A Thousand Tomorrows & Just Beyond the Clouds Omnibus (23 page)

“Listen again, Cody.” She would turn to that part of the book, her voice thick with tenderness. “ ‘All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page.’ ” She would stop, take a breath, and continue. “ ‘Now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on forever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.’ ”

For a moment she would fall silent, staring at the page. Then she would look up, tears in her eyes. “That’s how heaven will be, right?”

Cody would draw her near and kiss her cheek, absorbed in her. “Yes.” He would search her eyes. “But not for a long time.”

She would only smile and take his hand, switching the conversation to Tom Sawyer and the marvels of childhood magic and making memories along the banks of the Mississippi.

Lazy winter days made for early nights, and often Ali was tired. But Cody would argue the fact whenever Ali’s parents brought it up.

“I’d like to see more color in her cheeks.” Her mother would pull Cody aside every week or so, a frown knit into the lines on her face. “She doesn’t look right.”

And Cody would find his most confident tone, his most relaxed smile. “It’s winter.” He’d pat Ali’s mother on the
shoulder. “Anyone would be pale after a season indoors. Wait till spring; she’ll have more energy then.”

But by late March, she didn’t have more energy; she had a second bout of pneumonia. After another week in the hospital, Dr. Cleary was reluctant to send her home.

“I’d like to keep you here; I think the IV and oxygen tent would help some.”

“But not a lot?” Cody was confused. He stood near the head of Ali’s bed. He looked at her parents and then at her and finally back to the doctor. “The hospital’s always been a good thing for her.”

The doctor frowned. It took a moment before he looked up. “In the past we could get her better.”

“Meaning?” Ali took hold of Cody’s hand, her eyes on Dr. Cleary.

A sad-sounding sigh left the man’s lips. “It’s not good, Ali; your lung function’s way down and”—he breathed in slowly through his nose—“we can’t treat the bacteria.” He sat on the edge of her bed and took hold of her right foot, his eyes damp. “I’m afraid it’s in both lungs.”

And like that, the end was introduced.

C
ODY FELT STRANGE
and disconnected.

He wasn’t in the room standing next to Ali’s hospital bed. He was on a grassy bluff at her parents’ ranch, looking into her eyes, knowing she had never looked more beautiful, more whole and well. And he was taking her hand
and placing a ring on her finger and promising to be strong when she could not.

Only how could he be strong now? The doctor was basically telling them she wouldn’t get better. Her hand was still in his, and he squeezed it.
Cowboy up, Gunner. Cowboy up
.

He locked his jaw and blinked hard.
Get me through this
.

The room had been silent, the news working its way through the room, through their hearts and minds like a slow, deadly fog.

“So…” Ali’s eyes showed no reaction. She coughed twice, rib-jarring coughs, and stared at the doctor. “How long do I have?”

“It depends.” He folded his arms tight. “A month, two maybe. Stay indoors, away from your horse, maybe a little longer.”

“But if she stays in the hospital, wouldn’t that…” Cody couldn’t finish, couldn’t bring himself to have this discussion. Talking about it would make it true, and it wasn’t true; it couldn’t be true. Anyone could get pneumonia, right? It didn’t mean it was the end.

The doctor was biting his lip. “If it would make a difference, I’d keep her for a month.” He gave a defeated shake of his head. “At this point, I think she’d be happier at home.”

Ali pulled Cody’s hand close and pressed it to her cheek. Her eyes stayed on the doctor. “How will I know? Will there… will there be a sign?”

“It’ll get harder to breathe. Harder every day.” He angled his head, his expression as honest as it was anguished. “You’ll know, Ali.”

Three days later, they brought Ali back to the ranch, and the doctor was right. Her breathing grew worse, labored by heavy bouts of coughing that nothing could touch. Not her compression vest or medication or even the prayers Cody and her parents uttered constantly on her behalf.

