A Thousand Tomorrows / Just Beyond the Clouds
“Yes, sir. Is he working out?”
“He’s a polite boy, hard worker.” He stroked his chin, thoughtful in his appraisal. “I like him.” His eyes caught hers and he managed a smile. “So long as you don’t.”
“He’s my friend.” She looked in the rearview mirror and grinned at her mother. “Right, Mama?”
Her mother looked slightly exasperated. She raised an eyebrow. “I have my doubts.” She paused and her tone grew more serious. “You haven’t told him, have you, Ali?”
“Told him what?” She wished her father would go faster; she wanted to get home and let Cody know the good news. No hospital stay for now.
Her father glanced back at her. “You haven’t told him the truth about your health.” He hesitated. “You’re very sick, Ali. He doesn’t know that.”
“He knows.” She kept her tone light. “I told him I have cystic fibrosis.”
“But he doesn’t know you could… you could be gone in a year, right?” Pain filled her mother’s words. She didn’t say them easily.
“Anyone could die in a year.”
Ali’s answer was quick, but her parents were right. Cody had no idea how sick she was, and she owed him the truth. They were quiet for a while, her parents letting the weight of their concern set in. As her father turned right onto their winding driveway, she let out a sharp breath. “Fine. I’ll tell him.”
“I just don’t want him surprised.” Her mother turned and met her eyes again. “You think the two of you are friends, but I’ve seen the way he looks at you. The boy’s crazy about you, honey. Plumb crazy.” She paused. “You need to tell him.”
Ali agreed, but as she climbed out of the truck, as she spotted Cody on Ace a couple hundred yards away, she wanted only to run to him, climb up behind him and race like the wind across the fields, as far from the doctor’s warnings as possible. She would tell him one of these days, before the next season started. Just not yet. Not with Christmas coming, not while they had eight weeks of good times ahead.
“Ali…” Her father stood near the passenger door. He seemed to notice the way she was watching Cody and Ace. “Go in now, ya hear? You need a treatment and a few hours of oxygen.”
“I will, Daddy.” She motioned toward the field. “I just wanna tell Cody we’re back.”
“That’s not what Dr. Cleary—”
“Ali.” Her mother cut in. “Do it fast. Please.”
“I will.” Their eyes met and what Ali saw made her heart swell. Her mother understood. It didn’t matter if every outdoor breath cost her an entire day, nothing could keep her from Cody. The connection between them was that strong.
Her mother linked arms with her father and led him toward the house, her eyes on him. “A few minutes won’t hurt; she’ll be okay.” Over her shoulder she looked back at Ali. “I’ll get your vest ready.”
“Thanks, Mama.” Ali headed toward the field, but Cody wasn’t where he’d been before. Maybe he’d seen them pull in and he was putting Ace in the barn. Ali kept her pace to a fast walk, dormant frostbitten grass crunching beneath her feet. Nothing that would make her breathe too hard. This was a period of recuperation, so any time outdoors was counterproductive.
She made her way to the barn and peered inside. He was there, leading Ace into one of the stalls. He turned when he heard her come in, and his face lit up. “You’re back!”
“Yes.” She wanted to go closer, but barns were the worst place for her. Even this one, with the air purifier.
Cody knew that. He left Ace and jogged across the hay-covered floor. “Let’s get you out of here.”
She nodded and followed him out the door and around the far side of the building, along the wall that faced the open land instead of the house. They stopped after a few yards and faced each other, leaning their shoulders against the wall. She stared at him, soaking him in.
“They didn’t admit you.” His voice was low, each word a caress against her soul. Barely a foot separated them.
“No.” She grinned and raised her eyebrows. “I’m home for good!” She could barely remember the conversation at the doctor’s office, not while she was looking at him, drawn to him. He smelled of cologne and hay and Ace’s sweaty back.
He grinned. “That means you’re doing good. Kicking CF in the shins, right?”
