Touch the Heavens (24 page)

Chris gasped with pleasure as she felt his hand sliding down her long torso, coming to rest on her silken triangle before parting her thighs. A sigh of delirious desire escaped her lips as she responded to the touch of his hand, her fingers sinking deeply into his shoulders. “Please...” she said, sobbing, “love me, Dan...love me...please....” Raising her hips, she met his deeply plunging thrust, a cry of joy on her parted lips. The insatiable need to be one with Dan was a driving, throbbing force. She had nearly died. She had nearly lost him and he had saved her life. Each movement together, each rhythmic dance they performed to the other’s silent command brought her higher and higher into the glory of a euphoria she had never before entered. Her heart threatened to explode with a fierce and boundless love for Dan. Her body became a molten volcano unleashing a reservoir of pleasure, pleasure that took her breath away
.
I
love you
, she cried silently.
I
love you over life and above death
,
Dan.
I’ll love you forever....

Chris collapsed against him, gasping and spent by the avalanche of love and pleasure she had never known until then. Dan drew her close, rolling on his side, bringing her next to him. Gently he tamed the damp tendrils from her cheek and brow, kissing away the light film of perspiration. She clung mutely to him, aware of the solid drumlike beat of his heart in his magnificent chest. Was there anything unstable about Dan McCord? Nothing. Nothing except her and her explosive emotionalism. Chris nuzzled beneath his chin, needing Dan’s embrace badly. “Hold me,” she begged softly, on the edge of tears.

“Forever,” he said huskily next to her ear. “Forever and one day after that, Chris.”

“Promise?”

Dan closed his eyes. “Promise, my beautiful, brave love.”

The rooster crowing in the background slowly pulled Chris out of her rapture. She inhaled Dan’s masculine scent, a heady aphrodisiac to her sensitive nostrils. The dampened hair on his chest became her pillow as she rested contentedly on him. “It was beautiful,” she confided a long time afterward in a hushed voice.

“The best,” he agreed quietly, stroking her hair. “But then, we love each other. And when you share a love like ours, its bound to be good.”

Chris smiled softly. “Not only are you a warrior, but you’re also a romantic, Dan McCord.”

“Just another little extra you get by marrying me,” he reminded her.

Her heart stopped momentarily and she tensed. Dan stopped making lazy circles on her naked back with his hand.

“You are going to marry me, you know,” he said, his voice becoming more firm and less teasing.

Chris didn’t answer, the same old quandary of feelings rushing upward, dashing her happiness, tearing the gauzy screen of love to shreds before the blackness that met her eyes. “We’ll see,” she mouthed in a whisper.

Dan deposited her beside him, raising himself up on one elbow. “No, you don’t,” he warned. “That’s one promise to me you’ll keep, Chris.”

Her lips drew into a petulant line, indicating her fear. “Have you forgotten about this?” she demanded, pointing at her bandages. Her voice dropped to an aching whisper. “I worry about being just another burden on you. I mean, your job in the Air Force is so demanding that I—”

Dan’s face grew tense as he observed the parade of negative emotions crossing her lovely face. “If you think your reasoning will scare me off, you’re mistaken. And frankly, I don’t give a damn what the Air Force thinks. They pay me to provide certain professional services. They don’t run my private life. And I’ll make sure we have the necessary time with each other.”

Chris put her hands over her eyes, fighting back a sob. “Oh, Dan! I’m so scared! I’m—”

“Ssh,” he commanded, gently pulling her hands away from her eyes. “You can be scared, frightened silly, depressed or whatever you feel around me, Raven. Just don’t shut me out from those feelings. Let me share your pain and fear. That’s why I’m here. Listen to me,” he coaxed, holding her tightly. “What you give me in the way of emotional nurturing, of love, care and unselfishness is one of a kind, honey. And whether you get your eyesight back or—” he choked back his own tears “—if you end up blind for life, it doesn’t stop you from feeling with your heart and soul, Chris. We just made the most wonderful love either of us has ever experienced. Did darkness stop you from sensing, feeling, knowing that I love you? No. And it never will.”

Chris clung to him, her emotions still raw. Dan’s strength for both of them lay in his firm convictions. The trembling note she heard in his husky voice only served to heighten the knowledge that he did love her, regardless. Reaching upward, she placed her fingers on his bearded, stubbled face, feeling the wetness of his tears. “I believe you,” she whispered achingly. “And from now on, I’ll share everything with you, darling.” She choked back another sob. “It won’t be pleasant.”

