Mountain Charm (23 page)

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you.”

His eyes never left her face. Holding his breath, he watched Angelina’s every grimace and felt every clutch of her fingers against his skin. He moved slowly, gently, until finally, the creases in her forehead started to fade, and her grasp on his shoulders began to relax.

Sex wasn’t new territory for Dylan, but as he made love to the woman of his dreams, he couldn’t help but think
this
should have been his first time, too. Every breathless whisper, every frantic touch, and every quiet breath vibrated through him, and when Angelina cried out his name, he felt a feral sense of pride, knowing he was the only man who would ever touch her this way, and his would be the only name she ever screamed.

Dylan was the first one to wake the next morning. His eyes hadn’t even opened before he was pulling her closer, despite the fact they were already nestled in each other’s arms. They’d fallen asleep just like this—with her back pressed to his chest and his arms draped around her. Burying his nose in her hair, he inhaled deeply, loving the scent of her. Of them.

He frowned as he felt his body respond to her closeness and warmth. Despite his intentions to be as tender as possible, he was sure she would need time to recuperate. They had made love twice last night. Hours had passed between each, and the second time had taken much longer than the first. Initially, Dylan had been too concerned with hurting her to really love her the way he’d wanted. The second time, however, Angelina had climbed on top of him, and he’d been more than willing to let her take control. They explored and discovered and even laughed, and when she finally fell asleep in his arms, he had stayed awake for hours, listening to her soft snores and loving the feel of her skin against his.

Angelina continued to sleep as he lowered the blanket, letting his fingertips drift along her spine. It was the one part of her body that had been kept hidden from him in the darkness, and he smiled as he explored the arch of her back. His eyes drifted lower, and that was when he saw her tattoo.

Dylan smiled, remembering the night when she’d refused to let him see it, and now he understood why. It was right on the curve of her hip, hidden discreetly each and every day. The design was a simple one of two small, intersecting hearts surrounded by vines. His fingers caressed the flesh as he wondered what it symbolized to her.

“You found my secret,” Angelina said.

“Yes, I did.” Dylan lowered his head, placing a gentle kiss along the ink. “Good morning, baby.”

“Good morning.”

He traced the outline of the hearts. “What does it mean?”

Angelina laughed quietly. “Maddie and I got matching tattoos when we turned eighteen. At the time, it represented us, but we also knew it could mean something more. Two intersecting hearts can signify friendship. Lovers. Husband and wife. Parent and child. The possibilities were endless, and that’s why we chose it. We liked that it could symbolize so many different things. Our past. Our present. Our future.”

Dylan crawled back up her body, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close to his chest. Angelina turned her head in search of his lips, and she sighed softly when she found them.

“You’re my future,” he murmured. “You believe that, don’t you?”

Angelina placed her palm against his cheek.

“I’m starting to, yeah.”

They lay together, enjoying the quiet and warmth, until Angelina’s rumbling stomach shattered the silence.

Dylan laughed. “Hungry?”

“Obviously.” With a giggle, she turned around in his arms. “Checkout is at eleven. We should order room service and then get packed.”

He nuzzled her nose. “I don’t want to leave.”

“Neither do I.”

Dylan leaned in to kiss her just as his cell vibrated on the night stand.

“Not important,” he murmured against her lips.

“It might be.”

Sighing heavily, Dylan reached for his phone, not bothering to look down at the screen before barking hello at whoever dared to interrupt his perfect morning. He closed his eyes as David Murray’s voice washed over him.

“Celia’s in the hospital,” David said.

Angelina managed to hold back her tears as Dr. Campbell explained that anemia wasn’t unusual for chemotherapy patients, and this would explain why her mother had been suffering from fatigue and dizziness over the past few days.

Angelina and Dylan exchanged confused looks.

“We didn’t know,” Angelina murmured guiltily. “I mean, she’s been very nauseated, but she didn’t tell us . . .”

“She told Mr. Murray,” the doctor said. “That’s why he brought her in. Celia wasn’t a bit happy about it, either, but she didn’t have the strength to fight him. It was a good thing he did, too. If she’d waited much longer, she might have required transfusions. As it is, we’re going to prescribe some medication and monitor her closely until we get her hemoglobin levels closer to where they need to be. And we’ll have to stop chemo for a while to give her body a chance to recover.”

Angelina’s head was swimming.
Now we’re stopping chemo?

“For how long?” Dylan asked.

“We’re not sure yet. Let’s see how she responds, okay?” Dr. Campbell placed a reassuring hand on Angelina’s shoulder. “You can see her if you like.”

Angelina nodded numbly, and Dylan took her hand, leading her down the hallway that led to Celia’s room. Maybe it was the smell of antiseptic that seemed to permeate the hospital walls, but nausea hit her like a lightning bolt, and she gripped Dylan’s arm for support.

“Are you okay?”

