Page 85 of Fire and Rain
“You.”
Sean smiled. “Yeah. Me neither.”
“The night Justin died, I thought I would never laugh again, never love again, never be happy again. I couldn’t even imagine it. It was like half of me was ripped away. I was no longer whole, but somehow my heart kept beating. I told myself that Maverick was the only thing that mattered now. I knew I had to somehow find a way to keep going for his sake.”
“And you did, Eden. You were so strong.”
Eden laughed. “Says the man who watched me cry my way through an entire box of tissues—twice.”
He squeezed her hand. “Hey, you were entitled to those tears.”
“I didn’t believe it was possible for me to love anyone again. Now it’s almost six months later, and I’m with you watching the sun set over this beautiful lake.”
He ran his thumb over her knuckles. “I never want to make you cry or cause you pain. But we both know I might get transferred to a new duty station—and soon.”
Eden’s heart constricted at the thought. “Have you gotten word?”
“No, not yet. I’ve already asked to remain here, but you know how that goes.”
“Orders, not options.”
“Exactly.”
She willed herself to let that worry go and sipped her whiskey. “We have to enjoy the time we have. If I didn’t understand that before Justin’s death, I do now. Joy and tears seem to be a package deal, one following after the other just like sunshine and rain. I can’t stop it, any more than I can stop the sun from setting. If we waste our time in the sunshine worrying about the rain, we’ll miss the whole point of living.”
He exhaled—a quick gust of breath—and looked at her as if he’d never seen her before. “I meant it when I said I’ve never met any woman like you. How did you get to be so wise? You’re only twenty-eight, for God’s sake.”
“I come from a long line of very wise women.”
“Yeah, I believe that.”
Motion caught her eye, and she spotted the mama brown bear and her two cubs about a half mile up the shoreline. “Look. She’s teaching them to fish—or trying.”
One of the cubs rolled in the mud, while the other splashed in the water with its front paws, surely frightening all the fish away. Mama Bear looked back at them, an almost recognizable expression of frustration on her furry face.
Sean laughed. “She’s got a long way to go.”
Eden heard a telltale whine and got to her feet. “Time to go inside unless you want to be dinner for the state bird.”
“Nah, Ihatemosquitoes.” He waved one away from his face.
She walked toward the door. “I brought a deck of cards.”
“A deck of cards?” Sean headed down the stairs toward the woodshed.
“Strip poker.”
“Oh, hell, yes. Deal me in. Have I mentioned I’m very good at poker?”
“Have I mentioned that I just want to get you naked?”
By the time Sean had the night’s firewood stacked next to the woodstove, Eden had the bottle of whiskey, cups, and the deck of cards ready to go.
She shuffled the deck. “Jokers are wild.”
As the evening passed and Sean won hand after hand, Eden found herself treasuring each moment, holding them in her heart. This was her life right now. The sun was shining on her, and she would revel in it.
Sean threw his cards onto the table—a straight flush. “You lose! Those panties have to come off, sweetheart.”
