Chapter 22 #2
Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and whatever he’d meant to say dissolved from his mind. Heat flooded him, chasing away the cold that had settled in his bones during those long nights of digging through snow and ice.
She wanted this. Wanted him.
The realization surged through his chest.
He leaned in slowly, giving her time to pull away.
She didn’t. Instead, she rose up on her knees and closed the distance between them.
Fire flashed through his entire body. An avalanche—nearly overpowering.
Her mouth was desperate, salt-tinged from her tears. Her hands gripped his shirt, drawing him closer. This wasn’t the careful brush of lips they’d shared at their wedding—this was need and fear and something far deeper he didn’t have words for.
He kissed her back, tangling one hand in the loose fall of her hair while the other splayed across her back. She made a sound against his mouth—half sob, half something else—and pressed closer.
Her fingers loosened their grip on his shirt, sliding up to frame his face. The touch was gentle despite the urgency in her kiss, and the contrast made his chest ache.
He pulled back just enough to breathe, to search her eyes in the dim light. “Kate—”
“Don’t stop.” Her voice was ragged. Raw. “Please. I need—I just need—”
He understood. She needed to feel something other than fear. Needed to be held by someone who wouldn’t let go. Needed proof that she wasn’t alone in this.
He could give her that.
He kissed her again, softer this time but no less intense. Poured everything he couldn’t say into the press of his mouth against hers—that she was extraordinary and brave and that watching her hurt was tearing him apart.
Her hands moved to his hair, fingers threading through the strands as she angled her head to deepen the kiss. He growled.
This was dangerous. Not because of scarlet fever or doctor’s orders, but because of what it meant. Because kissing Kate like this—holding her like she was the only solid thing in his world—made California feel so much less important.
Made leaving feel impossible.
She broke the kiss first, her forehead dropping against his shoulder as she struggled to catch her breath. Her fingers still tangled in his hair, holding him close like she was afraid he might slip away.
“I’m sorry.” The words came muffled against his shirt. “I shouldn’t have—”
“Don’t apologize.” He stroked one hand down her back, doing his best to smooth out the tremors that still ran through her. “Not for this.”
She pulled back just enough to look at him, and the vulnerability in her expression twisted in his chest. This was Kate without her armor—no sharp edges or defensive walls. Just a woman terrified of losing the person she loved most.
“I don’t know what to do.” Her voice broke on the last word. “I’ve always known what to do. But this—Thomas, I can’t fix this. I can’t make her better. I can’t even be with her.”
“I know.” He brushed a strand of tear-dampened hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “But you’re not alone in it anymore. You have me. You have my family. We’re all here, Kate. We’re all fighting for her too.”
Her eyes searched his face, like she wasn’t sure his words were true. Whatever she found must have satisfied her, because she nodded slowly.
“I’m so tired.” Her shoulders sank with the words, as though acknowledging them released some of the load she carried. “I haven’t slept since— I keep thinking if I close my eyes, something will happen. Someone will come tell me she’s—” Her voice caught. “That I missed my chance to say goodbye.”
“You won’t.” He stood, drawing her up with him. She swayed, exhaustion evident in every line of her body.
“Come on.” He kept one arm around her waist as he guided her toward the bed. “You need rest.”
“I can’t—”
“You can.” His tone left no room for argument. “Lie down.”
She didn’t fight him as he drew back the quilts and eased her onto the mattress. Her body seemed to fold in on itself as she sank onto the bed, as though all the tension holding her upright had finally given way.
He pulled the covers up over her shoulders, tucking them around her with all the care his clumsy hands could manage.
She watched him through half-closed eyes, some emotion flickering there he couldn’t quite name.
“I’ll be right here.” He settled into the chair beside the bed, close enough to touch if she reached for him. “I’ll wake you the moment anything changes. The second Robert sends word. I promise.”
“Thomas…”
“Sleep, Kate.” He took her hand, threading his fingers through hers. “I’ve got you.”
Her eyes drifted closed. For a long moment, she lay still, her breathing shallow and uneven. Then gradually—so gradually he almost missed it—her body began to relax. The tension bled from her shoulders. Her grip on his hand loosened, though she didn’t let go.
He let himself watch the rise and fall of her chest, feel the steady pulse in her hand against his.
The light shifted as the afternoon wore on. Eventually someone would come—Mrs. Wang with dinner, or Robert with news from Clara’s room. Eventually they would have to face whatever came next.
But for now, there was only this. The warmth of his wife’s hand in his. The trust she now honored him with.
And for the first time in as long as he could remember, he wasn’t running from anything.
He was exactly where he wanted to be. No matter where he went—including California—as long as he had this woman, he’d be home.