“I guess.” She did a small shrug and suddenly, as it had the last time they were alone this way, the air between them changed. A stillness hung there, cold and crisp. Snow was in the forecast. Christmas was ten days away and everything about the moment was surreal, magical in a way Ali had never known before.
Cody felt it, too, she could tell by the way he looked at her. A force came between them, bigger than either of them, bigger than both of them combined. It drew them closer, paying no heed to common sense. Cody took his gloves off. He stuffed them in the pocket of his coat and touched her face, her shoulder.
Before she could think about what she was doing, she was in his arms.
“Ali—” He looked into her eyes, searching her heart, her soul. His voice was husky, thick with emotion. “How can you ask me to be your friend? All I can think about is that night in Vegas.”
She had no answers. She wasn’t sure how she’d lasted this long. Every spare moment since that night near her trailer, even while she was telling herself she could keep her distance, she had longed for him, to be with him like this again.
Her eyes found his and her words were more of a cry than a whisper. “Kiss me. Please, Cody.”
He leaned into her, his fingers warm against her face, and they came together in a kiss that was drawn out and fueled by desperate need. She nuzzled her face against his, refusing to pull away. He deserved to know what the doctor said, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell him how little time she had. Not when all that mattered were the minutes they had right then, when she could still draw a good breath and he was so alive and strong and warm in her arms.
He kissed her again, brushing his lips along her neck, stirring up feelings wild and unfamiliar. “Ali…” He drew back and his eyes touched parts of her heart she didn’t know existed. “I can’t be your friend.”
She let her forehead fall against his chin. “Yes, Cody. You can; you have to be.”
“I can pretend, but don’t you see?”
Her eyes lifted to his and her heart skittered into a strange pattern. The air was colder now, but it didn’t touch the heat between them. “See what?”
His breath was sweet against her face, making her forget everything else. “I love you, Ali. We can take this as slow as you want.” He kissed her forehead and both cheeks, looking like he was trying to memorize her with his fingers. “But nothing will change the fact that I love you.”
Ali held on to him tighter. What had he just said? He loved her? Her feelings soared and dropped wildly in opposite directions, a part of her giddy, taken with his words. But an equal part terrified, because now, no matter what she said or did, there was no turning back, no way to pretend about a friendship when their hearts had moved miles beyond.
“I’m scared.” She pressed in closer, sheltered by his presence, his feelings for her.
“Don’t be.” He found her lips again. His eyes met hers and she felt a strength, a power she could draw from, one she was no longer capable of. “Everything’s going to be all right.”
“Okay.” She kissed him again. She wanted to tell him she felt the same way, that she loved him as he loved her. But the thought scared her to death. So instead, with every ounce of her resolve, she pulled away. “I have to go; my parents are waiting for me.”
“Don’t be afraid.” He kissed two of his fingers and pressed them to her lips. “We can do this; we’ll take it slow.”
She nodded and moved another few steps back. Then she turned and walked quickly, steadily toward the house. Her cheeks had to be fiery red; certainly her parents would know what she’d been doing. But as she found the gravel path and headed for the back door, she wasn’t worried abo
ut her parents.
She was worried about herself.
Because no matter what Cody said, he couldn’t promise her everything would be okay. And what kind of person was she, letting him think they could be more than friends, letting him believe that love had a fighting chance between them? She was horrible, rotten, and selfish, but she could do nothing to stop herself. Her feelings for Cody were like a potent drug, and she the crazy overnight addict.
But that didn’t make it right. Only Dr. Cleary could make promises at this stage in her life. And his words earlier that day meant just one promise remained for her and Cody. The promise that after today, only one thing could ever come of their time together.
Complete and utter heartache.
Chapter Twelve
For Cody, the days were torture.
Riding the fields of her family’s ranch, tending her father’s cattle, and all the while wanting to be inside with Ali. Once or twice a day Cody would go inside for a drink or a chicken sandwich, and always the sight of her took him by surprise.
She was set up in the living room, small plastic oxygen tubes running from a canister near her feet up along the side of her chair and into her nose. Most of the time she wore the vest, but once he walked in while her mother was beating on her back.
