Fiona Cromwell sighed tiredly as she followed the mountain road toward her home.
It had been a long day.
A good day ….
Until her last call …. When she had had to tell an elderly patient that the tests she had done a few weeks ago had come back positive for breast cancer.
The older woman had taken the news in her stride and she and Fiona had sat in her big old fashioned farmhouse kitchen, drinking coffee and talking about life and love ….
The sorrows and joys, disappointment, regrets and surprises, good and bad that made life worth living.
After leaving Alice Landry, Fiona had found a little used lay-by on the mountain road home, pulled in and cried her eyes out for the best part of half an hour, before she felt able to go on with her journey.
As she approached the last incline before the turn off to her cabin, Fiona passed a police cruiser on its way back down the mountain. The driver waved cheerfully at her and she recognised him as Dan McEwan. She also thought that the man seated beside him, grinning broadly, looked vaguely familiar ….
But she couldn't place him ….
She slowed the Jeep down, wondering if the Chief of Police would stop to pass the time of day with her.
Since that morning in her office, Dan McEwan had been nothing but friendly and polite, no more hints of any kind of romantic longings.
Relaxed and at ease in her company, and at long last, Fiona realised that they were developing the kind of friendship that she had longed for when moving to Pine Valley.
She also had him to thank for Mona Baker's turning up one day, while she had been lying helpless in the hospital, hooked up to IV antibiotics, bearing flowers and an apology.
It turned out that somehow Mona had learned about Fiona's career in Vietnam and had been angry and bitter that a slip of a girl like her had survived, when her son, Mathew, had been killed within weeks of being shipped out to that jungle hellhole.
Dan McEwan's 'little word' had finally made Mona realise just how badly she had been treating the young medic, and although Fiona suspected that the two women would never be bosom buddies, at least now the other woman respected Fiona.
However, Dan didn't slow down, just carried on down the mountain, and so Fiona shrugged absently and pointed the Jeep in the direction of home.
It looked like Dan had gotten himself a new friend.
Well good for him.
The cabin came into view at last, and she let out a long, tired sigh as she parked in her usual spot and turned off the engine.
Home at last.
Her refuge.
The view truly was spectacular.
The sky was an endless pale blue. For as far as they eye could see …. Cloudless ….
The sun still hot even this late in the day.
And the mountains …. Purple and blue and crowned with white ….
Soon they would be in shadow ….
Silhouettes ….
Standing out starkly against the riot of colour that would paint the sky at sunset.
Yellows and golds, reds and pinks and purples all merging together setting the sky on fire ….
So romantic ….
It was such a pity that she didn't have someone to share it with ….
Any of it ….
Listening to Alice Landry talk about her life this afternoon …. The men she had loved …. The babies she had raised …. And the ones she had lost …. The good times and the bad …. had been just a little too painful ….
Reminding Fiona of all the things she had missed out on ….
Turned her back on ….
Allowed to pass her by ….
Hitting just a little too close to home ….
And now it was too late ….
Such a waste ….
Her life was what she had made of it …. Because of the choices she had made.
No point in regretting those choices now.
Just because of a chance encounter with a stranger.
She ran her fingers through her hair absently and allowed her fingers to rub gently at her temples where a headache was just beginning to make its self felt.
She'd feel a whole lot better after a cup of hot coffee and something to eat.
And a good night's sleep …. A little voice nagged at the back of her mind.
Little hope of that!
Aspirin first.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the rear view mirror …. And pulled a face.
She looked like hell ….
Again ….
Blue smudges beneath her red rimmed eyes, testimony to the sleepless nights she had been having lately.
Her peaceful nights at first disturbed by the hacking cough and chest pains that she hadn't been able to shake off after catching cold that night out on the mountain.
A chest infection that persisted, despite several courses of oral antibiotics and at least two spells in Oak Valley Memorial Hospital for IV antibiotics in the last three months.
Her colleague at the hospital had threatened to keep her in longer than a week the last time, if she did not promise to take things easy and take her meds and take better care of herself.
He knew she wasn't eating.
Sleeping.
He had also warned her that if she didn't do as she was told, she was heading for full blown asthma.
Something they both knew could be very serious and in such a remote location, possibly even fatal.
That had sobered Fiona enough for her to take a couple of weeks off from her duties at the clinic and she had stayed at the cabin, forcing herself to eat chicken soup, to sleep late in the mornings and retire early at night, and the remainder of the time she had spent going for invigorating walks, filling her ailing lungs with the cool, pure mountain air.
