Whistlin' Dixie (Tempered Steel Book 1)

by Adams, Maggie

  “Jason, listen to me. Please lower the gun and sit it gently on the floor.” Dixie was trying desperately not to look down the barrel of the gun pointed at her chest. “Children, stop screaming please. You’re frightening him.”

  Dixie couldn’t keep the fear out of her voice, and the children’s frantic cries increased. Jason was responding to the pandemonium around him. He was crying in earnest and flinging the gun back and forth, back and forth, trying to dislodge it from his hand, but his finger was curved around the trigger.

  Dixie continued to try and calm the children even as the gun barrel wavered at various points on her body. The children began running for the door and spilling onto the hall. She was terrified one of them would run into Jason’s line of fire. A part of her wanted to help Jason, to remove the gun from his grasp, but she couldn’t move. Her legs refused to obey. She just continued to talk to the frightened boy.

  Suddenly, the principal arrived in the doorway, having heard the commotion down the hall. Taking in the situation at a glance, he flung himself at the frightened boy. “Jason, stop!”

  The child jumped at his words and the gun discharged.

  Everything happened in slow motion for her, a horrifying moment she knew she would remember forever. Dixie heard the report of the gun as an invisible hand slammed into her shoulder, knocking her to the floor. A terrible burning ran down her arm and she saw blood spurting everywhere. She turned her head to locate the cause of the blood flow, realizing with dread that someone had been shot.

  “Dixie!” She heard the principal scream her name.

  Her whole body was trembling as she tried to answer. She moved and a wave of dizziness caught her unaware. She closed her eyes and attempted to refocus. When she opened them again, she noticed Jason weeping next to her. She was on the floor. The children who remained in the room were sobbing as they stared at her, but their voices were fuzzy and distorted. She again tried to comfort them with words, but her mouth wouldn’t work properly. As one child pointed to her, she glanced down, terrifyingly aware that now the blood had come from her.

  “Think God it wasn’t one of the children,” she murmured as the world began to spin uncontrollably, sending her careening into a black void.

  *****

  Mac and Jamie were still in discussion about the best way to manage Dixie, when the door burst open and Dottie, Chance, and Brandon raced in.

  “What is it Dottie?” Mac said as he ran around the desk. He could tell she was horrified. “Have the vandals struck again?”

  “There’s been a shooting at the school,” Dottie whispered as she grabbed Mac’s arm. “Dixie’s been hit. The paramedics are with her now. They want Jamie to meet them at the hospital.”

  Mac’s mind was reeling. Dixie was hurt. She could be dying. No, don’t think like that. “How bad?” he rasped out as he searched frantically for his keys.

  “They won’t give me any other information. Jamie, I’m so sorry.” She began sobbing quietly into her handkerchief.

  Brandon handed Mac his keys. “I’ll take care of everything here. Go!” With a curt nod of thanks, Mac and Jamie raced to the truck and jumped in. They were on their way to the Alton Trauma Center within seconds.

  Neither man said anything as they drove down the highway, each lost in their own torment. Silent tears coursed down Jamie’s face. Mac noticed his grip on the armrest would probably leave dents in the leather, but he didn’t even notice the pain in his fingers.

  Mac clinched the steering will fiercely and pushed the gas pedal to the floor, willing the truck to go faster, faster. Please God, don’t let her die. Not when I’ve realized how much I love her, how much I need her in my life. She makes me whole and keeps me alive.

  The two men arrived at the emergency room in record time, only to be greeted by a nurse with a handful of papers for Jamie to sign. She could tell them nothing about Dixie’s condition except that the doctor would be in shortly to talk to them.

  The doctor arrived a few minutes later. He was a small man with a balding head and large glasses. He walked with a confident stride, and as he drew near, Mac noticed his deep brown eyes. Compassion and intelligence, along with a hefty dose of tiredness, gleamed from their depths. Dixie was in good hands.

  Mac stood up as the doctor approached. He would have to take the interview and provide any information the doctor needed. After one glance at Jamie’s pale countenance, he knew he wasn’t in any condition to offer help or to ask proper questions.

