by Diana Palmer
“Yes. Yes.” She was sobbing. “He has to live. He must live!”
“The doctors are doing everything they can. It’s just...”
“What?”
“Contact the limo company. Then call me back. I’ll tell you everything.”
She phoned the service, begged for a car for an emergency and got one on the way. She called Eb back while she directed Grayson to start packing for her.
“I’ll explain in a minute,” she told the other woman.
“Scott,” came the reply when she’d punched in the number.
“It’s me. Tell me!”
“He knows you went to the clinic,” he said heavily. “He went crazy. You see, he didn’t dare talk to you that night. Ysera had a man in the theater. Wolf was scared to death that if she knew he had any feelings for you at all, she’d have you killed. She had the money and the means, and people in place to do it. He took out a lot of women for a few weeks to throw her off the track.”
“Dear God.” She shivered. Tears ran down her cheeks.
“So he didn’t care what happened after that,” he said, hating to tell her. “He went after Ysera himself.”
“Oh, no,” she groaned. She clenched her teeth. “She shot him!”
“No. She called in one of her hired guns to do it. But she made a fatal error. Wolf had a .45 aimed at her. When the henchman fired, so did he. I’m not sure he meant to. He really wanted her in custody to stand trial. It was reflex, when the bullet hit him.”
She was sobbing now. “He must live,” she whispered. “Or I can’t. I can’t. I won’t! I won’t live without him!”
“Sara,” he said urgently, “Sara, he’s still alive. You have to come up here. Tell him. It might be enough...”
She heard a car drive up. She looked out the window through tears. “The limo’s here.”
“The plane’s landing at the airport now. It’s a big DC-3. Ex-military, and no creature comforts, but you’ll get here safely. Okay?”
“Okay. Eb...thank you!”
“Thank you. He’s my friend, too.”
“Have you spoken to Gabriel?”
“I can’t,” he said miserably. “There are things going on, classified things. I can’t contact him and neither can you. I’m sorry. He’d come, if he knew. Wolf is his best friend.”
“I’m on my way.”
“I’ll see you in Houston.”
She hung up. Grayson had everything packed for a couple of nights. Sara kissed her cheek. “Thanks. I’m sorry. I must go.” Her eyes were red. “He may die,” she said with trembling lips.
“He’ll be all right,” Grayson said gently. “He will. You believe me. A man that tough isn’t going to go down without a fight.”
Sara didn’t question the strange remark. She was too upset. She just smiled and ran out to the car, Grayson two steps behind with two rolling suitcases.
“I only need one,” Sara said, looking at them.
“I’ve locked up and phoned Marsden to look after everything in the house. I’m going with you,” she said firmly. “No way am I letting you go alone.”
Sara started crying again.
“Come on,” Grayson said gently. “Get inside. We need to leave.”
Sara nodded through her tears and climbed into the backseat.
* * *
THE HOSPITAL WAS new and modern. It had long, wide corridors and modern lighting, with green plants everywhere. Sara would have been impressed if she hadn’t been so frightened. Eb Scott was waiting for her. She ran into his arms and let him comfort her while she sobbed.
“He’s holding his own,” Eb said. “The hospital chaplain service has been of great help.”
She drew back, dabbing at tears with an embroidered lace handkerchief. “Does he have any family left?” she asked. “I know he was a foster child, but maybe cousins?”
He shook his head and smiled. “Just you and me. Figuratively speaking.”
Sara put her hand on her belly and drew in a shaky breath.
Eb’s face was a study in delighted shock as he met her eyes.
She flushed. “You can’t know,” she faltered.
“I have two of my own,” he said with laughing green eyes. “I remember the symptoms very well indeed.” He pursed his lips. “So, you walked in the front door and out the back door of the clinic without stopping?”
She laughed self-consciously. “Something like that.”
“When he’s better,” he told her, “he’s going to take that out of my poor associate’s hide, that he didn’t record the length of time you were actually in the clinic.”
