Bucky was their best chance, Bethany decided. The pack-horse was too loaded down to make good time, and Wink hadn't been on the Rocking K very long. Bucky had probably covered these mountain trails with Ryan many a time, and if set free, he'd know the way home.

Miraculously the gelding stopped prancing the instant Bethany got close to his hooves. Tears nearly blinded her. "You're a good boy," she told him shakily. Before she untied the horse's reins, Bethany sat up and rubbed her bloody arms on his chest, praying whoever found the horse would notice the smears of crimson on his sorrel coat. "I need you to go home, Bucky. Run as fast as you can, boy. Go home."

She jerked his reins free from the stump.

"Go!" she yelled. "Ha! Ha! Out of here. Go on!" She slapped the gelding's chest. "Ha, I said!"

Already terrified from the recent bear attack, the horse was skittish anyway, and that was all it took. He wheeled and bolted. As she gazed after the gelding, Bethany sent up a silent prayer that Bucky would head straight for the ranch and that someone would be over at Ryan's place to see him when he got there.

The instant Sly saw Ryan's horse come wandering into the stable without a rider, he knew something was wrong. He immediately contacted Rafe.

"We got trouble, son. You best get over here."

Rafe was there within five minutes. He looked Bucky over, saw what appeared to be blood on the horse's "chest, and swore under his breath. "Something happened. One of them is badly hurt."

Sly had already deduced that much and had started saddling horses. "You want I should call Bethany's brothers? We're gonna need all the men we can get if we gotta track 'em." Rafe nodded. "I'll call them, Sly. If you'd finish getting the horses saddled, I'd much appreciate it." "How many?" Sly asked as Rafe turned toward the stable office. "She's got three brothers living here in town. My guess is they'll all come. Five mounts for us, I reckon, and a spare for Ryan, since his is here." Rafe stopped and sent Sly a hollow-eyed look. "Just pray to God he's alive to need a horse. That's a lot of blood on Bucky." "Think positive, son. Ryan's a smart boy. Knows them mountains like the palms of his hands. He's okay." Rafe nodded and opened the door to the office.

The howls of coyotes weren't so beautiful when you were alone in the dark, praying with every breath that the man you loved could hang onto life a while longer. Bethany sat with Ryan's head on her lap. He had regained consciousness a few times. Only briefly. A few lucid moments to break up an eternity of aloneness . . .

Each time, all he seemed concerned about was her.

"Bethany," he croaked the first time. "Honey, keep the rifle close and don't go to sleep. One bullet probably didn't kill the bastard, and he may come back." "I won't sleep, Ryan. Don't worry. I promise you, I won't sleep." He slipped away from her again. The second time he awoke, he seemed calmer. Or was it only that he was weaker? Bethany's heart twisted, and she wanted to cry as she looked into his shimmering eyes. "There's a song," he whispered. "Garth Brooks, I th-think. A man wondering if she knows-wondering if he's done enough." Bethany touched her fingers to his lips and sobbed, unable to imagine what a song had to do with anything. "Save your strength. Don't try to talk." "Got to. Important." He gulped and stared at the sky. "If I don't wake up, I need to know that you know."

"Know what?"

"How much I-" He closed his eyes. "How much I love you."

He passed out again then. Bethany sobbed and hugged him close, rocking wildly. "I know, Ryan. How could I not? I know ..." The next time he regained consciousness, he said, "They'll circle back. Sometimes, they circle back. Keep the gun close and the safety off."

"I will. It's right here beside me. I'll shoot the son of a bitch. Trust me."

His teeth flashed in a weak grin, his face pallid and eerie looking in the moonlight, streaked with dry blood. "I've never heard you cuss. I'll be damned." "Right now, I could teach you a few dirty words." He smiled again. "You already taught me a lot, darlin'." He gazed up at her. Then his eyes seemed to lose focus. "It's been good," he whispered. "It was-everything. Understand?"

She nodded. "I know, Ryan. I know how much you love me. Almost as much as I love you, I think."

His face contorted with pain. His lashes fluttered closed. "Bethany?" he whispered weakly.

"What?" she squeezed out.

"I don't think-" He gulped and grabbed for a painful breath. "I don't think I can hold on much longer."