But then ….
She had grown restless and had returned to work, desperate for something to fill her time, and take her mind off other, unwanted, unsettling thoughts.
And then ….
Her sleep had been disturbed by the most vivid of dreams ….
In glorious Technicolour and Stereophonic sound no less ….
Both terrifying ….
And ….
To her eternal embarrassment ….
Incredibly erotic ….
Asleep and awake she was being haunted ….
By Stringfellow Hawke ….
His wonderful, handsome face popping into her mind when she least expected it ….
Catching her unawares ….
It had to stop ….
She couldn't go on making a fool of herself over a man who didn't even know that she existed.
She was tired.
And a little depressed over Alice Landry ….
That was all.
It was always tough having to break sad news like that.
It would all look different tomorrow.
A new day ….
Full of new possibilities ….
She pulled herself together and got out of the Jeep, grabbing her medical bag from off the back seat, and then after locking the Jeep, began to walk toward the cabin.
Home sweet home ….
As she came around the corner, Fiona suddenly became aware of movement, that there was someone standing on her front porch …. And she came to an abrupt halt, dropping the medical bag on the ground beside her.
At first she thought she was imagining things.
After all, she had just been thinking about him.
Now her mind was conveniently conjuring him up.
She must be going mad ….
"Hello Fee," he stepped out of the shadows and away from the porch now and she got a better look at him.
Lord …. but he was a wonderful sight for sore eyes.
And he was real. Not an apparition.
She wasn't losing her grip on reality after all ….
She wasn't going mad ….
Oh God ….
He looked so good ….
Just as beautiful as she remembered ….
"Hawke?"
"I didn't mean to startle you," he used the crutches to swing himself forward now, closing the gap between them.
"What are you doing here?" She stammered, willing herself to move toward him, but finding that her legs were paralysed.
He came to a stop before her, a little breathless from the effort of using the crutches.
And then he smiled and Fiona thought her heart was going to burst.
He looked good.
Well.
Better than the last time she had seen him …. And then she looked at him with the experienced eyes of a doctor, and knew that all was not as well as she had first thought.
He looked tired.
Still plagued by the nightmares …. She couldn't help wondering ….
Well …. She knew what that was like.
He looked thinner too.
So, he wasn't eating either ….
"How are you?"
"Good. Thanks to you …."
His voice was deeper than she recalled, low and very sexy, his deep baby blue eyes raking over her, taking in her pale, tired face and slender frame.
"And you? Chief McEwan said you'd been sick …."
Gee, thanks Dan ….
Was that concern she saw in his eyes now?
"It's nothing," she brushed it off quickly.
The look he gave her told her that he wasn't buying it …. Telling her that he knew the truth.
"The Chief said you'd been in the hospital …."
"A head cold and a persistent chest infection that took a while to clear up," she explained quickly. "But I'm fine now …." She assured. "So …. What brings you here?"
Quickly changing the subject.
Too quickly …. Or so Hawke thought.
"Don't you know?" He regarded her with steady, piercing blue eyes, his voice low, throbbing intensely, hypnotising her.
"You …."
He said simply, closing the small distance between them with one last step then released the crutch he had been holding in his right hand, letting it fall to the ground as he reached out to touch her cheek very lightly.
"You are what brings me here, Fiona," he told her earnestly. "I can't get you out of my mind," He added softly. "I thought I had dreamed you,"
He smiled again, his fingers tracing the delicate curve of her cheek, moving so that his big, calloused, work roughened hand could cup her face and his thumb could caress her soft cheek.
"I thought I would go mad if I didn't see you again …."
"Oh String …." She gasped, feeling her cheek burn where his hand touched her and tears suddenly sting in her eyes.
"You'll probably think I'm crazy, Fee …. But …. I love you …." He told her on a long, ragged, anguished sigh, the hand cupping her face drawing her closer to him, so that he could lean down and press his lips tenderly to hers.
When he drew away from her a moment later, tears were running freely down her face and she was blushing very beautifully ….
And smiling.
He used his thumb to gently wipe a tear from her cheek.
"I don't know how …. When …. Why …. I just know I do …. I love you …."
There were tears shimmering in his deep blue eyes now too, making them even more blue.
"And I don't know what that means. For either of us …." He confessed in a ragged voice.