“He wasn’t supposed to know,” she said sadly. “I was trying to protect him.”
“And he was trying to protect you.”
She nodded. Tears stung her eyes, hot and salty. “When?”
“When will we know? Soon, I hope,” he said.
They sat down in the waiting area. There was a family nearby. An older woman was crying. Beside her, a somber teenage boy was trying not to. She looked at them and managed a watery smile. They gave her one back. Then they all waited.
Minutes passed. A doctor came out and spoke to the family nearby. The woman burst out with an expression of such joy that Sara felt good for her. She laughed. The teenager beside her grinned from ear to ear. They gave Sara a smile and a look of great sympathy as they followed the doctor down the hall.
“At least someone has good news,” Sara said heavily. “Oh, I wish we did!”
“You didn’t come alone?” Eb asked, concerned.
He was thinking what might happen if Wolf didn’t make it. She knew that, but she didn’t say it out loud. “Grayson came with me. She’s my personal assistant.” She managed a smile. “She wouldn’t let me come alone. She’s lining up hotels and cars.”
“Grayson?” he asked slowly, and there was an odd look in his eyes. “Amelia Grayson?”
She lifted both eyebrows. “You know her?”
He smiled. “Never mind.”
She started to ask what he meant when a man in surgical greens came out a door, pulling his mask down on the way. He approached Eb.
Sara slid her hand into Eb’s, terrified, praying, begging, as the man stopped just in front of them.
“The bullet did some damage,” he told Eb. “Punctured a lung, broke part of a rib, ricocheted and took a chunk out of his liver and nicked an intestine. But I’m a great surgeon,” he said with twinkling eyes. “I excised the damaged tissue, removed the bone splinters, sewed up the intestine and removed the bullet—something I wouldn’t have done if it had meant causing more trauma,” he added. He grimaced. “He’s carrying enough lead as it is.” His dark eyes narrowed. “You people keep my job challenging.”
Sara was almost glowing with relief. Tears rolled down from her tragic black eyes, staining her cheeks as she stood still, listening, hoping.
Eb shrugged. “Think of it as practice. Look how much we give you.”
He chuckled. “If you want to take him home, Micah Steele can take over. He’s probably treated more of these cases than even I have. Not to mention your guy Carson, who’s back in training as a physician in Jacobsville.”
“All true.” Eb shook hands. “Thanks.”
“What are friends for?” He glanced down at Sara. “Are you a friend of my patient?”
“You might say that,” Eb drawled. “She’s carrying his child.”
“She’s...”
All the excitement, all the fear, caught up with her. Sara slid to the floor before either man could catch her.
* * *
SHE CAME TO on a hospital bed. She tried to sit up, but a nurse who obviously had Mafia ties pushed her gently back down and glared at her.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” she said. “I’ve never let a patient get away yet!”
“But he’s out of surgery,” she pleaded. “You have to let me go to him. I have to see him...! You don’t understand. He doesn’t want to live!”
“Yes, he do
es,” the nurse mused with pursed lips. “Eb Scott told him you were here. He’s awake and aware and cursing doctors because he can’t get to you.”
Her face flushed with pleasure. She lay back down. “He knows I’m here?”
“Yes.”
She took deep breaths, joy shining out of eyes that had been tragic with grief and fear until now. “When?”
“When can you see him? As soon as your blood pressure goes down.”
“But I don’t have high blood pressure.”
“You do, my dear,” the nurse said gently. “Your physician in San Antonio prescribed a blood pressure medication. Didn’t you realize that’s what you’ve been taking?”
“She said something about hypertension. I thought she meant I was tense...” Sara flushed. “I used to be intelligent. I think pregnancy makes people susceptible to periods of stupidity,” she added, blushing. “Nobody told him, about the baby...?”
“Not yet. We all think that should be your job,” she added softly.
Sara sighed. “He’ll be angry, that I kept it from him.”
“That man isn’t going to be angry about anything,” the nurse replied. “Except being kept away from you.” She paused. “Listen.”
