What had she told him that day, half a year ago, when he saw her riding Ace in the fields behind one of the arenas? She didn’t want to be caught, right? But he’d gone after her anyway, even after she told him straight-up not to chase her. Only he couldn’t stop himself.
And once he caught her, she couldn’t stop herself, either.
A suffocating pressure settled on his chest, and he leaned his hip into the counter closest to him. There would be no wedding, no future together, not if she only had a year. Ali would never agree to it. She would cling to her thought that if she told him no, if she pulled away, she could somehow spare them both the pain that would eventually come.
The reality was still sinking in, still exploding through his heart and soul. Ali Daniels was dying. She was dying, and there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing he could—
What had her mother said?
Think, Gunner. There was a solution here; there had to be. She was on a donor list, but there was something else, right? Something about a live transplant, wasn’t that it? Live had to mean someone living could give her a lung, at least it sounded that way. That would be serious, of course, but it could be done. And if it could be done then there was still hope; there had to be. He sucked in a full breath.
“Okay.” He grabbed the thin string of hope and clung to it with his whole being. He studied her mother’s face. “Let’s get her a lung transplant. Then she’ll be fine, right?”
Ali’s mother closed her eyes and shook her head. New tears splashed onto the floor. “She’s on a waiting list, but she’s not a top priority, not yet.”
His mind raced. He pinched the bridge of his nose, demanding his mind to focus. “Tell me about this live transplant thing. Why won’t that work?”
She sniffed and brought her fist to her lips for a moment. “They can do a transplant with two living donors. Her father’s a match, but I’m not.” She shook her head and opened her eyes. “We’ve never been close to Ali’s two aunts, and besides, she doesn’t want to ask. She says it isn’t anyone’s fault but her own that she needs a transplant this soon.” Defeat deepened the lines on her forehead. “Without a second donor the idea of a—”
“Wait!” The answer was easy. “I’ll give her one of mine.” Cody’s heart pounded with hope. That was the answer. Of course it was. He could get by on one lung, couldn’t he? People did it all the time. Hadn’t he read about a rider who took a horn to the ribs, lost a lung, and kept riding? Or what about his grandfather? The man had lung cancer and lived another decade with just one lung. Possibility rushed through him. “I’ll do it, Mrs. Daniels. I’ll give her one. Then she can get better.”
“Cody.” Ali’s mother came closer, her eyes begging him to understand. “Ali won’t ever get better.” She sucked in four quick breaths and gave another shake of her head. “A new lung will buy her three years at best. Three years, Cody.”
Three years? Cody held his breath. It wasn’t long enough, but it was better than one. And maybe sometime during those three years they’d find a cure, a way to help cystic fibrosis patients live longer.
Three years was an eternity if it meant keeping Ali alive.
“Mrs. Daniels”—his tone was calmer now, marked with a steely determination—“I’ve measured my whole life in seconds.” He took her hands and squeezed them. His mind was made up. “On the back of a bull, eight seconds feels like a lifetime.” A catch sounded in his voice. “Three years…?” He studied her. “That’s a thousand tomorrows, ma’am. Forever to a cowboy like me.”
Ali’s mother tried, but nothing she said after that came close to changing his mind. He turned in early, not sure he could face Ali without letting her know the truth—that her secret was out.
His conversation with her mother stayed with him as he headed for the guesthouse and long after the lights were out. He would give Ali a lung, and maybe she would get back five years or ten. Maybe someone really would find a cure. They could get married and force a lifetime of love and memories into whatever time she had. The more he thought about it, the more he was sure it would happen. And if it only bought them three years then so be it.
Because three years with Ali was better than all of eternity without her.
Chapter Thirteen
Before he could do anything else, before he could think about the future, he had to know if he was a match. The first test was simple. If his blood type matched hers, if he was healthy and bigger than her, he could be a donor. After that more specific testing would mix a sample of his blood with a sample of hers, to check for compatibility.
