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Jenna's Cowboys

Page 27

by Laura Jo Phillips


  “Does Jenna know this?”

  “Yes, she does,” Doc said. “Jenna looks and acts meek and mild, but she’s as smart as they come, and she has a will of solid steel. If determination could get her through this I wouldn’t have a single worry about her. But her body isn’t near as strong as her mind.”

  “I hear you, Doc, and I understand. We’ll be a lot more careful with her, I promise. We should have asked you about this yesterday and I’m sorry I didn’t.”

  Doc looked at Cole for a long moment, then nodded. “You’re doing just fine, Cole.”

  “Can I ask another question?”

  “You can ask as many as you like now that I’ve got Jenna’s permission.”

  “I don’t know much about these things, I admit, but it seems to me that giving birth to one baby, let alone two, might not be such a good idea with her heart.”

  “You’re right,” Doc agreed, shaking his head slowly. “It’s not a good idea at all. I told Jenna we’d have to see how things played out, but that was before we knew she was carrying twins, and before I knew how much trouble her heart was going to give her. As things stand right now, my opinion is that the physical effort and pain of labor and delivery is an unacceptable risk. And that’s not going to change.

  “With full bed rest, regular meals, no stress, and no further gunshot wounds or car bombs, I believe she has a good chance of making it into her eighth month. If so, this pregnancy may have a happy ending. But don’t fool yourself, Cole. Jenna is not going to get strong enough to return to working the way she was a week ago under any circumstances until those babies are born. Hell, she’s not going to get strong enough to take a turn through Flo’s Market unless her heart miraculously starts working normally. And she’s definitely not going to get strong enough to survive the protracted strain that labor and delivery of not just one, but two babies, would put on her heart.”

  “It sounds like Jenna’s pushing for that.”

  “She has been,” Doc admitted with a sigh.

  “Why?” Cole asked. “Even I know C-sections are fairly common. Why would she object to that?”

  “Because she already has scars on her uterus, and they’re fairly significant ones. You saw the images so I don’t have to describe them.”

  Cole swallowed hard as the images flashed through his mind. “No Doc, you don’t.”

  Doc nodded. “She was told it was unlikely she’d be able to get pregnant, and if she did, even less likely that she’d carry to term because of the scars. Fortunately, she heals remarkably well, so the scars are much less pronounced than they were just a couple of years ago.”

  “So, if you were to take the babies surgically, you’d have to add another scar to her uterus,” Cole said.

  “Exactly,” Doc said. “For most women it’s fairly safe. For Jenna, it may or may not prevent her from getting pregnant again, and that’s her sticking point.”

  “That’s not a deciding factor, Doc,” Cole said. “Jenna’s life comes first. Without her, nothing else matters.”

  “I know exactly how you feel Cole, and I’m glad to hear you say it,” Doc said, nodding. “We just have to convince Jenna of that.”

  “She can be a helluva lot more stubborn than Dillon and I ever imagined,” Cole said, smiling down at her. “But we’re gonna love her so hard that one day she won’t have any choice but to believe us.”

  “Good,” Doc said with a firm nod.

  “Thanks for coming out so fast, Doc.”

  “I’m glad I was so close. I’m going to leave a few more of these sedatives with you but go easy with them. They won’t hurt Jenna or the babies if given as I’ve prescribed, but if they’re used too often their effectiveness will decrease, and a larger dose wouldn’t be as safe as I’d like.”

  “I’ll remember, Doc,” Cole said, then looked up when Peter entered the kitchen.

  “Luke and Jag are both here,” he said. “They got men all over the place so it’s safe for you to take Jenna into the bedroom now.”

  “Thanks Peter,” Cole said. “Oh, please call the hangar and tell them we won’t be needing the chopper.”

  “They’ll be glad to hear it,” Peter said, looking mighty relieved himself.

  “You call me if you have any questions or concerns,” Doc said, patting Cole on the shoulder and taking one last look at Jenna.

  “We will Doc,” Cole promised. After the two men left Cole pulled Jenna just a little closer against his chest, then carried her out of the kitchen and up the hall to bed.

