by Joanna Wayne
“Oh, and when did you turn over this new leaf?”
“When you became the patient, of course.”
He swallowed the pill, following the foul taste with a tall glass of water. One of many he’d downed tonight.
Darlene sat down on the coach next to him. “Is the pain bad?”
“I’ve had worse. Maybe.”
“I’m just thankful the damage was no more serious than it was.” She eyed the bandage that wrapped around his leg just below the knee. “Not that tearing apart flesh and muscle isn’t bad. But Dr. Bennigan thinks you’ll be back at work in a few weeks.”
“I’ll be back at work tomorrow, taking care of the mounds of paperwork that go with winding up a case.” He draped an arm around her shoulders. “But I won’t be complaining about it I’m just glad I’m alive to work.”
He cupped her chin in his hand, and tilted her face toward him. “I wouldn’t have given McCord and me the chance I’d give a calf in the slaughterhouse, until you drove that truck through the wall.” He kissed her lips, and marveled at the thrill that danced through him in spite of his weakened condition. “Guess I’ll have to up my opinion of the FBI.”
“I’ll take that compliment, cowboy.” She snuggled against his chest. “But it was you who gave me the chance. I still don’t understand how you managed to get loose from that rope—but I’m grateful.”
“I didn’t do it with any time to spare.”
“And I’m still not quite sure how McCord ended up walking in on us in the barn,” Darlene added, confusion twisting her cute little mouth into a frown.
“Apparently, he’d talked to Caulder tonight and found out that we’d been at the Altamira going through McCord’s old war paraphernalia. He was afraid we were getting too close to the truth.”
“And he decided to come clean, at least to you.”
“He thought it might make me heed his warning about not getting involved.”
“Because he thought the investigation might get you killed.” Darlene ran her fingers over his hands. “And it almost did.”
“Almost got both of us killed.” He took her hand in his, gingerly rubbing his fingers along the bruises and cuts from the rope that had bound her to the post. “I went through hell and back more than once in that barn, knowing what I had led you into.”
“You didn’t lead me into anything. We were in it together.” She squeezed his hand and looked up at him, her eyes misty and soft. “It was a big night for you. Not only fighting the fire, but letting go of your secret about your parentage. To me and to McCord.”
He swallowed hard and shifted uneasily. He’d spent the last six years resenting McCord for perceived shuns and worse. He’d been convinced McCord had come home from the war a hero, powerful and assured, the way he’d been for as far back as Clint could remember.
He’d imagined that McCord had taken advantage of his mother, charmed her right into his bed while her own husband had been imprisoned in a war camp. Consciously, he’d directed all his anger toward McCord because he had never been able to lay blame on his mom. But on another level, one that cut more deeply into his heart, he’d felt disillusioned by his mother’s unfaithfulness to the only father he’d ever known. He’d felt she’d betrayed the both of them.
The story McCord had told him at the hospital tonight had been far different. It had been of two lonely, frightened young people. He’d come home minus one leg and tormented by the fact that he’d been forced to shoot his own officer. She was lonely, believing that her husband had died as reported instead of being taken prisoner.
McCord and his mother had begun as friends and had fallen in love. But in the end, they’d made decisions based on other people’s needs, Clint’s included.
“I guess I did a lot of growing up tonight,” Clint said. “That’s not so easy for me to admit.”
Darlene fit her body more securely into the cradle of his arm. “Admitting you’re wrong is never easy. Will you be able to build a relationship with McCord?”
“I don’t know, but at least I understand better what it was like for him and my mother. And I know that what I perceived as put-downs were his way of keeping the vow he’d made to a woman he loved very much. I can’t fault him for that.”
“I only wish he’d told me the whole story that night on Glenn Road before we were attacked. If I’d understood his reasons for doing what he did, I would have been able to deal with it. The whole amnesia problem might have been prevented.”
“Still, it was a rough situation, a tough call to make. I wouldn’t have wanted to be in McCord’s shoes. But knowing him, I’m sure he wouldn’t do it any differently if he had to make that same decision again.” Clint rearranged his leg on the pillow, trying to find an angle that hurt less.
Darlene took up the story, as if clarifying it in her own mind. “Hal had already gotten two men killed by his reckless orders. And he was about to shoot the third for not walking into the same trap. McCord stepped in.”