"I'll hold on for you. Rest, Ryan. I love you so. You can't leave me."

The next time he came to, he was weaker. He wasted no time on unnecessary words. "Rafe. My folks. You tell them. We made vows. I want you to have the place." As if she cared. Tears streamed down Bethany's cheeks. "I don't give a shit about your money, Ryan. Don't even think about that." "Not the money," he forced out. "The place. Heaven in your backyard. You stay, Bethany. You and Wink. With my family. Promise me?" "You're going to make it, Ryan. You have to. Do you understand? I sent Bucky back. Help will be here soon. Just hold on a little longer."

"Can't," he whispered. "Promise me. You'll stay. Gotta know."

"I promise. I'll stay there, Ryan. With heaven in my backyard. I promise."

He lost consciousness for a long time then.

Bethany kept checking his pulse. It was weak. So horribly feeble. The beats had become so faint, she could barely feel them, and they were spaced an eternity apart. He was losing his strength, his life's blood slowly seeping away. A terrible stillness came over her as she cradled his head to her bare breasts. Ryan, Had it all been a dream, then? A beautiful dream doomed to end, as all dreams did?

The moon was at its zenith when Bethany thought she heard Jake's voice calling her name. She jerked her head up and stared stupidly through the moon-silvery gloom, wondering if she'd nodded off and been dreaming.

"Bethaneeeeeee! Bethaneeeeee!"

Her heart soared with hope. "Jake? We're here! Over here! Jake?"

She saw lights. Flashlights, What appeared to be dozens of them, bouncing wildly in the darkness. She hugged Ryan's limp shoulders and rained kisses over his face. "You made it! They came. Just in time, but they came. You made it!" Even as Bethany said the words, she wondered if she was lying to herself. He was so horribly weak now.

As much as she loved him, sometimes love simply wasn't enough.

Nightmares. Bethany dreamed of helicopters. Totally weird. Of Ryan and helicopters? He'd mentioned once that the Rocking K had an airstrip, but he'd never said anything about owning a helicopter. Nevertheless, she dreamed they were flying. She smiled as she straggled toward consciousness. She and Ryan, flying. Just the two of them, lifting off together. Darkness. Confusing lights all around them. The deafening whir of helicopter blades.

In her dreams, Jake was there and so were Ryan's brother and dad. She kept trying to remind them that it was a ten-dollar fine for every cussword, but somehow she couldn't get her brain and mouth to work.

"It's all right, Bethie," she heard Jake whisper. "You did good, honey, It's going to be all right."

Bethany was freezing, yet she felt as if her skin was on fire. She drifted in and out of blackness, deep in an exhausted sleep one moment, jerking awake the next to see swimming faces. Her mom and dad, Jake, and her other four brothers. Everyone she loved seemed to be there.

Everyone except Ryan.

When Bethany finally awakened, rested and lucid, in the middle of the night, only Jake sat by her hospital bed. She gazed solemnly at his dark face for a long moment, remembering all the many times he'd sat with her in just this way eight years ago. Back then, he'd always been the one to tell her the most recent bad news-that she was still paralyzed after her last surgery and she'd probably never walk again. Poor Jake, always chosen to be the bearer of bad tidings. Bethany prayed that wasn't the case now.

"Ryan? Please tell me he's all right," she whispered.

Jake's eyes ached with sadness. "He's still alive," he told her.

Still alive? Not that he was fine. Not even that he was doing fairly well. "What's that mean?" She struggled up onto her elbows and immediately cried out at the pain. Her torso burned at the slightest movement. "Oh, God!" "You've got a bad burn from sitting all that time in the sun, honey. No clothing to protect your skin. When we found you, you were cooked and flirting with hypothermia as well."

Bethany filed away the information for later and pushed the pain aside. That was a trick she'd learned long ago, how to ignore pain. When it was a part of everyday life for a long while, you had no choice but to live with it. "Ryan. Tell me how he is, Jake. Don't color it. I have to know how he is."