He stopped, horrified.
Mrs. Daniels had her hand cupped and in a methodical fashion, she pounded on a section of Ali’s ribs. The blows came in small tight circles and when she had fully pounded on one area, Ali’s mother would drop down a few inches and start making circles again.
After a minute, Ali saw him there and gave him a weak smile. Her mother stopped and met his eyes. “Cody.” She nodded, out of breath from the effort. “The vest can’t get everything up. Sometimes we still have to do this.”
Cody managed a brief nod and a quick glance at Ali, then he went to the kitchen for water. He gripped the kitchen counter and hung his head over the sink. Was this what she had to go through? Were the secretions Ali talked about that hard to remove? He couldn’t imagine hitting Ali that hard, and yet… obviously the treatment worked. If someone didn’t help her, her lungs would pay the price.
The scene made working with the cattle that much harder. He wanted to be inside, sitting next to her, reading with her or watching movies. She looked well enough, and the doctor’s report had been good. But seeing her with the tubes in her nose, watching her mother pound on her back, Cody felt a thread of terror weave itself around the edge of his heart. She was okay, right? Better than before, wasn’t that what the doctor had told her?
Nights were the best.
After her last treatment, she’d come off the oxygen for an hour or more. They would sit on the sofa, side by side, until her parents went to bed. Then they’d share quiet kisses and whispered thoughts.
Christmas came and they exchanged gifts. Cody gave her a white gold bracelet with a tiny row of diamonds, and she gave him a red scarf. Something she’d been knitting while he was at work outside. Two more weeks went by and Cody couldn’t think of anything but her, his love for her.
She seemed to be getting stronger every day, her lungs more able to handle another round of rodeos. They talked about the upcoming season and how this would be her best chance to finally win the championship. But he couldn’t imagine another year of hiding his feelings, sneaking out to see her for an hour or two.
It hit him one day, a realization as clear as the Colorado sky. He didn’t want to be her secret friend; he wanted to be her husband.
The next morning he borrowed the Ford and headed into town. There, he picked out a brilliant white gold solitaire and had the inside engraved with one word: Forever. That night he wanted to talk to both her parents, but her father turned in early and Cody couldn’t wait. Ali was upstairs taking a bath, so now was the time. With the ring in his jeans pocket, he found her mother in the kitchen stirring something in a green glass bowl.
“Mrs. Daniels…” He stood in the doorway, his heart racing.
She turned and looked at him. “Hello, Cody.” A dishtowel hung over her left shoulder; her hair was pinned up.
“Ma’am, can I talk to you?” Cody walked the rest of the distance into the kitchen and anchored himself a few feet from her.
“Sure.” She set the big plastic spoon on the countertop, blew at a wisp of hair, and turned to face him. “What’s on your mind?”
“Well.” His hands were sweaty. He wiped them on his Wranglers and reached into his pocket. The ring was there and he pulled it out, keeping his fingers tight around it. “Has Ali told you anything about the two of us?”
“Yes.” Sarah Daniels’ expression closed off some. “She tells me the two of you are friends.” She raised one eyebrow a bit. “Nothing more.”
He gave a nervous chuckle and ran his thumb along the ring, keeping it hidden in the palm of his hand. “To be honest with you, ma’am, things have changed. They’ve been changing for a while now.”
“Changing?” She leaned against the counter.
“Yes, ma’am. See…” This was the hardest thing he’d ever said. Ali had been sheltered all her life because of her health. What would her mother think of her sick daughter falling in love with a bull rider? Cody clenched his teeth and continued. “I love her. I’m in love with her. We have… we have very strong feelings for each other.”
Mrs. Daniels crossed her arms, her knuckles white. “Does Ali know you’re talking to me?”
“No.” Cody’s answer was quick. “I went into town today and I bought this.” He held out his hand and opened it. The ring caught the light and sprayed it across the kitchen. It was even more beautiful outside the velvet box. “I want to marry her, Mrs. Daniels. I wanted to talk to you and her father first, but since he was asleep I thought I’d show you the ring and—”
“No, Cody.” She held her hand up and made short desperate shakes with her head. She brought her fingers to her face and covered her eyes.