There was a loud voice, a very loud and deep voice, using words that might get him arrested if he didn’t stop.
“Please?” Sara asked, because she knew the voice.
“Let me get a wheelchair.”
* * *
THEY WHEELED HER into the recovery room. He was awake and demanding access to Sara. When he saw her, his whole face changed.
She got up out of the wheelchair and went to him. He was hooked up to half a dozen machines. A tube was feeding him oxygen. He smelled of antiseptic and blood, and something else that she couldn’t quite identify—gunpowder, perhaps. He had blood everywhere, even on his face.
But he looked beautiful to Sara, who’d been terrified since Eb Scott’s phone call. She went close and brushed back his black hair. She bent with tears in her eyes to kiss his forehead, his nose, his dry mouth.
“Sara,” he choked out.
“It’s all right,” she whispered. “I’m here. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I killed her,” he whispered back. “Didn’t I?”
She looked at Eb Scott, standing nearby. He nodded grimly.
“Yes,” she said. She winced. “I’m so sorry...!”
“I knew from the way she looked that she had something planned, but I was too slow.” His eyes closed. “I had the .45 under the table, because I didn’t trust her. It was cocked, safety off. I was going to arrest her and put her in custody. When the shot came, it was just reflex. The gun went off. I never meant to kill her.”
“The authorities know that,” Eb said, coming closer. “No charges are being filed. Her whole organization is against the ropes. Many arrests were made. Some of them are going to be surprising, because they’re here in the States.” He nodded. “Her influence was international.” His face hardened. “We also have the man who was in the theater, the night you and Sara went to the symphony.”
Wolf’s eyes flashed murder. “Hold on to him. When I can get up again, I’m going to kill him.”
“I had him sent home to Africa, to stand trial,” Eb returned. “You’re not landing yourself in prison, however noble the motive.”
Wolf was still glaring. Sara went close, and the ferocity went out of him, just like that. His pale eyes searched over her face. “You’ve been crying, honey,” he said softly. “I’m okay. It’s a lot better than it looks.”
“No, it’s not,” she choked out. Her lower lip trembled. “I thought you didn’t want me...”
His big hand drew her wet face to his chest and he shuddered. “You little fool!”
She laid her cheek against him and let go of her tears. She could barely manage to stop, to lift her head. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
His thumb brushed against her lower lip. He looked as anguished as she did. “Eb said you fainted,” he said grimly. “I’m so sorry that you were frightened.”
It was her pregnancy, not fear, that had caused the faint. But she wasn’t going to tell him that, not just yet. She knew he felt something for her. But she didn’t want knowledge of the child to push him into a relationship he didn’t really want. She was going to take her time, see what he really wanted, when he wasn’t traumatized, before she decided whether or not to tell him.
“I just needed to see that you were all right,” she said.
He smiled. “I wasn’t. I am now,” he added, searching her wet eyes. “Don’t cry anymore. It hurts me.”
She dabbed at tears. “Okay.”
His eyes were on the frilly handkerchief, and he smiled. “You never wear lace.”
She shrugged. “My one little vice. Frilly handkerchiefs.”
He chuckled, lay back, winced and closed his eyes. He drew in a long breath. “They drugged me,” he complained. “It wasn’t working, because I was scared to death about you when I knew you passed out.” He opened his eyes. “You’re sure it’s nothing?”
“I’m sure,” she lied convincingly.
“All right. I may sleep, for a bit...” He dropped off, the trauma and the drugs finally catching up with him.
Sara was drained, completely drained, of emotion when she and Eb went out into the hall. Grayson was standing there, waiting.
Eb took Sara to her. “I had them call your physician,” he told her, “just to make sure you had what you needed. The fainting spell worried me.”
“Thanks, Eb,” she said gently. “I’m so tired...”
“Take her to a hotel, Grayson, put her to bed,” Eb said quietly. “She’s been through hell.”
“So has he, I imagine,” Grayson said gently. She smiled at Eb. “Good to see you.”
