“Silas,” she whispered, pushing her husband away from her without thinking, already searching for her rescuer with her eyes. Carlos stumbled back, one hand reaching for the arrow sticking out of his neck, the other blindly grasping in front of him, and she saw that he was going to fall. There was no stopping his momentum-he was going to fall into the hole in the floor.
“Uuuhuhh!” Carlos choked, blood running down to stain the collar of his white button down shirt, blooming on the front like a rose. He had one hand on the arrow and was trying to pull but the pain was clearly too much. He pawed the air with his other hand and managed to hook his fingers through the front of Jolee’s exposed bra again.
And she was falling.
His momentum became her own, and they were both going down together, falling into the darkness toward a roiling death. She heard thunder behind her, felt something hit the floor, but there was no time to turn. She could only see her husband’s wide, frightened eyes and the white skeleton of the muskrat bobbing below.
Then a big, thick arm had her around the waist and she was watching Carlos fall, not falling with him. Silas, who had seemed to fly down to catch her, had been on top of one of the machines behind them, making for an easy shot-and the thunder behind her had been him jumping to the floor.
She turned away from the splash, ten feet below, and Silas pulled her in close, squeezing her so hard she couldn’t breathe and didn’t care. He whirled her away from the vat of acid and they both heard Carlos screaming, finally finding his voice in spite of the arrow in his windpipe.
Silas glared down to see his brother dying and snarled, “Don’t worry, bro, it’s as safe as lemon juice.”
She was in too much pain to walk and he carried her to the end of the aisle toward the exit, his bow still strung over his shoulder.
“What took you so long?” she gasped, arms around his neck, drinking him in. He was scarred, his face ravaged by the fire, but she could still see the man he’d been, the man he still was, the strong jaw and clefted chin, the full lips, and the same beautiful dark eyes.
“I came as fast as I could.” He looked at her in the light of day as he carried her outside, fully exposed to her now. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
“Yes,” she replied, swallowing. “And yes.”
“I’m so sorry.” He pressed his forehead to hers and then kissed her cheek, looking down at her still zip-tied hands, her fingers bent.
“It’s okay.” She rested her cheek against his chest as he walked, carrying her easily in his arms, as if she weighed nothing at all. “You can take me home and fix me up and make it all better. You’ve done it before.”
“True enough.”
She felt his lips against the top of her head.
“How long were you there waiting to take the shot?” she asked as they walked past Carlos’s car, the trunk she’d ridden in still open. She wondered what he’d heard, how much he’d seen.
“Not long.” He slowed. “A few minutes.”
She lifted her face to look at him, tracing a scar from the corner of his mouth to his jaw.
“Did you hear me say it?”
He cleared his throat. “Say what?”
“I love you.” She watched his eyes fill with tears.
“I heard.” He blinked fast, his gaze drifting away and then back to her. “I just didn’t know if you meant it.”
“Oh I meant it.” She kissed him softly, marveling at the familiarity of his mouth, his arms around her. This was Silas, her Silas, unmasked. “I promise you, I meant every word.”
“I was coming home to tell you.” He smiled, hefting her in his arms. She knew what he meant.
“But I wasn’t there.”
He shook his head, his eyes grave. “No, you weren’t.”
“But you found me.”
“Yes, I did.” He nodded, a smile playing on his lips.
She wrapped her arms more tightly around his neck. “You can tell me now.”
“I love you,” he said, and she didn’t think she’d ever seen a brighter, more beautiful smile in her life.
“Good.” She snuggled up in his arms. “Now take me home so you can kiss it and make it all better.”
Silas started walking again, carrying her with him. “Yes ma’am.”
“Abe came by this morning.” Jolee greeted her husband with the news as he came in the door, shaking off the snow. It was a winter reminiscent of their very first in the cabin-three feet of snow outside and still falling. The world was blanketed in white silence.
“How in the hell did he get out here?” Silas yanked off his boots and set them aside. “It’s so deep I can barely make it in snowshoes.”
She shrugged, watching him dust the snow out of his dark hair. “He said the county finalized the paperwork. The judge’s decision is final, no more appeals.” Silas stopped, eyes wide. “Really?”
She nodded, smiling at the joyful look on his face, knowing now why Abe had stayed so long, wanting to tell Silas himself, but the snow and the lateness of the day finally chased him back home. They’d had a good, long talk, as always. Abe, she’d discovered, had been a good friend of her father’s. She was only one-quarter Chippewa herself, but her father had been half, and it was Abe, she discovered, who had left the note in her mailbox, her father’s friend, who had come out to the cabin to check on her at night when Silas was gone, leaving his footprints in the snow.
After the discovery and identification of Carlos’s body, the Chippewa Indians had come forward with the information Silas had given them. Abe, working as a spokesman, had revealed her dead husband’s crimes to the world. Then they’d discovered the most shocking news of all.
Carlos had never changed his will-Jolee was the sole heir to his money and businesses.
“That’s the best news I’ve heard all day!” Silas exclaimed, coming forward to kneel in front of her chair by the fire. He put his wet head in her lap and she stroked his hair, smiling.
They had both agreed, almost simultaneously, when they’d heard the news about the will, and Jolee stepped forward to claim it. Of course Carlos’ partners had contested the will, but in the end, the will was upheld. After three years of appeals, the mining and logging businesses had been ordered to be liquidated, the land donated to the Indian Reservation for restoration.
“Well, you might want to hear my other news before you make that call.” Jolee smiled.
“Oh?” Silas lifted his head, raising an eyebrow.
“My water broke.” She opened her legs to reveal the towel she was sitting on under her t-shirt.
His eyes widened, his jaw dropped and she almost laughed out loud. “What?”
“You ready to have a baby?”
“In a snowstorm?” He gulped. “We can’t get to a hospital.”
“Who needs a hospital?” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Would you rather have a baby in the truck stuck in the snow or here in our own nice, warm bed?”
“Home.” He smiled, recognizing their “would you rather?” game. “But Jolee, are you sure-?”
She rolled her eyes, feeling the baby stir, knowing another contraction would come soon.
They were coming more steadily now. She wasn’t worried. It was all going to be okay.
“Would you rather kiss me or keep talking?”
Silas hesitated and then pressed his lips to hers, giving her the only answer that had ever really mattered.