Cody took to sleeping light, in case she needed him. A glass of water, a cold cloth, or the comfort of his arms around her. One morning, Cody was half asleep when he felt her hand on his shoulder.

“Cody?” She was wheezing, her breathing shallow. “Wake up.”

“What?” His eyes were open before she finished his name. He sat up, his heart pounding in his throat.

She met his eyes, the intensity between them so deep, so strong it hurt. “Take me out on Ace.” A smile just barely lifted the corners of her mouth. “Please.”

Cody hesitated. He wanted to tell her no, she was in no shape to go outdoors, let alone on a horse. But he couldn’t. This determination, the will to live no matter the cost, it was part of what he loved about her.

“Okay.” He took her hand, helped her to her feet, and found two sweatshirts for her. She was thinner than she’d ever been, and cold most of the time. Some days she wore multiple layers and a jacket. But the air had warmed over the past week, so two should be enough.

Together, without saying anything, they headed for the barn.

Rain would’ve fit the feelings in Cody’s heart, but the morning was clear. Sunshine splashed across the bluest sky
of spring and only a few puffy clouds hovered near the distant mountains. Leaves were unfurling from the branches of the oak trees, and clumps of grass grew thick and bright green at the base of the pines on the north side of the house. Everywhere, new life was springing up across the ranch.

Everywhere except in Ali.

Cody kept his arm around her as they walked, protecting her, letting her determine the pace. He was horrified at the changes in her from the day before. She was slower, her steps shaky, a pasty gray had taken over her complexion. And the rattling in her chest didn’t go away no matter how often she stopped to cough.

Fear tried to push its way between them, but Cody refused it. If Ali wanted this, he would give it to her. And with everything in him he would pretend things were different, that they were heading out for a ride because the bright spring morning demanded it.

They were almost to the barn doors when Ali turned to him. “Thanks, Cody. This means a lot.”

He smiled at her because he couldn’t talk.

Once inside, Ace looked up and whinnied, soft and curious. Cody had been taking care of him, riding him when Ali slept in the afternoon. But this was the first time she’d seen him since just after Christmas. When they were a few feet away, Cody let her take the lead.

“Hey, Ace.” Ali pushed herself, her pace stronger than before. She opened the gate, and when she was inside she put her arms around his neck.

The horse responded, softer this time. He turned his head, brushing his chin against the side of her face.

She rested her head against his mane. “Ace… I missed you, boy.”

Cody’s throat was so thick, he could barely breathe. This was the horse Ali had raised from birth, the one she had broken and trained and taken across the country three times over. Ali had once told him that Ace understood things a horse shouldn’t understand. When it was a big rodeo, when a championship or high-stake prize money was up for grabs, Ace would sense her excitement and give her a ride equal to the task. Likewise, he sensed when she was sick and responded with a gentler ride.

Watching now, Cody knew it was true.

There were tears in her eyes when she turned to him. “Ready?”

He gave a short nod and went to work. Once Ace was saddled, Cody climbed on and helped her up in front of him, the way he’d done so many times before. Often when they’d ride around the ranch together, he’d hold the reins by putting his arms around her waist. But this time he handed them to her.

Ali set out at a trot, but as she left the area around the corral, she broke into a run. Not the all-out record-breaking run she and Ace were capable of, but a gentle run that mixed grace and strength and restraint with every stride. He held tight to her, willing her to breathe, to survive this ride without anything worse happening.

It took only a few minutes to realize where she was going. She was taking Ace on the familiar route, the one around the perimeter of the ranch. Cody’s heart kept time with the pounding rhythm of the horse’s hooves. What if Ali couldn’t catch her breath? What if she fainted, too far from the house to get help? Why had he agreed to the ride without telling her parents where they were going?

Halfway around—near the back fence—she brought Ace to a stop and fell back against his chest. “Ali?” He took hold of her shoulders and leaned his face in close. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Her breathing was hard and fast, but it wasn’t raspy like it had been back at the barn. “I feel wonderful.”