  ***

  “What the fuck happened?” Dillon demanded in a whisper as he reached out with a trembling hand to touch Jenna, only to pull back for fear of waking her. Seeing the Sheriff’s SUV, Deputy Sal’s cruiser, and Jag’s van out front had scared him, but there’d been no one around to demand explanations from. When he’d seen the living room windows shot out, he’d damn near had a heart attack.

  “A bullet grazed her,” Cole said. “She was lying on the couch taking a nap at the time.”

  “How bad?”

  “Doc put ten stitches in and gave her a sedative. Luke, Jag, and Peter have every man they could call in searching under every rock on the place for the shooter. We still don’t know if it was an accident or not, but it feels deliberate to me. Too many shots were fired into the living room for it to be an accident.”

  “I just can’t understand why anyone would wanna hurt her,” Dillon said with frustration.

  “Me neither, but I’m taking no chances. I’m having every damn window in the house replaced with bulletproof glass. The Olsens should be here any minute to start putting up plywood until they can get the glass and a security door ordered. They have enough bulletproof glass to install in this room, so they’ll do that once Jenna’s awake and no longer in here.”

  Dillon nodded. “What did Doc say?”

  “He said she’ll be fine, but her shoulder’s gonna hurt,” he replied, then shared the rest of what Doc had told him concerning medications. He saved the conversation about her heart for later, when he could be certain Jenna wouldn’t overhear it.

  “She won’t wanna take anything that’ll hurt the babies,” Dillon said.

  “Yeah, she didn’t even want Doc to give her an anesthetic before he stitched her up.”

  Dillon winced. “We’ll just have to keep her mind on other things.”

  “Did you get everything on her list?”

  “Yeah, believe it or not, I did.” Then he looked up at Cole and smiled through his worry. “Did she tell you what’s in that box she asked for?”

  “No, she didn’t,” Cole replied. “What is it?”

  “Wait’ll you see,” Dillon said. “Hang on a bit. I need to carry a few boxes in from the truck.” He rose from the bed, moving carefully so as not to jar Jenna, then left the room. He was back a few minutes later with three cardboard boxes stacked in his arms. He slid them onto the dresser, then removed the top carton and set it on a chair before setting the lid aside. “The Olsens are here,” he said, reaching into the carton. “They’re starting on the living room now.” He lifted a large paper tablet from the box and handed it to Cole. “Take a look at that.”

  Cole took the tablet and looked at the cover. His eyebrows shot up when he saw it was a drawing pad. He turned the cover back and smiled at the first drawing. It was a child, a little boy sitting on a swing in a park or playground, his eyes sparkling with laughter, his grin so big and so happy that it was impossible not to smile while looking at it. The drawing was incredibly detailed and realistic, and yet it was done in pencil without any color at all. The longer he looked at it, the more detail he saw. The tiny stitches in the boy’s shirt. The delicate nails on the tips of his fingers as they gripped the swing, the moisture in the boy’s mouth and in his eyes. It looked more like a photograph than a drawing, but at the same time, it conveyed more emotion and warmth than any photograph he’d ever seen.

  “Amazing, isn’t it?” Dillon whispered from behind him.
/>   Cole couldn’t speak for the feelings the drawing raised in him. He nodded and carefully turned the page, not letting his fingers touch the surface of the drawing. The next page showed a little girl sitting in a sandbox with a toy truck, her hair a riot of curls around her face, her forehead wrinkled in a frown as she shook her finger at a doll sitting in the back of the truck. The next drawing was of a pregnant woman sitting on a park bench, one hand on her stomach, the expression on her face distant and dreamy. Cole had taken an art appreciation class in college and he decided that the smile on the pregnant woman’s face had to exceed, or at least rival, the Mona Lisa for its mystery.

  The rest of the drawings were the same. Children, women, babies, couples, all caught in a single emotional moment, all rendered in simple pencil without color.

  “I had no idea she could draw like that,” he said when he was finished. “Hell, I had no idea anyone could draw like that and I know a thing or two about art.”

