This was what he loved about her, that even when things could’ve been dark and somber, she found ways to play with him. The serious girl she’d been when they first started talking was gone forever.
He leaned against her trailer, breathless and grinning. “The nine-second thing?”
“Yeah.” She winced and lifted his hat enough to see the bandage. “Maybe eight’s enough after all.”
“That’ll teach me to listen to you.” He adjusted the brim again. “Does that mean you were there?”
“Mama and I watched it from the press seats.” She angled her head, her eyes full of admiration. “You deserved the win, Cody. You were brilliant tonight.”
“Thanks.” He gave a quick look over his shoulder, making sure the fans hadn’t followed him. He’d been waiting all day for this time with Ali. He led her toward the chairs. “Let’s move to the other side; it’s quiet there.”
They each grabbed a chair and set them up between her trailer and the trees. Her mother’s room was on the opposite end, so there was no danger they’d wake her. Before they sat down, he turned to her and felt his smile fade. “I’m sorry about earlier. You…” He looked down for a minute, the frustration back in full force. “You deserved it, Ali. What happened was wrong.”
“I’ve thought about it.” Her voice was clear and sweet, quiet against the night breeze. “It was my own fault. I tried to cut the last corner.”
He looked up and met her eyes, and there in the moonlight he could see to the very center of her soul. “You have to come back, try again, okay?”
She swallowed, hesitant. “I will.”
Something in the air between them changed. He was more aware of her than ever before. They were inches from each other, hidden in a place where no one could see them. “I wanted you to win, Ali.” He looked down at her, his words a whisper. “You have no idea how much I wanted it for you.”
She nodded. “Me, too.” Her eyes held his, and this time he could see the sorrow, the depth of the loss and all it had meant to her.
Since he got there, he’d wanted to take her in his arms. And now he couldn’t wait another moment. “Ali… don’t give up.” He put his hands on her shoulders and then pulled her in, folding his arms around her, holding her close.
In the past they’d been careful with the line between friendship and something more. In Cody’s mind, the line was a wall, solid stone and ten feet high. A hug like this one would be over as soon as it started.
But neither of them was letting go.
Seconds passed, and the feel of her body against his shot a fire through him, a fire that was way beyond his control. This was territory they hadn’t explored, and the dangers were there for both of them. Still, he couldn’t let go of her, couldn’t find the strength to pull away.
“All my life I’ve wanted that title.” Her body trembled, her arms still tight around his waist. She pulled back enough to see his eyes. Her chest rose with every breath, and a mix of fear and desire filled her eyes. “But you know what?”
“What?” He could feel himself drawing her closer.
“I want this more.”
“Ali…” What were they doing? They’d agreed things wouldn’t go this way, not ever. But then why was he helpless to stop it? He ran his fingertips along her brow, her cheekbone. He inhaled, shallow and ragged. “This is when you’re supposed to ask me.”
Her eyes melted into his, and she brought her hands up alongside his face. “Ask you what?”
“Whether I’m chasing you.” His knees were weak. He wanted to kiss her; he couldn’t hold out much longer. His mind bounced between walking away, telling her good night and forgetting they’d ever come even this close—or giving in to his desire.
“Except”—her voice was breathy—“guess what?”
“What?” Cody swallowed, trying to believe she was really in his arms. He couldn’t take his eyes from her. She was so beautiful, inside and out, more beautiful than anyone he’d ever known.
“It’s okay.” She lifted her face to his. Lilacs grew among the trees that lined their trailer space, and the late-night air was sweet with the smell of them. Then without waiting, she drew him closer and kissed him. It was a soft kiss colored with question marks, framed in uncertainty. The kiss of sweet inexperience and uncontrollable desire. “It’s okay.” She drew back, her eyes dark. “Because you already caught me.”
Her kiss was still fresh on his lips, but this time he took the lead. Slow and deliberate, he shaded her with the brim of his hat and brought his lips to hers. He let the kiss build, guiding her, showing her the way until she was as involved in the moment as he was.
A minute passed before she started to squirm and then in a rush, she pulled back, her breathing fast and uneven. “Cody…” She stared at him, eyes wide, frightened. “I’m sorry. I can’t…”
“It’s all right, Ali.” He moved closer.
“No.” She spun around and took three steps toward the trees. “I didn’t mean it.” Her ponytail was loose; strands of blonde hair spilling onto her red sweater. She turned and faced him. “I didn’t mean it, Cody. I don’t want to be caught.”
“Ali…”
“I don’t.” Her voice was louder than it should’ve been. She paced a few steps in each direction and then found his eyes again. “That…” She waved her hand in the air. “The way that felt… it scares me to death.”
Cody hesitated. “Why?” This was the reason he hadn’t crossed the line before tonight. He could handle being just her friend. But he couldn’t stand her being afraid, upset.
Tears filled her eyes and she shook her head. “You don’t understand.”
“Yes, I do.” He closed the distance between them. “You never wanted to need me, right?” His words were quiet, calm. “That’s it, right, Ali?”
“No.” She hung her head, the fight gone from her voice. “We’ll both lose, Cody.” She looked up. “If we let this happen, we both lose.”
