It took a little time to convince him she could get herself home okay, but at last he left, promising to let her tell her family when she had things sorted out better.
She found a quiet corner and called Teo, filling him in. After that, she left a message for April that she wouldn’t be in the office today, as well as giving her instructions to reschedule a meeting.
Then her phone rang with the promised call from Vince’s contact at CPS. Somehow she managed not to sound as desperate as she felt or as strung out from lack of sleep as she really was. She found a scrap of paper in her purse and made notes about what to gather up for them to consider her for foster parent status. The woman expressed doubts about a single woman taking a teenage boy into her home, so Jenna didn’t bring up Damien just then, apologizing silently to the little boy and hoping her earlier call to them would result in some action to safeguard him.
She’d get to Damien as soon as she could. Maybe Roman—
Roman roared back into her thoughts, front and center, as he’d been most of the night.
Where was he? Was he all right?
Why wasn’t he here?
The woman came back on the phone, and Jenna had to put Roman aside in order to take care of the boy he had rescued just in the nick of time.
* * *
AS IF HE’D CONJURED JENNA, she reappeared, heading his way. Quickly he slipped to the side near the double doors that led to the E.R. so he was hidden but where he could still see her face.
She was hugging Vince, telling him goodbye. Shaking her head as he clearly offered to see her home, holding up her cell phone as if to say she had business to take care of.
Vince gave in. Nodded and hugged her again, then ruffled her hair, which probably drove her nuts.
But she smiled, and this was a real one. Her eyes were clear, if tired, and the pinched look of anxiety she’d worn for the past few hours was gone.
Now she looked determined as she punched in numbers.
It was his turn to smile. Heaven help whoever was on the other end. His bet was on Jenna. Whatever she wanted, the person on the other end didn’t stand a chance.
He saw the security guard look at him suspiciously, so he grabbed some brochures and bent his head to peruse them, keeping an eye on Jenna over the top of them. She engaged in a fervent conversation, head shaking, hands gesturing, every cell of her focused on her goal.
Yep, his bet was on her.
When at last she disconnected and appeared, if not smug, certainly satisfied, he found himself smiling again.
Attagirl. But she wasn’t a girl, he knew only too well. She was a woman, an extraordinary one. She had a fire in her for saving the world, and the world, like her caller, didn’t stand a chance.
She made two more quick calls, then left, making another one as she walked.
He lingered, still keeping her in sight, then followed.
She had to be completely exhausted, but still her step was sure, that red-gold hair bouncing as if she hadn’t spent hours under tremendous strain.
She was a miracle, all right.
Just not for him. Save yourself for that lucky as hell kid up there, he silently cautioned. And forget me.
But all the way to her place, he found himself remembering the precious moments with her when sunshine had filled his arms and crept into his cold, dead heart.
He watched her until she was safely inside, more tempted than he’d been by anything in years to cut off his engine and knock on her door. She’d let him in, he knew it. She might hold him in those arms again.
It would be heaven for him.
But it would be the worst thing that could happen to her.
Roman put his truck in gear and left.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
JENNA LAY ON HER MATTRESS, trying to summon the energy to rise. She’d only intended to nap a little, but from the drool stain on her comforter, she’d gone down hard.
Impressive, she congratulated herself. Sometimes it’s better to live alone.
She lifted her head to catch a glimpse of her alarm clock.
And bolted up straight. Seven o’clock? In the evening? Shadows filled her room and spread through the house. She staggered from the bed and regretted the fact that this was not morning, when she would have had the coffeemaker all set to go.
It probably wasn’t smart to be drinking coffee this late, anyway, given that she had a whole lot to do tomorrow and couldn’t afford to be wide-eyed tonight.
Shower, she thought sluggishly. Now. One word sentences were all she was capable of at the moment. Once under the spray, she moaned aloud. She felt like she’d taken a beating yesterday.
Her eyes flew open. Freddie. Roman. She took the quickest shower on record and raced for her phone, dialing the direct number to the ICU she’d been given. After conversing with the night nurse, who was about to take over, her worries were eased a little. A very little.
Freddie was still stable. Nothing about his condition had changed, except the pressure inside his skull had gone down, if only a bit. Vince had been by to see him once, about an hour ago.
Good man.
But no other visitors.
She made a mental note to take something for the nursing staff. She’d learned from Caroline that the night staff seldom got goodies such as those brought to the nurses on the day shift by patients’ families.
She dressed hurriedly, this time in comfortable jeans, and though she was starving, she only took long enough to eat a carton of yogurt while staring out the window over her kitchen sink.
The encroaching night made her recall the hours she’d spent with Roman, searching for Freddie. Where are you, Roman? Are you all right? Are you alone? She feared he probably was, and yes, Diego had spoken of the months when his own most fervent desire was to be left alone to heal. But he’d also admitted that those who loved him had helped bring him back from that dark place he’d been trapped inside.
But Roman needed to bring up the subject himself, she’d acknowledged to Diego.