  “Relatives of Dixie Harris?” At Mac’s nod, he continued. “Your wife is stable, Mr. Harris, but she’s lost a lot of blood. The bullet entered into her pectoral muscle in her right shoulder and lodged in her collarbone. It will need to be removed, of course. We’re prepping her now, and as soon as the operation is over, I’ll contact you.” He nodded once then hurried back toward the swinging doors marked no admittance. In his overwhelming concern for Dixie, Mac hadn’t even bothered to correct the doctor’s assumption that he was her husband. So be it. It was just a formality as far as he was concerned.

  Mac was intensely relieved that she was still alive, but the idea of surgery scared him all over again. She had lost a lot of blood. That thought made him ill as he imagined her pain. He glanced at Jamie. His fears were echoed on the young man’s face.

  “What we do now, Mac? I didn’t even know her blood type,” Jamie murmured.

  “Now, we wait,” Mac said softly as he put his arms around the shoulders of the young man he had come to know and like over the past few weeks.

  Together they sat in silence and watched the clock. And prayed.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The next several hours were the worst of Mac’s life. He knew the bullet hadn’t hit any major organs. But it had to be removed. People died in surgery. Oh dear God, please don’t let her die.

  By the time he had finished with the doctor, Mac’s family drifted into the hospital. They came for news or to offer comfort. Mac realized that everyone knew how much Dixie meant to him. Everyone knew they were meant to be together. He had just been too stubborn to admit it. He prayed he wasn’t too late now.

  He scanned the room yet again, silently thanking God for blessing him was such a wonderful family. Brandon and Chance were sitting in the corner watching a talk show. Nick and Lucky, as everyone called his brother Lawrence, were headed for the snack shop to get everyone coffee. Lucky received his nickname after coming face-to-face with one of the deadly copperhead snakes that populated the bluffs near their home and living to tell about it. The only family members missing were his youngest brother Tanner, who was away at college, and his other brother, Sam, who was in the Navy.

  Mac remembered the last time the family had been faced with such a personal crisis. Sam had been accused of drug possession. The accusation had been false, trumped up by the father of the girl Sam had been interested in back then. As the richest man in the county, he had made it clear that Sam wasn’t good enough for his daughter. Only after the daughter agreed not to see Sam anymore had that “evidence” mysteriously disappeared and all charges dropped. Unfortunately, the gossip surrounding the arrest had developed into a full-blown scandal, and the stigma of a drug pusher had stuck with Sam. He had left town to continue his career in the Navy and to forget the girl who he felt had betrayed him.

  Mac glanced over at his parents. They sat on either side of Jamie, offering him words of comfort, holding his hand and just being there for him. They had been together for over forty years. They not only loved each other, they truly liked each other, too. He thought about what he wanted in a relationship. The woman he married would have to understand about the demands of his job, help him when times were rough, and make him feel alive every minute of the day. Dixie did that for him. She made him complete. He no longer simply existed. He felt alive.

  He’d thought his life was full until she came into it, throwing his entire world off balance. She made him yearn for her company and her love. A smile from her could make his day. H
e wanted to wake up with her beside him and tell her everything at the end of the day. He wanted to tease her and love her and watch her grow big with his children. He made a vow to never take for granted their time together. Time was too precious to waste.

  The door to the operating room swung open and the doctor emerged. Mac searched his features trying to discern the outcome of the operation, but he could tell nothing from his expression. He steeled himself and stood up as the doctor approached. “Mr. Harris, your wife is doing fine. The surgery to remove the bullet went well. I’m confident she will make a full recovery.”

  All eyes turned to Mac. He flushed a bit then stammered, “She’s not my wife. I’m Mac Coalson. That’s Jamie Harris, her brother.” He pointed a finger in the younger man’s direction.

