Page 62 of Colton in the Wild
“It’s so peaceful here,” she murmured. Then, with a look at him and a squeeze of her fingers around his, she quickly added, “Not that I mind your folks. They’ve been wonderful, taking such good care of me, but…”
“They hover. And fuss,” he said, his mouth quirking upward at one corner.
She gave him a relieved smile. “Yes. It’s a bit overwhelming sometimes.”
“You need this kind of peace.”
“I never realized how good it could feel to just…be. To just sit like this and soak it all in.”
He had to steady himself before he took the plunge. “So…why don’t you stay?”
That stopped her. She’d stared at him a long, silent moment, during which he held his breath, waiting.
“Stay?”
“Here. Where you can have this all the time.” When she just kept staring at him, he felt a burst of panic. And turned to the cover he’d used for a lifetime: joking. “I promise not to fuss.”
She finally spoke. “Careful, boyo, or you’ll wind up with a permanent roommate.”
There was no denying the emotion in her voice, even for him, who had a bit left to learn about female emotions. But he risked giving his gut-level response to those glorious words anyway, because, in this moment, the rest of his life seemed to depend on it.
“Exactly,” he said.
Chapter 33
Spence handed Hetty the glass he’d poured for her before he sat down beside her on the back deck. Then he held up his own glass full of the sparkling champagne for a toast.
“Here’s to progress,” he said.
She grinned at him as she clinked her glass against his, and he had the thought that he’d never seen so many smiles from Hetty Amos as he had since she’d essentially moved in here. He took a certain pride in that, even as he was aware that sometimes his face ached from all the unaccustomed smiling he himself was doing all the time.
But her glee today was because she was off not only the loathed crutches, but all pain medications, which would allow her to fly again. Hence the champagne celebration.
The sun was dropping, setting as much as it ever did here this time of year. But soon it would be below the tops of the old, tall trees and they would have at least the appearance of deep twilight, especially with no moon present. He liked the look of it, from this spot.
They sat in silence for a while, soaking up the quiet as they sipped at the bubbly he’d picked up while she’d been in her rehab session. It had been a little embarrassing when the clerk, the rather nosy wife of one of the local town council members, had teased him about having something romantic to celebrate, but he’d just smiled and let her think whatever she’d wanted.
Because it’s true.
And the fact that he was drinking this with Hetty still made his pulse rate kick up a notch. He’d been so convinced it would never happen, and if it had taken a near tragedy to do it, then so be it. She’d survived, there’d been no further attacks, and the circumstances had forced them to face what they’d hidden all these years. What was now a living, growing thing between them.
Spence could practically feel the energy radiating from her as she sipped her champagne. She was recovering rapidly now, and he knew she was chomping at the bit to get back in the air. So he made sure he was watching her face when he gave her the last bit of news.
“The replacement glass came in.”
She lit up, just as he’d expected. “Finally!”
He shrugged. “Alaska. Nothing gets here fast.” Especially not commonly needed airplane parts.
“How long will it take Chuck to—”
“He promised he’d have it installed by this afternoon,” he interrupted with a grin.
Hetty let out a whoop. “Then all I need is the doctor’s okay.”
He clinked his glass against hers again. “Then we’ll take it for a ride, just to do it.”
“Yes,” she said, lingering on the word in a way that warmed him. And he liked even more that she didn’t question the “we” part of his statement. Like she assumed, of course they would do it together.