Dan nuzzled her cheek, kissing her fiercely. “You’re worth it,” he said, his voice shaking with emotion.

12

“Y
OU ABOUT READY?”
Dan called, poking his head into the bedroom.

Chris groped for her belt, which Dan had placed earlier on the left side of the bed. “Yes...just a moment.” There. Her fingers wrapped around the slender leather belt, and she fumbled to slip it through the loopholes on the jeans. Had nine days gone by? It had started to pass quickly since that early-morning confrontation on the back porch with Dan. And every day since then had been filled with moments of agony and moments of rapture. For the first time in her life Chris found that confiding her fears and worries to someone else relieved her of the load she had carried constantly. She heard Dan approaching and turned.

“I’m not too swift with this belt,” she apologized.

Dan grinned, taking her into his arms, placing a tender kiss on her parted lips. “Want some help? I’d rather undress you anyway....”

Chris grinned, smacking at his hand as he tugged playfully at the belt. “Dan McCord!”

He laughed gently, drawing her back into his arms, nuzzling her slender neck with a series of small kisses. “I love you, Raven,” he murmured. Her laughter was clear as she swung her arms up, finding his shoulders and then pressing herself against him.

“You’re impossible.”

“Does that still mean you love me?” he demanded, growling.

Chris became more serious. “I never realized how much love could make you feel like you could beat the world,” she confided softly, becoming serious. It had proved impossible to put into words how much Dan’s support had given her the courage to fight back despite the threat of blindness. She was learning to cope. Chris had insisted on learning the layout of the house and each of the rooms. Counting steps to and from the barn, she asked Dan to teach her to saddle and bridle the horse she rode each day. With Howard and Melvina’s loving encouragement, she discovered the blindness was less of a threat to her independence, realizing that she wasn’t a burden to the people who cared.

Dan gazed down at her thoughtful features. “Love can challenge the very depths of hell,” he returned, “and win. It brought you back, and look how much progress you’ve made in nine short days. I’m proud of you, Chris. Everyone is.”

She felt the heat of a blush sweeping into her face and gave a shy laugh, breaking free of his grip. “I get maudlin often enough as it is,” she muttered, finally buckling the belt.

Dan smiled benignly. “It becomes you, believe me.”

Chris shrugged, embarrassed. “After bottling up all my emotions for years, suddenly just letting go is hard,” she admitted. Reaching out, she sought contact with him. “But you’ve made it easy.”

He leaned over, kissing her soundly. “That’s because I love you. And I don’t mind you getting maudlin on me.” A grin edged his mouth. “Come on, I’m starved, and we have at least an hour’s ride to the creek.”

“Lead the way, Major,” Chris urged, caught up in his infectious mood of happiness.

As always, the small gray quarter-horse mare that Chris rode automatically stayed close to Dan’s black gelding as they traversed the flat grasslands. The sun was high and hot, the temperature hovering in the nineties. Dan looked over at Chris, mesmerized by her natural beauty. She had disdained a cowboy hat, her black hair shining with a bluish sheen in the strong sunlight. Her skin was a healthy golden color now, the pallor chased away by the fact that she had been outdoors and close to nature for the past week.

He admired the movement of her body as she rode the gray mare: most beginners never picked up the natural rhythm of a horse’s gait, but she had. That same sureness of guiding the mare was there as it had been when she piloted the mighty Phantom. Whether she had the firm grip of a stick of a jet in her hands or the reins of a horse—Chris exuded confidence. And it was that confidence and courage that had helped her come to terms with the blindness.

“Come on,” he urged, “there’s a nice two mile straightaway ahead. Let’s gallop the horses.”

Chris turned her head toward Dan’s voice, smiling. “Okay, let’s!”

Dan squeezed the gelding with his calves, the animal immediately breaking into a long, loping stride. Dan was careful to watch for any holes or debris that might be in the path of the gray mare, acting as her eyes.

