Star Witness

by Mallory Kane

“Thanks,” he said. “I need to see Dani.”

  “She’s just fine. If you’re going to be stubborn, I’ll call the head nurse. I think she was a drill sergeant.”

  “Call her.”

  “Harte, you haven’t seen this nurse—at least not that you remember.”

  As if she were summoned by Ethan’s threat, the door to Harte’s room opened and a large, imposing woman in white slacks and an incongruous lavender scrub shirt with pink puppies and kittens on it entered. She had an IV bag in her sizeable hands.

  “Mr. Delancey, you’re awake.” The nurse leveled a glare at Ethan, then the badge pinned to his jacket pocket. “And you are still here.” Stepping around the bed and past Ethan, she replaced the nearly empty IV bag with the new one and adjusted the flow.

  Then she inspected the IV cannula in Harte’s hand, walked around to the other side of the bed and looked at the large bandage that covered from just beneath the collarbone to his upper abdomen. Then she lifted her head and peered through the lower half of her glasses at the LED screen of the heart monitor mounted above the bed.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked, her voice gentler than her physical presence might suggest. “Having any pain?”

  He gave a halfhearted right-shoulder shrug. “I’m okay,” he said.

  She looked up at Ethan. “I’m going to give him a dose of morphine. I’d suggest you go interrogate somebody who’s up and around.” When she glanced back at Harte, he saw a fleeting glint of amusement in her eyes. “My patient here needs to rest.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Ethan said, rolling his eyes in Harte’s direction. “I’ll be back later, kid.” He stood, leaned over and planted a kiss on the top of Harte’s head, sent a quelling look at the nurse when she grinned at his sentimental gesture and left.

  “There you go,” the nurse said as she pressed a button on the IV flow meter of a second bag that was piggybacked into the first. “A nice little boost of morphine.”

  “Not too much,” Harte murmured. He could already feel the drug doing its job.

  “You aren’t getting too much. You’re getting just the right amount. You’d better sleep while you can. Tomorrow morning, your nurse is going to make you get up and walk.”

  “How soon can I get out of here?” he asked.

  “I’ll let you and the doctor talk about that.” She nodded toward the door. “So, I suppose that was your brother? Nice guy. You and he must be close. You look like twins.”

  “He wishes he was as good-looking as me,” Harte muttered, unable to keep his eyes open any longer. He heard the nurse chuckle as she went out of the room.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Dani sat in the courtroom, waiting for the judge and jury to enter. The jury had reported about an hour ago that they had reached a verdict.

  The judge entered and, in doing so, stopped the idle chatter in the courtroom. He stepped up behind the bench and spoke to the prosecution’s attorneys and then to the defense’s, ensuring that they were ready to proceed.

  “Bailiff, you may bring in the jury,” the judge said.

  “Your Honor?” asked Natalie Shallowford, the attorney the D.A. had assigned to take over for Harte. “May I approach?”

  The judge nodded and so she did so, along with Felix Drury, the defense attorney. After a short, quiet conversation, the judge nodded and the two attorneys returned to their seats.

  Dani heard the door to the courtroom open and saw the judge nod to whoever had come in. Most of the observers turned around, then started murmuring.

  The judge pounded his gavel. “Quiet!” he demanded. “Welcome back, Mr. Delancey.”

  Dani’s heart pounded. She half turned, but because she was just behind the prosecution’s table, she couldn’t see at first. Then she heard footsteps and a slight metallic creaking sound.

  Natalie Shallowford opened the gate and a court officer wheeled Harte Delancey, in a wheelchair, through the gate and over to the prosecution’s table.

  Dani looked at him for the first time since he’d been taken away by ambulance almost a week ago. He was pale and drawn, and his eyes had circles under them. His arm was in a dark blue sling. Her heart squeezed with compassion. He’d come very close to dying, she knew. Lucas had told her it had been a long surgery to remove the bullet that had clipped the upper edge of his lung, near his heart.