  Dillon nodded his agreement. “Did you look at the dates on the drawings?”

  “Yeah, the last one was dated about four years ago.”

  “There are six or seven more tablets in that box, along with a few drawing supplies,” Dillon said. “This tablet has the latest dates.”

  “She hasn’t drawn in four years?” Cole asked, frowning.

  “Looks that way.”

  “That’s a shame. She has an incredible talent.”

  “Yeah, but I’m thinking that asking for that box might mean she wants to start drawing again.”

  “We were talking about finding something for her to do when she asked me to call you for it, so yeah, I think maybe you’re right.”

  The doorbell rang and they both looked up alertly. “I’ll go,” Cole said. “Why don’t you stay here with her for a while?”

  “Happy to,” Dillon said. “I’ll put her things away. There’s another box that needs to come in here, and some bags in the kitchen. If you can have someone bring the box and leave it outside the door I’ll take care of that too.”

  “Okay,” Cole said. He leaned down to press his lips against Jenna’s forehead. “For a few seconds, before I got close enough to see her trembling, I thought we’d lost her, Dillon,” he said, his voice low and filled with pain unlike anything Dillon had ever heard before. “It felt like someone had reached into my chest and torn my heart out. It only lasted a few seconds, right up till I realized she was alive, but it was long enough for me to know that we can’t live a lifetime with that kind of pain. We can’t let her die, Dillon. That’s all there is to it. We just can’t.”

  “We won’t. I don’t care what we have to do, we aren’t losing her, and she’s not dying.”

  Cole stood up and met his brother’s gaze steadily. They nodded in mutual understanding, then Cole left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. Dillon stared down at Jenna for a few moments, then turned to the other two boxes he’d brought in and began putting things away. After he’d put the few items of clothing she’d asked for in the dresser and put the additional toiletries in the bathroom, he opened another box that contained things she hadn’t asked for. Little things he’d seen on her dresser and bedside table that he thought she might like having around her. A clear crystal butterfly. An antique china doll in a white satin dress. A framed photograph of her and a man he had no doubt was her father. A small, pale pink silk covered jewelry box. A lavender perfume bottle that held her own personal scent.

  He smiled as he worked, enjoying the sight of the delicate, feminine things he unpacked and put around the room. Jenna had good taste, he thought. Not a lot of flowers or ruffles or fussiness. She liked things to be uncluttered and clean, but also soothing to the senses. She was so damn perfect for them in every way.

  After emptying the boxes he opened the door and set them in the hall, then brought in the one he’d asked Cole to get for him. This one held her laptop, iPad, chargers, headphones and other gear she’d asked for. He plugged everything in at the built in charging dock next to the oak entertainment center along one wall, then put that box out in the hall too. All that was left now was the box of art supplies. He walked over to it, looked inside, and frowned, tapping the box thoughtfully. He reached for the intercom device hanging around his neck and pressed a button on the side to talk to Cole.

  “Yeah?” Cole said, his voice tinny through the tiny speaker.

  “If you get a moment would you track down an iPad or a laptop for me?” Dillon asked. “I think mine’s in the office on the desk but I don’t wanna leave Jenna alone long enough to go get it with so many men in the house.”

  “Agreed,” Cole said. “Give me just a minute.”

  “Thanks,” Dillon said. He released the button and began removing the supplies from the box and putting them on a shelf beside the television. He’d just finished when Cole came in with his iPad. He handed it to Dillon, then moved to the bed to check on Jenna. Satisfied she was sleeping peacefully they both walked over to the door where they could talk in low voices without disturbing her.

  “What’s up?”

  “There’s got to be a way of organizing her drawing supplies that’ll make them easy for her get to, and portable enough for us to move around for her. I thought I’d do a bit of research online, see what’s available.”

  “Good idea,” Cole said.

  “How’s it going out there?”

  “With all the men the Olsens brought, the living room will only take another hour. Hopefully Jenna will be awake by then so they can work in here.”

  Dillon nodded. “What about the shooter?”