  The doctor looked disconcerted for a minute, then issued an apology. “I’m sorry. Ms. Harris said something to me before she went under anesthetic which led me to believe…,” He shook his head and continued. “Anyway, she came through surgery and is down in recovery with just a small scar to remind her of her ordeal. You can see her in a few hours. Until then, I suggest you get something to eat and relax.”

  He accepted Mac’s thanks, then turned to go but Mac stopped him. “Excuse me, doctor, but what exactly did Dixie say to you?”

  The doctor laughed. “She said to tell Mac I love him and to take care of Jamie.” The doctor slapped Mac on the back. “Don’t look so stunned, son. She loves you.” He pushed through the operating doors.

  Mac was still reeling from the bombshell the doctor had dropped on them when his family converged on him en masse, offering hugs and kisses of joy at Dixie’s recovery. Mac disengaged himself, engulfed Jamie in a great bear hug as their tears of relief mingled together. “She’s going to be okay. She’s going to be okay.” He kept repeating that phrase over and over again.

  Ginny smiled through her tears. Mac reached for his mother. “She’s gonna pull through it,” he murmured into her hair.

  She held her hands on either side of his face. “Yes, and she loves you.” Ginny’s eyes brimmed with tears of happiness.

  Mac pulled back. “Mom, she thought she was going to die. People say strange things at times like that.”

  “People who think they’re dying say honest things, Mac. They feel they have nothing left to lose,” she tried to convince her stubborn son.

  “Perhaps,” he murmured then released her to shake Brandon’s hand.

  Ginny wiped her tears with an impatient hand. “Stubborn boy. Why won’t you believe?”

  Hank answered before Mac could. “He wants it to be true so badly, he’s afraid to hope for fear that he’s wrong.”

  “That’s foolish” Ginny grumbled.

  “That’s love,” her husband corrected her.

  Mac just nodded in agreement. Love.

  *****

  Twenty-four hours later, Dixie was ready to explode. If one more person came in to poke, prod, stick, or adjust her, she was going to scream. What idiot thought you could rest in a hospital? Certainly not in this one. She’d been rudely awakened from a beautiful dream about Mac by a large woman with bad breath, wanting to take blood. Again. After being stuck three times in the past six hours, Dixie had resigned herself to becoming a pin cushion.

  Since this morning, one person after another had come through her door, except the one she wanted to see the most. Where in the world is he? Doesn’t he care that I was injured, could have been killed? What kind of a jerk are you anyway, Mac Coalson, to leave the woman who loves you to rot away on a lumpy excuse for a hospital bed? Sniffling and whimpering, she wallowed in self-pity and just a little bit of pain, alternating between cursing the man she loved and praying he would show up soon.

  She vaguely remembered telling the doctor of her love for Mac, but apparently, he hadn’t passed on the message. Maybe Mac wasn’t interested anymore. Maybe he was running.

  Now there’s a depressing thought. Perhaps he’s just too busy with the other woman. Maybe he doesn’t care. Maybe when I’m feeling well enough I’m gonna hunt him down like a dog and give him a piece of my mind.

  She remembered that was how they had met in the first place and started crying all over again.

  After another few minutes of whining, complete with a bout of good old-fashioned crying, Dixie decided to be good and mad at him. He was a jerk, a no-good, two-timing jerk. He couldn’t even be bothered to visit her while she lay at death’s door. He didn’t deserve someone as great as her.

  It didn’t matter. She loved him anyway.

  But that didn’t mean she couldn’t get well and truly ticked at his callous attitude.

  By the time Mac arrived later that day, Dixie had worked herself up to quite a state of rage. When he walked in the door, whistling off key, she used her one good arm and threw her bedpan at him. He raised an elegant eyebrow at her display of temper and bent to retrieve it, sitting a vase filled with spring flowers on the counter. “I suppose I should be grateful it was empty,” he drawled.

  Dixie took a good long look at him. She was so relieved to see him. He was standing there in a crisp white shirt and faded jeans, with cowboy boots completing the outfit. He looked clean and healthy and incredibly sexy.

  Next to him, she felt dirty and horrible and ugly with scars.