She bit her bottom lip, obviously still perplexed over the events that had led up to tonight. “I still don’t see why Jake had become obsessed with setting the fire and having McCord die in the flames. Hal was already dead when they ignited the encampment. And that was not so much to destroy evidence of his murder as to hide from the enemy the fact that they had been there.”
Clint tangled his fingers in Darlene’s hair, and buried his lips at the nape of her beautiful neck. “I guess we’ll never know why Jake reacted like he did. It’s just sad that he let it eat away at him for thirty years.”
“And he might still have done nothing, if he hadn’t heard that Whitt Emory was looking to hire someone to head up security at the senator’s ranch. With his experience and knowledge, he was a shoo-in for the job. All he had to do was create a fake identity.”
“I’m sure Whitt will look a lot harder at the next man he hires,” Clint said. “Though I’m sure Jake covered all the bases. He was a smart man. Too bad that intelligence couldn’t have been used for good.”
“I know. He claimed he only wanted justice. And then he died in the same way he meant for us to. A crueler punishment than the courts would ever have meted out for him.”
Clint buried his mouth in the silky strands of Darlene’s hair. The pill was taking effect, making his eyelids heavy, his thinking processes slow. He didn’t want to talk of Jake or even McCord any more tonight. He only wanted to hold Darlene close. For as long as he could.
“It’s nice to have my memories back,” she whispered.
“Do you remember everything?” He had no idea why he’d asked that question. If the answer was going to lead to her saying she was leaving to go back to D.C., he didn’t want to hear it.
“I don’t quite remember everything, but you could help me with that.”
“What can’t you remember?”
“I know you proposed to me six years ago, but I’m not sure exactly how you did it. Could you show me?”
Her voice had grown velvety smooth, teasing, yet seductive. And he was not processing fast enough to know where she was going with this. He’d just have to hang on as best he could.
“I don’t think I can handle the down-on-the-knee thing.”
“You didn’t even manage that the first time, and you had a perfectly good knee.”
“I thought you didn’t remember.”
“It’s coming back. Slowly. Show me what you did, tell me what you said.”
“I asked you to go for a ride with me.” He warmed inside, remembering the morning and the nervous anticipation that had left him as awkward as a teenager. “We rode to the top of the same hill where we had breakfast the other morning.”
“And you brought a bottle of chilled white wine and real crystal glasses.” She crawled up on her knees and feathered his mouth with kisses.
“Hey, wait a minute. I thought this was my memory.”
“I was only helping.”
He kissed her hard and quick. “Okay, jump in with the kis
ses any time.”
“Tell me what you said, Clint. I want to hear it again. If you remember.”
“I remember.” Desire awakened inside him, though he had no idea where his body found the energy. Except that Darlene was curled up beside him, her face scrubbed clean, the silky tresses of her hair falling free.
He twisted, ignoring the pain it sent scurrying up his leg, so that he could look into her eyes. The feelings he felt were reflected in their depths. The love he saw there was unmistakable. It took his breath away.
“Say the words, all of them.” She touched her fingers to his lips. “I need to hear them tonight.”
“I love you, Darlene. I can’t promise skies that are always blue, and I can’t lay the world at your. feet.” He was amazed that the speech he’d practiced so long ago was still so fresh in his mind, and at how rapidly his heart was beating as he repeated it now. He swallowed the catch in his voice and went on. “But I promise that I will never stop loving you.” He touched his lips to hers, and the kiss rocked his very soul.
He pulled away. The speech was over, but he owed her more. “I made mistakes, Darlene. I pushed you away just like you said, when I couldn’t face my own demons. But I kept my promise. I never stopped loving you for a second—not in all the long, lonely six years.”
He kissed her then, the sweetness of her mingling with his breath, the sheer joy of holding her singing in his veins. He didn’t pull away until she pushed against his chest with her hands.
“I made a few mistakes myself. I was young and impetuous. When you shut me out, I was sure it was commitment you were afraid of, especially with a woman who was just beginning to discover who she was, a woman who wanted a career.” She brushed his lips with hers. “But I’m all grown up now, and I’m waiting for the last line of that proposal.”
He hadn’t forgotten. He just hadn’t been sure she was ready to hear it. But there was no risk for him, no peril in putting his heart on the line. He’d done that the second she’d dropped back into his life. He took both her hands in his and captured her gaze.
“Will you be my wife?”
A tear fell from the corner of her left eye and rolled down her cheek. Clint kissed it away. “You don’t have to answer until you’re ready.”
