“... Damn proud!”
... Don’t you know how proud of you I am?
There was nothing more you could have done.
Nothing more.
The shadow had long left him, and he only breathed... he only breathed... only breathed...
Sobbing in her sleep, Elizabeth clutched at Cutter’s sweat-soaked shirt, holding on to him as though to cleave him to her with that desperate gesture. She couldn’t let him slip away, too... couldn’t live without him. Her eyes flew open suddenly, to find that the fire had long died, and once again, pink shaded the sky above. Cutter’s eyes were closed, but his skin had cooled and his hair and clothes were soaked; a good sign.
Yet he was still. Too still.
The memory of Black Wolf lying so still in death besieged her suddenly, and despite herself, panic found a foothold. Closing her weary eyes in refusal, she began to hum, and when she realized what she was doing, her face contorted and she yielded at last to the convulsive sobs that shook her within.
“You can’t leave me,” she whispered, grief-stricken. “You can’t—I won’t let you,” she told him, grasping his sweat-soaked shirt firmly. With lips that trembled, she kissed his mouth, tasting the salt of her tears as they slipped onto his wind-chapped lips.
Cutter’s eyes opened, but Elizabeth didn’t notice. Her own eyes were closed, her lashes glistening with tears, as she pleaded with him, savored his lips. The sight of her bent over him, kissing him with so much tenderness, filled him with exhilaration.
He’d awakened earlier to find her sleeping fitfully atop him, but bushed as he was, he’d let her sleep on. And within minutes, he’d fallen back asleep himself.
“Who will help me raise Katie?” Elizabeth sobbed brokenly. “I can’t do it alone... I need you, Cutter,” she implored. “Come back to me... please. Katie deserves a father... I need a husband...” She gave a choked little laugh suddenly, burying her head against his throat, whispering a kiss there. “Can’t raise her out of wedlock, you know... What will people say?” she asked a little hysterically.
His Adam’s apple bobbed. Elizabeth must have felt it and stiffened.
His throat thick with emotion, Cutter whispered, “Shhh, bright eyes... don’t cry.” He reached out, touching a lock of her hair, fondling it reverently between his scarred fingers, assuring himself that she was real, that he hadn’t died and gone to heaven.
Startled by the sound of his voice, the unexpected touch of his hand, Elizabeth glanced up, tears shimmering in her eyes. A cry of relief broke from her lips. “Cutter?”
“You weren’t askin’ me to ride the river with you, were you, Doc?”
Confused, Elizabeth shook her head softly, repeating his words. “R-Ride the river?”
“Share a tepee,” he said with quiet emphasis.
“Share a tepee?” she echoed over the pounding beat of her heart. A joyous tear slipped over her lashes and slid down her cheek as she began to understand what it was that he was asking. “I-I don’t know how to swim,” she replied recklessly.
Like the day she’d first laid eyes upon him, his eyes were dark, insolent, teasing her even now. “Blind as a bat, too,” he remarked baldly, “and can’t shoot to save your life... but I’m willin’ t’ teach you the one... overlook the other.”
Seeing the flicker of amusement in his eyes, Elizabeth managed a choking laugh, hot tears slipping down her cheeks. Her fingers brushed reverently over his beard, her eyes growing dreamy, full of yearning. “I can shoot,” she whispered, “and I believe I see very clearly, too, Mr. McKenzie—does that mean you’re accepting?” She smiled tentatively, the beat of her heart stilling as she awaited his reply.
For a moment he studied her intently. “Depends,” he replied huskily, a weak smile tipping the sensuous corners of his mouth.
“On what?” she asked breathlessly.
His eyes grew openly amused, challenging her. “On whether you’re asking.”
Elizabeth stared at him, not quite believing what it was they were speaking of—that she was actually asking him to marry her. She was actually asking... She couldn’t stop herself. Nothing could have stopped her in that moment. She felt as brazen as she likely sounded.
For an instant his eyes turned sober as he reminded her, “Won’t be easy... being a half-breed’s wife. Be more like ridin’ the rapids.”
Elizabeth choked on an elated sob. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except for the fact that she loved Cutter McKenzie... wanted to spend her life with him... wanted to bear his children. “I... I believe I’m asking,” she murmured, half laughing, half crying. Hot, exultant tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Believe?”
“Am.”
A satisfied gleam came into Cutter’s eyes suddenly, and his husky whisper reached into her soul. “Then I reckon I’m acceptin’, Miz Bowcock.”
