by Diana Palmer
Cane’s face grew hard. “Is she disappointed that I made it?”
“What a vile thing to say,” Tank muttered.
“Especially considering that she spent the night in the lobby,” Mallory added coolly.
Cane averted his eyes. “Guilty conscience, probably,” he said irritably, “from starting a fight with me before the wreck.”
“You snapped at her first, I’ll remind you,” Tank told him, with a bite in his voice. “She doesn’t start trouble. You do.”
Cane glared at him. “Shows what you know! She’s always sniping at me, always on about marriage and kids and picket fences…!”
“I kind of like those things,” Tank said solemnly. “And Bodie’s a sweet kid. She’s got a heart as big as Wyoming.”
Cane’s black eyes flashed. “She’s too young for you.”
Tank’s eyebrows arched up. “I’m younger than you by two years.” He pursed his lips. “Just right for her. Besides, she likes me.”
Cane’s face went hard as stone. “If you have anything to do with her, I’ll never speak to you again!”
“What I do with her is my business,” Tank shot back.
Mallory moved in between them. “This is a hospital and you’re in no condition to start a fight,” he told Cane firmly. “You’re here to get better.”
Cane made a sound deep in his throat. He glared at Tank, who glared right back.
“She’s poor and you’ve got money,” Cane told Tank after a minute, with unusual venom in his tone. “It’s easy to love a rich man, isn’t it?”
“You think money is my only attribute?” Tank growled.
“I know it’s mine,” Cane bit off. He lay back on the pillows and looked up at the ceiling. “It’s the only thing about me that women like.”
Mallory and Tank exchanged worried looks.
“I wish I had a drink,” Cane grumbled.
“You’re going into rehab when you get out of here,” Mallory said shortly. “I’ve had enough. You need to stop wallowing in self-pity and get a life.”
Cane gaped at him. So did Tank.
“I mean it,” Mallory replied tersely. “You’re my brother and I love you. I’m not going to stand by while you self-destruct. You need to come to grips with the fact that you’re disabled and learn to cope. The world hasn’t ended. You’re still alive. You were spared for a reason. You need to find out what it was.”
Cane was still gaping at him.
Mallory shifted uncomfortably. “Yes, I’m getting religious,” he said self-consciously. “Stress does that to people. We’ve been out of our minds with worry. We were told that you might not make it. We didn’t tell Bodie, but she refused to leave the hospital just the same.” He jerked his head toward the door. “The doctor said that the ICU nurse was concerned enough to let Bodie sit in here with you for a few minutes. Whatever she said to you, it brought you back when you were drifting away. You can’t find anything better to do than insult her, but she’s very likely the reason you’re well enough to grumble about her this morning.”
Cane averted his eyes. He was hearing something in the back of his mind, a soft voice, laced with tears, whispering to him. He remembered with a jolt what he’d heard. Bodie had said that she…
He caught his breath. He couldn’t even say the words in the privacy of his own thoughts. It was too overwhelming. What she’d said shamed and embarrassed him. It tantalized him with possibilities. It made him feel…whole again. But she wasn’t here and he was being unreasonable because he wanted Bodie and she’d deserted him.
The nurse came in, smiling. “We’re moving you to a room, Mr. Kirk. Sorry, but you’ll have to leave while we get everything ready. You can see him again in a few minutes.”
Mallory chuckled. “No need to apologize. We’ll see you later,” he told Cane.
“I could use some coffee,” Tank remarked.
“Me, too,” Cane replied.
“No,” the nurse said. “Not just yet. No caffeine.”
Cane made a face at her.
She laughed. “If you’re nice, you can have ice cream for lunch.”
Cane’s eyebrows lifted. He grinned at her. “Okay. I’ll be good.”
She smiled back, flushing a little, because he was very handsome.
Cane saw her interest and his black eyes twinkled.
Mallory and Tank shook their heads. Cane was already getting back to normal, flirting with the nurse. It wasn’t a good sign for poor Bodie.
