A Cavanaugh Christmas

by Marie Ferrarella

  Rather than cowering in a corner, the little girl came running over to Kait. Tears welled up in her eyes and streamed down her cheeks.

  “You’re hurt. Did she kill you?” she cried, clearly frightened but unwilling to back away from the woman who had rescued her.

  “Nope… Takes…more than…that…to kill me.” Despite her desire to reassure Megan by making light of the situation, Kate had to struggle to force each word out of her mouth. They emerged in slow motion.

  In the background, she heard Tom yelling something into his cell phone that sounded like, “Officer down, officer down.”

  It took her a full moment to realize he was calling about her and not someone else.

  “You’re…safe now…Megan. She…can’t…hurt…you.”

  It was the last thing Kait remembered saying. As she tried to lift her hand to stroke the little girl’s hair, she felt everything pulling away from her.

  And then it went completely dark.

  Was she on fire?

  The burning sensation that seared through her, encompassing her back, hurt like hell. As she tried to take in a breath, she found it hurt even more.

  Disoriented, Kait tried to make out shapes. That was when she realized that her eyes were shut. Opening them took almost all the strength she had.

  What was going on here?

  After what felt like an eternity, she finally did manage to open her eyes. Blinking, Kait slowly focused on her surroundings.

  White.

  Hospital bed.

  She was lying in a hospital bed. Why? What was she doing here? And why did it hurt so much to breathe?

  Kait struggled to sit up and found, to her everlasting exasperation, that she couldn’t. She was just too weak and in too much pain to pick up more than just her head. “Damn it.”

  The whispered, vehement curse jolted Tom out of the semisleep that had slipped over him. With a start he realized that he must have finally lost the battle against complete exhaustion, a place he’d come to after pacing the length of the hallway, going to hell and back more times than he could count as he waited for Kait to come out of surgery.

  When he saw her surgeon approaching, he’d pounced on the man, getting to him before he could even take down his surgical mask.

  “She’s a very lucky young woman,” Dr. Meyers had told him, sharing the news with the throng of people who’d come to keep vigil once word had spread that Kait had been stabbed. “Less than a quarter of an inch lower and you’d be standing over her casket right now.”

  Brian had woven his way to his nephew and the surgeon. “Then she’s going to be all right?” he asked.

  Dr. Meyers nodded. “She’s a strong woman. She’ll be fine—as long as she gives herself some time to heal and doesn’t jump right back into work.” He looked at Brian knowingly. “I know how you people can be.”

  “We’ll make sure she gets plenty of rest,” Sean assured the physician, then looked at his son and smiled encouragingly. “She’s a survivor, Tom. Everything about her says it.”

  Tom barely remembered nodding. Everything inside him quivered. Now that he knew she was going to live, all the emotions he’d been holding at bay exploded, threatening to decimate his knees.

  “You want to go home and get some sleep?” Bridget asked, moving closer to him. “I’ll stay with her until you get back.”

  “Or I can,” he heard Kendra offer from the back of the crowd.

  There was no way he was going to leave the hospital. Not until he saw Kait regain consciousness.

  “No, that’s okay. I want to be here when she opens her eyes.” He looked at Brian. “That knife was intended for me. She put herself in harm’s way for me.” There was guilt and agony in every syllable.

  He could tell by Brian’s expression that he wasn’t telling the chief of detectives anything that the man didn’t already know.

  Brian patted him on the shoulder. “Hell of a girl you’ve got there, Tom,” he said with unabashed deep admiration.

  He turned his attention to the people in the waiting room and beyond. All of them had gathered here to support Tom and the woman who had saved their cousin’s life. Now that they knew she was going to pull through, it was time to give Tom a little space.

  “Okay, let’s clear out and give the man some breathing room,” he told the others.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Brian saw the relieved expression on one of the nurses’ face. More than one had passed by the waiting room, trying to convince the group to wait for word in shifts, or to appoint just one person who could serve as a messenger. The suggestions fell on deaf ears. No one wanted to go home and leave Tom at a time like this.