“Nice to see you, too, Grayson. She’ll be in good hands,” he added, and a silent message passed between the two of them.
“I think I could sleep now.” Sara turned to Eb. “You’re sure he’ll be all right? You’ll call me, if...”
“I’ll call you. I promise.”
“All right.” She followed Grayson down the long corridor.
* * *
SHE SLEPT LIKE a log, for the first time in years. Grayson woke her up, finally, with the news that they were transferring Wolf into a room, out of intensive care, where he’d spent the night. Sara hadn’t known about that, or she’d have been out of her mind.
“Nobody told me,” she muttered.
“Nobody dared,” Grayson replied with a smile. “You’d had enough. But he bounced back so quickly that even his surgeon was surprised. They think he can be transferred in a couple of days, if he’s still improving.”
“I’m going with him,” Sara said. “I’m sorry. You can go back to the ranch in Wyoming and stay there...”
“I’ll manage,” Grayson said shortly. “I’m not leaving you alone.”
Sara bit her lip. “Grayson, you’re the nicest person I know.”
“No. You’re the nicest person I know.” She put a platter of eggs and bacon on the table and retrieved croissants from the basket. She’d had room service deliver food before she woke Sara. “Now eat.”
“Croissants,” Sara said, brightening.
“You mentioned how much you liked them,” came the amused reply. “The restaurant had them on the menu.”
“And strawberry preserves.” She prepared a croissant, creamed her coffee and actually enjoyed breakfast for a change.
* * *
AS SOON AS they ate, they took a cab to the hospital. Sara had phoned Eb, who was waiting for her in the lobby. He smiled.
“He’s not happy. He wants to go home. But I think if he can see you, he’ll shut up for a few minutes anyway, before the nurses shove a washcloth in his mouth and tie him to the bed.”
She laughed. “Is he that bad?”
“Worse, actually.”
He led her
toward a closed door and pushed it open. Wolf was sitting up in bed, a hospital gown barely covering the broad expanse of his chest. He looked up when he saw Sara, and the glower turned into a beaming smile.
“Hello,” he said gently.
“Hello.” She smiled back.
“I have some things to do. I’ll be back,” Eb said discreetly, and went out to join Grayson in the hall.
* * *
“HOW HAS SHE BEEN?” Eb asked the woman, and he wasn’t smiling.
“Bad,” she replied. “I’m watching her like a hawk. I don’t think there’s any danger, but you never know. Ysera had paid someone to do Wolf. I’m not sure about who or where, if you know what I mean.”
He nodded. “We’ll take him to the ranch as soon as he’s mobile, and I’ll send over the best men I have.” He studied her drawn face. “Not him,” he added gently. “He’s in Africa.”
She relaxed. “Okay. Sorry.”
“So am I,” he said.
Her face closed up. “She has high blood pressure,” she said. “The doctor was treating her for it, and she didn’t realize,” she added. “She doesn’t know that it might impact her pregnancy. The obstetrician wasn’t forthcoming, but he sent her to a cardiologist. She won’t make it to the appointment. It’s two days from now.” She laughed softly. “She doesn’t know that I’m aware of her pregnancy. I haven’t let on.”
“Good. I’ll get Micah to refer her to a doctor in Jacobsville. Tell her the cardiologist phoned you, that you gave him your number and told him what was going on. Say he referred you to Micah. Okay?”
“I can do that,” she agreed.
His eyes narrowed. “Still packing that .45?”
“You’d better believe it,” she returned. She pulled back her jacket, just enough to let him see the butt of the pistol resting under her arm. “Nobody’s getting to her, or him, unless they go through me.”
He smiled. “I believe it. You’re good, Grayson. Getting her to hire you without giving yourself away was an act of absolute genius.”
“I had a good teacher,” she replied, and smiled back.
“What did you tell her, so that I can pretend I don’t know anything?”
She gave him the whole spiel about her former employers, the works. She laughed. “She was so sympathetic that I felt like a dog for lying to her.”