"If you're crazy …. It must be catching …." She sobbed and giggled at the same time and he regarded her with puzzlement.
"I love you too …." She confessed, reaching out with shaking fingers to push a stray lock of his wonderfully fine, baby soft, rich honey coloured hair away from his brow, finding soft, delicate new pink skin, scar tissue, from the head wound she had stitched for him all those weeks ago.
"I thought I'd never see you again …." More tears rolled unhindered down her cheeks. "Poor baby," she stretched up on tip toe and pressed her lips to the tender new flesh.
"I love you …." She said again. "All I wanted was a chance to tell you. It doesn't matter what happens next. I couldn't …. didn't dare …. think about that. Couldn't believe …. Didn't dare hope …. that you might feel the same way about me. I just hoped that one day I would get a chance to let you know. I needed you to know …."
"Me too …." He confessed.
"I believed that you needed to know …." She sighed softly. "It seemed important somehow …. That you know that someone, somewhere cared for you …. Loved you …."
He nodded gently in understanding.
"Hold me …." Fiona said suddenly, in a soft voice, a shy yet wicked smile curving at her lips, a shiver running down her spine in anticipation of the moment when he would take her into his arms for the first time, and she would feel his strong, loving arms around her.
"Are you propositioning me, Major?" He threw her a lopsided grin.
"Cashing in that rain check. You owe me. Remember?" She smiled shyly again, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively and he couldn't help grinning down at her.
Hawke didn't need to be asked twice.
Dropping the other crutch, he pulled her into his arms, holding her as tightly as he dared, savouring the wonderful warmth of her body against his own as she snuggled against his shoulder, her arms twining around his waist, turning her face toward him to press soft warm kisses through the thin fabric of his shirt ….
The taut column of his neck ….
"Ribs all healed?" She gently squeezed her arms around his middle.
"Mmmmm" Was all he could say in response to her question, desperately wanting to feel the warmth of those lips against his naked flesh instead of through his shirt.
"And your leg?"
"It's good. Better than good. The doctors in LA tell me that you did a terrific job. That I was damned lucky not to loose it. That I was damned lucky, period. I'll never be able to thank you enough for that," he told her in a voice made rough by emotion. "For saving my life. I owe you so much …."
"You don't owe me a thing, Stringfellow Hawke, but you're welcome." She whispered softly into the thin fabric of his shirt.
"Fee …." He spoke at last, hating to break the spell, but there were things that still needed to be said.
"Mmmm?" She lifted her head slightly to gaze lovingly up into his face and it was almost his undoing.
"I don't know what …. If any …. Future we might have …. Together …. But there are things that you need to know …."
"I love you and you love me. That's all I really need to know," she rested her cheek against his chest now and heard the steady, rhythmical pounding of his heart. "The rest will take care of its self …."
"Fee, I'm serious. There are things I have done …. Things I might be called upon to do again in the future …. That you should know …."
"I don't care."
She drew away from him a little then, but not out of the circle of his embrace, and looked up in to his beloved face, which was wearing an expression of such consternation and worry.
"But …." He began to protest.
"You could be an axe murderer for all I care," she slipped her arms from around his waist and reached up with both hands to cup his face. "I love you. I didn't think that I would ever love anyone again. I'm not going to let this chance slip away. Whatever it is, String. I'll deal with it. I'll learn to live with it. Its part of you, what makes you the man you are …. The man I love, so it can't be that bad," she reasoned and he could see in her eyes that she meant it.
"I'm not an axe murderer …." He smiled softly down at her. "But I have had to do some things I'm not proud of …."
"You were a Soldier. You had to do what you had to do, to stay alive. I understand that," she sighed softly. "And if you are still having to do what needs to be done to stay alive, I understand that too, String. I understand that you are very important to our government. Whatever it is you do for them …. I know that they value you a great deal. I learned that lesson when your friend in white railroaded me. When he waltzed in and took over my clinic. Whatever it is you do, I don't want to know. I already know what I need to know. I know that you must have your reasons, very good reasons for doing it. I think it must have something to do with your brother. I can't …. Won't ask you to give it up. I don't have that right," she let out a soft sigh as she rested her cheek back against his shoulder.
"Fee …. What I do could put you in a great deal of danger too …." He confessed. "A lot of innocent people have already died because of me …."
Fiona lifted her head to look up at him, surprised by the look she found on his face.
Self revulsion ….
Guilt ….
