The ground’s still running with water but the sun has come out and the daytime woods spring to life with birdsong and a warmer breeze.
Hand in hand James and I make it back to the stone stairs, familiar again in the daylight and reminding me of snapshots in my mind from my childhood.
“Did you mean what you said?” James asks, stopping before we reach the bottom of the stairs, the flashing lights of the sheriff and an ambulance in the distance.
“About what?” I ask, blushing and gnawing my lip, trying to remember everything I must’ve screamed out while he claimed me as his.
“About wanting a family?” he asks, blushing a little himself and looking at his feet.
My hand strays to my belly, and I wonder how I’d feel if it was any bigger. Wondering if James would still love me.
“I want what you want,” I tell him, and not just saying that to agree with him because I really do.
“I’m glad,” he says, taking one step down so he can kiss me before we’re within sight of anyone else.
He moves away and I reach out for his hand, slipping mine around two of his huge fingers and squeezing them.
“I don’t care who sees,” I tell him. “I love you, James Silverthorn. I’m yours now and the world’s just gonna have to get used to that.”
“I love you, Krystal,” he tells me again, lifting my hand to kiss it. “More than I’ll ever be able to say.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
James
“I think there’s someone who’d like to know you’re safe too,” I tell her, pointing my chin towards the stretcher being loaded into the ambulance.
Krystal dashes over to see her dad and I have a pow-wow with the local Sheriff.
“I gotta apologize, Mr. Uh… Silverhorn,” he drawls, and I don’t even bother to correct him for mispronouncing my name.
After today’s efforts, I might even change it by deed poll to Silverhorn, who knows?
“For what?” I ask him.
“For not taking Mayor Newland’s story serious enough. Krystal could have been hurt up there and her Dad in a world more trouble if it hadn’t been for you.”
I frown, shaking my head. “I only did what anyone would do,” I tell him truthfully.
And I would’ve crushed anyone who tried to get to Krystal first.
The Sheriff’s ears prick up when he hears Krystal excitedly telling her dad about the cougar attack.
Bob groans, barely conscious, and is loaded properly into the ambulance before it drives away.
“Cougar?” The Sheriff asks Krystal with some skepticism, and there it is.
I have to spend the next hour hearing the whole account except for the part where I claimed Krystal as my own, as the Sheriff shakes his head, whistles, and finally throws his hat on the ground before he shakes my hand.
“I owe you more than an apology Silverhorn, you’re gonna get a god damned award for bravery,” he exclaims.
Krystal mouths the word Silverhorn with a questioning face and we both try not to laugh, humoring the Sheriff until he gives us the all-clear to leave.
“I’ll run Krystal home,” I tell him, “we can arrange a tow truck for the other car once the road dries up, maybe?” I offer.
He salutes me with a broad grin and still shaking his head, he drives off with lights flashing and a few bursts from his siren as he waves goodbye through his open window.
“Or… We could go back to the cabin?” Krystal suggests, squeezing my crotch and standing on tippy toes to peck my chin as I pull her closer with both hands.
“We’re getting you home and I’m giving you a hot bath,” I inform her. “Then I’m gonna order us so much food we’ll never want to eat again, how does that sound?”
“Like the perfect day,” she says smiling. “Is Dad gonna be okay though?” she asks.
“I think he will be, pretty beat up at the moment but they’ll take care of him. We can go visit him in the hospital later,” I tell her, setting her mind at ease as we both head back to my car hand in hand.
I push the rocks out from behind the wheels and we’re off, driving past her own car as Krystal lets out a gasp of shock.
“I’m surprised I wasn’t hurt, oh my god, my keys!” she squeals, and I fish in my jeans pocket, jingling them in front of her.
“Is there nothing you can’t do, James Silverhorn?” she asks with a wry smile.
“Hey?” I warn her, holding a finger up. “I’m already thinking about changing it, don’t tempt me,” I try to say seriously before we both laugh loudly, her hand straying to my crotch again, which starts to bulge in reply.
“I like your horn fine, just the way it is Mr. Silverthorn,” she says innocently, squeezing me and teasing me by playing with my zipper.