Under the Northern Lights(78)

We clutched each other for long moments before we separated, and joyful tears were in my eyes when we did. Michael brushed them away with his thumb, then kissed my eyelids. His beard tickled my face, and I giggled as I tugged on it. “We’re going to have to cut this soon.”

Michael laughed and ran a hand through it. “Yeah, I figured I’d just shave it off, since I don’t need it here.”

A lump suddenly appeared in my throat. “Does that mean you’re not going back?” You’re not going to run away on me?

Smiling softly, Michael ran his fingers along my cheek. “I might go up there to hunt on occasion, but only if you come with me. I don’t want to be somewhere you’re not.”

Grinning, I leaned up to kiss him. “Good. I was kind of hoping you’d keep the cabin as a getaway. I’d love to pick up photography again, and it’s the perfect spot for my annual trip. Or maybe it could be a semiannual trip now.”

Michael’s face was serene as he looked at me. “However often you like, Mallory.”

He pulled me over so my head was lying on his chest, and I reveled in the steady thump of his heart under my ear. “For a long time when I got back . . . I never thought I’d get to feel this again. Feel you again.” Propping myself up on my elbows, I looked up at his face. “So are you really going to be okay living here most of the year? Are you really ready to give humanity another chance?”

His lips pursed in thought. “I might have been . . . too unforgiving.” He briefly closed his eyes, and when he reopened them, they were filled with regret. “Do you remember the story I told you? About the way my wife died?”

Confused, I bunched my brows. “Yes.”

“Well, I realized . . . when I let you walk away, I was doing the same thing as all those people who’d refused to help my wife . . . refused to get involved. I’d walked away, leaving a woman to bleed out alone. Only in this case, I was the one who’d made the lethal cut too.” He sighed, then shook his head. “I hurt you, then refused to change out of pride, stubbornness . . . fear. I’ve decided to give the world another chance . . . for you.”

I was touched by his willingness to change, but a little scared too. “It won’t be perfect. And if you expect it to be, you’ll be let down. Because people are just what you said they were—crazy.”

He gave me a carefree smile. “I know, but I have faith it will turn out okay in the end.”

I blinked in surprise. “Really? You have faith?”

Michael laughed, then nodded. “You crash-landed in my backyard. And survived. And cared for me, a loner in the woods. You pulled me back to civilization . . . restored my hope in humanity. What else could I have but faith?”

His finger traced my necklace, a peaceful smile on his lips. I leaned over to kiss him, happy that he finally felt that peace—that he was finally healing from the senseless tragedy that had ripped his life apart.

Our tender kiss lingered for long seconds; then a thought popped into my mind. Pulling back, I asked, “Did you get any of my letters?”

Biting his lip, he nodded. “On my way out of town.”

I tilted my head. “On your way . . . out . . . of town?”

His grin grew. “Yeah, I was already on my way to you. I was already done missing you. I read them all on the plane, Mallory, and every word . . . meant so much to me. It helped me . . . get through the chaos of so many people suddenly around me. Thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome. It took me far too long to think of that way to contact you.” Thinking of something else, I sheepishly asked, “Did you . . . get anything else?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You mean a letter from my dad? Yeah, several of them. And a package containing a lot of cash, along with a note telling me that I’d regret it for the rest of my life if I let you get away. I guess you made quite an impression on him.”

I couldn’t help but cringe. “I’m sorry. I know you didn’t want me to contact him, but I had to let him know you were okay. I knew how hard it was . . . to not know.”

He stroked my cheek, alleviating my guilt. “It’s all right, Mallory. I’m glad you called him. And his letters . . . they touched me too. In fact, second thing tomorrow, I think I’ll give him a call. Let him know . . . I’m home.”

My cheeks flushed at hearing him call Cedar Creek home, but something he’d said was tugging at my curiosity. “The second thing you’re going to do tomorrow? What’s the first thing?”

Pulling me all the way on top of him, he crooked a smile. “For the first thing . . . I’d really like to do that again with you.”

Giggling, I kissed him. “I think that can be arranged.” All day, every day . . . wherever Michael was, that was where I wanted to be too. We were meant to be, destiny. My prayers had been answered: I’d not only survived a seemingly hopeless situation, but I’d saved someone else from his own hopeless situation. I’d met my soul mate—then I’d been allowed to keep him. In this crazy, messed-up, beautiful world, Michael and I were being given our happily ever after, and we would never take that miracle for granted.





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First off, I want to thank everyone who took a chance and picked up this book. I am so in love with this story! My heart bleeds for these characters, and I’m sure yours will too. Thank you so much for being a part of their journey.