"Is that what you meant when you said you were jinxed? " She asked gently and he nodded.
"Hell, I've already put your life in danger, " his voice was very low and throbbing with emotion. "You've been sicker than you told me …."
Fiona pulled away from him, reluctantly, as she felt his body shudder against her own, and looked up into his worried blue eyes, suddenly wondering what it was he saw when he looked at her.
Did he think that she had some terrible terminal illness? That she had somehow developed something life threatening, by virtue of the fact that she had involved herself in saving his life?
He believed what he was saying.
She could see it so clearly in his beloved face.
He really believed it.
And she knew that she had to be honest with him.
"String, I'm fine," she assured him. "I had a chest infection that wouldn't clear up …. And so I had to go into hospital a couple of times for IV antibiotics, but my life was never really in any danger …. And if you think I'm going to let you try to take the blame for something that was no-one's fault, except my own then you're crazier than I thought," She regarded him with a steady green gaze now.
"I get sick, just like everyone else, String. I have a good immune system, normally, but, sometimes …. "
"But you look so …. Sick …." He gulped.
"You don't look so great yourself, hot shot!" She shot back. "Gee, you know you are really gonna have to work on a new line of compliments …." She chuckled. "I still haven't forgotten that you threw up over me, and then told me I looked like hell!" She grinned, but he refused to smile, still looking lost and anguished.
"Sometimes, I don't take care of myself. Well, not as well as I should. I get down …. Depressed, and I don't eat enough. Sound familiar?"
She confessed and nudged him gently in the ribs, mindful that he might still be sore from where she had had to insert the chest drain.
"And recently, I haven't been sleeping very well …. How the hell could I sleep, when all I could think about was you! …. When every time I closed my eyes …. all I could see was your precious face!"
He finally lowered his gaze, a sheepish expression crossing his face then, and she knew that he understood exactly what she was saying, because he had been there too.
"But you could still have gotten hurt crawling around that mangled wreck trying to save me …."
"Sure, and I could have tripped off the kerb the next day and fallen under a bus …." She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Life is full of risks …. Some acceptable …. Some that we chose, because if we don't take a risk now and again, good things pass us by. Strangers never get a chance to become friends …. And people could die unnecessarily …." she reasoned, but she could tell from his anguished expression that he wasn't buying it.
"What I did, I chose to do. I have no regrets, String. I did what I had to do, and it has brought me nothing but …."
"Misery …" He cut in.
"Oh dammit, will you stop with the negative attitude!" She snapped then, losing patience with him."It has brought me nothing but heartache and despair ….. and joy and elation and …. And more happiness than I ever hoped to feel again …." Her voice suddenly trailed away.
He still wasn't buying it.
He was determined to take the blame on his shoulders.
"Almost everyone I have ever cared for has died …." He let out a ragged breath and she could see that he was in a great deal of pain and torment over it.
"So tell me," she invited in a soft voice then, knowing that to understand him better, she also had to understand the things that tormented him.
This was an old pain, rooted too deeply. No amount of reasoning was going to change his perspective.
"Help me to understand …."
"My parents …."
He let out a long, ragged sigh, and it was easy to see the pain etched into his beloved face.
"They drowned in a boating accident when I was a kid …. I was with them, I should have died too, but somehow, I survived. Before I went to Nam," he raced on without taking a breath. "I was dating a very lovely girl …. There was a car crash. I was driving. I walked away with barely a scratch …. She died …. And then there was St John. My brother. We were together on that last mission in 'Nam. He should have gotten out too, but I got wounded and somehow …. In all the confusion, he got left behind …."
He paused for a moment then, realising that he was bordering on the hysterical, trying to reign in his emotions before they snowballed out of control.
"And then, not so very long ago, just when I thought I had hardened myself to caring about anyone …. I met a girl. Gabrielle. She was smart and beautiful and funny and courageous. Somehow she managed to get through my defences …. And I started to care for her. She promised me that this time it would be different. That she wouldn't leave me …. But then …. She was murdered …." He concluded on a sob and gulped in air then to replenish his burning lungs.
Fiona gently began to rub her hand soothingly up and down his back, regarding him with a steady gaze, without revulsion or fear.
And he realised that she wasn't judging him.
She wanted to understand him.
Because she loved him.
"And you think that you are a jinx because you cared for all of these people? Because you loved them …. and they died?"
He was amazed at her perception.