  Once the bullet was out, Lucas had told her, everything was fine and he would recover quickly. But he didn’t look recovered yet. She wasn’t sure why Lucas had let him come to court. It would be exhausting for him.

  The jury came in and the judge quickly ran through their duties and responsibilities. Then, finally, he asked for the verdict.

  The foreman stood. “As to count one, murder in the first degree, we the jury find the defendant, Ernest W. Yeoman—not guilty.”

  Dani’s heart sank. Not guilty. She’d expected it, but the two words still cut like a knife.

  Ernest Yeoman, standing behind the defense table, pumped a fist in the air. Felix Drury, his powerhouse attorney, laid a subtle hand on his arm. Yeoman straightened as the foreman continued.

  “As to the second count, conspiracy to commit murder—”

  Dani braced herself. Based on the way the trial had gone, she figured aggravated assault was the best they could hope for.

  “We the jury find the defendant, Ernest W. Yeoman...” The foreman paused. “Guilty.”

  The courtroom was suddenly abuzz with whisperings, mumblings and a few shouts, gasps and cheers.

  The judge banged his gavel and the din quieted as the foreman went on to read guilty verdicts for conspiracy to commit aggravated assault on two public officials and conspiracy to kidnap a public official.

  It took Dani a split second to process everything the foreman had said. They’d done it. Yeoman was going to prison. Based on the verdicts, it sounded as though he’d be in prison for a very long time.

  She felt light-headed. Then she realized that quite a bit of the noise in the courtroom was coming from the defendant’s table.

  Yeoman was up in his attorney’s face. “What the hell?” he shouted. “You incompetent son of—”

  The judge pounded his gavel. “Silence!” he snapped. “Silence. Guards!”

  The guards were already on Yeoman. They grabbed him and cuffed him. All the while Yeoman continued to curse Drury.

  Felix Drury, on the other hand, had abandoned his attempt to quiet his client. “Your Honor! Your Honor! May I approach the bench?” he shouted over his client’s curses and the gallery’s whispers and mumblings.

  The judge was ignoring Yeoman. He looked at Drury over his glasses. “No, you may not.” He banged the gavel again and shouted, “This court is adjourned.” He thanked the jurors, then stood and left the courtroom.

  Natalie Shallowford turned to Dani. She smiled and held her arms out.

  Dani came around through the gate and hugged her. “Great job,” she said. “Thank you so much.”

  “Oh, honey, Harte had all the paperwork in order. And your testimony, not only about the night of your grandfather’s death, but your ordeal the night of the storm, cinched it.”

  “Oh,” she said, gripping the bar that divided the courtroom from the visitors’ gallery. She covered her mouth with her hand.

  “Dani, are you okay?”

  She nodded. “I am. For the first time since the night Granddad died, I’m okay.” She blinked away the burning behind her eyelids. “He’s really going to prison.”

  Natalie squeezed her shoulder. “I’m so glad. And don’t forget, the three men who attacked your grandfather are going to prison too, on plea agreements.”

  Dani nodded. “Thank you again, Natalie.”

  Natalie waved a hand, then turned to pick up the piles of papers and cram them into her briefcase.

  Dani turned toward Harte. Her knees felt weak and she had to grasp the back of a chair to steady herself. She hadn’t seen him since the EMTs had put him in the ambulance at Paul Guillame’s house
. She’d been locked up in that damned hotel room while he’d lain in the hospital fighting for his life.

  He looked so awful. Pale and thin and—almost breakable. And it was her fault. He’d protected her and doing so had nearly killed him.

  He smiled the crooked smile that made her heart hurt. Somehow, she managed to walk up to him, even though her knees still felt boneless.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked. “Your surgery was only four days ago.” A movement to Harte’s left caught her eye. It was Lucas, approaching. She turned an accusing gaze on him. “He shouldn’t be here,” she snapped.

  “Yeah? Try telling him that,” Lucas shot back. “I’ll be outside.” He put his hand on Harte’s shoulder. “Try not to undo all the work the surgeon did, okay, kid?”

