Chapter 7

* * *

CHRISTINA

Time was ticking away – and so was her patience. Gideon couldn't sleep, couldn't get comfortable, or had nightmares, waking him up – and her, if she fell asleep. She was on edge and had caught herself looking at his profile in the shadows of the cabin several times, only to see him turn his head, quickly closing her eyes at the last minute.

This was ridiculous.

Both of them were reaching a breaking point, and something had to give at some point, and she was afraid it was going to be her sanity. Today, she was sitting there in front of Moe-the-Cow, milking her, and had leaned forward to rest her forehead against the cow's side, only to wake herself up snoring. She was so disconcerted that she nearly spilled the pail of milk, causing the cow to become startled, which, of course, drew Gideon's attention as he was feeding the horses at the end of the barn.

"Are you okay?"

"Yup," she hollered loudly over her shoulder in almost a panic. She did not need him coming over here to check on her because she was so… so…

Tired.

Oh my gosh, I'm mentally and physically exhausted, she thought painfully as a tear slipped past her lashes. She felt her lip wobble precariously, a sure sign she was about to lose her cool. She was so blasted tired, so frustrated, so on edge, and falling apart.

Releasing the cow's teats, she hesitated and just sat there, beyond any comprehensive thought, as she was shutting down to only the basics. She'd probably gotten five or six hours of sleep over the last several days since Gideon had arrived. Everything in her was collapsing, including the wall she had mentally, because she never cried, and here she was getting all weepy like some child.

"Christina?"

Nooooo! She mentally howled in alarm, hurriedly wiping her face and hanging her head just so he couldn't see her – only to see him drop his crutch as he quickly leaned over precariously to look her in the face.

"Are you crying?"

"N-No."

"Oh my gosh… you are crying. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Everything. I can't think and…"

"Come here," Gideon urged, leaning back up to a standing position and tugging her upward to join him – and she couldn't fight it. No, she would have probably given up a kidney in exchange for a pillow and a nap right now. He pulled her into his arms, tucking her head under his chin, and just hugged her like she was a child, which was frustrating and wonderful at the same time.

"You wanna tell me what is wrong?" he said gently.

"N-Nooo…" she sobbed pathetically.

"Shall I guess?" he chuckled. "Let me see. You are probably just as exhausted as I am and just want a nap." And she was already nodding off against his chest, letting out a horribly unromantic snore that caused him to let out a small sigh as he shook her gingerly.

"Christina, if I weren't in a cast, this wouldn't be a problem – but right now I need you to walk with me to the cabin."

"I c-can't…"

"We're done for the day," he said firmly, tugging her forward. "Come with me."

"Where are we going?" she protested faintly but walked along beside him, leaving the bucket of milk and everything else. She was so far gone that she didn't even care. Gideon had an arm around her and his crutch, managing to make his way slowly beside her as they walked, catching her as she stumbled. As they got to the cabin, he opened the door and pulled down the Murphy bed immediately.

"I've got to put away my things… I need that data, and oh phooey," she sobbed, burying her face in her hands wretchedly, unable to focus.

"Christina, look at me," Gideon said gently, sitting beside her.

"N-No… my n-nose turns red."

"It's fine," he urged and touched her hands, pulling them from her face. She stared up at him, looking at his blurry face through her tears, and saw his eyes melt. "We're both exhausted and trying so hard to do the right thing that we're doing all the wrong things – and that stops now."

"What does?"

"We're going to take a heckuva nap…"

"You had me at nap…" she sobbed, feeling utterly wretched. "I'm so tired, my brain isn't braining. I hate this. Why couldn't you be a girl or be gay?"

"I'm really glad I'm not," he laughed easily and bent over to take off her boots. "Now, this is strictly a nap. Clothes stay on, nothing untoward, no funny business, but we are both lying down horizontally for this one, together, under the sheets, like a couple of friends."