“You’re wrong.” He was closer now. “We both win.” He wove his fingers into her hair and eased the band from her ponytail. Her hair fell loose around her shoulders, and with the slightest pressure from his fingers, he pulled her to him once more.
“Be my friend.” She pressed her head to his chest, keeping a fraction of an inch between them, and at the same time clutching at his back, her heart and mind at odds.
“I will, Ali.” He crooked his finger, placed it beneath her chin and lifted her face to his. “After tonight, okay?”
That was all he needed to say. Going against everything she was asking of him, she kissed him again. Long and with an intensity that hadn’t been there before. When she came up for air, she searched his eyes and the understanding was clear.
They would have this night, this single time to pretend they could be more than friends, to believe that she wasn’t sick and he wasn’t determined to remain a loner. Cody leaned against the fence, the tree branches creating an alcove that belonged to them alone. Cicadas played softly in the distance, and a ribbon of cool air mixed in the breeze. He drew her close and for the sweetest hour they kissed and whispered and held each other, allowing the intensity between them to build until Cody couldn’t take another minute.
“Ali…” He stepped around her and flopped into one of the canvas chairs a few feet away. He stared at the sky, his body burning with an intensity he’d never known before. A long exhale came from him and he chuckled, trying to cool off. Did she have any idea how she made him feel? “I have to go.”
She looked at the ground, her expression shy and a little embarrassed. “I know… it’s late.”
His body screamed to return to her, but he had to get back. If he didn’t stop now, if he didn’t return to his hotel room, he would cross other lines. Lines he would never dream of crossing with Ali Daniels, at least not in sane moments. He rubbed the back of his neck and grinned at her. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“No.” The shyness left and a grin tugged at the corners of h
er lips. “Not too bad.” She brushed the back of her hand against her lips. Her eyes were still dark, her voice throaty. “We haven’t talked about the Christmas break.”
“No.” Cody forced himself to stay in the chair. “I’m not going home this time.”
“Where then?”
He shrugged. “One of the steer wrestlers has a cabin on his ranch. Maybe there.”
“Hmmm.” She came to him and took the other chair. “I have an idea.”
Cody took her hand in his, running his thumb along the soft inside of her palm. He waited, watching her.
“My dad’s looking for someone to help out on the ranch.” Her voice was hesitant, but she continued. “He wants to be with me over the break.” She met his eyes. “We have a guesthouse. What do you think?” She raised her brow. “Wanna spend Christmas with us, Cody?”
Two months on Ali’s ranch? Days and hours of conversations and long walks and quiet laughter with her? Cody let the idea take root, and as it did the strange feeling came over him again, the one he couldn’t quite pinpoint. He slid his boot alongside hers and tapped her toe. “Are you sure?”
“Mmm-hmm. I talked to Mama earlier today. She’s fine with it; Daddy, too.”
He leaned back in the chair, his eyes still on her. “What happened tonight, that won’t happen again, right? That’s the way you want it?”
Sorrow cast a shadow over her. “It’s the way it has to be, Cody. I wish I could explain it better.”
“I understand.” He gave her a half smile. “At least I’ll try to understand.” Two months on Ali’s ranch as nothing more than her friend? The situation would test his will. But the alternatives weren’t even a consideration. He had no choice; he would take whatever she gave him. “When do we leave?”
A smile filled her face, the biggest smile he’d ever gotten from her. “First thing in the morning.”
“I’ll be here.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, the most tender kiss he could manage. His heart soared, breaking through the clouds of gloom and doubt and loss, all the feelings he would’ve had if this were good bye. “See you tomorrow, Ali.”
It was on the way back, halfway to the hotel, that Cody had a sudden realization. Since he’d known Ali, he hadn’t been able to make out the strange feeling in his chest, the way she sometimes took his breath away and left him weak at the knees. Admiration, companionship, definitely. But this feeling wasn’t that. It wasn’t even lust.
Now, after an hour in Ali Daniels’ arms, he knew exactly what the strange feeling was, and the realization made his head spin. He would have to keep the truth from her; otherwise she’d run scared away from him, as fast as she could in the opposite direction. The feeling was bound to scare her, because it scared him, too. She was sick, after all. Cystic fibrosis meant she wouldn’t live as long as other people. But the fear wasn’t enough to keep him away, not with this new understanding of his heart’s feelings.
It was a feeling he’d promised himself he would never have, not for anyone other than Carl Joseph. But it was too late now. The way he felt for Ali ran deeper than what he felt for his brother, deeper than anything he’d ever experienced. His feelings for her were raw and alive and all-consuming.
Never mind his tough-guy image, or all the ways he’d been invincible on the back of a bull. There was nothing he could do to stop the way he felt. No matter what he told her in the coming months about being content with her friendship, he would be lying. The truth was, he didn’t care about Ali Daniels only as a friend.
He was in love with her.
Chapter Eleven
From the beginning, Ali believed it was possible.
She could bring Cody Gunner home and enjoy his company, watch him work the cattle in the fields, talk with him at night and still keep her distance. She had to, really. Because first place in her life didn’t belong to her or Ace or the Pro Rodeo Tour. It didn’t belong to Cody.
