Page 33 of Brian and Cora (The Bachelors of Three Bend Lake #2)

I don’t either. "I'll have to get used to such journeys," she said with forced brightness.

"Sometimes, I'll be nursing people in isolated areas where horseback is the only option.

" She attempted a laugh. "I'll need to learn to live with whatever fits in my saddlebags.” She glanced at the bedroom.

“Though for now, I'll leave most of my things for Dr. Angus to bring back on his next visit. "

"You could stay." The words seemed to surprise him as much as her. "Until Hank returns or the doc makes his next trip up. It would be safer."

For a moment, Cora let herself imagine staying—a few more days of this comfortable routine, these moments of unexpected connection. But she was expected home today. If she didn’t show, Rose and the Bellaire-Norton family would worry.

And staying longer would only make leaving harder.

"I'll be fine," she said with a smile that felt brittle. "I need to get back. Dr. Cameron has patients waiting for my services." Or so I hope.

They let the conversation lapse, neither willing to voice what remained unspoken.

After doing the dishes, Cora escaped to pack, folding her few garments with precision to fit as much as possible into her saddlebags.

She tried not to think how—in spite of the wonderful people who dwelt therein—the Bellaire mansion would feel too big and ornate after these weeks of cozy simplicity. And empty.

As she returned Brian's last dime novel to the bookshelf, a vague idea that had been nagging at her crystallized.

She practically ran to where Brian sat at the table, glaring at another empty page, and dropped into the chair across from him, patting the blank paper in her excitement.

"Brian, what if you didn't write a dime novel? "

He looked up, eyebrows raised.

"What if you wrote the true story? A factual account of what really happened with the McCurdy gang rather than trying to create something fictional?"

His eyes went wide, then blazed with creative fire. "Brilliant!" He grabbed her hand, squeezing it in his enthusiasm. "Why didn't I think of that? I'd need to interview the sheriff, the others who were there. That is, if they'll agree…"

"Sheriff Granger didn’t strike me as the self-aggrandizing type," she said dryly, trying to ignore the warmth of his hand covering hers. "But you can certainly ask. I'm sure—” she teased “—you'll discover previously unplumbed depths of persuasion."

"'Unplumbed' is a tactful way to describe my nonexistent persuasive abilities." His thumb brushed across her knuckles before he lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to the back.

Goosebumps raced up Cora's arms, and she was grateful for her long sleeves. Before she could respond, before she could even process the gesture, a knock sounded.

Jewel called from outside. "Cor-a! Cor-a!"

The moment shattered. Brian released her hand. “Come in,” he called and rose, clutching the edge of the table for balance.

Once she was sure Brian was stable, Cora stood.

Torin and Jewel entered, the child clutching a piece of paper, which she thrust at Cora. "For you!"

Cora looked down to see a colorful scribble that might have been a dog or possibly a horse, maybe an elephant. But what was clear was the pink J floating at the top of the page.

With one finger, she traced the letter, her heart swelling with joy. “Oh, Jewel, darling!”

She glanced at Torin and saw the same emotions reflected on his face. Silently, her eyes misting, she handed the drawing to Brian. From his sharp exhale, she knew he understood, and their threesome all experienced the same emotions for the child—love and hope and pride.

She took back the drawing and held it to her chest. "It's beautiful, sweetheart. I'll treasure it."

"Sas-ee now?" Jewel asked hopefully.

"Yes, but stay on the porch," Torin said firmly. "I'll saddle Cora's horse." He picked up the saddlebags leaning next to the front door and carried them out.

As Jewel raced outside with the puppy in pursuit, Brian on his crutches followed more slowly. Once outside, he propped them against the side of the house and used the porch rail to steady himself.

From the doorway, Cora watched with narrowed eyes to make sure he didn’t overdo it.

He looked back and laughed. “I’m fine, Oh Nurse. In no time, I’ll be able to ride.”

She glided toward him. “You’ll have a chance for your interviews.”

“At least I won’t have to head out to Thompson’s ranch.

I heard enough talking from Buck Skold that I can easily recreate his experiences.

Might have to travel to Crenshaw, though, to interview retired Sheriff Rand.

He took over while Sheriff Granger was gone leading us, the posse, I mean.

Rand can tell me what happened in town during that time. His nephew, well, he?—”

Torin leading Ole Miss to the porch interrupted Brian’s spate of words. “Ready?”

No. She nodded.

Brian’s excitement about the book idea must have overridden his usual reserve, and before Cora quite knew what was happening, he'd pulled her into a brief, fierce hug.

They sprang apart, both flustered. Brian's ears turned red, and Cora knew her own cheeks must be flaming.

"I should," she began.

"Yes, of course," he said at the same time.

They stood frozen for a moment before Cora, much like Jewel earlier, thrust the drawing at him. “Will you please put this in my lap desk?”

Still looking unsettled, he took the paper.

Cora turned to mount her horse. Standing on the step made it easy for her to place her foot in the stirrup.

Ever the gentleman, Torin kept a hand on her elbow to help her up.

As Torin arranged the reins, she settled in the saddle, checked to see her skirts decently covered her limbs, and took the reins from Torin.

From the porch, Jewel waved so enthusiastically she nearly toppled over, saved only by her father's quick reflexes. "Bye-bye, Cor-a! Bye-bye!"

"Goodbye, sweetheart. Take good care of Sassy Girl for me."

With a last wave for everyone, Cora turned Ole Miss toward the path and kneed the mare forward. At the bend before the stand of forest, she couldn't help one last look back.

Brian stood at the corner of the porch, weight shifted onto his good leg, one hand braced high over his head against the porch’s support post, looking as handsome and vigorous as any dime novel hero.

She froze the moment into her memory.

Then the trees closed around her, and he was gone.

Brian listened until the sound of Ole Miss’s hoofbeats faded completely. Even Jewel and Sassy Girl stood quietly. The silence rushed back, no longer the longed-for peace but an aching absence that seemed to echo in his chest.

Torin pointed his index finger and flicked his wrist in the direction of his house. “How ’bout I take the wild ones with me for the night? Unless you need the pup to keep you company….”

Brian nodded several times. “Sounds good.”

He rested the side of his head against the support post and watched until they walked out of sight—two of the three people who, for the past eleven years, had constituted his whole world—and felt a rush of gratitude for the steadfast support he and Hank and Torin provided each other.

Brian had the solitude, now, which he’d craved the whole time he’d been away from home. However, he’d learned that solitude with a person of compatible habits, no, a friend with compatible habits, provided him with more…more… He couldn’t name the more.

Enough moping, he told himself firmly. You have a book to write.

Going inside, he settled at the table, pulled a fresh sheet of paper toward him, and began making a list of people to interview.

Sheriff Granger, Deputy Redwolf, Sheriff Temogen, Dr. Angus…

. He listed every member of the posse, plus Sheriff Rand.

Each name sparked a dozen questions, a hundred details he needed to capture.

For the first time in months, the words came easily, flowing from his mind to his pen so fast he almost couldn’t keep up.

Not fiction this time, but truth—messier and more complex than any adventure he could invent.

His imagination skipped ahead to the end of the book—an epilogue, maybe—of a weary, wounded hero returning home to lick his wounds in solitude, only to find… .

Brian paused, as if struck by lightning, the knowingness sizzling heat through his body, and tightening his chest until he almost couldn’t breathe.

His inner walls exploded. Growing dizzy, he took deep breaths until the realization settled within him.

Then, he dipped his pen in the inkpot and wrote down a single word.

Love.