"I don't even care," she whimpered, turning and crawling on all fours across the bed before collapsing and whispering, "Take the kidney…"

"What do you mean?" Gideon said gently, putting a hand on her back and shaking her slightly. "You said ‘kidney' – is something wrong with your kidney?" And made an unintelligible noise, even for her. She felt the bed sag beside her as he lay down, and that was the last thing she remembered.

* * *

Christina wasn't sure what woke her. She was warm, comfortable, and felt so much better than she had earlier. How was she going to face Gideon after having a breakdown and crying like a…

That single thought stopped her in her tracks.

Gideon.

She had climbed into the bed to sleep, collapsed, and had felt the bed move slightly because he said he was lying down, too. Did he? Was he actually in the bed with her? Cracking open a single eye, she stared into a pair of brown ones watching her.

"Hey," she began hoarsely, trying to play it cool.

"Hey yourself," he murmured quietly, almost as if he was afraid to break the stillness of the night air. It was getting dark out, and she was a little surprised no one had come looking for either of them. "Did you sleep well?"

"I'm sorry about any of that…"

"Don't apologize. We've both been sleeping badly for a while now, and something had to give."

"My sanity?" she retorted in a hushed, embarrassed voice, only to see him smile tenderly at her, surprising her. He had the loveliest smile and looked almost gentle like he actually cared.

"I think your sanity is intact," he began. "Just like everything else. You know we can do this and be adults about it. We don't even have the Wall-of-Crutches between us, and it managed to work."

"True," she admitted, meeting his smile as they lay there on the bed facing each other, whispering in the darkness. "But what about your mother tanning your hide? What would my cousin say? I mean, Mom would probably flip out and want to meet you thinking we were in a relationship or something weird like that, but…" and her voice trailed off as his smile faded. "Let's not go there, right?"

"Actually, this is nicer than I imagined waking up with a friend to talk to."

"It is," she confessed quietly. "It reminds me of sleepovers with my best friend, where we used to hide under the covers and whisper secrets all night long until one of us fell asleep."

"We're friends, doing the same thing, except a little taller."

"Again – true," she smiled and saw his lovely one return. "I should probably get up or…"

"Stay, and let's keep whispering together," he urged softly, not moving. "Maybe for a little longer because this is probably the best thing I've done since jumping from that plane that fateful day."

"You know," she chuckled softly, teasing him and remaining where she was as he'd asked. "Planes normally have landing gear, and you don't have to jump."

Gideon chuckled deeply, his eyes crinkling at the corners in amusement.

"I know that," he said, looking chagrined and amused for a brief moment as his smile faded. "Doing something wild for the adrenaline high was what pushed me into becoming a ranger. I guess that's over, and those happy, wild moments are gone."

"What am I?" she teased again, wanting to see his smile. "Am I chopped liver? I mean, what is wilder and crazier than sleeping with a stranger – even fully dressed."

"You're not a stranger now that we've decided to be friends," he reminded her and hesitated. "But if word gets back to my sister and leaks to my mother, that is not an adrenaline high I want to experience. I've been chased with a flip-flop before for acting badly."

"Oh, I want to hear this…"

"I put my sister's dolls in a tub full of water and bluing…" he chuckled guiltily. "I had a G.I. Joe action figure named Shipwreck – and well, they were in the ‘ocean' of my making."

"Oh noooo," she began laughing as he continued.

"My hands were stained; my clothing was ruined… and our toys…?"

They were both laughing, sharing a look, before laughing some more. Gideon was right, she realized. It was indeed nice to share stolen moments like this between them.

"My mom was so mad because my sisters were carrying on like it was the end of times… and here I was with blue hands that nobody acknowledged," he continued between bouts of laughter. "So when I grabbed Giselle, threatening to dunk her in the bathtub, I crossed a line. My mother yanked off her flip-flop so fast that we began scattering in every direction."

Christina was nearly crying with laughter, wiping her eyes, and treasuring the fact that her cheeks were hurting from smiling so much. Him sharing a part of his childhood, realizing just how normal it seemed, and being here was more than she could have ever asked for.

