When You Are Mine(10)

"What's this?" He lifted the leather strap encircling her wrist.                       
       
           



       

"That's the bracelet Iyani made for me."

The bracelet held block letters spelling Iyani's name. The smile Kerris pushed onto her lips felt like a too-tight sweater.

"Her surgery is tomorrow. She wanted me to have it, just in case. I hate  that she has had to even consider the possibility of dying. It's so  unfair."

"Baby, if anyone knows about unfair childhoods, it's you and me. You  learn to roll with whatever punches come your way. No matter what."

"What punches came your way?" She squeezed his hand, inviting a confidence she wasn't sure she was ready to reciprocate.

"Punches?" Cam boarded up his usually open face.

They'd both known so much pain at an early age, but had ironically  shared few details with each other. She thought of the night she and  Walsh had eaten soul food at the bungalow, of how he had effortlessly  drawn her out. She so rarely discussed her time in foster care, choosing  to put one foot in front of the other and move forward as quickly as  possible, leaving the past behind.

"Don't you think the woman you've asked to marry you should know about your past?"

"Is she going to share hers?" Cam stroked the hair back from her face.

"If you want to know." She braved a quick glance at his solemn face.

"I've only ever talked to Walsh about that stuff." His fingers continued  to twist the block letters on Iyani's bracelet. He couldn't seem to  look at her. "He has a way of getting shit outta you that you swore  you'd never talk about."

She had experienced firsthand the truth serum of Walsh's irresistible, probing concern.

"Is there room to join you guys?" Jo asked from a few feet away, agilely  weaving her long, lean limbs between blankets. "I think we can fit in  right here beside you."

We?

Kerris looked past Jo, dismayed to see Walsh and Sofie headed their way,  both loaded down with blankets and picnic baskets. Kerris's heart  twisted. She knew a marriage between Sofie and Walsh was a certain  eventuality, but she just couldn't see him with her. There was something  at the girl's very core that seemed cold; cold and hard and not worthy  of him.

"Are we interrupting?" Walsh spread out a blanket and set down a basket.

"You can only be interrupting so much out here in the open. Ker's not  into public displays of affection." Cam laughed when Kerris's eyes  stretched with embarrassment. "I'm only teasing you, baby."

Kerris leaned her cheek into his kiss, her smile as hard and stiff as  drywall. Her eyes dropped from the intensity of Walsh's. He looked away,  too, occupying himself with getting set up. They all dug into the food  they'd packed, reaching across the blankets to share and sample one  another's feasts.

Kerris glanced at Walsh's wrist, touched to see that he wore the  bracelet Iyani had given him. She looked up, finding his sober eyes on  her bracelet, too. She knew tomorrow's risky surgery caused him the same  fear, anxiety, and hope.

"Walsh." She raised her voice just enough to be heard over the music and the crowd.

Walsh didn't hear, but the other three did. Their stares rested heavily on her.

"Walsh," she repeated, erecting a firewall against the icy, wintergreen eyes Sofie leveled her way.

"Yeah?" He turned his head in her direction.

"Um, would it be okay if I come to the hospital tomorrow for Iyani's  surgery?" She pushed the words past the self-consciousness drying out  her mouth. Her heart beat a furious tom-tom in her chest. She twisted a  blade of grass between busy fingers, refusing to look away.

"Of course," he said, eyes serious. "I'd like the company."

* * *



Walsh looked away from Kerris, hoping he wasn't betraying himself to the  other three, all of whom had known him long enough to detect his  discomfort. A clenched fist, a tightened muscle in his jaw. Small  things, but they were the physical responses he always seemed to have  around Kerris. How was it that he'd known Jo, Cam, and Sofie his whole  life, and yet it was Kerris to whom he felt most connected?

He hated this. Hated keeping his growing feelings to himself. Hated  deceiving Cam, letting him believe he was barely aware of his best  friend's girlfriend, when in reality he could think of little else. And  most of all, he hated seeing Cam's hands on Kerris.                       
       