  Now they could.

  As they filed out past Tom, each had something encouraging to say. Sean brought up the rear, telling his son to “Call one of us if you need anything, anything at all.”

  Tom merely nodded his compliance, too overcome to speak.

  After his family had left, he’d gone to Kait’s room to wait until the orderlies brought her up from the recovery area. When they came in and moved her bed into the room, all he could think of was that she looked almost as pale as the sheet that covered her. Her drained complexion was a sharp contrast to the bright red blood that had pooled around her torso back in the Crammers’ yard.

  He’d been content to just sit beside her bed and watch her sleep because now at least he knew that she would eventually wake up. Reassured, he could wait no matter how long it took.

  Tom didn’t remember falling asleep, but obviously, he must have. The hoarsely voiced curse had crossed over his threshold of sleep and pulled him across it.

  He took a deep breath the moment his eyes flew open. “You’re awake.”

  “Apparently,” she mumbled.

  He’d almost lost her. He hadn’t realized how devastating that idea was until it had almost happened. Tom looked at her now, absorbing every nuance.

  He wanted to take her hand in his, but he refrained. He didn’t know if that would hurt her somehow and he couldn’t chance it.

  “How do you feel?”

  It took her a second to find the words. “Like a semi ran me over three times and then the driver set me on fire.” Why was it so tiring to talk? She felt incredibly exhausted. “What am I doing here?” she asked.

  The sudden lump in his throat made it hard to talk. “Recovering from surgery.”

  Her eyebrows drew together in an outward sign of confusion. “Surgery?” she echoed. Why had she needed surgery? Her mind was a complete blank.

  “That woman sank her pruning shears into your back up to the hilt.” And then his silent promise to remain calm went up in smoke as the horror of losing her replayed itself in his head. “What the hell were you thinking of, diving in front of her like that?”

  It suddenly came back to her. All of it. “I wasn’t diving in front of her,” she protested weakly. “I was pushing you out of the way.” She paused to draw in a breath and winced as she did so. Every single breath hurt. “By the way, you’re welcome,” she said.

  He couldn’t bring himself to thank her for what she’d done because if she’d died, he would have never forgiven himself. And never felt whole again. “You could have been killed,” he said angrily.

  “So could you,” she countered weakly. Another exhausted sigh escaped her lips. “If you’re here to give me a hard time, could I have a rain check? I’m really not up to it.”

  That meant she couldn’t argue back. “Couldn’t think of a better time, then,” he answered. And then his mouth softened into a smile. Moving his chair in closer, Tom lightly stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, thinking how lucky he was that he could do so. That she was still alive. “It was a stupid thing to do.”

  “Seemed smart on my end,” she told him with effort. She couldn’t remember it ever being this hard, this exhausting, to talk. “Couldn’t let Tom Cavanaugh get killed on my watch. Your whole family would have come after me.” The entire scene began to play it
self over again in her head. Her eyes widened slightly as she remembered. Kait reached for his hand, clutching it. “Megan?”

  He knew she was asking after the child’s whereabouts. One of Andrew’s daughters—Callie, he thought her name was—had taken the little girl to her house. “She’s fine. You’re her new hero.”

  Details flooded her brain. She had so much to do. “I have to call her parents, let them know we found her—”

  She tried to get up again, but Tom gently pushed her back down.

  “Already taken care of,” he assured her. “I called her parents right after you came out of surgery.” He couldn’t think coherently before he knew that she’d pull through. “Megan’s father arrived home from the Middle East just this morning. They’re both taking the first flight out of New Mexico they can get. Bridget’s on standby to pick them up the second they land.”

  Kait nodded and tried to smile. “That’s good.” The stabbing came back to her. “What about that woman?”

  “You mean Greta?” he asked just to be clear what she was asking.

  Kait set her mouth grimly. She would remember that awful guttural sound for a very long time. “Yeah, her.”