  Harte gave him a brief nod. “I wanted to be here,” he said. His voice sounded hollow. “So, Natalie did a great job. Congratulations. Yeoman’s going to prison.”

  “She said you did all the work,” she responded.

  He shrugged, then winced. “So you can go home now. No more ‘incarceration.’”

  “Yeah. I’m not even sure I believe Yeoman’s really going to prison yet. It’s a lot to process.” She gestured toward Harte’s arm. “So how—how are you doing?” she asked, working to keep her tone light.

  An odd expression flickered across his face. “I’m doing okay. Mom’s taking care of me.”

  She noticed his hand was white-knuckled on the chair arm. “I’m glad,” she said. “Let her spoil you.”

  “I don’t have much of a choice right now.”

  She nodded, looking at his hand, wanting so badly to touch it. “Lucas told me that the surgery was touch-and-go—” Her voice gave out. She cleared her throat. “I mean—”

  He inclined his head. “It was, although I didn’t know it until it was all over. The first thing I remember after they put me in the ambulance is waking up in the hospital. Ethan was there, looking exhausted and worried.”

  “Everybody was worried about you.”

  The crooked smile played about his mouth again. But the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I know,” he said. “A lot of people came by—and called.”

  Dani winced. “I wanted to call. I asked Lucas about you, but he said your family was there. And that’s who you needed. You needed to rest and get better with your parents and your brothers around you.” The more she said, the lamer her excuses sounded. But what was she supposed to say?

  Get well soon? Thanks for keeping me alive and for taking a bullet for me? By the way, did the mind-blowing sex mean anything to you?

  She’d been his star witness. He’d taken care of her, protected her, made sure the bad guys didn’t kill her. He’d have been here in the prosecutor’s chair, fighting for justice for her granddad, if he’d been able. But it was over now. He’d done what he had to do. He’d go back to being a prosecutor and a Delancey, and she’d go back to being a public defender.

  “Dani, it’s okay. I understand. We Delanceys can be intimidating.”

  She shook her head. “You almost died. You needed your family. Besides, I was in good hands with Natalie. She’s a good prosecutor. Not as good as you, I didn’t mean that. I mean, you’re both good.”

  Harte grimaced at Dani’s words and her tone.

  She continued, talking too rapidly. “So the judge didn’t talk about sentencing. When do you think it will be?” Her hands twisted in her lap.

  He put his hand over hers to still them. “Dani, stop.”

  She looked up, a faint panic showing in her eyes. He had no idea if she was afraid he was going to say something intimate, or afraid he wasn’t.

  “Tell me what’s the matter?” he asked warily.

  Her hand squeezed his. She closed her eyes. “I—I’m not sure. I know Yeoman’s going to prison. I know you’re going to be okay. I should be happy to get back to my normal life.”

  She straightened and looked at him, uttering a short laugh. “I thought I was afraid of storms. But that was a childish phobia. When I saw you lying on the floor bleeding, when I thought we were going to be killed and I couldn’t do anything—I realized that is real fear. Fear of how easily all this—” She waved a hand. “Our lives can be cut short. That’s a fear I’m not sure will ever go away.”

  Harte’s throat tightened. The pain of his wound didn’t hurt nearly as much as seeing her like this. She had learned a horrible lesson, and it had destroyed her last childish belief—that fear was all about oneself, and there was always a stronger person who could wipe it away.

  “I know,” he said. “When I felt the bullet hit me, I was sure that was it. I was dead.”

  She made a strangled sound.

  “But that didn’t scare me nearly as much as the thought that I’d be leaving you alone.” He closed his eyes. “I’ve never been that afraid before.”

  “You thought of me?” she said. Her tone was reverent.

  “Of course I did. If I could, I’d make sure you never had to feel afraid again.” He squeezed her hand.

  “There’s nothing I’d like better,” she murmured.

  “Do you mean that?” His voice was subdued. He pulled her hand toward him and pressed her fingers against his lips.

  She swallowed, her gaze on his lips against her knuckles. Then she looked at him. “Except maybe to make sure you’re always safe.”

