by Nicole Helm
“My arm,” she mumbled. “Hurts. Under my arm.”
He didn’t know which one she was talking about, so gently he lifted the one closest to him, but she shook her head sluggishly.
He lifted the other one, found the bleeding, gaping wound right under her armpit. Not fatal, thank God, but they needed to stop the bleeding. Get her safe.
“Stabbed him, but he shot me.”
Ty nearly wept right there, but he held it together and took the first aid kit Zach handed him.
“We have to get her to a hospital,” he said, opening the case and pulling out all the bandages inside. He handed half to Zach to start unwrapping.
“How? On your bike?”
Ty shook his head, pressing the first pad of gauze to her wound. She hissed out a breath, but her eyes remained closed and her breathing was getting too shallow for his comfort. “What did Laurel say?”
“Trees down everywhere. Their cars were tampered with. The ambulance is trying to get up here, but without a road—”
“We’ll carry her to it, then.” Ty wrapped more bandages, as many as he could manage, as tight as he could manage, around her arm.
“I don’t know if you recall the fact your foot is torn to hell.”
“You’ll carry, then. We have to get her to that ambulance. We’ll bandage her up and get her out of here.”
“What about him?”
Ty didn’t even glance back at Braxton’s body. “He can rot in hell.”
Chapter Nineteen
“I convinced him to let my arms free.”
“How did you do that?” Thomas asked gently.
Jen sat in the hospital bed, tired and a little off from the drugs they’d given her, but she’d felt up to giving her statement to the police. She wanted to get it all out and over with, before the nurses let her family back in, before she saw Ty.
She wanted to get rid of all the ugliness so it could be behind her. “He told me he’d let my arms loose if I cut myself for him.”
Thomas raised an eyebrow as he wrote that down on his notepad.
“He was obsessed with blood. He seemed to lose his grasp on reality or humanity with every passing moment. The need for revenge against Ty sort of faded into...bloodlust I guess.” She shuddered again, was pretty sure she’d flash back to Braxton whenever she saw blood.
But she was alive and Braxton... “Thomas, is Braxton...”
“He made it to the hospital, but he’d lost too much blood.”
“Braxton said...” She swallowed against the wave of nausea—didn’t know if it had to do with the drugs or everything else. “He said he’d killed people.”
Thomas nodded solemnly. “Laurel’s been in touch with the authorities in Arizona. They’ve been able to connect him to an attack on his therapist, along with a murder of one of Oscar Villanueva’s victims.”
She slumped in her bed, far too aware that she could have easily been another of his murder victims.
“Do you want to stop for now? I can come back—”
“No. I want it over with.”
“All right. So, he untied you?”
“Yes, and then there was this noise and I took the moment of distraction to stab him, but he had a gun and he shot me. I’m not sure he meant to, it was more of an impulse response. I mean, he wanted to hurt me, but I don’t think he wanted to kill me yet. But things get fuzzy from there.”
“You don’t remember Zach and Ty coming in?”
“No. No, it just kind of goes blank. I remember talking to Ty in the cabin. He was trying to figure out how I was hurt. Will Ty be in trouble, since I can’t remember?”
“No. We have Zach’s statement, cut-and-dried self-defense. Ty will be fine.”
Jen nodded, closing her eyes against the fatigue.
“You should rest, Jen. I’ve got enough to build the case and file everything. I may need to ask you a few more questions in the future, depending on how everything goes, but we’re mostly done.”
Jen grimaced but she nodded. “All right.” She tried to smile. “Thank you.”
Thomas paused on his way out of the hospital room. “I’m... I wish we could have done more.”
Jen shook her head and sighed. “You did what you could. We all did. And now it’s over.”
Thomas nodded and slipped out the door. Jen allowed herself a moment of quiet, of release. They’d all done the best they could, and now it was over. Everyone she loved was safe, and she’d survived.
Everything was going to be okay.
It was an emotional acceptance because there had been a moment there, before she’d managed to convince him to take the straitjacket off, and for a second there after he’d shot her, where she’d been certain she was going to die.
But she was alive.
She heard the door swish open, and opened her eyes to see Ty. He had a crutch under one arm, and a medical boot on the foot.
She hadn’t seen him since the ambulance, and she’d been in and out at that point. But he’d held her hand the whole way to the hospital.
“You should’ve told Hart to scram.”
She held out her good arm to him. “I wanted it over. Did you sneak back here or are you allowed?”
He managed a smile. “Which do you think?” He moved over to her, relying on the crutch. She scooted to the side of the bed so he could slide onto it next to her.