           



       

Touching her arm. Pushing the soft, dark cloud of hair away from her face. Raining kisses down the graceful line of her neck.

Walsh balled his hands into impotent fists and leaned back on his  elbows, watching the couple surreptitiously. He had no right to this  jealousy, this sense that Cam should keep his damn hands off her. It was  unreasonable. He knew it, but he had to physically restrain himself  from snatching her away from Cam.

This was only getting harder. He needed to get away. He'd be returning  to Kenya soon, either taking a recovered Iyani back to the orphanage,  or … He couldn't complete that thought even to himself. He had grown to  love that little girl's boundless spirit. He glanced down at the  bracelet, thinking of how somberly she had presented the identical  bracelets to him and Kerris Tuesday at the hospital. Kerris had been  taping one of Iyani's drawings to the wall when the child had called her  over to sit on the bed with her and Walsh.

"Just in case," Iyani had whispered, fear-soaked tears in her dark eyes. "So you won't forget me."

"I could never forget you, sweet girl." Kerris had leaned down to kiss  the jagged scar covering one side of Iyani's scalp, a reminder that she  had survived one skirmish with death already. "I won't need this  bracelet to remember you because you'll be here with us, but thank you  so much. I love it."

Walsh looked at Kerris now, eyes closed as Cam played with the soft  tendrils of hair flowering around her forehead. He knew Cam would ask  her again to marry him at summer's end. Walsh wasn't sure he could allow  it. The ancient instincts of a hunter swelled in his chest, the  primeval nature of a warrior demanding that he fight for her, win her.  Could he do that to Cam?

He watched Cam run his finger down the smoothness of Kerris's cheek. Cam  had never been this way with anyone before. Either he was running from  some woman who wanted to have sex with him, or he was chasing some woman  he wanted to have sex with. It really had never gotten more complex  than that for Cam with women. But he recognized the tenderness, the  concern, the genuine affection and admiration his friend held for  Kerris.

"Cam, did you see the elephant ears they're selling?" Jo stood to her  feet and stretched one summer-gold arm down to him. "Come on. Let's go  grab some."

Cam looked down at Kerris, uncertainty on his face.

"She's knocked out." Jo scrunched her brows, obviously a little  irritated. "She'll be fine. Walsh and Sofie are here, and we'll be right  back."

Cam allowed Jo to pull him to his feet, casting one more glance over his  shoulder at his sleeping girlfriend before walking off, his arm hooked  around Jo's neck.

"Sofie!" Walsh recognized a local reporter from a few feet away. "Could  we get those shots of you we talked about? With the kids?"

"I forgot, there's some foundation kids here tonight, and the Rivermont  Herald wanted some pictures of me with them." Sofie groaned softly. "Do  you mind?"

"They don't want pictures of me." Walsh laughed, deliberately looking away from the fast-approaching reporter. "I'm off today."

Tossing a mildly reproachful look his way, Sofie stood and met the  reporter halfway, allowing him to guide her toward the photo op. Walsh  crawled over to Kerris, kicking himself for not being able to stay away  from this woman for thirty seconds. He leaned down toward her ear,  drawing in her sweet smell. Sun-toasted vanilla poured over her clean  skin.

"I know you're not sleep," he whispered in her ear, grinning as her eyelids flickered.

"Well, not now," she whispered back, eyes still slammed shut.

"Not before, either." He laughed and sat up beside her.

She leaped to her feet and started toward the river. Walsh hesitated,  not sure if she was seriously peeved about her nap, or if she was  teasing. He stayed seated on the blanket, watching her. Her hair was  loose today, hanging down to the middle of her back, blowing back like a  dark banner in the light breeze. She wore a cotton candy pink calico  skirt that belled out, hanging to just above her knees. A sea green tank  top tucked into the skirt showed off her tiny waist.