  Where had he been? Did he have to look so happy to see her in a hospital? She began to fume again.

  Mac stared at the nondescript blue gown on her slight frame, wondering if it was the kind that opened in the back. God how he loved this woman!

  Even when she was throwing bedpans at him.

  No one but Dixie could make him think about making love to her dressed in a horrible hospital gown. He had stayed with her since she had been brought up from recovery late last night. When the nurses had finally shooed him out of the room this morning, he had gone straight home to freshen up and catch a small nap. He wanted to be prepared for what he was going to say to her.

  “I brought you some flowers.” He smiled at her.

  Dixie frowned. “Get out. Take your damn flowers and your whistling and just go.” She pointed to the door.

  Apparently, the gunshot wound hadn’t sweetened her temper. Mac wanted to laugh at the look on her face. He figured she didn’t know or couldn’t remember what she’d told the doctor. “Uh, uh, uh, little girl. I can see you’re feeling better, so now’s a good time to talk. You got nowhere else to go.” He rearranged her legs and sat down next to her on the narrow bed.

  “Have you gone deaf? I don’t want to see you.” Looking gorgeous and wonderful. It hurts.

  “Liar.”

  She gasped in outrage. “I said I want you to leave.”

  Mac chuckled. He was so glad she was going to be fine, and so in love with her that he just wanted to grab her and run and never ever let go.

  But first things first.

  He had to know if what she had told the doctor was the truth. “Your brother suggested I tie you up and stuff a rag in your mouth to get you to listen to me, but since you’re not going anywhere but here, this will do just fine.” He patted the blankets near her hand.

  “If you don’t leave this instant, I’m going to scream.” She nodded to him to show she meant business.

  He laughed.

  Dixie was furious. She was practically an invalid and he was teasing her mercilessly. She wanted to throttle him. She wanted him to hold her. She was definitely going crazy. Either that, or the drugs were making her delirious. She couldn’t make up her mind about anything.

  “Thanks for the warning, darlin’. I guess I’ll take your brother’s advice after all.” He reached into his back pocket for a handkerchief.

  “You wouldn’t dare,” she growled.

  Suddenly Mac leaned closer, putting his arms on either side of her head as he pinned her with his gaze. “I’ll dare anything to clear up this mess and have you back in my arms where you belong.”

  Dixie searched his face in shock, noticing for the first time th
e dark circles under his eyes and the love radiating from within their depths. He meant it! She burst into tears.

  Mac gathered her in his arms, and let her cry. She needed an outlet for what she had been through.

  Dixie continued to cry, wetting his shirt from. When her weeping had subsided down to a few sniffles, she blew her nose. She snuggled closer to Mac’s warmth and settled her cheek against his chest. The comforting rhythm of his heartbeat did more to ease her pain than all the drugs in the world. Her heart soared. Mac wanted her. She had seen it is eyes.

  “Are you ready to listen?” Mac asked softly. At her nod, he told her about his drunken client and the compromising position Dixie had found them in. When he had finished, she felt foolish and told him so.

  “Probably about as foolish as I felt when Hawkins grabbed your hand and I fired him for it,” he said softly. “We’ve both been jumping to conclusions, honey, and that has to stop if we‘re going to have any sort of relationship.”

  Dixie felt a sudden chill. She didn’t want just any sort of relationship, she wanted love. She wanted Mac forever. Had she again jumped to the conclusion that Mac loved her for what she had seen in his eyes?

  “Hey, you still with me?” Mac waved his hand in front of her face.

  “What… What? Oh, I’m sorry. What were you saying?” Dixie forced the words past the lump in her throat.

  Mac looked at her in concern. “Maybe we should continue this conversation tomorrow. You look pretty pale. I wore you out.” He kissed her cheek and got up to leave.

  “How dare you!” Dixie roared. “First you tease me, then you tell me I belong in your arms, next you’re talking about a general relationship, like, like,” she stammered in fury, “like a friendship or something, and now I’m just pale and you kiss my cheek.”