They didn’t say anything else. He just wrapped his arms around her and she leaned into the strong wall of his chest.
She thought she might cry, but she didn’t. Instead, she just breathed. It was over, and she had this. Everything was okay.
She hadn’t realized she’d said it out loud until Ty spoke.
“Yeah it is,” he said before kissing her temple. “You know when they’ll spring you?”
“Tomorrow they said. They didn’t let you out already?”
“Discharged and all.” He fidgeted irritably. “I’ll have to have some surgery later, but they want some of the wounds to heal first.”
“Not everyone can say they have a limp because of a bear trap.”
“Making jokes already? I’m impressed, darling.” He kissed her again, and his grip on her never loosened.
“I don’t want to think about horrible things, or be angry or sad or scared for at least a month.”
“Let’s shoot for a year.”
“Maybe two.”
He laughed, but then he just held her, so she held him back. “It really is okay,” she whispered. “And there’s a lot of okay left to get.”
“I know. It’s going to take me a little while to... Hell, I thought you were dead, Jen.”
She pressed her forehead into his neck. “But I’m not. Which means we have a lot of plans to make. So, you think on that.”
The door opened again, and her whole family poured in. A nurse started mounting objections, but Grady easily sweet-talked her out of the room.
Hilly rushed over and gave her a hug, while Dylan insisted Vanessa take a seat. Zach hovered in the background, but Jen motioned him over.
“Glad you’re okay, Jen,” he offered.
She gently touched the bandage on his temple. “Thank you for everything.”
He shrugged, clearly uncomfortable, and then he quickly moved away as her father came over and gave her a hug. Laurel perched herself on the little sliver of bed at the end.
“Well, here we are again,” Jen said, opting for cheerful. “But you know, it’s over now. We all got shot, and we’ll all get our happily-ever-afters.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Laurel muttered. “There’s no curse.”
“Not anymore,” Jen agreed, grinning when Laurel rolled her eyes.
“What about Zach?” Hilly asked. “He’s a Carson.”
“I’m a Simmons,” Zach replied firmly
.
“No, Hilly’s right. Zach’s one of us,” Grady replied. “But we’re out of Delaneys for him to pair up with.”
“Eh, you never know when one will pop out of the woodwork,” Vanessa returned with a grin. “Watch your back, Zach.”
He scoffed, but Jen rather liked the idea. And she liked having everyone around, talking as if things were normal. As if she wasn’t hooked up to a hospital bed, as if nothing had terrorized any of them over the course of the past year.
It was nice. It was...perfect really. A cleansing moment to put everything about yesterday behind her.
She tried to hide the yawns, the exhaustion, but pretty soon Laurel was shooing everyone out, assuring Jen they’d all be back tomorrow.
Ty didn’t budge.
When her family was gone, she snuggled into him, ready for a nice long sleep.
“They’ll make you leave,” she murmured into his chest.
Ty only held on tighter. “Like hell, darling.”
Epilogue
Ty cursed the crutch that had been a part of his life for too many months now. The surgery had been successful, but healing was annoying.
“You’re pushing yourself too hard,” Jen insisted as they walked across a stretch of rocky land at the edge of Carson property.
They’d been staying out at the Carson Ranch, where there weren’t as many stairs to navigate as there were at his apartment above Rightful Claim and hers above the store.
Still, he was antsy to have a space of his own, to be done with healing and get on with living.
So, they’d start living. “What do you think?” he asked, waving a hand to encompass the stretch of field in front of them, the mountains sparkling in the blue-sky distance.
She smiled up at him, confusion written in her expression. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever known, and she was all his. His faults and errors were no longer the black marks that held down his soul. Because in Jen he always had a place to find his salvation, and love.
“It’s a pretty view,” she offered.
“How’d you like a kitchen window looking out over that view?”
The confusion left her features, and something else he couldn’t quite name replaced it. A certainty—the sure sign of a Jen Delaney plan in the works.
He found he quite liked going along with Jen Delaney’s plans.
“I don’t think I’d like it, I think I’d love it. But before you go getting ideas, there’s one thing you’re going to have to do first.”
He dug around in his pocket, pulled out the velvet box and popped it open. Pleased that he’d managed to surprise her, he pulled the ring out and held it in the light so it sparkled. “This what you had in mind?”
She nodded wordlessly, tears already falling over her cheeks. He wiped one away, then took her hand.
“So, what do you say, Jen Delaney. Ready to promise your life to a Carson?”
“I always have been,” she whispered, grinning at him, urging him to put the ring on her finger.
He slid it on easily, but kept her hand in his. “Anything else before we break ground?”