  He didn’t want to talk about Greta right now and merely said, “She won’t be bothering anyone anymore.”

  But Kait needed to know. “She’s dead?”

  He nodded grimly and was surprised to hear Kait murmur, “Poor woman.”

  “Why would you say that?” he asked. “She almost killed you.”

  That was only a piece of the story. There was more to it, the portion that tugged at her heart.

  “She lost her daughter and grief pushed her over the edge.” But there was one thing she couldn’t understand. Megan had been a little girl living in a different state. Why had Greta specifically come after her? “But why did she take Megan? Why not some other little girl?”

  He’d gotten the story from Brian, who’d had one of the other detectives interrogate Max Crammer. He was a broken man now that his wife was gone.

  “Greta was visiting a relative in New Mexico when she saw Megan playing in the park with some friends. According to Max, Megan looked identical to the little girl she’d lost ten years ago. Greta followed her home to see where she lived, then called her husband. She told him that she’d found Sally and insisted that he drive out here ‘in their white van.’”

  “Why was she so specific?” Kait asked.

  “Because that was the vehicle she was driving when she had the accident that killed her daughter. It wasn’t some guy who hit her daughter with a car, she did. Crammer said that his wife had been sinking deeper and deeper into depression since their daughter’s death and he was afraid for his wife’s sanity. His wife was all he had and he was desperate to save her. He was afraid if he didn’t find a way to keep her from sinking into a really black depression, she’d kill herself and he’d be all alone. That was why he did as she asked. He must have known she wanted to abduct the little girl,” he guessed. “That was why he doctored the driver’s license. Turns out he’s some kind of a shady computer wizard, so it was pretty easy for him to falsify documents.”

  There was desperation and there was decency. From what she’d seen, Crammer didn’t strike her as a cold-blooded kidnapper. “And he helped her kidnap Megan?” she asked incredulously.

  Tom spread his hands. “It was either that or watch her go crazy.”

  There was no “go” about it, Kait thought. “She was already there.”

  Tom laughed shortly. “Yeah, but a lot of people live in the state of denial,” he told her. “Especially when it comes to a loved one. But once his wife was dead, there was no reason for Crammer to lie to anyone anymore.”

  Finished with his explanation, Tom suddenly felt overwhelmed. He took her hand in his. God but she felt fragile, he couldn’t help thinking. As fragile as life could sometimes be. He shook his head, thinking how close he’d come to losing her.

  “I can’t believe you actually did that.”

  She raised her eyes to his. He’d lost her. “Which part?”

  There was only one part that mattered as far as he was concerned. “The part where you’re throwing yourself between that knife and me.”

  “You threw yourself on top of me that first day—when that carjacker was going to shoot me, remember?” she reminded him pointedly. “I was just trying to return the favor.”

  So that was what she’d meant when she said they were even. He thought she was in shock. The woman was far too cavalier.

  He reined in his anger because he knew that it was driven by fear. Fear that he could have lost her permanently. “That was different.”

  Her mouth felt dry but she forced the words out. “Why? Because you’re a man?”

  Frustrated, he said, “Shoot me, but yeah, because I’m a man and I’m supposed to be the protector.”

  She would have laughed if she could have, but she instinctively knew it would hurt too much. “And I’m a cop. I’m supposed to serve and protect.”

  He wouldn’t accept that excuse from her. Her scream when the other woman drove the shears into her back was going to haunt him for a long, long time. “That applies to private citizens.”

  Weak, tired, she still refused to let him win the argument. “That applies to everybody,” Kait contradicted. “News flash, Cavanaugh. It’s the twenty-first century. We’re equals. Some of us are just built a little softer than others.”

  Tom shook his head. “I’m never going to win an argument with you, am I?”

  Maybe it was her weakened state, but that almost sounded as if he was talking about the future. A life together would be impossible. The case was over. And she was going home.

  Still, she looked at him. “You make it sound as if arguing is going to be an ongoing thing between us.”

