was strong and firm beneath her fingers, and she marveled at the sight of the scar tissue and shape of the tip as she worked from his shoulder down his bicep. Noah closed his eyes and she felt the tension seep out of him as she pressed and kneaded gently.
Shadows fell in the room as the sun moved around toward the west side of the house. Lily’s hands slowed, moved beyond his right arm to the back of his neck, working the warm, smooth skin beneath her fingers. Touching him the way she’d wanted to for weeks now. Learning the shape of him,
the hardness of his body from the life he’d led. Flawed, but beautiful. She massaged his other shoulder, the one that now bore the brunt of all his daily tasks, and down his left arm until she was in front of him again. He stood up from his chair and reached for his shirt, holding it loosely in his fingers.
He would have put it on but Lily stayed his arm with her hand.
“Don’t. Not yet.”
She reached out a fingertip and touched each scar, each angry red ridge of tissue. She bit down on her lip as she explored, feeling a reverence she hadn’t expected. What sort of man suffered such an injury and returned so strong, so determined? Each scar made him more of a man in her eyes, not less. The love she’d felt before was nothing compared to the feeling swelling her heart right now.