Chris’s hair flew back across her proudly drawn shoulders, her head held high, face to the wind. Her body slid effortlessly into the three-beat rhythm of the mare, her legs firmly clamped along the horse’s barrel, flowing into each movement. The staccato of hooves hitting the dry, hard Texas soil became a repetitive drumbeat to Chris. Her spirits rose skyward as she felt as one with the quarter mare, enjoying each swinging, graceful stride. There was a beauty in being in sync with an animal or aircraft. She heard the soft snort of each exhaled breath of the mare, smelled the sweat, felt the dampness of the skin, the flick of the coarse mane as it whipped across her hand holding the reins. Suddenly Chris realized that although her sight had been taken from her, she still had her senses of smell, taste, touch and hearing. It was a joyful revelation, enabling her to put her blindness into even better perspective than before. Inwardly Chris thanked Dan for his idea of galloping the horses. It had been the first time that he had allowed her that freedom, and she loved him fiercely for his courage. There weren’t many things she couldn’t do, she realized.

After the exhilarating gallop, they arrived at the stream bordered by cottonwoods fifteen minutes earlier than expected. Chris helped to spread the tablecloth and retrieved the chicken sandwiches from the leather saddlebags while Dan hobbled the horses. The air was alive with sounds she had never been aware of before. She had always prided herself on her acute hearing, but now it was even sharper. She could distinguish between the chirp of a cricket, a katydid and the humming of a honeybee. Smiling to herself, Chris pulled the wine from the plastic bag Dan had wrapped it in. It was cool to her touch, and she ran her fingers along the sweating surface, enjoying the sensation. She heard Dan approach.

“I wish we could go swimming,” she lamented.

Dan knelt down beside her, taking the bottle from her hands. “We can.”

“Really? I thought this was only a stream?”

‘‘No, it empties into a small lake on the other side of this hill.” He popped the cork, placing a plastic glass in her hands. “How about if we eat, rest awhile afterward and then take a swim?”

Chris lifted the plastic glass to her lips, tasting the full-bodied sweetness of what must have been a white wine. “Sounds great. Hey, is this a Moselle by any chance?” She sniffed the bouquet, allowing the aroma to touch her senses.

Dan looked up, smiling. “Right on the money.”

The afternoon lulled time to a peaceful halt. It was nearly four when she awoke from a small nap in Dan’s arms. A feeling of joy enveloped her heart as she snuggled close to him for a moment before sitting up. The lowing of cattle was now present, and she cocked her head in the direction of that new sound.

“I thought Howard said all the cattle were on the southern range?” she said, reaching out and touching Dan’s arm as he sat up.

Dan ran his fingers through his hair, glancing over at the hill across the stream. “There’s about twenty Hereford cows on the rise. Looks like we’ll have some company when we swim. Do you mind?”

Chris yawned, putting her hand across her mouth. The gauze bandage that held the protective pads against each of her eyes had loosened during her nap. She had a wild urge to tear them off, hating the band around her head. One more day...tomorrow morning Dr. Chen would unwrap the gauze and—

“You’re nose-diving,” Dan murmured, reaching out and caressing her chin.

“I’m sorry,” she stumbled. “I was just thinking of tomorrow and...”

“Everything will turn out okay,” Dan reassured her, getting to his feet and pulling her upright. He held her lightly in his arms, the afternoon too hot to promote closeness. “We’ll drive in early tomorrow in time for the 10:00 a.m. appointment.”

Chris frowned. “And then?”

“One way or another you’re flying back with me to Edwards.”

Relief washed through her at that thought. “Good, because I don’t want to be stuck alone in a hospital, Dan. Especially if—if I’m blind. I couldn’t take it. I need—”

He leaned down, claiming her lips in a gentle kiss meant to reassure her and neutralize the fear he heard in her voice. “Raven, you’re not going to be left alone. Ever. Just know that. I’ll always be here. And by tomorrow afternoon, you’ll be flying in that T-38 with me.” His blue eyes darkened with love as he surveyed her upturned face. “Besides, I know Karen Barber, Mark and a whole lot of other people will want to visit you. Hell, the first day you were in the hospital recuperating at Carswell I must have handled at least twenty different phone calls from people who were concerned about you.” He gave her a squeeze. “So you see, you have plenty of friends waiting for you back at Edwards.”

Chris sobered even more. “And Brodie? You haven’t said anything about him, Dan.”

He reached up, coaxing several black strands of hair behind her small, delicate ear. “You’re right,” he admitted. “But only because you didn’t need to be bothered by those details while you were healing.”