  He laughed shortly. “I figure, given your temperament, it will be.”

  He was just confusing her more. “You’re planning on calling New Mexico to harass me?”

  He answered her question with a question of his own. “You’re planning on going back?”

  Nothing was making sense to her right now. Her head was pounding. “Shouldn’t I be?”

  He didn’t want to corner her, not in this condition because then she could always say that he took advantage of her in a weakened state. When she made her decision, he wanted her to be able to think clearly.

  So all he said in response was, “I thought maybe you’d stick around here for a while.”

  “Why would I do that?” she asked him. “My job’s back in New Mexico.”

  He noticed she didn’t say that her life was back in New Mexico. At least that was a hopeful sign. “What if there was a job for you here?”

  “Somebody need another knife blocked?” she asked wryly.

  “No, but we could always use another good detective on the force,” Brian said, answering her quip as he walked into her room. He smiled warmly at her. “How are you doing, Kaitlyn?”

  She wanted to say “fine” but they all knew that was a lie. “It only hurts when I laugh.”

  “Then we’ll try not to make you laugh,” Brian promised.

  Kait looked from the chief of detectives to his nephew. Was it just her, or had they said what she thought they’d said? “Are you serious?”

  “About not making you laugh?” Brian asked.

  “No, the other thing.” Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her. “About there being a job here.”

  “Just say the word,” Brian told her. And then he added with knowing smile, “Oh, and by the way, I had a long talk with your lieutenant that first day you came here.”

  Groggy though she was, Kait knew that could only mean one thing. The lieutenant had told Brian that she was out here on vacation, not on official police business. “You knew.”

  Brian nodded. “I knew.”

  She didn’t understand. “Then why—”

  Brian kept his answer deliberately vague. “Sometimes a person has to do wh
at they have to do. There was a child involved. I didn’t think that a little slack was out of order.”

  She knew she’d liked the man for a reason. “Can we talk about the job later?” she asked. “I’m feeling a little tired right now.”

  “No problem,” Brian said.

  Or maybe it was Tom whom she heard. Kait couldn’t be completely sure. Everything seemed rather fuzzy all of a sudden.

  She drifted off the next moment.

  Chapter 16

  Kait felt something small and delicate brush against her face, like the fleeting kiss of a butterfly seeking some place to land. It slowly drew her out of the hazy, gauze-wrapped, shapeless universe she’d been timelessly floating through.

  With a start, Kait realized that she must have fallen asleep again. The last thing she could remember was seeing the chief of detectives and Tom in her room. Something about a job opening.

  Or maybe she’d dreamed that because it had made her feel wanted.

  But she wasn’t dreaming the soft, fluttery movement along her cheek. She could feel it.

  Her eyes were still closed. With effort, Kait opened them.

  Megan was peering into her face. The moment she opened her eyes, she saw the little girl smiling broadly at her.

  “You opened your eyes. You’re alive,” Megan declared happily.

  “I’m alive,” Kait confirmed, the words inching their way up an oddly hoarse throat.

  Still caught somewhere between dreams and reality, Kait blinked twice, trying to focus not just her eyes but her mind, as well. Both were still rather fuzzy.

  As her vision cleared, she saw that beside Megan, the little girl’s parents were standing around her bed. And Tom was in the background, standing off to the side. Watching her.

  Kait tried to smile at Amanda and Derek, but she wasn’t sure if the action was actually completed. She realized that Derek was still in his uniform. They must have come here directly from the airport.

  What were they all doing here? Was she dying? She felt incredibly achy and confused. Was that how you felt when you were dying?

  Amanda took her hand. “I don’t know how to thank you, Kait,” she said, tears filling her eyes. “I knew that when you made me that promise that you’d find our little girl. That you’d find Megan.” Her voice hitched a little and it took her a second to continue. “You’ve never broken a promise to me—ever—but I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you I was scared that maybe this time…?.” Amanda’s voice trailed off. She couldn’t finish her sentence.