Their gazes remained locked as Andrea drew a shaky breath and then clicked the pen’s button with her thumb.
“There is no other way,” Kapur urged when she hesitated.
The taste of tears on her tongue, Andrea reached the same conclusion.
* * *
The skies had brightened to a deep autumnal blue by the time Ian walked Andrea to the truck that afternoon. According to the instructions on her discharge papers, she needed rest and relaxation but no further treatment, provided there were no changes in her condition.
“I’m restraining myself from saying ‘I told you so,’” Andrea said to Ian on the way home.
“Not very convincingly.” He sent a wry smile her way. “But you heard what the doctor said last night. You could’ve had a serious brain injury or complications from near-drowning.”
She didn’t smile back. “Could have, but I didn’t, and now I’ve cost you another fat hospital bill, along with a night’s sleep. And probably a ticket, if Canter catches you driving around without a license again.”
“I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” he said as Marston’s residential neighborhoods gave way to pastures dotted with goats and geese and donkeys, “so not another word about it, please.”
“How about two instead, then? Thank you. For everything you’ve done.”
“That’s more than two, but I’ll take ’em.” He reached into a storage compartment and came up with a pair of Zach’s sunglasses. “You should put these on. Don’t want all this sunshine giving you a headache.”
She shook her head. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to lean back and rest for a while.”
“Sure thing,” he answered, sparing her a troubled glance. Since the doctor had left her room again, she’d been distracted and withdrawn, fending off his every attempt to draw her into conversation. At first, he’d worried that she might have gotten upsetting news about her condition, but when she’d finally been discharged hours later, the nurse reviewing her instructions had repeatedly emphasized how very lucky she had been.
Depends on your definition of luck, Andrea had answered with a smile that struck Ian as more desperate than reassuring.
It wasn’t until they were nearly halfway home that she finally yawned and straightened. “Sorry I’ve been such rotten company.”
“You couldn’t have gotten much rest last night, with the nurses waking you up every couple of hours.”
“More than you did, I’m sure. You must be exhausted by now, and if you’ve had anything to eat at all, I didn’t see it.”
“I’m fine.” Behind the sunglasses he had donned, his eyes burned with fatigue, but it was nothing he couldn’t set to rights with a couple hours’ sack time and a visit to the kitchen. “And anyway, I’m not the one who crashed my car and nearly drowned, not to mention whatever went on between you and your boss.”
Grimacing, she shook her head. “I might be the shrink here, as you’d put it, but I should really have my head examined for ever getting involved with my supervisor in the first place. Talk about putting all your eggs into one basket.”
Ian chose his words with great care, reminding himself how his return had complicated her life, unraveling what she’d made of it in the two years since they’d parted. “So it didn’t go over well, I take it, when you told him why you couldn’t keep counseling me?”
“You know what? It’s over now, and I’m finished with him. Finished with Warriors-4-Life, too, as long as he’s a part of it.”
“That place meant a lot to you, didn’t it?” he said, hearing the regret in her voice.
She sighed. “I’m really going to miss it, not so much the place as all the people. We were a tight-knit group, and the soldiers there are such an inspiration. They keep trying for a new life, fighting their way back even when their families have given up on them and employers are afraid to take a chance on—”
“Head cases like me,” Ian mused.
“They aren’t head cases, Ian, or damaged goods, or whatever labels you’ve come up with to punish yourself and judge others like you. You’re all just people, people who need a hand up after someone’s knocked them down. It’s what you’re doing for me, isn’t it? You don’t think any less of me for it, do you?”
“Of course not, but that’s different,” he told her. “You were physically injured, and anyway, men are supposed to be—” His father’s face forked through his brain like lightning. Dark with fury, with the spittle flying as he shouted, Don’t give me any of your sniveling, or by God, I’ll teach you how a real man bears up.
A leather belt swung through the darkness. Behind the wheel, he flinched, hearing the crack of that strap against tender flesh. Burning with remembered shame as, in his desperation to keep from crying out, he had felt his six-year-old bladder give way.