  Cole’s jaw clenched and Dillon braced himself for bad news. “Sal found a couple dozen cartridge casings about a mile away, up on the east ridge, just at the edge of our property line.”

  Dillon paled. “Son of a bitch. It wasn’t an accident.”

  “No, the shooter was aiming for Jenna,” he said in a voice so low Dillon could barely hear him. “Three bullets hit the sofa, including the one that grazed her. The other two were just a bit higher. For some reason she didn’t budge an inch when she got shot. It saved her life. The way she was lying just barely hid her from what the shooter’s view would have been. He probably saw me going in to check on her, and took a guess at her location. But if she’d raised her head, even a little, she’d have been visible over the top of the coffee table.”

  “Those the only shots fired?”

  “No, he shot half a dozen times to break the glass out first,” Cole said. “Made a mess of the fireplace, but that prevented the bullets from entering the kitchen so that’s not a bad thing.”

  “What else?” Dillon asked, knowing there was more by the expression on Cole’s face.

  “Three bullets, all spaced closely together, went into the coffee table. If it hadn’t been there, they would have all hit her in the head or neck.”

  Dillon’s legs went weak so suddenly that locking his knees was the only thing that prevented him from hitting the floor. “Thank God for that monster coffee table,” he said shakily. “I’ll never complain about how big and heavy it is again.”

  “No, me neither.”

  “What I don’t get is, why?”

  “The only people we know of who have anything against her are from her old hometown. But it’s been four years since the attack, and well over a year since she came to Sparx. Why would anyone come after her after all this time?”

  “I don’t know, but we need to find out,” Dillon said.

  Cole nodded. “By the way, I’m having the windows on both our trucks switched out with bulletproof glass, and I’ve already told Jag to add that to whatever vehicle we pick. It’ll take an extra couple of days to get it, but I don’t care. Peter said if Jenna needs to go into town for any reason, we can use his king cab. At least she can lie down in the back seat.”

  “Good,” Dillon said, nodding. “Is Mrs. Hannigan here?”

  “Yeah, she’s got the mess in the living room about cleaned up and planned to start lunch a
fter that.” He checked his watch. “I think Jenna’ll be waking up soon and I hope she’ll be hungry.”

  “Did you get the chicken soup out of the cooler?”

  “Yeah, she’s gonna heat it up and make us all some grilled sandwiches to go with it.”

  “Meg brought the soup over special when she saw my truck at the shop. She said it’s Jenna’s favorite.” He smiled. “She told me that she, Jack and Hank are grandparents to our babies, and warned us not to even think about keeping her away from Jenna. I promised her we’d never consider doing such a thing, and I told her we were just as happy as could be that our babies have grandparents. I invited her to come visit Jenna any time she wants, along with Jack and Hank, too.”

  “That’ll make Jenna real happy,” Cole said. “Did you get the things from her purse? And the new phone?”

  “Yes, they’re in that little bag over there on the dresser. The phone is activated and Gordon was able to transfer her address book and other data from the old one to the new one.” They were both distracted when a soft sound alerted them that Jenna was waking up. They crossed the room, Dillon climbing onto the bed with her while Cole sat down beside her. They didn’t have long to wait before she opened her eyes and blinked. She looked confused for a moment, then her eyes cleared and widened.

  “Easy,” Cole said, placing a careful hand on her hip, not wanting to touch either shoulder now since both had injuries.

  “How you feeling, angel?” Dillon asked.

  “A lot like I got shot,” she said. “What happened?”

  “You got shot,” Cole said. She smiled, surprising them.

  “I figured,” she said. “Any idea why? Or who?”

  “Not yet,” Cole said. “We got people on it. You hungry?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Very, actually, which is sort of surprising. I generally have to force myself to eat.”

  “Maybe you’re a little more relaxed here,” Dillon said. “After all, everyone knows bullets are easier on the digestion than bombs.”

  Jenna grinned, then looked back at Cole. “Before I forget, I wanna thank you Cole, for being there for me today. You helped me a lot.”

 

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