* * *
LATER, SETTLED IN HIS ROOM, Cane was more animated, although his fractured ribs were giving him some problems.
“That sure hurts,” he murmured, touching the rib belt.
“It will get easier,” Tank said. “I had broken ribs, after the shoot-out,” he said. It was the first time he’d spoken of it in a long time.
Cane frowned. “I’d forgotten. Sorry.”
Tank shrugged. “It gets easier. Once you face it.”
Cane grimaced. “I haven’t done that. Not yet.”
“Isn’t it about time you did?” Tank asked gently. “Breaking up bars and wrecking cars isn’t going to do it for you.”
“Which reminds me, we had a call from the sheriff’s deputy who worked the wreck last night,” Mallory said solemnly. “You’re being charged with driving under the influence.”
Cane sighed, grimacing as it lifted his rib cage and provoked more pain. “Nothing less than I deserve,” he confessed sheepishly. “Better call our attorneys. I’m going to need representation.”
“Already did,” Mallory replied. “He said it’s possible we might plead it down if you’ll promise to get help.”
Cane looked irritated, but he didn’t speak. He moved his head on the pillow. “I’ve tried to get help,” he said after a minute. “They send me to people who hang out on social networks and expect me to talk to them like an old friend as soon as we’re introduced.”
“You need to talk to someone you trust.”
“Ha!” Cane exclaimed. “Well, that will be a short list.”
“How about us?” Tank asked. “We’re your family. We won’t judge.”
Cane made a face. “Yes, we’re family, and we’re close. But there are things I…can’t tell you.”
“We can find a private psychologist.”
Cane glared at Mallory when he suggested it. “Same problem I had with the military one. I can’t open up to somebody I don’t know. There are trust issues.”
“There’s one other possibility,” Mallory said.
Tank glared at him. “Bad idea,” he muttered.
Cane stared at his brothers. “What’s a bad idea?”
“You’re always talking to Bodie when you get drunk,” Mallory said with a quiet smile. “Why can’t you talk to her when you’re sober?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“I DO NOT TALK TO BODIE!” Cane exploded. “Not even when I’m drunk.”
“That’s not what I hear,” Mallory replied.
Cane averted his eyes, flushed with anger. “She’s just a kid.”
“Okay,” Mallory said, placating him. “Bad idea. You were right,” he said to Tank, who seemed to relax a little.
“Bodie’s got her own problems,” Tank said quietly. “She’s still dealing with the loss of her grandfather. And if they do charge Will over his website, some of those pictures of Bodie may turn up somewhere. If they do, she’ll never live it down. It will destroy her.”
“Wait. What charges?” Cane asked, blinking.
“There’s gossip that the sheriff’s investigator found enough to indict Will Jones for trafficking in pornography involving underage women.”
“Finally!” Cane said. “That’s great news.”
“Yes, except that it will put Bodie on the firing line,” Tank returned curtly. “Will had a movie camera he was using to film her with his buddy. You knocked the computer off and probably broke the hard drive with the images, but he still has the camera and whatever’s on it.”
Neither of them said anything, but Tank looked irritated. Mallory knew that his youngest brother was nursing feelings for Bodie. But judging from the way Cane reacted, it was a growing possibility that he himself had feelings for her, as well. Feelings he wasn’t admitting.
“Isn’t it a good idea to head off trouble?” Cane asked, thinking aloud. “Find a computer expert who can search for any images of Bodie and wipe them?”
Mallory and Tank looked at each other. “Red Davis,” they said in unison.
Cane nodded.
“I’ll get him on it ASAP,” Mallory replied. “Good idea.”
“Except that it’s a big internet and search strings aren’t always reliable,” Tank said worriedly. “I’d hate to have Bodie exposed like that for people to see.”
“So would I,” Mallory added.
“It’s her own damned fault,” Cane said angrily. “She should have told Will to take his computer fantasies and go to hell with them.”
“She could have, if any of us had known how strapped for cash she and her grandfather were,” Mallory said reasonably.