The tension in his muscles eased some. “Can you breathe? Maybe we should get back just in case you—”

“Cody.” She angled herself so she could see him. “I’m fine.” She pressed her shoulder into him, and turned Ace so she could see back across the expanse of her parents’ ranch. “The day after Anna’s funeral, I sat in my bedroom alone. Nothing felt right, so I walked to the window and looked out at all the grassy meadows and bushes, beyond our ranch to the neighbor’s farm.”

He pictured the scene, studying her so he wouldn’t miss a word.

“The neighbor had a palomino horse; every day Anna used to dream of riding him. Only she never got the chance.” Ali lifted her eyes to an evergreen a few feet away. “So that day I snuck out of the house and ran through the grass and
past the bushes.” There was a smile in her voice. “And I knew, I just knew Anna was watching me.”

He waited, his fingertips light along her outside arm.

“From the moment I stood next to that horse, I was sure I’d never go back indoors.” She smiled up at him. “Except to sleep.”

“You’re a fighter.” He kissed the top of her head.

“I told myself no matter what happened I’d have no regrets.” She looked at him again. “But I was wrong.”

He shook his head. “No, Ali.”

“Yes.” Her eyes held his. “My only regret is that maybe…” Her voice cracked. She brought her hand to her throat and hesitated. “Maybe if I’d stayed inside more, I could’ve had more time with you.”

“Ali…”

“I just wanted you to know that.” She sat up a little straighter. The familiar wheezing was there, but it was better than it had been in days. She held his eyes with hers. “Every time you ride Ace, every time you look at him, I want you to see me, Cody. I want you to remember how every day with you was a gift. You…” She swallowed, her voice tight. “If you hadn’t chased me, I never would’ve caught you.”

“Oh, I see.” Cody leaned his chin on top of her head, his tone easy. “You caught
me
, is that it?”

“I was keeping it a secret.” She giggled, but the effort led to a short bout of coughing. When she caught her breath she folded her hands around his. “This is my last time out, Cody. The doctor was right.”

Cody’s heart beat faster. “Ali, please.” He shook his head. “Don’t say that.”

“It is.” She drew a long breath, one that made her wince. “The doctor said I’d know, and I do. I knew this morning.”

Tears blurred Cody’s vision and he blinked hard. Was she right? Was this the last time Ali Daniels would sit on a horse, the blazing Ali Daniels? He remembered her question. “I’ll always see you, Ali.” He snuggled closer to her. “How could I see Ace and not see you?”

She smiled. “My mama always said we looked alike, me and Ace. I guess it’s the blonde hair.”

They were quiet for a while. Cody willed his anxious soul to settle down, but it wasn’t listening. He couldn’t get the thought out of his mind. What if she was right? What if this really was her last ride? The possibility made him crazy with fear.

After a few minutes, Ali took hold of the reins. “Ready?”

“No.” He wanted to scream at the heavens, jump off Ace, and run until he couldn’t take another step. No. A million times no. He would never be ready to leave their private shared world of horses and open ranchland and April blue sky. He couldn’t believe for a minute that this was the last time he and Ali would ride together, the last time he would feel her body against his as they pounded out an ageless rhythm across the fields.

“Cody?” She looked over her shoulder at him. Her breathing was getting worse.

“Okay.” He pressed his cheek against hers and closed his eyes.

The whole way back he kept his arms around her waist, his eyes shut, memorizing the feel of her as her back brushed against his chest, the sensation of her silky blonde hair dusting his cheeks.

Just before they turned into the barn, she pulled to a stop. Ace must’ve sensed she was in trouble, because he lifted his head, offering her his neck to lean against. She smoothed his blonde mane and patted the side of his head. “Attaboy, Ace.”

She turned to Cody. “I read something the other day.”

He moved his hands up from her waist, running his fingers along her arms again. “Hmmm?”