Jake sighed and ran a hand over his rumpled dark hair. "Not good. A crushed hip, three broken ribs, and some very serious wounds, Bethany. He lost a lot of blood. They did a direct transfusion, using Rafe's blood." Terror washed through her. "But he's-he's here in the hospital now. Right? They'll fix him up, and he'll be fine."

Jake closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, Bethany knew the awful truth before he said it out loud. "He's hanging on, honey. Been a rough night. Touch and go. The doctors-" He shrugged and swallowed hard.

The sight of him struggling to control his emotions told Bethany just how grave Ryan's condition was and made her all the more afraid. "He put himself between me and the bear. He could have run. Tried to save himself. But he protected me."

Jake nodded, "I figured." "He can't--die. He cant Not now that he's in the hospital," Her voice rose in volume. "He can't die. Don't even tell me that! Don't even!" "I'm sorry, sweetie. I'm so sorry. They've done all they can. He's too weak right now to undergo surgery. They have him in ICU. The doctors say if he makes it through the night, he'll be out of the woods."

"If?" Bethany began pushing at the blankets. "Take me to him."

"Bethany, honey ... you're not in great shape yourself. You shouldn't-"

"Take me to him!"

Evidently Jake saw she meant business. He lifted her from the bed into a hospital wheelchair, covered her legs with a blanket, and pushed her to ICU.

Three days later, Bethany sat by Ryan's hospital bed, staring at his lax features. Still heavily drugged for pain, he slept deeply, unaware of what went on around him. A jagged, angry red cut angled over one of his sunken cheeks. She knew it would leave a scar on his beautiful face, every line of which had been engraved on her heart. Oh, how she wished she could kiss him. Touch him, But she was trapped in her wheelchair and couldn't reach him. The doctors said he would live, that the danger was past. He'd undergone surgery on his hip. His other wounds would heal with time. He might always have a limp. But he was going to live. Bethany was so glad. So very, very glad. Over the last twenty-four hours, she had cried enough to cause a major flood.

Ann Kendrick came into the room just then. She stepped around to stand at the opposite side of her son's bed. After touching his forehead in that universal way of all moms, she fixed sad gray eyes on Bethany.

"He'll never understand, you know. It'll break his heart, Bethany, and he may never forgive you. I know my son." Bethany stared hard at her lap. She hadn't told Ann or anyone else of her decision, but it didn't surprise her that Ryan's mother had guessed. She seemed to be an intuitive lady. Bethany found the strength to meet her gaze. "Do you understand, Ann?" Ann's eyes took on a suspicious shine. She stared for a long moment at Ryan. "Yes, I understand," she admitted softly. "He'll probably never forgive me for telling you that. I should probably deny it with my last breath, but, yes, I do understand." She smoothed his black hair with a trembling hand. "If I were in your place, I might do the same thing myself. Kendrick men make wonderful husbands. They love passionately with their whole heart and soul, and they treat a woman like a queen. But as wonderful as it is, being loved that fiercely places a burden of responsibility on a woman's shoulders as well, especially for someone like you."

"A terrible burden," Bethany agreed.

"I wish I could tell you he would never again throw himself in the path of danger for you. I know this is as heartbreaking for you as it will be for him. But sadly, I can't. No telling what it would be next time. A frightened horse or a loco steer." She shrugged and smiled tearfully. "On a ranch, you just never know, the only certainty being that he'd jump in to protect you and might get hurt."

Bethany was so relieved that it wasn't necessary to explain her reasons. "Oh, Ann, thank you. For understanding, I mean. It's so hard for me to go."

"It's hard for me to let you go without arguing his case, given the fact that he's unable to speak for himself right now." Ann trailed a fingertip over the tray beside Ryan's bed. "If he were awake, he'd tell you how very much he loves you, and that he'd rather be dead than live without you."

Bethany closed her eyes. She knew that was exactly what Ryan would probably say, but hearing Ann say it aloud was worse than merely hearing it in her mind, "Loving him as you do, Bethany, I hope you've considered the problem from every angle and know with absolute certainty that there's no way to work it out. I meant it when I said he may never forgive you. This will hurt him so much. I'm sure you know that." She sighed and shook her head. "Forgive me for butting in. It's your decision to make, and I should just let you make it. It's just that I'm not sure he'll take you back if you should change your mind later. It wouldn't be fair if I let you leave without telling you that."