“And,” Tank added with venom, “if you hadn’t sent her running and made her feel cheap for asking you for help.”
“I thought she was being frivolous,” Cane bit off, “like every other damned woman who comes on to me and wanted money just because I have it!”
“Bodie’s not like that, Cane,” Tank told him flatly. “And if you can’t see it, then that’s your loss. She’s one fine woman.”
“She’s a kid,” Cane emphasized, and he wouldn’t meet his brother’s eyes.
“Some kid,” Tank chuckled. “There’s a community dance this Saturday. I’m going to ask her to go with me.”
“Like hell you are!” Cane flashed furiously. “You’re not dating her! Not while there’s a breath in my body!”
“Well, she won’t date you,” Tank said smugly. “Not after how you’ve treated her.”
Cane averted his eyes. “I have my doubts about that,” he said quietly. He was remembering Bodie’s soft voice, laced with tears, whispering to him in the silence of the hospital room. “I really do.”
The brothers exchanged puzzled glances and then changed the subject.
* * *
BODIE WAS FEEDING THE chickens when the big car drove up, with Cane in the backseat nursing his ribs.
She carried the bucket with the chicken feed in it with her, standing quietly by the front steps as the men got out of the car. She was wearing jeans and a gray sweatshirt. She looked very small, and tired—and flushed with subdued excitement.
“How are you?” she asked Cane hesitantly.
He glared at her. “Better, no thanks to you!”
She flushed and turned on her heel to go back to the chickens, fighting tears.
“Bodie,” Cane ground out. “Come back. I’m sorry.”
She stopped, but she didn’t go back. “It’s okay,” she said in a husky tone. “I’ve got…chores to do. Glad you’re home.” She kept walking.
“Damn!” Cane ground out. “Damn!”
“Keep it up,” Tank mused, smiling. “Helps me out, a lot.” He turned and started after Bodie.
“You ask her, and I’m moving out of the house!” Cane threatened.
“Your choice.” Tank kept walking.
“Calm down,” Mallory told his injured brother firmly. “You won’t solve any problems by yelling at the top of your lungs. Come inside and let’s get you settled. You don’t need to start a fight the minute you set foot on the place.”
Cane didn’t reply. He was sick and sore and hurting, and he hated Tank. He really hated him. Tank was going to soothe Bodie’s wounded feelings. She might turn to him, in her heartache. Cane was so unsettled by the thought that he tripped on the steps and had to have Mallory catch him.
“Okay, up to bed,” Mallory said firmly. “You’re in no shape to do anything yet.”
“Maybe you’re right.” Cane let the older man help him up the staircase to his room. “Tank wants her,” he muttered coldly.
“She’s very pretty,” Mallory said simply. “And Tank’s been alone a long time. You don’t want Bodie. You should be happy that your brother is finally getting involved with someone.”
Cane turned and stared at his older brother. “She’s mine,” he bit off. “Mine!”
Mallory’s eyebrows arched in surprise.
“And I’m not giving her up,” Cane added. “Not until she tells me herself that I haven’t got a chance with her. And that,” he said curtly, “isn’t even a possibility. She loves me.”
“And you know that, how?” Mallory queried softly.
“Because she told me so, in the hospital, when she thought I was unconscious,” Cane replied, his voice subdued and quiet. “I was slipping. I felt myself going. Then she held my hand and talked to me, told me to fight, told me I couldn’t give up and die.” He shifted down onto the bed with a heavy sigh. He looked up at Mallory with pure wonder in his tone. “She said that I was the handsomest man she’d ever known.”
Mallory smiled. “You’re not bad,” he conceded. “Not a patch on me, of course.”
Cane laughed, as he was meant to, because Mallory might be tough and capable, but he was the ugliest of the three brothers and everyone knew it.
“Nice of her to boost your spirits,” Mallory said.
Cane flushed. “She wasn’t saying it for that reason. She meant it,” he replied.
“Then you don’t have to worry about Tank cutting in on your territory, do you?” Mallory asked.