“Supposed to be what?” she asked. “Carved from stone or forged from metal?”
“My old man damned sure was,” said Ian. “He wouldn’t have given the enemy the satisfaction of...”
From the recesses of his mind, Ian heard a grown man’s voice cry, “I’ll tell you what you want. I’ll tell you anything, I swear it.”
Had it been his own, in the moment his resistance had crumpled? That moment he’d cost five others their lives?
“Of what, Ian?” Andrea pressed. “Being a flesh-and-blood human, instead of some celluloid character from an old John Wayne movie?”
“Come to think of it,” Ian said, “it wouldn’t be the first time that foul-tempered son of a bitch steered me wrong.”
“Then maybe you should try showing yourself a measure of the compassion you’ve shown me,” she suggested. “The same compassion I suspect you’d show to anyone but yourself.”
As something shifted in his thinking, he thought how well suited this woman was to the profession she had chosen. How incredibly generous she was, to reach out through her fresher pain to try to ease his own.
They passed a little band of horses, dun and brown and gray heads that lifted from the grass to mark their progress.
“I’m sorry, Andie,” he said, “sorry for messing things up for you at Warriors-4-Life.” But I’ll never be sorry that I kissed you, only that I was such an idiot to think, even for a minute, that a woman like you mattered less than my career.
She crossed her arms to rub them. “My fault. I never should’ve imagined I could— Let’s just forget it, okay? I can’t talk about this. Slow down. This is it, right?”
Leaning forward against the shoulder belt, she peered out toward the bend of Spur Creek he’d pulled her from. She was staring toward the rocks, furrows digging deep into her forehead.
“I thought it would be deeper,” she said. “I remember the water pouring in, so much water that I couldn’t breathe.”
With no traffic behind them, he slowed the truck to a crawl. “Yesterday, it was. Water levels come up fast with a hard rain, but it doesn’t take too long to drain off.”
They passed an area of disturbed earth, rutted with tire marks, probably from where her poor old Honda had been pulled out and then towed away. At the center of the bridge, they passed a section strung with orange netting and a warning sign, the place where she’d crashed through the railing.
“We could’ve both drowned when you jumped in to free me. Could have both been in the morgue now.”
“But we’re here and we’re alive, so how about we make it count for something?”
Not seeming to hear him, Andrea shuddered and covered her mouth to hide her muted cry. Reaching over, he squeezed the fingers of her free hand, and he wanted to tell her how damned sorry he was for somehow bringing things down on her head. But words failed him, as they often did, and all he could think of for the remainder of their journey was how he was going to do whatever it took to make sure no one ever threatened her again.
> Once they arrived at the ranch, he took care to deflect his family’s well-meaning concern when they came inside—well, everyone but Eden, who took one of Andrea’s hands and solemnly laid it onto the back of the larger of her two Australian shepherds. “When I get scared or sad, I just pet my puppies. Lionheart—that’s this one—gives the best hugs, but Sweetheart’s extra good at kissing faces. Would you like to borrow one...just for today?”
Andrea smiled and squatted down, wincing only a little, a reminder of her soreness. As she stroked the young dogs’ heads, first one and then the other, she said, “That’s so generous of you, but both of them are so sweet, I wouldn’t know how to choose. So how about I come back out and rub both tummies, once I’ve had a good sleep.”
“And Gretel’s, too?” Eden asked, pointing toward the Rottweiler, who sat politely beside Jessie. “She likes tummy rubs the best.”
“Then Gretel, too,” Andrea said before returning her attention to the adults and thanking Ian’s mother, brother and Jessie for allowing her to be their guest again. “You’re very kind to have me back.”
“Of course, dear. You’re very welcome to stay as long as you like,” said Ian’s mother, sounding as if she genuinely meant it.
“I’ve moved a few things into your closet,” Jessie chimed in. “The pants might be a bit short for you, but they’ll get you through the next few days till one of us can take you shopping.”