The next day he drove into Denver and headed for the office of Dr. Cleary, the man who knew how bad off Ali really was. A receptionist made him wait half an hour, but finally the doctor saw him. When Cody explained the situation, he was happy to draw the blood.
Cody had no anxiety while he waited. He knew the answer long before the nurse presented him with the results. He was a match; of course he was. He and Ali were so close their hearts beat in time with each other. How could his blood type have been anything but the same as hers? The other test results wouldn’t be available for several days, but Cody felt confident.
That afternoon as he walked up to the house, he heard loud voices inside. He opened the door quieter than usual and listened.
“I don’t care! You had no right to tell him.”
“Ali, he loves you; he had to know.” It was her mother. Cody sank against the doorframe and listened.
“I would’ve told him, can’t you see that? How am I supposed to face him now?” She was crying, her breaths short. He wanted to go to her, but he steadied himself, waiting, listening.
“Ali, calm down. You do yourself no good by getting upset.”
“I don’t care!” She uttered a cry. “So where is he now, huh? Where’d he go?”
“I told you; he’s getting a blood test.” She sounded tired, deliberately calm, the sorrow from the previous night hidden, no doubt for Ali’s sake. “Ali, he wants to give you a lung.”
“No!” She shouted this time, her voice ringing with anger and fear. “I won’t take it!” He heard footsteps and then the sound of the back door opening and slamming shut.
“Ali!” He heard her mother open the door again and shout after her. “It’s too cold out there! Come back and talk to me!”
That was all Cody needed to hear. He ran into the house, grabbed Ali’s black wool jacket from the chair, and exchanged a glance with her mother. “I’ll bring her back.”
“Please, Cody.” Relief rang in her voice. “Get her inside.”
Cody tore through the door in time to see Ali sprint across the backyard toward the barn. She was going for Ace, no doubt. Ali hadn’t been on him since they’d been home, and he knew how badly she wanted to ride.
He had never seen Ali run on anything but a horse. Watching her now, he wasn’t surprised. She ran fast, a picture of grace and beauty, the same way she was on Ace’s back. He picked up his speed as she turned and dashed through the barn doors. By the time he made his way inside, she was already saddling Ace. She turned, startled by his presence.
“Cody!” She pulled the cinch strap tight, put her boot in the stirrup and swung herself into the saddle. Shame darkened her features. She led the horse a few steps toward him. A wheeze sounded between her words. “Go away… I want to be alone.”
“I’m not leaving.” He held tight to her coat. Then he closed the distance between them, grabbed the saddle horn and swung himself up behind her.
“Fine.” She didn’t skip a beat, but dug her heels into Ace’s sides and leaned forward.
The horse took off like lightning, tearing out of the barn and out into the open fields. He could feel her shaking, shivering from the combination of cold and fury. His body sheltered hers, but it wasn’t keeping her warm, not with the wind in her face. He leaned in and yelled loud enough for her to hear him. “Stop! You need your coat.”
“No!” She shot the word at him over her shoulde
r, and leaned closer to Ace’s neck. “Yah!”
The horse kicked into another gear. Come on, Ali. He gritted his teeth and hung on to the saddle with one hand. With the other, he draped the coat over Ali’s shoulders, holding it in place so it wouldn’t fly off. She kept Ace running, flying across the rolling hills and rocky bluffs toward the far end of their ranch. Only when she’d ridden past the cattle, out to the barbed wire, did she pull to a stop.
Without looking at him, she dismounted and walked to the nearest fence post. The coat was still hanging on her shoulders, and she bent over, coughing long and hard. Cody felt the fear rise in his throat. He didn’t have her inhaler, didn’t have any way to help her. They were too far out to get help if she couldn’t catch her breath.
His heart pounded against his chest. “Ali!” He jumped down and headed for her. “Breathe out; it’s okay. You can do this.”
She was bent in half, coughing, gasping for breath. “Cody… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to… to hurt you.”