First place belonged to cystic fibrosis.
The disease would determine the number of her days and the quality in the number. But it wouldn’t determine the way she spent her life. Cody knew she wouldn’t live as long as other people, but he had no idea how little time she had.
So it was up to her to keep things between them platonic.
It was their third day back, and they were in Dr. Cleary’s office, Ali seated between her parents. Over the phone, he had recommended a hospital stay—four days at least. But Ali convinced him she was just as well off at home. She could stay inside where the air was clean, use a portable oxygen tank, and increase her medications. Besides, she’d be around Cody and her family. That had to be better than the hospital.
Now, they were talking about the possibility of a lung transplant.
“We have the test results back from earlier. Your father was a match.” He checked his chart. “Your mother has the wrong blood type. The problem is, we need two donors if we do a live-donor transplant.”
“Couldn’t we do just one?” Fear lined her mother’s face. She could barely speak. “Wouldn’t that help a little?”
“No. The healthy lobe would quickly be infected by the diseased lung.” He shook his head. “I’d want to remove her lungs completely. She’d need two donors.” Another pause. “And I’ve checked your insurance. The transplant will cost tens of thousands of dollars out of pocket.”
“We’ll find the money.” Her father gave a curt nod. The cost of cystic fibrosis was something he never talked about, something he seemed determined to protect her from. “Somehow we’ll find it.”
“Very well.” The doctor went on about the other details. Already he’d put her on a list, a registry through the University of Colorado Hospital in Denver where a computer would match donors with recipients. Most of the donors would come from cadavers, so there would be little warning if she was chosen.
The news was hard for all of them, but especially for her father. He was a quiet man, tall and strong. He’d missed out on much of Ali’s barrel-racing career because they needed him back at the ranch, working the cattle. But during the times Ali was home, nothing would keep him from spending entire days with her—playing pinochle and backgammon and Scrabble while Ali told him stories from her year on the road.
But as Dr. Cleary delivered one blow after another, her father began to massage his throat. His cheeks got red; then his chin began to quiver. She’d never seen him cry, but when the doctor reached the part about the cost, and the last part—the part about still needing another donor to pull off a live transplant, two tears rolled down his leathered cheeks.
He cleared his throat and crossed his arms hard in front of him. “When… when will she need the operation?”
Dr. Cleary’s lips formed a straight line. His eyes didn’t waver as he looked at her father. “She needs it now, Mr. Daniels. Her lungs aren’t getting any better.”
“Maybe they will.” Her mother put her hand on her father’s knee. She tried to sound hopeful. “After she rests some.”
Ali agreed with her mother. She was a week off one of the biggest rodeos of her life. If she could race barrels ten days straight, she couldn’t be too sick.
“To be honest, I’m not hopeful.” The doctor frowned. “Let’s talk about the chances of getting a call from the donor registry.” He crossed his arms, his jaw set. “Recipients are ranked according to their need. Ali needs a lung, but she’ll live awhile without one. That means she won’t be at the top of the list right away. The trouble is, once she’s there, she won’t have much time.”
“What can we do, Doctor?” Ali’s father took hold of her hand.
Dr. Cleary lowered his brow. “Live donors need the right blood type and they must be in good health. Healthy lungs have five lobes, two large lower lobes, and three smaller lobes. Ideally, donors should be bigger than the recipient, since their two lobes will replace five.”
Her father had his hand near his throat again. “But if her mother isn’t a match…”
“Then we need t
o find another donor.” He looked from her father to her mother and back again. “Is there anyone in the family, an uncle or a cousin, someone who might consider being a live donor?”
Ali felt sick to her stomach, her head spinning. It was her fault they were having this discussion. She shook her head. “No. We can’t ask that of anyone.” She squeezed her father’s hand and met his eyes. “We’ll just hope for a call from the registry.”
The doctor went through a few other pieces of advice and warnings, how important it was for her to stay inside and stay off her horse during the break, that sort of thing.
When the meeting was finished, Ali thanked the doctor. But she didn’t say another word on the journey home. Her parents sat up front, with her in back. It was a seventy-mile trip to the hospital from the ranch, a trip she and her parents had made far too often. Ali kept her eyes on the road. She needed to be moved up the registry list; then everything would work out.
Her mother turned around. “What are you thinking?”
“Nothing.”
For a little while, her mother was quiet, watching her. Then she reached back and put her hand alongside Ali’s face. “God has a plan. He always has a plan.”
Ali nodded and turned back to the window. She wasn’t sure what to say. If there was a plan in her having CF, she didn’t see it. After a while she looked at her mother. “I wonder if Anna’s riding horses in heaven. You know, since her plan didn’t include riding them here on earth.” The sarcasm felt strange and bitter on her tongue, but her parents seemed to miss it.
“Well…” Her father adjusted his grip on the steering wheel and sighed, the type of tired old sigh that seemed to come from way down in his dusty boots. “I reckon she’s riding the prettiest horse of all.”
She glanced at her father in the rearview mirror. “How’s the cattle work going, Daddy?”
He looked at her, his eyes dull, lifeless. “Cody, you mean?”