Once they disconnected, Max jerked his body away and shrugged off the hands on him, standing still as a statue, only his chest moving, his breaths coming heavy, the cold tufts of them gusting fast and hard from his mouth, lighting in the moonlight and his head was tipped down, his eyes glued to Harry. Harry had collapsed to his front but up on an elbow with his head bent as if he couldn’t hold it up.
I pushed up to my feet, completely oblivious to the snow that covered me, matted wet and cold in my hair, embedded in my clothes and I stumbled to Max. I was two feet away before he turned to me. I felt his eyes hit me through the darkness and my knees gave way before I made it those last two feet.
But I didn’t fall because Max caught me in his arms and hauled me deep into his large, tall, strong body, holding me close, holding me tight, holding me safe.
Told you he was close, Charlie said in my head, his voice teasing but relieved.
It was funny and I would have laughed if I wasn’t busy bursting into tears.
“I got you, Duchess,” Max’s gravelly voice rumbled in my ear.
I lifted my arms to wrap him as tight as I could with the little energy I had left and I shoved my face in his neck. One of Max’s arms stayed locked around me and his other hand slid up, palm warm on my neck, fingers in my wet, snow tangled hair and he held my face to his warmth as I sobbed.
“I got you, baby,” he whispered. “You’re safe. I got you.”
I nodded into his neck and when I had it together enough, I whispered, “Bitsy’s up there somewhere. Shauna too.”
“All right, darlin’,” Max muttered, I felt his lips leave my ear and he asked someone else quietly, “You hear that?”
“We’re on it,” I heard Mick say then I felt Max’s breath warm again on my neck.
“Hold tight, Duchess,” he urged and I did the best I could do and held even tighter. “That’s it,” he whispered, his arm returning the favor.
Things were happening around us, people talking, moving, Steve’s murmur from behind me, his hand touching my hair before it fell away but nothing penetrated the fortress Max had built around me with his arms, his body, his strength. All that was my world was being held in his arms.
When I got myself together, I whispered, “Max?”
“Right here, Nina,” he whispered back immediately, “I’m always right here, honey.”
I hiccoughed another sob and pressed deeper into him.
Then I asked, “Will you take me home?”
Again, Max answered immediately, “Absolutely.”
Then he bent, lifting me in his arms, he carried me through the snow and pine trees of a Colorado mountain, straight to his Cherokee where he set me gently in the passenger seat, buckled me in safely, folded into the driver’s side and then he took me home.
Epilogue
Final Visits
I walked into the A-frame carrying my bags and shouting, “Max!”
I received no reply.
I dumped the bags on the dining table, considered for a moment how angry Max was going to get when he saw that I’d bought myself a whole new outfit (including shoes and underwear), decided that he’d be pretty angry (until he saw the underwear) then I shouted again, “Max! I’m home! Where are you?”
I was shouting because now, if you couldn’t see the person whose attention you wanted, you needed to shout in the A-frame. This was because Max had built off both sides.
One side, off the kitchen, was a one story, huge family room that was stuffed full of furniture that invited you to lounge and do it a long time (and we did); a big flat screen TV on the wall; and inset shelves all around filled with books, CDs and DVDs. There was another enormous stone fireplace in there that helped to heat the space in the winters and made it even cozier and it was already, no matter how big it was, pretty cozy considering the high lounge factor of the furniture.
The living room also included an enormous wedding portrait taken by none other than Jimmy Cotton. It was a portrait that, personally, I thought was far and away Cotton’s masterpiece.
It was a black and white candid of me in my ivory gown, Max in his dark suit. Max had guided me away from the party for a private moment and he had an arm light around my waist. I had a hand light on his neck. My head was tipped back, Max’s tipped down so our faces were close. We were talking, about what I didn’t recall, but whatever it was, even though we were both in profile, you could see Max had a small smile playing about his mouth and I had a huge one on mine, like I was about ready to burst out laughing. We both looked happy, we looked natural standing close and touching and, best of all, we looked obviously, unashamedly and completely in love.
I adored that picture. It was my favorite thing in the house and I never tired of looking at it even though Max teased me (frequently) when he caught me lost in study of that picture.
At the other side of the house, off the great room, Max built on two stories with two bedrooms and a bath downstairs. Upstairs was Max and my master suite with a big bathroom and a sitting room. I loved that master suite, it was beautiful, but I missed being with Max in our loft which we now used as a guest room whenever Mom and Steve or friends from England came visiting.
Therefore, considering the fact that even with me shouting, Max might not hear me, I went in search of him.
As I moved through our house, I tried not to think of seeing Shauna at the mall with her husband. I hadn’t seen her in ages, it had to have been at least two years, and seeing her brought up thoughts that hadn’t occupied my mind in a long time. Thoughts I didn’t want to have but thoughts, whenever they started to crowd in, I couldn’t keep at bay.
Word was, Shauna lived just outside Carnal now, a town about thirty miles away. Gossip in Gnaw Bone reported she actually loved this guy. Seeing him for the first time, I was surprised. He was shorter than her, older than her and not nearly as physically attractive as her. Gossip also said he wasn’t exactly rolling in the dough but she was content in her average house with her husband’s average salary.
Max said it was bullshit since she still didn’t work and likely she had her eyes peeled for her next target just like always.
My thoughts were that it might not be bullshit. Even an ice queen would rethink her life’s path when, because of her actions, her mantoy gets murdered leaving his kids fatherless; her previous life path set her up to be framed for multiple murders; and when it came out she tried to fleece her lifelong best friend, everyone in town stopped not liking her and started actively hating her and they were not afraid to show it even if she’d survived a significant trauma.