She took a deep, shaky breath. “I want lots of babies,” she said, and though her voice wavered, her smile didn’t. “Babies and forever. That should do it.”
“We can start working on the babies thing right now if you’re up to it.”
She laughed, the sound carrying on the wind as it filled up his soul, because that was what his second chance with Jen had done—filled the empty places inside him, washed away the guilt he’d carried for so long.
Love and trust were that powerful, and he’d never let himself forget it.
He kissed her hands, looked into her eyes, and gave her the one thing he knew she’d never expect. The words. “I love you. I can’t remember a time I didn’t. I don’t want to ever remember a time I didn’t.”
More tears spilled over, and she lightly wrapped her arms around his neck, careful not to move him so he had to put undue pressure on his foot. “I love you with everything I am,” she whispered. “I always will. We can survive anything, so we will.”
“Yeah, we will.”
Always.
* * *
Don’t miss the next book in Nicole Helm’s
Carsons & Delaneys: Battle Tested miniseries,
available July 2019
wherever Harlequin Intrigue books
and ebooks are sold.
Keep reading for an excerpt from Within Range by Janice Kay Johnson.
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Within Range
by Janice Kay Johnson
Chapter One
“Birdie!”
Helen Boyd glanced in the rearview mirror first to her two-year-old son, then out the side window to the row of crows sitting on the electrical wire.
“Lots of birds,” she agreed. “Those are crows. Crows are always black.” Helen had the passing thought that in some cultures, they were considered bad luck. Or was that ravens?
Jacob tried to shape the word, which came out sounding more like “cow.”
“Crow,” she repeated. “Like ‘row, row, row your boat,’ only it’s c-row.”
He giggled. “K-k-krow.”
“Yes.” She laughed. “And we’re home!” Thank heavens; her feet were killing her, and she was starved. The day had been so busy, she’d never had a chance to stop for lunch. And, ugh, this was only Tuesday.
Home was a small rental house with an even smaller detached garage that held the lawn mower, a rolling tool chest belonging to the landlord, and some boxes and furniture that might have been left by previous tenants. There was no room for a car, so she parked in the driveway.
Helen climbed out stiffly, her attention caught for a brief moment by bright sails on the Columbia River. Her view was barely a sliver, but that was better than nothing. This was June, but the day seemed way too chilly for anyone to want to go windsailing. Whoever was out there was sure dedicated to the sport, she’d learned. The winds channeled through the Columbia Gorge were one of the biggest draws of the small towns strung along the banks of the river east of Portland.
She circled around to release Jacob from his car seat and swing him up in her arms, using her hip to bump the door closed. “Hamburgers for dinner tonight,” she told him.
“Hot dogs!” he shouted.
She planted a big kiss on top of his head. “Hamburgers.”
He loved to arg
ue. “Hot dogs.”
“Hamburgers.” After letting them in the front door, she set him down, staying crouched beside him for a minute. “Do you have to go potty?” He still wore a diaper at night but was doing pretty well using the toilet during the day.
“Uh-uh,” he declared.
“Hmm.” Tempted to kick off her heels right now, Helen decided to make it to the bedroom first. Set a good example. Or maybe she should dump them straight in the trash. There was a good reason they’d been on clearance. Knowing Jacob would follow her, she started for the hall—and came to an abrupt stop, staring into the kitchen.
What on earth was that?
Her heart thudded hard. Jacob, fortunately, was clambering up onto the sofa. She took a tentative step, then another, disbelief and fear clawing inside her chest.
It was a high-heeled shoe sitting all by itself that had first puzzled her. She had on the only pair of black pumps she owned. But then...then she saw the woman who lay sprawled on the kitchen floor.
Fingers pressed to her mouth, Helen tiptoed closer. Dark hair fanned over the lifeless face, but Helen could see enough...including the hideous dent in the woman’s head.
“Oh, no, oh, no.” Helen backed away.
From just behind her, Jacob said, “Mommy?”
Whirling, Helen snatched him up and pressed his face to her shoulder. Then she ran for the front door, pausing only to grab her purse on the way.
* * *
“THAT THE HOMEOWNER?” Detective Seth Renner glanced toward the car parked somewhat crookedly at the curb in front of the house.
The uniformed officer followed his gaze. “Don’t know if she owns it or rents, but that’s her. Name’s Helen Boyd. She’s got a two-year-old in the car.”
Easy to imagine how quickly she’d fled the house when she discovered a dead woman on her kitchen floor. Unless, of course, she’d had something to do with the death, but he wasn’t ready to speculate yet.