“Don’t, Ali. It’s okay. I’m here; I’m not mad.”
Her coughing was getting worse. The cold air and exertion must’ve kicked her into a spasm, because she couldn’t catch her breath. She was heading into a full-blown asthma attack, the kind Cody had seen her suffer before. That meant she needed her inhaler, the one back at the house.
Her gasps were more strained now, frantic for air.
“Ali, breathe out. Come on, you can do this.”
But she couldn’t, and he had a decision to make. He could get her back on Ace and go for help, but that would take ten minutes. Ten minutes they didn’t have. If only she could relax, maybe the air would come.
His hand ran over her back, up and down in small circles. “Breathe, Ali. Please, breathe.”
“I… I can’t.” Her coughing was horrendous now.
Terror filled him, paralyzing his ability to move or think or do anything but watch her fade away. He clenched his fists and shouted into the afternoon wind. “Help me!” His voice was lost among the rustling of pines overhead. “Make her breathe! Please!”
Ali coughed three times, but not as hard as before. She drew in a slow breath; it was raspy, but it was air. A tingling worked its way down Cody’s spine from his neck to his lower back. He put his hand on her shoulder. His voice was quieter this time. “Ali, keep going! Keep breathing!”
“Cody…” She straightened some, her gasps farther apart. Now that he could see her face, the sight of her made him weak. Her skin was pasty gray, her lips a frightening shade of blue. “I’m okay.”
He rubbed her back, leaning into her. “Slow breaths, Ali. Slow and easy. Blow out; you’re getting through it.”
She rested against the fence post, shaky and weak. Her breathing wasn’t normal but it was better. “Thank you.”
He was stunned, speechless. If things had been different, she could be passed out on the frozen ground by now, minutes from death. He shuddered. “Here.” He helped get her arms into the wool coat. “Let’s get you home.”
Their conversation came later that night, when she was rested and medicated, when all that was left from the terrifying afternoon was the memory of her anger.
They sat on the sofa, and Cody took the lead. “I heard you and your mother.”
She crossed her arms and looked at her lap. “I wanted to tell you.” Her eyes met his. “It was my job.”
“It doesn’t matter, Ali. I know the truth, and guess what?” He slid closer and took her hand in his. “I’m a match! As soon as you’re ready, I’ll give you one of my lungs. And maybe in the years after that they’ll find a cure for CF and—”
“You can’t.” The anger was gone, but she shook her head anyway. “I won’t let you.” She bit her lip, her eyes damp. “You live for those eight seconds on a bull, Cody. I won’t let you give that up.”
“I don’t have to.” He smiled, his tone confident. She couldn’t change his mind any more than her mother could have. He was more convinced with every passing hour. “I called one of the rodeo docs and asked. He said a bull rider could compete with one lung.” Cody didn’t tell her the rest of what the doctor said. Riding with one lung was very risky; it meant less room for error. A punctured lung could be deadly in such a situation.
“But when, Cody?” She lowered her brow. “You can’t take time off during the season.”
“I won’t have to.” He ran his knuckles along her cheekbone. “You feel good, right?”
She studied him, puzzled. “So…”
“So we’ll do the season together next year. When it’s over, when we both have our buckles, we’ll check into the hospital and I’ll give you a lung.” He kept a calm exterior, but inside he was holding his breath, pushing for her to tell him yes.
“Cody…” She angled herself toward him. “I don’t want you to do it. You need your lungs.”
“Come on, Ali.” A grin tugged at his lips. He brushed a strand of hair back from her face. “We’re talking about Gunner lungs here. One would be better than two on most riders.”
She couldn’t keep from smiling, even if fear still had the upper hand. “You’re crazy.”
“Yes. About you.” He hesitated, watching her, waiting until the fear faded. “I’m doing this, Ali. I’m giving you a lung. I’ve already made up my mind.”
“Cody…” The conviction was gone from her voice.
