Chapter 31

Here's the latest installment of this cross F.F. Story. Hope you enjoy it and thanks for the feedback.

Matt sat across from C.J. at the table, as she poured herself some grape juice in her glass. She didn't really miss alcohol all that much but a glass of wine every now and then suited her nicely, especially with venison. Not that she would take any chances with the baby, so the juice made a nice substitute. Matt stuck to his beer and dug into the meal.

"Great venison," he said, remembering back when it had been a staple of his diet during hunting season. His father and uncle used to take at least one trip a year whenever his uncle had been in between his frequent and very mysterious business trips, back when he had been an operative posing as a traveling salesman. They had invited C.J.'s uncle to come along but he usually begged off saying he had too much work to do back with the ranch with his head of stock going to sale that time of year. Matt went with his relatives when he'd grown older; it was one of the few times he got to spend with the two most important men in his life at the same time.

"Thanks," she said, "I remember how I used to help my uncle cook it, though he was much better at it than I am."

He took another bite, enjoying it and the fact that they were spending time together.

"I wonder what he would think about us," he said, "He never really seemed too fond of me."

She tilted her head, looking at him.

"He didn't like most of my friends," she said, "I think our friendship scared him, because it was something he couldn't control."

Matt knew that her uncle had tried his best to be a surrogate parent to her after her own had died within a short time of one another. But his idea of love had been to instill a hard work ethic in the young girl who had come suitcase in hand to stay with him and that meant that every hour she hadn't spent studying, she spent out on the ranch working as hard as the men. She had probably been the only law student at Harvard University with calluses still etched in her fingers.

"And me being unmarried and pregnant even being older would have shocked him," she said, "especially with you."

"You know I do intend to make an honest woman out of you," he pressed.

She just threw him another look.

"Houston, like I told you, I'm not marrying someone who feels obligated to do the right thing."

He pursed his lips, reading the expression on her face.

"I know, but that's not why I'm asking you," he said.

She put down her fork and folded her arms.

"I didn't hear you asking me," she said, "I heard you telling me."

He saw that she had started putting up her defenses around herself again and so he retreated, serving himself more potatoes.

"You're not going to push this marriage thing on me," she asked.

He shook his head innocently.

"Not another word," he said, "The topic is off the table for now."

She noted the flicker of disappointment in his eyes and felt a pang of guilt.

"Houston…"

"I'm just here to enjoy a delicious meal with the most beautiful woman in Cicely," he said, "and oh, there are a couple of cases of those pickles you like so much in the trunk of the car."

Her eyes lit up.

"Oh that's great," she said, "Ruth Ann sold me what she had left in stock."

His brow lifted at her enthusiastic response.

"There's some Tabasco sauce in there too if you'd like to try it," he offered.

She rolled her eyes at him.

"That's a bit much even for me to try."

He loved watching her eyes sparkle when she smiled like now and she looked great in that outfit which accentuated her figure, sitting right in front of him. He would have loved to move this conversation someplace else but she still had a bit of that wariness in those eyes that watched him so closely. As if a part of her were still afraid he would disappear if she lost sight of him.

She cleared the plates when they were done eating and he helped her clean them in the kitchen before they headed into the living room, where the fire awaited them. He went out into the snow to gather the pickles and brought them in the house. After opening the box in the kitchen, he picked up a jar of them and some chocolate sauce and looked at both items ruefully before returning to the living room.

A smile lit up her face as he handed them to her, after opening the pickle jar and she eagerly started eating them. His brows rose as he watched her until she looked back up at him.

"C.J. you just ate a pretty good-sized meal…"

She folded her arms.

"Houston, I'm eating for two and these pickles…they are just wonderful…"

"I'm sure they are," Matt said, "and there's enough in there to keep you in stock for a while."

She returned to her eating.

"Are you sure you don't want some?"

He looked at her dipping them in the sauce before popping them in her mouth.

"Like I said, I'll take your word for it," he said, "and I'm going to make sure the both of you have plenty to eat or anything else you need."

Her eyes stung a little bit.

"I know that," she said, "and I'm really not trying to push you away."

Matt saw the conflict in her eyes as she leaned back on her sofa looking into the flames sparking off of the old wood.

"C.J., I'm not going anywhere," he said, "Certainly not tonight and this couch looks comfortable enough."

She smiled and he saw a little more of the weight leave her eyes.

"That's good to hear," she said, getting up to get him some blankets for his night on the couch.

She went to the linen closet and brought them back for him, with a pillow.

"It's a little early for bed don't you think?"

She just shook her head at him, wrapping one of the blankets around herself as she sat down beside him on the couch.

"You tired," he asked her.

She shook her head again.

"I was pretty tired for a while all the time," she said, "but in the past couple of weeks, I've felt a lot better."

"Well I'm going to make sure you get plenty of rest," he said, "starting tonight."

Actually she had slept pretty well since he returned and the dreams had faded, dreams where she had watched helpless as he died in front of her.

"It's really nice that you're here Houston."