Only for that to happen, they’d have to be in contact—in person, not on the phone—though now that she thought about it, she’d never seen him with a cell phone. What if he never came back to work? Would he go to Ray’s, after he’d been so uncomfortable with the fuss made over him? She doubted it. Would he truly never return to the hospital to check on Freddie?
Why hadn’t she made him tell her where he lived?
Because I was trying to respect his privacy.
She still should, but she didn’t want to. She was worried about him.
As she checked her phone messages, Roman was very much on her mind. Maybe Vince could help her figure out how to track him down. Roman had said he didn’t live far from the job site, so if she canvassed the area…
A glance at the clock had her rinsing out the carton hastily and dropping it in the recycling bin. A quick trip to brush her teeth and gather her things, then out the door.
* * *
FREDDIE’S COLOR WAS certainly better than the last time Jenna had seen him. “Thank you,” she said to the night nurse, Cal, “for all you’re doing. He doesn’t have anyone.”
“He seems to have you.” Cal grinned. “One person can make all the difference.”
She’d always believed that herself, that you had to light up your own corner of the world; that every person touched others and if you treated people in a kind manner, if you walked around with a positive attitude, it would impact others, and they would pass it along.
“I just hope the CPS people will agree.”
“Yeah, I heard about that. You’re trying to become his foster mother?” He arched an eyebrow. “You’ve got guts.”
“He’s not a bad kid. He’s been thrown out on his own, and he’s done the best he could.”
>
“Sad world out there,” Cal said as he made notes and checked the PCA meter that measured out the pain meds Freddie was getting intravenously.
“Not all sad, though,” she said. Sheesh. Could she sound any more like Pollyanna? “But I guess you see a lot of bad things in here.”
“Yep.” Cal nodded. “Good stuff, too. Plus a miracle, now and again.”
“I like that. That you believe in miracles, I mean.”
“Sometimes there’s no other explanation. Excuse me—I have to go make some notes,” he said, and walked outside the cubicle, leaving her alone with Freddie.
She squeezed his hand. “You’re doing great, Freddie. Just rest up, okay? I hope they decide to wake you soon, so we can see how you are.” All the vital signs in the world wouldn’t reveal the state of his brain function, she’d learned.
She wanted that plucky kid back, the one who’d had all kinds of terrible things thrown at him and still scrapped and fought to survive.
“The CPS lady said they’re investigating Damien’s situation,” she told Freddie. “At worst, Damien’s mother has been put on notice that she’s being observed. I’m sorry—it’s the best I can do right now. I have to prove myself with you first, but when you’re home with me, we’ll go visit him and we’ll keep an eye on him, okay?”
She was putting the cart before the horse. The social worker had told her that the special circumstances were being taken into consideration, but she’d made no guarantees. It would be better if you’d had other children, the woman had said. Or if you weren’t so young.
Jenna had argued. Put her best foot forward, pointing out that she was responsible for the Foundation, that she had not only her own resources but a whole extended family to offer Freddie.
The woman wouldn’t promise anything, though. Jenna guessed she understood, but…
If there was a father in the picture, that would help, the woman had said.
Immediately Jenna thought of Roman.
For all the good that did. Teo hadn’t seen him or heard from him. She was a long way from giving up on him, though, Diego’s advice notwithstanding. And not simply because he was troubled. He touched something in her no man ever had. Drew her like a compass to true north, a pull beyond her ability to resist.
Even if she wanted to.
“It’s getting late,” she said to Freddie. “But tomorrow’s another day.” Good grief. Now she was channeling Scarlett O’Hara.
And look how that had ended.
But she hadn’t done anything to Roman to compare to how Scarlett had screwed over Rhett. If she were Rhett, she’d have left Scarlett, too. Only sooner.
Jenna laughed at herself. “Have you ever watched Gone with the Wind, Freddie?” She stroked his cheek. “One of these days we’ll make a big tub of popcorn, and I’ll torture you with it. My brothers all hate it, but Mom and I watch it once a year, without fail.”
“Jenna, I’m sorry,” said Cal from the door, “but it’s time for you to go.”
She nodded, then bent and pressed a kiss to Freddie’s forehead. “Sweet dreams. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” With one last pat to his hand, she left. “Bye, Cal.”
“Thanks for the treats. I shared. Everyone loves you.”
She grinned. “It’s not enough to repay you for the important work that you do.”
Cal shrugged. “It’s a start.”
Jenna went through the double doors and down the hall out of the ICU/surgical area. When she reached the hospital lobby, she couldn’t help contrasting her feelings with how crazy scared she’d been the night before.
Nothing was resolved, but Freddie was safe, and good people were caring for him.
That wasn’t nothing.
She crossed to the parking garage and found her car. She was still not sleepy even though her body was weary, so she decided to stop at the store and pick up some groceries.
That made her smile. She’d get some things a growing teenage boy would want, sort of a good-luck totem to ensure that in a few days, Freddie would be staying there with her.