"I won't change my mind." Bethany tried not to look at Ryan. "The day before it happened, we, um ... we exchanged wedding vows on Bear Creek Ridge. Just he and I, with only God to hear. One of ray promises was that I would try to love him more than I love myself. I'm trying to keep that promise right now."

"Oh, sweetie..."

"If I stay on the ranch, the only way I can avoid putting him at risk again is to stay completely away from the animals. That wouldn't be a marriage, Ann, He needs someone to share his life with him, someone who can work beside him and dream with him."

"I know," Ann agreed hollowly.

"All of you tried so hard to make that possible for me," Bethany whispered raggedly. "You'll never know how grateful I am, But I just can't do it. I just--can't. All the trying in the world won't make me whole again, and my selfishness almost killed him."

"Oh, Bethany . .." Ann took a bracing breath, "You're still very upset, honey, and you may not be thinking clearly. Can you give it a few more days? You need time to distance yourself from what happened up there, Time to let the horror of it become less vivid. Maybe then you'll feel calmer and see things a little differently,"

Bethany shook her head and wheeled from the room. Ann followed, her riding boots tapping sharply on the well-waxed tile. "If I wait, I won't go," Bethany told her. "I love him so much. It would be so easy to start lying to myself and thinking up reasons to stay. And in the end, I wouldn't go,"

"Exactly," Ann said with a humorless laugh. "That's my hope."

Bethany braked to a stop. "Is it really? You weren't on the mountain. You didn't see the bear attack. You're thinking clearly right now. Look me in the eye and tell me you won't blame me if Ryan ends up dead trying to protect me from a danger I might have avoided. Can you tell me that?" Bethany waited a beat. "The truth, and please don't answer lightly. Imagine yourself, standing over his grave. How will you feel when you look at me, Ann?"

Ann's face drained of color. She said nothing, but it was all the answer Bethany needed. She left Ann Kendrick standing in the hallway and didn't look back. A few minutes later when she exited the hospital, she had never in her life felt so alone.

Chapter Twenty~two.

Six weeks later, Ryan parked his dusty pickup next to a corral over at Rafe's place. When he exited the vehicle and started pulling on soiled leather work gloves, his father waved from inside the small enclosure where he, Rafe, and Sly were dehorning a hogtied steer.

"Looks to me like you're fixin' to go to work!" Keefe called. "You sure you're ready for this?"

"Can't sit around forever," Ryan hollered back as he limped toward the fence. "I'm getting damned tired of staring at bare walls. Time to rejoin the world of the living."

Keefe strode over to the fence, watching as Ryan struggled to climb up and over the rails. "Still a little sore, I see."

"Nothing that won't get better with use." Ryan swung down inside the corral to stand beside his dad. "Too pretty a day to be inside, that's for sure." Keefe smiled and squinted at the sky. "Nothing like a summer morning to get the blood to perking. Can't believe it's damned near August. The snows will come before we know it."

Ryan forced a laugh. These days, strained laughter was all he could manage. His heart just wasn't in it. But that would pass. Bethany's four younger brothers had tracked down the renegade bear and killed it. The surgery to repair the damage to his hip had gone very well, and in time, he'd have only a slight limp as a reminder of that day. As for the mess his life was in, the Kendricks were survivors. In time, the pain would subside.

Yep. To hell with her. To hell with everything. He'd move on. Eventually her face would blur in his memory, and he'd forget the color of her eyes, In time, he'd stop hurting.

Time. That was all he needed, a little more time.

"Your mother says you're packing up a bunch of stuff to ship to Bethany," his dad said.

Ryan's guts knotted at the sound of her name, "Yeah. That treadmill, the all-terrain wheelchair, and a couple of other things I've got no use for. She may as well have them."

"Must've been hard, reaching that decision. A final step, cutting her out of your life."

Ryan shrugged. "I don't want to look at the shit. I figure sending it to her is another step toward healing for me."

"Probably wise thinking." Keefe sighed. "I'm sorry, son. I know you're hurting."

"It hurts to cut out cancer, too." Ryan hauled in a deep, cleansing breath.