  He smiled at her. To his surprise, her eyes immediately welled up with tears. She swiped at them as if they were flies.

  “I swear to you I never cry,” she said, sniffling.

  “Yeah, right,” he said as he leaned toward her, pulling on her hand. She sat forward and kissed him gently on the lips.

  He wanted more, wanted to pull her to him and kiss her hard and long. He wanted to do more than kiss her, but every time he moved, his bound shoulder seized in pain, reminding him of how close that bullet had been to his heart.

  Dani pulled her head back and looked at him. “So, what now?” she asked.

  “What now?” He smiled at her. “I’d like to pick you up and carry you off to my bed. But I don’t think that’s going to happen for a while.” He shifted in the chair and winced. “The best I can offer you right now is the opportunity to lie beside me and watch me sleep, occasionally fetch me a glass of water and help me get to my feet when I need to.”

  “That sounds wonderful, as long as you promise to slay dragons for me.”

  “That, my lady, is what I live for.”

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt of Ultimate Cowboy by Rita Herron!

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Intrigue story.

  You crave excitement! Harlequin Intrigue stories deal in serious suspense, keeping you on the edge of your seat as resourceful, true-to-life women and strong, fearless men fight for survival.

  Enjoy six new stories from Harlequin Intrigue every month!

  Visit Harlequin.com to find your next great read.

  We like you—why not like us on Facebook: Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks

  Follow us on Twitter: Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks

  Read our blog for all the latest news on our authors and books: HarlequinBlog.com

  Subscribe to our newsletter for special offers, new releases, and more!

  Harlequin.com/newsletters

  Chapter One

  “This special news report just in—an amber alert has been issued for six-year-old Hank Forte. Hank was last seen at the county fair in Amarillo.”

  Brody Bloodworth’s heart clenched as a photo of the boy appeared on screen. The little boy had blond hair, was wearing a black T-shirt, jeans and cowboy boots. He could be one of the kids on the BBL, the Bucking Bronc Lodge he had started for needy children.

  But he reminded him more of his own little brother, Will, and launched him back seven years ago to the day Will had gone missing.

  Not from a county fair but from the rodeo where he was supposed to be watching him.

  Self-loathing and guilt suffuse
d him, once again robbing his lungs of air. He understood what the family of that little boy was going through now. The panic. The fear.

  The guilt.

  If only they’d kept a better eye on him. If only they hadn’t turned their head for a minute.

  What was happening to him? Had he just wandered off? Would they find him hiding out or playing somewhere at the fair? Maybe he had fallen asleep in a stall housing one of the animals...

  Or had someone taken him? Maybe a desperate woman who’d lost a child and was out of her mind? A child predator who’d do God knows what?

  A killer?

  The reporter turned the microphone to Hank’s parents, a couple who were huddled together, teary-eyed and frightened. A second later, they began to plead for their son’s return, and the mother broke down into sobs.

  Brody hit the remote, silencing the heart-wrenching scene, but it played over and over in his head. But it wasn’t the Forte family’s cries he heard; it was his own family’s.

  His father who’d blamed him from the get-go.

  Because it was his fault.

  He glanced through the window at the sprawling acres and acres of land he’d bought, to the horse stables and pens and the boys that he’d taken in. All kids who had troubles, boys who needed homes and love and guidance.

  But no matter how much he did for them, it wouldn’t make up for losing his little brother.

  The clock in the hall struck 6:00 p.m., and he stood, pulled on his duster jacket and headed outside. One of his best men, Mason Blackpaw, and his fiancée, Cara Winchester, were getting married on the ranch in a few minutes. He’d promised he’d be there, and he was happy for his friend, but weddings always made him uncomfortable.

  And he’d attended a hell of a lot of them lately. In fact, all of his original investors had tied the knot. First Johnny Long, then Brandon Woodstock, Carter Flagstone, then Miles McGregor, and now Mason.

  Yanking at his tie to loosen the choking knot, he glanced at the field to the right where Mason had built a gazebo. Cara had rented tables and chairs and had decorated them with white linens, bows and fresh day lilies.