She pulled her hands from his and locked them around his neck. “I’ve fallen in love with you twice, Clint Richards. The first time, it was a giddy roller-coaster ride that left my heart splintered into a million pieces. This time it’s passion, so rich and warm that it sears clear to my soul. Both times it was breathtaking and beautiful and touched with magic.”
Tears were streaming down her face now. She wiped them away with the back of her hand. “Yes, I’ll marry you. And this time there’s no getting rid of me.”
He gathered her in his arms, and held her close, his heart filled to overflowing. She caught his lips in a kiss of promise, and six years of heartbreak melted away.
Darlene was home to stay.
Epilogue
“Another call for you, Senator McCord.” Mary draped her hand over the receiver so the caller wouldn’t hear her complaining. “I don’t think those reporters are ever going to let you sit down to Christmas dinner. The turkey’s going to be dry as jerky if we don’t get to it soon.”
“Take a message and then put the answering machine back on. I want to talk to Clint and Darlene a minute, and then I promise we’ll devour every wonderful dish in sight. Without one interruption from the telephone.”
Mary followed her boss’s instructions, and hurried back to the kitchen, mumbling just loud enough that they could all hear. “People too busy to eat Christmas dinner are just too busy.”
“It looks like the people of America have had their say,” Clint said, walking to the hearth to stand next to McCord. “They’re yelling for an American hero to lead them into the new millennium. They want you, a man who can do what has to be done.”
“No one’s more surprised than I. I thought when that story broke, they’d want me tarred and feathered.”
“Apparently, the citizens of the country are smarter than we give them credit for,” Darlene added.
“Or at least more forgiving.” McCord propped a booted foot on the hearth. “Now we have one more hurdle to clear.”
Clint buried his hands in his back pockets. “Another secret?”
“It has been.” McCord dropped his gaze to stare at the bricks in the hearth. “I don’t know how you feel about this, Clint, but if I run for president, I want my life to be an open book. No secrets. No scandals to leak and hurt the country.”
“No illegitimate sons to come out of the woodwork.” Bitterness tinged Clint’s tone. “You don’t have to worry, Senator. Your secret is safe with me.”
“No. If I run, I want to tell the whole truth. So, this is your call—son.”
His voice broke on the word son, and Darlene could almost feel the emotion that surged through him. She also knew that Clint had not fully resigned himself to all that the word implied. She stepped between them and linked her fingers with Clint’s.
McCord twisted his toe against a brick as if he were smashing an insect. “If you don’t want anyone to know I’m your biological father, to know the circumstances of your conception, I’ll pull my name from the list of contenders. My first consideration has always been for my family.” He finally looked up and made eye contact with Clint. “And you’re part of the family now. Actually, you’ve always been. My will has always stated that when I die, half of the ranch and everything else I own goes to you. The other half goes to Levi.”
Clint shifted, turning to look out the window and across a pasture dotted with cattle. “I had a father.”
“I know you did.” McCord put his hand on Clint’s shoulder. Clint stiffened, but didn’t pull away. “He was a good man. He was my friend.”
“I can’t change the past. If you want to admit that I’m your illegitimate son and take your chances with the public’s accepting that, I won’t stand in the way.”
Darlene knew what that concession cost Clint, but she also knew that his love for McCord ran deep. That was why the breach that had developed between them had tortured him so. It would take him time, but he would come around.
“One other thing, Clint. I don’t expect an answer tonight, but I’d like for you to consider running my ranch along with yours. There’s plenty of room here in the big house for you and Darlene, what with Levi moving to Montana and me in D.C. half the time. Or we can build another house, as big as Darlene wants it. Spread out enough to raise a whole passel of kids. It’s up to you, of course. I just thought you should know I’d like to have you here with me. With the family.”
Clint slipped an arm around Darlene’s shoulder. “I’ll think about it.” He put out his hand to shake on it, but McCord clapped him on the back.
“That’s all I ask. I know you’ll do what’s right.”
“Thanks...Dad.”
Darlene blinked back a tear. She hoped she had a lot of sons. Daughters too. They would be born into a wonderful heritage.
“Merry Christmas,” Clint whispered, taking her hand as they walked into the dining room to share the McCord Christmas dinner.
“And a happy new century,” she whispered back.
It would be, she knew. She’d share it with the man she loved.
ISBN : 978-1-4592-5145-8
MEMORIES AT MIDNIGHT
Copyright © 1999 by Jo Ann Vest.
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