raw nerves. “I didn’t…I mean, I lost the baby. I miscarried. I didn’t-” Oh, God. “I
A dull red stain inched up his neck, but his expression only turned colder. And she realized she was botching it badly. Everything was coming out wrong.
She twisted her hands, then rubbed her palms on her thighs, searching for a way to explain. “I found out just after you left.”
“And you didn’t think I needed to know?”
The flat fury in his tone made her cringe. “Of course I did. I wanted to tell you right away. I was so happy and excited, and I wanted that baby so badly. But I wanted to tell you in person, to see your face when I broke the news.”
She had envisioned that romantic moment, had played it all out in her head. The music and candles. The tenderness in his sexy blue eyes. The joy.
“I thought you’d be coming back soon,” she whispered.
She searched his eyes, hoping for some sign of softness, but his hard face stayed unrelenting. And a sinking feeling filled her gut. He wasn’t going to make this easy-which was probably what she deserved.
“And then, when you called to tell me you’d gone to Alaska, I just…I felt abandoned, betrayed.” Crushed by the anger and hurt. Dazed that the man she had trusted had left her, and that her worst fear had finally come true.
She forced air into her lungs. “I started cramping after that. And I…”
She closed her eyes, remembering the panic and fear. She’d been nineteen years old and surrounded by strangers, more alone than she’d felt in her life.
She clutched her trembling hands together, then gestured, helpless to stem the old pain. “I didn’t know what to do. I drove to the hospital. They told me there wasn’t anything I
She shifted her gaze to the cave’s dark wall, her mind focused on the agony of the past. How she’d lain on that sagging plaid couch, scared and lonely, afraid to move, and desperately needing Cade.
“And then…I just started bleeding and it wouldn’t stop.” She pressed her fingers to her lips and closed her eyes until the horror passed, until the shocking visions receded. Then she fixed her gaze on Cade. “And I drove back to the hospital.”
“Alone?” A muscle twitched in his cheek.
“Yes, I…They admitted me, but I still lost the baby.” Her chest wadded up with remembered feelings, that soul-numbing pain and grief. The guilt that she’d done something wrong and had somehow been to blame.
And as she’d lain there in that hospital bed, her hopes and dreams crashing down, the harsh reality had sunk in. She wouldn’t have that cozy family. Cade wanted to smokejump more than he loved her. She was alone, abandoned, just as she’d always feared.
He worked his jaw. “And you didn’t call me.” It wasn’t a question. They both knew that she hadn’t. The base would have patched an emergency message through.
“I didn’t think…” She spread her hands. “I thought you wouldn’t want-”
“To come back when my wife was in the hospital?” He stared at her, his face etched with disbelief.
A tight ball formed in her chest. “I thought you’d rather stay on the fire.”
“Hell.” The muscles along his jaw tensed, and he curled his hand into a fist, looking angrier than she’d ever seen him. “You didn’t give me a goddamn chance.”
She couldn’t deny it. She had made assumptions, big ones. And she hadn’t let him decide. “You’re right,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”
His eyes narrowed in disgust, and then he turned and stalked to their bags. Despair spiraled through her as he hefted them up.
“Cade,” she pleaded.
He strode to the entry without answering, and in one furious movement yanked his fire shelter loose.
Stones fell and crashed around him, and the dog bolted to the back of the cave. Sunlight slanted through the rising dust, and he kicked the loose rocks aside. Then, without looking back, he twisted out of the opening and disappeared.
A sick, heavy feeling churned through her belly, and suddenly, like the pile of stones falling, the truth tumbled in on her, sucking the air from her lungs. She’d told herself he didn’t care, that he loved smokejumping more than her.
But it wasn’t true. He would have come home. He would have rushed to her side if she’d called him. He never would have ignored her needs, her pain, no matter how busy he’d been. He wasn’t that kind of man.
She raised her hand to her throat. Of course Cade would have come back, and he would have mourned with her, grieved with her, stayed with her, just as he’d helped her over the mountain.
A sense of foreboding slugged through her chest. Oh, God. What had she done?
Her nerves trembling, she snatched up the leash and squeezed through the crack in the rocks, pulling Dusty behind her. Once outside, she stopped and blinked in the startling brightness.
She raised her hand to shade her eyes and glanced around, stunned by the devastation. The fire had decimated the mountain, turning the once-green landscape into blackened wreckage. Smoke still simmered over the scorched earth, wafting and swirling through ashes. Charred trees bent at odd angles, like twisted silhouettes clawing the sky. Here and there, lingering flames crackled through burnt stumps and spewed out dying embers.
She breathed in the acrid stench, coughed, and blinked again. The sunshine seemed too bright in the ruined landscape, too stark. As if it were stripping away her pretenses and exposing the truth, revealing her insecurities and fears.
Her guilt.
Her breathing ragged, she scanned the hillside for Cade. She spotted him several yards away atop a charred knoll, staring down the mountain. His back was straight, his shoulders stiff, warning off any approach.
Or maybe he was grieving for the child he’d never known.
An awful tightness wrenched her throat, and she knew that she had to reach him. “Cade,” she said.
His shoulder jerked as if she’d struck him, and then he slowly turned to face her. His face was tight, his mouth flat, his eyes so distant she shivered. Anxiety climbed up her throat.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have assumed you wouldn’t come back. That wasn’t fair to you. And I should have told you about the baby.”
For several heartbeats, he didn’t speak. His gaze stayed on hers, frank and cold, as if he were weighing her words, measuring her sincerity. Her hopes plummeted even more.
Finally, he tilted his head. “You didn’t want me to come back, did you?”
“What?” Shock tightened her voice. “Of course I wanted you back. How can you even think that?”
He slowly shook his head, his eyes hard. “No, you were looking for an excuse to leave.”
Denials rose in her throat, along with a spurt of panic. “You’re wrong. I felt abandoned without you. I hated being alone.” And she’d dreaded a lifetime spent waiting.
“Then why didn’t you call?”
“I-” A sliver of doubt crept through her mind. Why hadn’t she called him? How had she misjudged his character so badly? Hadn’t she known her husband at all?
Dread piled in as she considered the implications and fought the conclusion sickening her gut. And then suddenly, she couldn’t avoid it any longer. The truth crashed into her mind.
Stricken, she sucked in her breath. “Oh, God. You’re right.” At least in a way. “I wanted you back, but only under my terms.” To fulfill her needs, her insecurities.
But he hadn’t played into that. He’d treated her like a woman, not a child. He’d expected her to cope when he was gone.
And she couldn’t handle that. She’d acted out the needs of her childhood, thrusting him into a role he didn’t deserve. Punishing him for the faults of her father. Ignoring the person he was.
And then when he didn’t play her game, she’d seized the excuse to flee.
And in the process, she’d destroyed something special, something unique, something she’d never find again. She’d taken the gift of this man’s love and tossed it away.