"I smarted off and told my mom, ‘You'll never catch me,'" he paused dramatically. "And she did. Let me tell you, a flip-flop can hurt almost as much as a switch. A cheap foam flip-flop makes an unholy pop that only adds to the fear."

"Oh, Gideon," she laughed wildly, holding her side as their eyes met.

"I think you have the prettiest smile," he said suddenly, his eyes taking on a strange look at that moment. "My mother would absolutely love you if you ever met her."

Christina's laughter faded as the air surrounding them seemed to change perceptibly. He was looking at her differently. Like something had just struck him in the moment that the words were uttered aloud. She never really had anyone say something so sweet or unexpectedly personal like that and was touched.

"Thank you," she whispered softly.

"You are welcome – and it's the truth," he acknowledged softly, again, not bothering to retract his statement or cover it up. "I think you are really nice on the outside, only matched by the inside. It's a very pleasant surprise, and I don't mean that badly, it's just that you are unlike anyone I've ever met. I'm acknowledging that openly."

"You are different from what I expected too – and I think you are really nice, inside and out, as well."

He smiled softly and nodded before hesitating.

"What?" she asked.

"Your cousin, your mother, my mother, my very conservative family," he stressed in a hushed voice, not looking away as his eyes searched hers. "They would all be bothered by us sharing a cabin and a bed?"

"I can honestly say that they would flip their lids," she admitted. "You think your family is conservative? Ha! Mine invented the word and is well known back home for their reputation. If you aren't married by the time you are twenty, they start searching for someone suitable for you."

"How'd you escape?"

"I left for college and have been dodging that matchmaking bullet ever since. You?"

"I'm the eldest of eight siblings, remember?" he admitted, as if that said everything. "Married young, no birth control, church every Sunday, no drinking, no swearing, no nothing…"

"How'd you escape?" she asked, using his own words.

"I left for the Army – and dodged everything until now."

"Now?"

"My mother wanted me to come home so she could tend to me while I healed – and I said ‘no,' hopping on the next plane. I know she would have been parading a line of women before me, all while taking away my man card."

"Can't have that," she chuckled softly. "A man-card is needed, and the only woman here is unsuitable."

"Why?" he asked quickly, causing her to pause.

"I'm not looking to get married or give up everything," she began. "I'm finishing up my thesis to get my doctorate, so I can start a practice somewhere… and well, nobody is asking."

"What if I asked you?"

Those five softly spoken words hung in the air as she stared at him in confusion. Was he really asking her to marry him? Why? To avoid having to marry someone later on? To take control of his life, so his pushy mother didn't? Why would he ask a perfect stranger to marry him?

"Christina," he began after a few moments of shocked silence from her. She had just laid there, her eyes searching his as her brain worked on processing things, looking at all the angles, and struggling with it. "We're friends, and this is so very nice, but what if we solved all of our problems by taking an unexpected pivot to the right? What if we got married, kept things like they are, continuing to share a space together safely while being able to enjoy these little talks together?"

"You want to get married… in name only?"

"We're friends," he said quietly. "We've never been on a date or kissed, but we are sharing tight living quarters, a bed, and I really like you. I can think of so many worse things – but being married to a friend is not one of them."

"Wait a s-second," Christina stammered, sitting up quickly and looking at him. "I'm not a fool, you know. You want to marry me and skip the bedroom stuff or emotional ties that come with it? I'm getting my degree in animal husbandry and what about urges?" she asked hoarsely, her face feeling like it was a thousand degrees from the embarrassment of speaking that question aloud to Gideon.

"Well, if you get ‘urges'…" he began, smirking.

"I'm not," she interrupted quickly.

"But if you get them…"

"I won't,"she retorted.

"But if you do," he pressed firmly. "I think we can pivot once again and figure something out. It's one of the benefits of being married."