“I suppose not.” He lay back on the bed after Mallory pulled off his street shoes for him. “Thanks,” he said.
Mallory smiled. “You’re welcome.”
“I shouldn’t have snapped at her like that,” Cane said sadly. “I don’t know why I go for her throat every chance I get. I mean, she’s the only person outside my family who ever gave a damn about me. She’s rescued me from bar brawls half a dozen times. She and Darby came looking for me after I left the bar, saved my life. First thing I say to her is an insult, after all that.”
“Could be that you’re conflicted,” Mallory suggested. “You know how Bodie feels. But how do you feel?”
Cane lifted his eyes to the ceiling and frowned. “I don’t want to get married.”
“Well, Bodie’s not the sort of girl you can have a loose relationship with,” Mallory cautioned. “She doesn’t just do lip service to her ideals. She really feels them.”
“I know that. It complicates things.” He sighed. “I want her,” he confessed. “I have for a long time, ever since she was old enough for that sort of thing. I’ve kept it hidden, until recent days.” He glanced at Mallory, who sat down on the bed beside him. “She doesn’t care that I’m…disabled,” he said after a minute. “I mean, she really doesn’t mind it. Not like that woman in the bar who said she couldn’t sleep with a one-armed man because the thought of it was repulsive to her.” He clenched his teeth together. The memory still hurt.
“You never used to resort to trying to pick up women in bars,” Mallory reminded him. His own face hardened. “And I’ll remind you that that sort of woman isn’t likely to use soft soap with any man—any more than a prostitute would. No woman who doesn’t care for a man is going to be sympathetic.”
“Unless the price is right,” Cane said cynically.
“Money talks.”
“It shouts.”
Mallory nodded. He cocked his head. “You know, as you get older, that playboy image is going to lose its sheen. You’ll see kids playing in the yard here when mine come along, Tank’s if he marries someone. You’ll be left behind, living from bedroom to bedroom, with nobody to come home to who gives a damn if you live or die. It’s a pretty dismal picture from my point of view.”
“Marriage is a t
rap. Not for you,” Cane added quickly. “You and Morie are like soul mates. I’m happy for you. But I can’t give up my freedom for any woman.”
“What is freedom?” Mallory asked philosophically.
“I can come and go as I please. Date anyone I please. Sleep with anyone I please.” He laughed hollowly. “Except that I don’t please anybody, like this.” He indicated what was left of his arm. He bit his lip and drew in a deep breath. “Mal, I haven’t…slept with a woman since this happened,” he confessed heavily.
Mallory was shocked. “You’ve been very vocal about approaching women....”
“Approaching, yes. Trying to prove that I could still function as a man.” Cane averted his eyes. “Nobody wants me like this.”
“That’s not true.”
Cane sighed. “Bodie does, I know,” he said. “But she comes with strings attached. A wedding ring. Marriage. A family.” He looked at Mallory. “I’m not ready for that.”
“You’re thirty-four years old. You’re ruining your life, Cane. Drinking isn’t going to help. It’s just going to land you in jail eventually. The wreck was a warning. You were tapped on the shoulder and reprimanded. Somewhere down the line, tragedy is waiting for you. And for us, because we’re your family and we love you. This isn’t an experience I ever want to repeat. You don’t know what it took out of us, in the hospital waiting to see if you lived or died.”
Cane frowned. He hadn’t considered the feelings of the other people around him. He’d only been concerned with himself. He felt suddenly guilty as he recognized the unfamiliar strain on his brother’s face, the new lines carved into it over the fraught few days.
“I think I’m beginning to,” Cane said quietly.
“Your behavior doesn’t just affect you,” Mallory counseled. “It affects everyone who loves you.”
“I’ve been pretty selfish.”
“You’ve been troubled,” Mallory replied gently. “I know what you’ve gone through because of the accident. Tank understands even better than I do, because he’s been there himself. But Tank is coping and you’re not. I don’t want you to end up in jail.”
Cane smiled wanly. “Thanks. I’m not keen on that idea myself.”