"That's mighty harsh," Keefe said softly.

"Yea, well, it's how I feel I'm well rid of her. For better or worse, that was our bargain. First spot of trouble, and she ran out on me. Without a word, Dad. I damned near died for her. I think she owed me a face-to-face good-bye. Don't you? At least a note or something. Screw it. I don't need the aggravation or the heartache. I've come through the worst part without her. I'll get through the rest and be better off in the long run for the loss."

"I hear you." Keefe gazed off at the mountains. His mouth twitched at one corner. "The little bitch." Ryan stiffened. He stared at the ground for a long moment. "I don't love her anymore," he said evenly. "But that doesn't give you license to call her names."

Keefe's eyes started to twinkle, and he nodded almost imperceptibly. "You're right. It's the daddy coming out in me. She doesn't have that coming. I apologize, son."

Ryan shrugged. "No skin off my nose, I don't guess. If it flips your skirt, go for it."

Keefe rubbed the back of his fist over his mouth. "Nah. I was out of line. She's a sweet little thing. Never did anything to warrant any name-calling." "Nope." "Too bad it all came out the way it did." Ryan shrugged again. Keefe watched Rafe and Sly work for a moment, his eyes still twinkling. "Take heart, son. You'll find the right woman someday." "1 found her. It didn't work out. That's it for me." "You'll change your mind when you clap eyes on the right girl." "Nope." That was all Ryan said, but the word was a vow. "You know, son, not that I'm defendin' her or anything, but your mother seems to think she had sound reasons. Lis tening to her, I can damned near believe it myself. Women." Keefe shook his head. "Sometimes they see things inside out and ass backward, but their hearts are in the right place. They just need a man to get their heads on straight." Ryan shot his father a glare. "Don't start, Dad. If you're going to switch sides, keep your thoughts to yourself. I don't want to hear it."

"I'm not switching sides. I'll always be on your side. You know that. It's just-"

"That Mom's been working on you?" Ryan finished for him. "I know she feels bad for me and that she hopes I'll go chasing after her. News bulletin. It ain't happening. She made her decision. The day I go chasing off to Portland to kiss her ass and beg her to come back, hell will freeze over. End of subject."

Rafe finished with the bull. As he shooed the animal into an adjoining pen, he spotted his brother and waved. A mo-ment later Rafe sauntered across the enclosure. "Howdy. You're lookin' spry and ready to tangle."

Keefe slipped the cigarettes he seldom smoked from his shirt pocket. He tapped out a Winston, his eyes narrowing as he watched his elder son approach. "His mood just took a downward turn. All it takes is sayin' her name, and he gets prickly as a porcupine,"

"Uh-oh," Rafe fixed an amused gaze on Ryan's scowling face. "He's probably just feeling better and getting horny. There's a cure for that, little brother. You can be on her doorstep in less than three hours if you break all the speed limits to get there,"

"Jesus Christ." Ryan snatched the pack of cigarettes and lighter out of his dad's hands. The other two men watched him in stunned surprise as he lit up and inhaled. "Back off." He handed back the cigarettes and lighter. "Both of you. I don't need this shit."

Rafe chuckled, "He's hangin' on by a thread to his willpower when he grabs for smokes. Won't be long now." Ryan had had enough. "Rafe, you're my brother, and I love you. But I swear to God, if you don't shut up, you're going to eat this cigarette, fire and all. Do I make myself clear?" Sly strolled over. He smiled wryly as he opened his can of snuff and tucked a wad of chew inside his bottom lip. "You sound like a grizzly with a sore paw, boy." Ryan took another drag from the cigarette, then tossed it on the ground and smothered it out under his heel "Let's get to work," he said with a snarl. "You sure you're ready for wrestlin' them steers?" Sly asked. "Next one up is one that slipped past us last year. He's a big old boy."

"I'm here, aren't I?" Ryan threw the adjoining gate wide to shoo in the next victim, a large black steer with wild-looking eyes. Recently brought in off open range, the critter was nervous around humans and ran a circle around the pen, looking for a bolt hole. Ryan settled his hat back on his head. "Well boys?" he said to the other three men. "You gonna work or stand around with your thumbs up your asses all day?"