Angelina nodded as they continued down the hallway.

Her mom had been sicker than she’d let on, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why. Celia hadn’t wanted anything to keep Angelina from attending the wedding.

“Here she is,” Dylan said, pointing toward the room number. When they stepped inside, neither of them were surprised to find David sitting at Celia’s side, holding her hand in his. He offered them a tired smile. Celia seemed to be resting. Her eyes were closed, and Angelina couldn’t help but notice how pale her mother appeared.

Angelina wanted to cry.
Needed
to cry.

But she couldn’t. She had to stay strong.

For now, anyway.

David gently placed Celia’s hand on the bed before rising to his feet. Angelina walked straight to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and thanking him for taking such good care of her mom.

“She’s very special to me,” David whispered.

“I know she is.”

David offered Angelina the chair next to her mom’s bed, and she took it gratefully. Her head was still spinning, but at least the nausea was subsiding. She heard Dylan ask David if he’d like some coffee, and she was thankful. He knew she needed this time with her mom without an audience.

“Please don’t go too far.”

“We won’t.” Dylan leaned down and kissed her forehead before taking David’s arm and leading him out into the hall.

Angelina’s eyes raked over her mom’s body. Reaching for Celia’s hand, she noticed the coldness of her mother’s skin and the faint blue shade of her fingernails. She knew enough about anemia to realize these were common symptoms, but that did little to relieve the knot of tension in Angelina’s stomach.

Had her mom’s nails been blue for days? How had she missed that?

“I wish there was some magic spell . . . some miraculous herb that could ease your pain. I wish my hands could do whatever they were designed to do. If there was something, you’d tell me, right? If there was some ancient spell that could make this go away, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

Angelina closed her eyes as the tears began to fall.

“I would,” her mom’s voice rasped, and Angelina’s eyes snapped open. “If there was any way to ease your suffering, don’t you think I would?”

“It’s not my suffering I’m worried about.”

Celia offered her daughter a weak smile.

“Why didn’t you tell me how sick you were?” Angelina asked. “You needed me.”

“Maddie needed you, and David took very good care of me. Besides, I knew this weekend would be important for you and Dylan, and I wouldn’t have wanted you to miss a moment of it.”

Despite her teary eyes, Angelina smiled.

“I told him I love him.”

Celia’s smile lit up her entire face.

“That’s wonderful, Angelina. I believe he needed to hear that.”

“I believe he did, too. I shouldn’t have waited so long.”

Celia squeezed her daughter’s hand. It was just a gentle pressure, but it was comforting.

“And I shouldn’t have hidden my symptoms from you. I’m sorry I did that, even if my intentions were good.”

“Please don’t do that again. I need to know everything. I can’t take care of you if I don’t.”

“I won’t,” Celia promised.

Angelina spotted a bruise that had formed on her mother’s arm, and she placed her finger along the purple blemish.

“It doesn’t hurt,” her mom said. “It’s just part of it.”

“I know. I could try to heal it.”

Celia laughed softly. “Better not. The doctor might get suspicious if my bruises begin to fade too quickly.”

Angelina grinned. She hadn’t thought of that.

“Besides, healing isn’t just done with the hands,” Celia told her. “You can heal with your spirit. You can heal with your heart. That’s what you do for me. Seeing you happy and in love with a wonderful man. Watching how devoted he is to you. And yes, we can give credit to the spell for bringing him into your life, but magic can only do so much. It’s love, Angelina. It’s love that keeps him here. Never doubt that.”

Celia closed her eyes. Her breathing evened out and Angelina was sure she had drifted off to sleep, but suddenly, her mom’s fragile voice filled the air once more.

“You heal me every day. You just can’t see it. But trust me, you do.”

“But will it be enough?”

Her mom’s eyes drifted open, and she gave her daughter a watery smile.

“Yes, Angelina, I believe it will be enough.”

Something passed between them—a brief moment of realization and understanding— and Angelina felt her spirits soar.

“There will be healing, Angelina—for all of us.”

Celia’s eyes closed, and her soft snores filled the air.

Overwhelmed with relief, Angelina buried her face in her hands and wept as her mom’s words echoed in her ears.

There will be healing.

Dylan was surprised when Angelina asked him to take her home to Maple Ridge. Sure, Celia’s hospital was just an hour away in Knoxville, but he’d expected Angelina to demand a cot. The doctor had explained that Celia would most likely sleep the rest of the night, and Mr. Murray had offered to stay at the hospital, giving Angelina and Dylan the chance to go home if they wished.

When he and David had returned to the room, Angelina was weeping while Celia slept peacefully. Dylan had no idea what had transpired in the fifteen minutes they’d stepped out to get coffee, but whatever it was had convinced Angelina it was okay to return home for the night. She was smiling a little too brightly despite her tears, but he would never complain about her smiles, especially after the day she had endured.