Page 67 of Rawhide and Ransom

The strong lines and planes of his face grew pleading. “It took me too long to find out what had become of you. I didn’t know the truth until recently.” He sounded agonized. “I was told you’d been placed in foster care and then adopted. My mother made it sound like you were out of reach. Forever.”

“It’s not your fault.” She took another step. “None of this is your fault.” She’d never dreamed it would be so hard to deliver a simple thank you. She’d never dreamed he would feel the need to apologize to her first.

“None of this is your fault, either.” He beckoned her to join him on the porch.

Her heart quaked as she mounted the first step and then the second one. “I’ve always wanted to thank you for what you did for me all those years ago, but I didn’t know how to reach you. I didn’t know if you were even still alive. I asked everyone I came in contact with, which wasn’t all that many people, but nobody would tell me anything.”

“Yes, I lived to tell our tale.” He spread his hands expressively, crinkling the corners of his eyes at her.

She caught her breath. Three-year-old Edward Hardy had been the biggest heartthrob on the preschool playground, but thirty-five-year-old Edward Dakota was an entirely different story.

She reached the porch and stood in front of him. “I know thirty-two years is way too long to wait for a thank you, but I’m saying it, anyway. If you hadn’t thrown yourself in front of me to break my fall, I might not have survived it.” She’d lost her balance at the top of the slide and pitched head first over the side of it. Edward, who’d been standing below, had tried to catch her. Her weight had slammed into him, knocking him backward across the handlebars of a nearby tricycle. Afterward, he hadn’t moved again. He’d looked dead.

When she’d finally regained the breath that had been knocked out of her and screamed for help, no adult had come running. Not right away, at least. When their tipsy playground attendant had finally shown back up, a whole new kind of tempest had been unleashed, one she wasn’t sure any of them would ever fully recover from.

“I would do it again, Mirabelle.” Edward’s voice rang clearly across the short distance separating them. “In a heartbeat.”

She pressed a hand to her racing heart. “You mean you would try to save me?”

“Yes.”

“Even if it put you in that chair all over again?”

“Even if.” He extended a hand to her.

She was unable to resist taking the final few steps to reach back. “I don’t know what to say.” Emotions welled in her as she stood riveted, gazing down at their clasped hands. Big emotions. Emotions she’d never felt before. Emotions she couldn’t describe.

“You don’t have to say anything.” Amusement glittered in his eyes. “I hope you don’t mind me saying something, though.”

Her eyes widened as she waited.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“Wh-what?” Her knees wobbled and she might have fallen, but he leaned forward to scoop her up.

He set her in his lap, dangling her legs over the side of his wheelchair. “That’s more like it.”

She gave a shaky laugh. “I can’t believe you just picked me up.” Like she weighed nothing.

He shrugged like it was no big deal, even though it was. “That’s what best friends are for.”

She tried to fill her lungs with air, but failed. “I can barely breathe,” she admitted breathlessly, “and my heart is trying to pound its way out of me.”

“It’s just me, Mirabelle.”

“You’re a lot bigger than I remember.” She shifted nervously on his lap. “I hope I’m not hurting your legs.”

“As if!” He made a scoffing sound. “You don’t weigh more than a blade of grass.”

A gust of wind swept over the porch, making her shiver again.

He wrapped his arms around her. “It’s not as good as a jacket, but I hope this helps.”

“It does.” She burrowed closer, finally giving in to the temptation to tip her head against his shoulder. She rested a hand over his heart and was surprised to find it was beating as fast as her heart was. “Thanks for the hotel room and the money. I would’ve never made it without your help.”

“Yeah, you would’ve. One way or the other, God would’ve provided for you the same way He’s always provided for me.”

She squeezed her eyelids shut and asked the biggest question she’d been grappling with. “You mean you’re not bitter?” Though he had every reason to be, he sure didn’t sound like it.

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