She really was an exceptional woman.
"You feel bad because they died and you survived," he nodded. "Oh String, what you're feeling is normal, and very understandable …. And my colleagues and I in the medical profession are coming across this more and more, especially since Nam," she explained gently. "It has a name, String …. It's called Survivors guilt. And what it tells me about you, is that you are a caring, sensitive human being, " her big green eyes implored him to believe her, to trust her ….
As he had done once before.
"It doesn't change the fact that it just keeps happening. Every woman who ever got close to me …. Every woman I ever loved …. Died …. My love could get you killed …."
His eyes welled with huge tears, and the anguish in his voice tore at Fiona's heart.
Was there any way to get through to him?
To make him realise that he wasn't responsible for the deaths of all the people that he had loved?
That he had been truly unfortunate to experience so much grief in his young life …. But that none of it had been his fault. None of it had been because of him.
"But you didn't kill them, String …." She reasoned gently, still rubbing his back, now in slow, soothing, circular movements. "I don't believe that you can kill someone just by loving them …." She assured him. "Not by love alone. Other things, destructive things caused by loving someone too much. Things like jealousy or obsession or madness. They can kill. But not simply caring for another human being. Like I care for you …. And you care for me …."
She looked up into his beloved face with steady green eyes and kept her voice low and soft and even.
"String, you can't go on making yourself responsible for the deaths of the people you have loved. Your love didn't kill them …. And if I know anything about you …. Them …. then I believe that they would all have been honoured …. Blessed …. To know that you loved them, that you touched there lives. I know I do."
She paused briefly for a moment, wanting to be sure that she had not lost his attention.
"People die, String …. All the time, for whatever reasons …. The secret is living each day to the fullest and loving people with all your heart, every day, and not being afraid to show it …. Say it ….. Feel it …. So that they know that they are loved and cherished …. And savouring the precious memories that come along with loving someone and being loved in return …."
"You have to know that if we are to have any kind of a future together. There is real danger in being involved with me …." He insisted.
"Okay. So now you've told me. Now I know. Does it make any difference? Hell no!" She told him defiantly. "But, while we're laying it all on the line, bearing our souls, you should know that there is a real danger in being involved with me too, String. I'm a doctor. Every day I come into contact with all kinds of sickness. Some things that we know how to deal with. And lots more that we don't. New viruses. Nasty things that we don't have a clue about …. Old enemies we thought we had eradicated," She pointed out softly, reaching up with her thumbs now to gently stroke away the tears that had slipped down on to his rugged cheeks.
"And then there are times I am called upon to do things that most sane people wouldn't dream about," she smiled softly.
"People do stupid things. They get themselves into all kinds of trouble, and when they get hurt, I have to do what I can to help them, regardless of the risks and dangers to myself. You learned that first hand, that night on the mountain," she reminded him in a soft voice. "Does that make a difference to how you feel about me?"
"No …." His piecing blue eyes bore into her and his arms tightened around her waist.
"Can you accept that? Can you live with that? It's what I do. It's what I choose to do. It's a big part of who I am. What makes me, me …."
"Of course I can …."
"You have to know, love, that I would always do all that I could to protect you, to make sure that those things didn't harm you," she cupped his beloved face and regarded him with a steady gaze.
"And I know that you will do everything you possibly can to make sure that I am safe. Protected. Because that's the kind of man you are," she stroked his cheeks lovingly with her thumbs once more and smiled reassuringly up at him, then stretched up to press her lips briefly against his.
"No more regrets. No recriminations. You have to learn to forgive yourself for surviving when those you loved didn't. You have to learn to believe that you have every right to the happiness that so much of the world takes for granted. The past has helped to make us the people that we are, String, but it doesn't have to spoil the future for us. We can both move beyond those demons …." She assured him softly.
"Fee …. "
He let out a long, ragged sigh, and she could see that he was trying hard to come to terms with what she had said and the way that he had felt for so many years …. And she could not help wondering if he would ever be able to reconcile the two.
"I love you …. " He let out a soft groan.
"Say that again …." She grinned up at him.
"Why?" He frowned, his mind still in turmoil, unable to understand why she refused to understand the seriousness of what he was trying to get across to her.
"Because it has to be at least ten seconds since you said it last …. Dope …. Because I like to hear you say it …. In fact, I don't think I'll ever get enough of hearing you say it …."