When she didn’t go on, when she didn’t argue or tell him she didn’t want his offer, he knew he’d won. And with that, his heart shifted gears. He pulled the ring from his pocket. “Ali…” He leaned in and kissed her. “I don’t care if you’re sick, or how many years you’ll get from a lung transplant.” He kept his fingers on the sides of her face. “I love you.”
The fear in her eyes turned to surprise, and the surprise to a sort of joy he hadn’t seen in her since they came home from Las Vegas. “You really do?”
He slid her to the edge of the sofa and dropped to one knee. “I found out something today.” He ran his tongue over his lower lip. “I found out I can’t live without you.” He kept the ring in his hand, tight against his knee. With the other hand, he covered her fingers. “But something else. Ever since my dad left, my mom has believed that someday I’d learn to let go… that I’d learn to love.” He studied Ali, the picture she made. He would never forget the way she looked, sitting in front of him, healthy and whole. “And now look at me.”
For the second time that night, a smile played on her lips. Her eyes held the now familiar adoration she hadn’t allowed herself to feel since her angry ride the day before. She messed her fingers through his hair. “What am I going to do with you?”
He reached into his closed palm and lifted the ring for her to see. “Marry me, Ali.”
Her mouth hung open for a moment, but her surprise gave way to a certainty that told him all was right with their world. She wasn’t going to run or push him away. It was too late to keep from falling for each other. They’d fallen, and from this day on there would be nothing else.
Here, now, they wouldn’t borrow sadness from some far-off day. Not when they’d found something so rare together. She slid closer to him and put her arms around his neck. “Cody Gunner, I have a question.”
He brought his lips to hers, the gentlest kiss. Then he found her eyes, his voice barely a whisper. “Ask it.”
“Okay.” She watched him, her eyes full of light and love. Her smile started there and made its way to her mouth. “Are you chasing me?”
“Always.” He grinned.
Her smile faded. “Don’t ever stop.” She kissed him with a slow certainty, a kiss that told him she had as much hope as he had about their future. When she pulled back, her eyes held a strange mix of starry-eyed dreams and smoldering desire. “Now I need to answer your question.”
“Yes.” He pressed his face against hers, holding on to the feel of her soft skin against his. “I’m waiting.”
She giggled and leaned back, looking beyond his eyes and straight t
o the places of his heart that were no longer closed off. “Yes, Cody.” Her eyes shone like never before. “I’ll marry you.”
He drew her closer, holding her tight not only in his arms, but in his soul. “I love you, Ali.”
Her face grew serious. “I love you, too.” It was the first time she’d said it. But once the words were out, the truth about them filled her expression. “I love you with all I am, Cody Gunner.”
It was a moment that might’ve been marked by tears. But as they kissed, as she held up her hand and let him slide the ring past her knuckle, they laughed and held each other and whispered about what her parents would say, and whether he would even tell his. They cuddled on the couch, talking about wedding dresses and handwritten vows and honeymoons and the future, their eyes clear and dry.
Cody thought he understood why.
The story they were starting was bound to have sad scenes. The ending would be saddest of all. So why not smile and laugh and love as long as they had today? Why not admire her ring and kiss her and hold her, breathing in the feel of her against his chest? Today was no time for crying. Cody wasn’t willing to lose a single happy moment with Ali Daniels. Soon enough down the road, the tears would come. For now, today belonged to them.
Today, and another year of rodeo, and after that a thousand precious tomorrows.
Chapter Fourteen
The Pro Rodeo season started out like the one Ali Daniels had always dreamed about. But even then she had a sense the good times wouldn’t last.
She set a record at the opener in Denver, and took first place at all but two of the first seven stops. But along the way she could feel herself shutting down. Every breath required deliberate thought. Not just the breathing she did in the arena, but all the time, even after a long session in her compression vest.
They carried oxygen in her trailer, and Cody rarely left her side. He was first in the standings, riding with as much fury as ever—all of it somehow directed toward cystic fibrosis. At least that’s what he told her.