"What happens if you are ‘urging' and I'm distinctly not feeling ‘urge-like'?" she began again, waving her hands as she spoke, feeling more and more embarrassed to be discussing this with him. Cows were different; she could talk about insemination, procreation, and other things without blinking an eye, but this was her gorgeous roommate, who was currently lying on her bed, fully dressed, discussing urges with her.

Gideon sat up and looked at her, reaching across the blanket to touch her hand. It was a small gesture meant to comfort, but it sent a shiver down her spine of awareness. She was a woman, alone with a man, talking about things that weren't discussed in polite company.

"Christina…"

"Gideon," she interrupted once more, almost panicking. "Marriage is forever. It's not just the urges, but the emotions, the having each other's backs, our families," and paused, staring at him in awareness and confusion. "What if I want children someday? Friends don't do that."

"Urging?" he chuckled, smiling at her.

"Yes!"

"Breathe," he instructed softly, still smiling at her and looking much too relaxed to be having this conversation. Her face still felt like it was the surface of the sun, and her pulse was racing. "Christina, I'm asking you to marry me as a friend – and yes, marriage is forever. I don't believe in divorce. We get along well, I respect you, and I think we would do well together over time."

"This is distinctly not romantic," she said flatly.

"And," he paused, looking at her again with all seriousness. "Maybe we will be blessed enough to have that friendship turn into something more someday. We can handle our families, our ‘urges'…"

"Quit laughing."

"And spouses have each other's backs when things get tough," he admitted. "It would mean a lot to me to have someone I respect and trust at my side because I don't know what the future holds with my leg. I've never thought of being a disabled vet, yet they've granted me partial disability for my back. I'm scared, and that's hard to admit."

Those words hung between them as he bared his soul toward her, trusting her, and the sincerity of it all pierced through the chaos of her mind. He was wounded and asking for help, friendship, and a permanent bond so he wasn't alone later. She could understand his feelings and felt humbled by them.

"I don't know what happens in the future," he began again, giving her hand a little squeeze. "I"m just trying to be a little selfish, grasping at straws, because I see someone incredible before me. I don't want to regret not tossing that offer out there between us."

Being married to Gideon would not be a burden in the slightest, she thought wildly, actually considering the strange proposal. He was handsome, smart, honest, and caring. If things changed between them, friendship turned into something more, it would be a blessing. Any ‘urges' would not be a struggle either because she was already attracted to him, which could result in children someday when she was ready. All of these things, these thoughts, were landing straight in the ‘plus column' in her mind. It was the negatives that were terrifying.

What if she met someone else someday? What if something was wrong and they couldn't fulfill those ‘urges' or there were no children? What if he had other hidden issues or vices? What if the nerve damage got worse or became permanent? What would that look like for them?

"Christina," he whispered hoarsely, causing her to look back at him and see shame and fear in his eyes just before he looked away. "It was just a wild thought. You can say ‘No'. I wouldn't want to tie you to me if this was something you were not…"

"Yes," she interrupted softly, the word pouring from her without hesitation. His face turned back, looking shocked for a moment before his eyes filled with relief, and he nodded.

"I will always keep my word to you and honor our vows," he promised, his voice trembling slightly. "This will be our arrangement. You can set the rules or parameters so that you are comfortable with this— with me. No one else needs to know what is involved in our marriage – and I promise you will be safe."

"Thank you," she began awkwardly, unsure what to say to all of that. This obviously meant a lot to him, more than she realized. When he said he was scared, maybe that fear was part of a still raw wound in his soul. That spoke to her because deep down, she loved helping and nurturing things.

"It will be okay. I promise," he repeated, giving her hand another squeeze, almost like it was a silent language between them. She met his eyes once more, not bothering to cushion her words.

"I believe you," she admitted. "I am putting my future in your hands, taking your name, and willing to believe that this could end up being something more than friendship someday. I am trusting you in this, Gideon."

He nodded slowly, not looking away from her.

"I will not let you down."