Paradise Valley (Virgin River #7)(104)
He drove aimlessly for a while, wondering how that guy was an amputee and nobody had even known it. Or maybe some people had known, but not Rick, because he was in his own head all the time. It was the act of driving, the freedom of driving, that made him wonder about some things. Like, had he expected Jack to drive him everywhere for the rest of his life? One of the first things they taught him in PT was to have a bar installed in the bathroom, something to hang on to, steady himself. It was definitely time to do that now. He’d fallen twice and took a lot of baths sitting on the edge of the tub. He hated baths.
He didn’t expect to find Liz. He’d go to the store later tonight or tomorrow and find her, talk to her. Or, failing that, he’d either get Jack to drive him to Eureka or borrow Jack’s truck. He had no idea what he’d say, but…
But would he work? Go to school? Hunt? Fish?
She’d killed him with what she’d said. She wished she was dead?
He thought back, way back, to when she was lying in that bed at Doc’s, writhing in pain as she tried to give birth. He’d held her small, sweating body close to his chest, promising her he’d never let her go. They knew the baby was dead, but there were times during that nightmare that he remembered thinking that if he lost her as well, his life would never mean anything again. And back then he’d still been a little confused about whether he loved her enough to make a life with her, and yet he knew losing her would kill him. It was the same right now—he’d told her they couldn’t be together, but the thought of her dying ripped his heart out.
What had he done to her? And why was he kidding himself? He’d never stop loving her.
He found himself headed for the river and once there, he saw her car. He shook his head—he should’ve known. It was the last place they’d been together. He parked, swallowed his fear and got out. He used his cane, careful of rocks and holes, and made his way to the river’s edge. She was leaning back against a big boulder, half sitting, half standing. “Liz,” he said to her back.
She looked over her shoulder at him. “Go away,” she said.
He walked toward her. “Liz, I’m sorry.”
She looked back at the river. “Just go away. I refuse to fight with you. And I can outrun you.”
He laughed softly in spite of himself. “No kidding.” He went to stand in front of her. “I’m sorry, Liz. I am out of my mind.”
“So I noticed,” she said with a sniff. She turned away from him to swipe at her damp cheeks.
“I don’t want it to be this way,” he said. “Between us, I mean.”
She looked back at him. “Well, Rick, I have to admit, I don’t have a clue how you want it to be. You told me to go away and I tried. You made it real clear you didn’t love me anymore…. All those phone calls… I thought maybe…”
He gave her a second. “You thought what, Liz?”
She looked down and took a breath. “I thought after a while you’d start to think like your old self again and you’d appreciate it—that I never gave up on you. That I loved you no matter what.”
“I did, Liz. Appreciate it. I just thought you’d be wasting your life on someone like me.”
She stiffened slightly. “Because of your leg? Your stupid leg?”
“It went past the leg,” he said. “I thought that I brought bad luck. That a life with me would be full of bad experiences. I mean, you and me, we’ve had our share. You know?”
A huff of laughter escaped through her tears.
“What?” he asked.
“I thought it was me. I thought if it wasn’t for me, everything in your life would be all right.”
“Liz…”
“Well, didn’t I get pregnant right away? I had just barely gotten my period back then. And then I let our baby die. And then because that hurt you so bad, you went to the Marines….”
“Holy Jesus,” he said. He reached for her, his arms going around her waist, pulling her hard against him. “How could you think that? You didn’t make any of those things happen!”
She held on to him, putting her head against his shoulder. He felt her shrug. “As much as you did.”
“Holy God,” he muttered, “we are so screwed up.” He felt her arms tighten around him, holding him as she sobbed against his shoulder. He ran his hand down that wonderful silky hair. “Hey, hey,” he said softly. And it all came back to him, how it felt when he held her, comforted her. “Come on, baby, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he said. In the back of his mind he wondered why he wasn’t able to do this three months ago. It was so natural, so right. It felt so good to be the man.
“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you to hold me,” she said.
“I’ve held you before. Right here, in fact,” he reminded her.
She shook her head against his shoulder. “There wasn’t an ounce of love in that,” she said.
He pulled away from her a bit, lifting her chin with his thumb and finger. “Nothing like that’s ever going to happen between us again, Liz. I promise.”
“What is going to happen between us?” she asked softly. “Are you just trying to make me not mad at you, but then go back to that business that we can’t be together anymore?”
Robyn Carr's Books
- The Family Gathering (Sullivan's Crossing #3)
- Robyn Carr
- What We Find (Sullivan's Crossing, #1)
- My Kind of Christmas (Virgin River #20)
- Sunrise Point (Virgin River #19)
- Redwood Bend (Virgin River #18)
- Hidden Summit (Virgin River #17)
- Bring Me Home for Christmas (Virgin River #16)
- Harvest Moon (Virgin River #15)
- Wild Man Creek (Virgin River #14)