That made her start thinking about how to prepare her spare bedroom. What colors did Freddie like? How would he decorate it if he were choosing?
The juices started flowing again. Decorating the room was something positive she could do, and maybe the leap of faith would help shift the balance.
Freddie would be staying with her, sooner or later.
Think positive.
* * *
ROMAN WAS RESTLESS. He’d slept fitfully after returning from the hospital, then finally given up and begun work on Abuela’s property. He’d decided to build new shelving for the garage out of the scrap lumber he’d saved. He’d worked until he’d lost the light, then moved into the house to tear out threadbare carpeting.
It was after nine now. He couldn’t remember what he’d eaten and wasn’t really hungry, but he needed to keep up his strength.
Why, though? The question stumped him. He set down his tools, let his hands fall to his sides.
What was he doing? Where was he headed?
For a long time after the crash, he’d been focused on not dying, then on getting on his feet again, then on building strength. There’d been months of wandering back roads, hitching rides, doing day work.
Letting Abuela die alone.
When he’d finally shown up in Austin, learning that she was gone had knocked him off his footing again. He’d poured himself into making amends for failing her by fixing everything that so sorely needed it, that—damn it—would have been such a boon and a pleasure to her if she’d been there to see it. If only he hadn’t abandoned her to spend months trying to escape the muddle inside his head.
Yeah, that had worked well.
Months had gone by now, and he’d made the place sound—for what? Was he going to sell it? Would he stay?
What the hell did he want out of life, now that he was back in the land of the living?
Besides her. Jenna.
That, he could not have. Yes, his episodes had diminished in number, but he was afraid of the physical damage he could do when he was locked inside those flashbacks. That hadn’t happened often, but Jenna was too precious to risk.
So what else was left? Stay a hermit? Or get off his ass and take a chance?
God, she was so beautiful—pretty in that girl-next-door, all-American way on the outside, but inside—where it counted—bone-deep gorgeous. She had the best heart he’d ever known, sunnier even than Abuela’s and every bit as large.
He wanted her with every breath, every cell, every thought.
He knew why he wanted her, but the question was, did she want him? Why the hell would she? All he’d done was bark at her and push her away—okay, except for a couple of kisses that meant nothing.
Except that they’d meant everything to him.
But he returned to his original point—what did he have to offer her? A screwed-up mind he couldn’t trust? A body that was battered all to hell? A heart that was so rusty it was a lost cause?
He didn’t have any answers. And he was afraid to ask her the questions.
He would go for a run. That helped when nothing else would, simply getting out and racing past everything he couldn’t think through and all that he was spending too much time obsessing over, letting fresh air clear the fog in his head until either he wore himself out—
Or something became clear.
He changed quickly and took off as though the hounds of hell were hot on his trail. A few blocks later, he found himself charting a new course.
One that would take him right past Jenna’s.
You are pathetic, he chided himself. He wouldn’t stop when he got there. But he could at least be sure she was home and safe.
* * *
T
OMORROW SHE WAS GOING to seek out Roman, Jenna decided as she pulled into her driveway and stopped the car. The solution to finding him was embarrassingly simple—only her worry and exhaustion could explain why she’d forgotten that Ray and Fayrene knew exactly where Roman’s grandmother’s home was. Duh, Jenna. Surely he was staying there, wasn’t he? What had he said about that? She tried to recall as she got out of the car and opened the rear left door to retrieve her groceries.
Then suddenly she was yanked backward and slammed against the vehicle. Groceries went flying.
“You call the cops on me, bitch?” Mako loomed over her, his face in the streetlight a mask of fury, his eyes frightening.
Go for the soft areas, she remembered her brothers teaching her. She brought up her knee between his legs, but he dodged to the side with a grunt.
He retaliated with a blow to her head that made her ears ring.
She tried to stab his eyes, but he slapped away her hand. Then his fist shot out and hit her head so hard she couldn’t think. Her world became pain.
“I didn’t call them—” Have to buy time was the only strategy she could come up with. But for what? Who would rescue her? She opened her mouth to scream so her neighbors would hear her—
He slapped his hand over her mouth. Shoved her backward. Her head slammed into the roof, and for a second she blacked out.
When she came to an instant later, there was a pistol jammed beneath her jaw. “What about all your talk about second chances, huh? Gonna help me, you say? Crazy bitch, you didn’t mean none of it. That boyfriend of yours, he threaten my boys. Talk shit about me.”
“I—” Her knees collapsed beneath her.
He hauled her up by the front of her shirt. Jammed his face right in front of hers, spittle flying. “Don’t talk to me, bitch!” He grabbed her breast and squeezed so hard she cried out. “Yeah. You scared now?” He closed his hand over the neck of her blouse and ripped it open. “Scared yet? He say I better be scared of him, huh?”
He grabbed her jeans and yanked on them but couldn’t get them down with only one hand.
She managed to bring up her arms between his, keys extended between her fingers as she’d been taught, and went for his eyes.
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