Her obvious distress stopped him from saying anything else. He held the ring between his thumb and forefinger, and let his hand fall to his side. Was she that surprised, that upset about the idea? Was he such a poor choice for a husband that she couldn’t hear him out?
Through the cracks between her fingers he could see the color leaving her cheeks. Her forehead was creased in a strong mix of grief and sorrow Cody hadn’t expected. He felt his heart sink. Whatever the future held for Ali and him, it wouldn’t be easy.
Finally, she folded her arms and drew in a shaky breath. When her eyes met his, he saw there were tears on her cheeks. “We asked Ali to tell you.”
Cody felt light-headed. What was she talking about? Ali didn’t need to tell anyone anything; that was his job. He was the one who wanted to ask the question. He blinked twice. “Tell me what?”
Ali’s mother came closer and put her hands on Cody’s shoulders. “Ali’s dying.”
He took a step back, letting her hands fall from him. Why would she say that, especially now? Ali was fine. She was better than she’d been at the end of the season. He shook his head, his eyes holding tight to hers. “That’s a terrible thing to say, ma’am. Her doctor told her she was doing better.”
“Cody.” The woman’s voice was tired, but steadier than before. Fresh tears filled her eyes. “For years I’ve prayed Ali would fall in love, that someone might come along to make her forget about horses and barrel racing. Someone who would keep her indoors, where she could be safe.” She made a sound that was more cry than laugh. “Instead, she met you. Someone who loves rodeo as much as she does.”
“Ma’am”—he was shaking from head to toe, his world spinning out of control—“Ali told me about her disease. She said it would take years off her life, but she could live a long time still. Decades, even, right?”
“No.” The sadness in her eyes was deeper, stronger than before. “Ali doesn’t need a wedding, Cody. She needs a lung transplant. Otherwise…” Her voice caught and she brought the back of her hand to her mouth. Two sobs f
illed the space between them. She hung her head. “Cody, I’m sorry; Ali… Ali should’ve told you.”
He couldn’t draw a breath, couldn’t feel himself standing there. It wasn’t happening; he wasn’t hearing this. He bent over, his forearms on his knees. Breathe, Gunner. Get a grip. Nothing was going to happen to Ali, nothing. He straightened and stared at Ali’s mother. “What are you saying? She’s sicker than she’s let on?” His tone was angrier than he intended. “Is that it?”
Mrs. Daniels still had her hand near her mouth. She moved it now, her lips quivering. “Ali will be dead in a year without a lung transplant. That’s what the doctor said the last time he saw us.” She hugged herself and three more quiet sobs shook her shoulders. “We’ve all known it was coming.”
Cody felt the wood floor beneath his feet buckle. Her words didn’t make sense, didn’t connect with the conversations he’d had with Ali even the day before. She was feeling better, anxious to get back on Ace, making plans for the coming season. Ali Daniels wasn’t dying, not even close.
But that reality clashed hard with the one before his eyes. Her mother was crying, weeping for Ali and the pain she clearly believed lay ahead for all of them. He began to shake and sway a little. He couldn’t get his words to come. Was it true? Could Ali have known this and kept it from him? Upstairs, the water was still running. Ali wouldn’t be down for a while.
“Mrs. Daniels…” He waited until she opened her eyes, until he could see for himself whether Ali was as bad off as she’d said. “Ali won’t live another year without a lung transplant? Is that right?”
“Yes, Cody.” She looked at him, and in that moment he knew. “We’ve talked about a live transplant, but that won’t work.” A catch sounded in her voice. “She’s on a donor list; that’s all we can do.”
Cody’s head was spinning. It was true, all of it.
Ali’s lungs really were that bad, no matter what she said or how she felt or how determined she was to be at the season opener in January. She was dying. And suddenly all the fuzzy lines of their relationship came into crisp, clear focus. Of course she hadn’t wanted to be more than friends.