He reached for her and she fell into his embrace easily enough. She loved the feel of his strong arms around her; the scent of his cologne relaxed her. She tucked the blanket around them and snuggled closer.

"This is very nice too," he said, brushing his lips against her hair.

"Mmmm….," she said, closing her eyes, enjoying the warmth of the fire and the warmth around her.

It was really nice to spend some quiet time with him without having to worry about a case that might turn dangerous or one of the many different emergencies that cropped up in their line of work. So many times she had spent hours worrying about him, fears that she really could never share with him. Just part of the life that both embraced that she had to accept and just hope that he made it back safely whenever he went out the door.

He must have read her mind.

"I love what we do but sometimes it scares the hell out of me," he admitted.

She opened her eyes and clasped her hand over his own where they circled her waist.

"Join the club," she answered quietly.

He thought of all the times he had put himself in danger because of what he did, the life they had both chosen for themselves even though some people around them had thought they were crazy. Mostly him for signing away his multi-million dollar company to charity and pursuing his investigation work full-time. But the hazards of the job that impacted him were nothing compared to how her own life had been placed in danger. And how helpless he had faced every time that this had happened, especially when all he could do was watch.

He squeezed her more tightly and she felt it, knowing something had changed within him.

"Houston…"

He hesitated.

"I made a deal once," he said, "during the Peg Allison case."

She remembered that one, though not very much of it. The young heiress had been seduced into a radical cult and then subjected to brainwashing by its leader so that she would sign over her inheritance before they would kill her. Matt and C.J. had tried to help her but some of the cult leader's guards had opened fired on them as they had left with Peg's incriminating blood sample which would have proven that she had been drugged. The last thing she had remembered was getting slammed by something hard and then…nothing. Matt had filled her in on the rest of the case while she had been recovering from her bullet wound but she knew he left certain details out.

"What was that," she asked.

"While we were in the lighthouse…"

That's part of what she hadn't remembered was the time that she and Matt had been held captive by the cult, even after she had shot and desperately needed medical attention. What she remembered had been unrelenting pain and both the fear and relief of slipping away from it.

"I did a lot of praying in there and I promised that if you made it through this, I would tell you how much I cared about you."

She sighed.

"Well Houston of course you do," she said, simply, "We care about each other. I mean we've been best friends forever."

He lightly stroked her hip.

"I don't mean…like a friend."

She turned her head to look at him, puzzled and frankly shocked by his admission.

"What are you saying," she asked.

"That I probably loved you even before that moment," he said, "but that's when I realized the fullness of it was when I thought I was going to lose you."

She tucked her head against his chest again and held him, just as he held her.

"I remember a little bit…"

"How…"

She heard the puzzlement in his voice and took a deep breath before she shared a part of her perspective with him.

"I was out most of the time," she said, "I just remember intense pain…then slipping away…and that you were there holding onto me to keep me from getting lost…"

"I was afraid that you'd slip away the minute I stopped looking."

She stroked his hand.

"I felt pain…and then peace, which grabbed me with its intensity…and then I saw you holding my hand and telling me to hold on, that you would get me to a doctor."

"There was a young fellow helping me," Matt said, "but he was only a medical student."

"It was so nice where I was," she said, "but I didn't want to leave…because something brought me back…the feeling that someone loved me so much, it physically pulled me back."

He thought back to that early morning, when the sunlight had streamed through a small window near the top of the lighthouse, the morning after the longest night of his life when he knew that he had to find a way for them to escape…and suddenly like a whisper in his ear, it had come to him. And they had made it just in time for C.J. to have the surgery needed to save her life. A life that had continued onward with both its joy and struggles, including her car accident and bout of amnesia that had left her stranded inside a jail facility in some forgotten town caught up in a prostitution ring. She had felt the intense joy that he had when Matt had rescued his long-lost cousin Will and sorrow at the price paid with the loss of their dear friend, Too-Mean Malone. She had lost a close friend of her own from her childhood when she and Matt had been trying to uncover corruption in another small town. When her beloved friend's plane had landed on the airstrip safely and they had pulled the coffin out of it, she had nearly collapsed and grabbing her in his embrace had been her dearest friend. The same one who held her now. The same one who would always be there with her if she would only allow him in her heart.

"I felt you come back," Matt said, "I had your hand in mine and there was no pulse. I thought for sure I'd lost you but then I felt you come back to me…On my wedding day to Elizabeth, I remembered that promise I had made…"

But a man from his past hell bent on revenge had stopped that wedding or so she had believed, until Matt had told her that he and Elizabeth had broken off their engagement after discovering how very different they were and that their lives could never mesh in a way that could make them happy.

Elizabeth had said goodbye and had stroked his cheek assuring him that he would someday find someone to complement him as would she before she walked away. And Matt hadn't been in the mood to listen that day but on this day, with his arms and his heart wrapped around the woman who had been an integral part of his life, he realized that he hadn't had to look far and wide at all.

"C.J…I love you," he said, softly and then louder.

He waited for a response before he realized she had fallen asleep, her head resting against his chest and his hand clasped in hers.