"I love you …. But …. you should know that I'm not the easiest man to get close to," he confessed hoarsely "I'm not the easiest man to be around. I brood …." He let out a long ragged sigh then. "I'm moody …."
"You don't say!" She chuckled, recalling the way his mood had changed when she had asked him about who St John was.
"I don't find it easy to open up. To let people in. Even Dominic …. And he's been there for me all my life. It drives him crazy …."
"Is that so?"
"Uh huh …."
"You're not doing such a bad job right now, my love," she smiled enigmatically and continued to caress his cheeks with gentle fingers.
"But, I do understand what you mean. I get that way myself sometimes," she confessed once more. "Lost in the past …. Turning the guilt and blame in on myself …."
Hawke nodded in understanding.
"Nobody said it would be easy, love. It could make life very …. Interesting …. But we have similar experiences …. We've seen some of the same horrors …. Been touched by the same evil …. And we each have an idea of what the other is thinking …. Feeling …. I'm not the easiest person to live with either. That's why I live alone …. But …." She suddenly decided that they had gotten way too serious and it was time to lighten the mood.
"The times they are a changing …."
She sang the Bob Dylan lyric tunelessly and grinned at the pained expression that suddenly crossed his handsome face.
"If you can live with that, I'll live with your moodiness!" She chuckled happily.
"That could be a tall order …." Hawke hissed through his teeth. "I'm known as something of a music lover. I even play the cello …."
"Oh no …." She groaned. "Then I guess we're doomed, Charlie Brown …."
She caressed his rugged cheeks with her thumbs once more, revelling in the sensation of drowning in his deep blue eyes.
"There is no such thing as a jinx, Stringfellow Hawke. But, if you are going to try to find excuses for any relationship between us not to work, at least make them believable. Like, I'm way too old for you …."
"Not true," he protested, bowing his head carefully and touching his lips to hers. "How old are you, anyway?" He growled throatily against her lips.
"Don't you know that you should never ask a lady her age?"
"You started it …."
"As old as my tongue and a little bit older than my teeth …."
"Cute. Anything else?"
"You live in LA and I live here …."
"We could always move to Phoenix …." He pressed his lips lightly to hers once more. "And?" He coaxed.
"You love to fly. You were born to soar above the clouds …. But I hate to fly," she confessed, trying to smother a smile and to hide the delicious shiver that was dancing up and down her spine with every touch of his lips to her own.
"Really? He gazed down at her earnestly and she thought that she would drown in those deep blue eyes.
"Mmmm …. Makes my teeth ache," she chuckled delightfully.
"Then have them all out …." He growled and planted his lips firmly against hers. "Now shut up, and kiss me …."
"Is that an order?" She asked against his lips.
"What do you think …."
"Ah shoot,"
She sighed softly, surrendering herself to the wonderful exploration of his mouth against her own.
"I love you, Stringfellow Hawke, and that is all that matters," she said at last when they parted, breathless and flushed and grinning like idiots, String holding on to her tightly so that he could keep his balance.
"Really. It's all that matters. Let's not make any rash promises. From this moment on there are no expectations. A clean slate. For both of us. Please don't put obstacles up in our way before we've even had a chance to make a start," she advised sagely now.
She gently guided his face down towards her own once more and kissed him with such passion and affection, urgency and tenderness that Stringfellow Hawke thought that his heart would burst with love and pride.
He gathered her closer, twining his fingers in her silky soft hair as he kissed her until she was breathless ….
And then he kissed her some more ….
And then some more ….
Unable to get enough of her ….
The taste of her lips ….
The warmth of her body against his own ….
Lost ….
Revelling in the sensation of not knowing where he ended and she began ….
He had waited such a long time for this moment.
He wasn't going to waste a precious second of it.
And in this respect, he had found an equal in Fiona Cromwell, as she clung to him and kissed him with equal need and joy and passion.
She was right.
He didn't need to complicate things before they had even begun.
Life was complicated enough.
But maybe …. Just maybe ….
Together ….
They would be strong enough to face whatever came their way …. Overcome whatever obstacles life threw at them ….
With love ….
And faith ….
And trust in each other.
He didn't know what the future held ….
For any of them ….
But it suddenly became very clear to him that all he should really care about was the present.
The here and now.
And with Fiona at his side, Stringfellow Hawke knew that he could learn to live each new day …. With all its risks and complications …. And joys ….
As it came ….
And to let all their tomorrows take care of themselves ….