“Sounds perfect. Thanks,” she said, but her gaze was straying toward the stairwell, a hint his family took that, above all else, she needed rest and privacy.
Ian helped her settle in, bringing her fresh toiletries to get her started and asking her to make a list of anything else she would need. “Whatever you think of, please don’t hesitate. I know what it’s like to lose everything you own.”
“I guess you would,” she said with a wan smile. “But you’ve already done so much. And I don’t want to be a charity case.”
“You’re not a charity. You’re my friend, right? We agreed on it,” he said. “And my one real shot at figuring out what it is someone doesn’t want you helping me to remember.”
Her worried eyes avoided his, making him wonder, was there something she knew or guessed but hadn’t told him? Or was she only frightened and trying not to show it?
Instead of giving her more space, he took a half step forward and pulled her into his arms. Beneath her warm flesh, her body was as stiff as wire, so he stroked her back and spoke to her as if she were a frightened colt. “We’ll get this fixed. I swear it,” he said. “Until then, keeping you safe is my number-one priority.”
Instead of melting into his arms as he’d hoped, she pulled away to study his face. “But who will keep you safe, Ian? Who will stop the bullets the next time they come flying?”
“We have people on it, so don’t you worry about that. Just concentrate on getting stronger so you can work a little of your magic on my head. All right?”
She hesitated a moment and then nodded, her long lashes clumped with moisture. As upset as she looked, it seemed wrong to notice how beautiful she was, how much her every touch made him ache for more.
Fighting the impulse to kiss away her worry, to make each of them forget everything except the other’s body, he headed for the door.
“Wait,” she said. “There is one more thing I’m going to need, if it’s not too big of an issue. I have to log in to my work account and make sure all the clients I’ve been seeing are properly taken care of.”
“Sure thing. I’ll loan you my laptop. You’re welcome to keep it as long as you’re staying here.”
“Thanks, but won’t you miss it?”
He shook his head. “Since Zach insisted on getting me that new smartphone, I’ve been using if for just about everything. And if I need something bigger, I’ll just borrow Mama’s—all she uses the thing for is playing online word games anyway.”
After bringing Andrea the laptop, he headed downstairs to the kitchen, where he caught up with his brother while raiding the refrigerator for the leftover fried chicken, potato salad and baked beans he had missed the night before.
“Keep that up, and you’ll be too stuffed for the pot roast I smell cooking,” Zach warned as he watched Ian practically inhaling his first plateful. “She’ll be baking yeast rolls to go with it.”
Ian looked up from his chicken leg. “If you’re plotting to eat my share, don’t count on it, or I may just gnaw your arm off. Didn’t want to leave Andrea unguarded too long, so I skipped lunch today. And breakfast.”
“It’s a miracle you didn’t eat an orderly or something, the way you’ve been going through food lately, buzz saw,” Zach said.
“Buzz saw,” Ian said. “I kind of like that. But I’ll sure miss hearing you call me bonehead.”
“Don’t count on it, bro.” Zach’s wry smile faded as he got down to more serious matters. “Just wanted to let you know Virgil’s set a couple of our best hands working up around the barn for the rest of the week. He’s asked them to keep a close eye out for any strangers and report back to him or me immediately. I’ve put in a few phone calls, too. We need a head of ranch security, and we need somebody good.”
“On a permanent basis, you mean? Not just until this SOB’s caught?”
His brother nodded. “That’s what I’m thinking. The family was high profile enough before this gas discovery, and then your return hit the news. And wherever people know there’s money, they start looking for a way to separate you from it. Everything from elaborate cons—you wouldn’t believe the calls and emails I’ve been fielding—right down to kidnappings.”
“You’re worried about Eden.”
“I’m worried about all of us, but, yeah. I’d be a fool not to realize my five-year-old daughter’s vulnerable, especially now that she’s attending public school. She loves it there, loves her friends and her teacher, and I don’t want to have to twist Jessie’s arm into homeschooling her just because I’m afraid.”
Ian put down the chicken bone and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I was right before. I should leave and take Andrea with me somewhere I can keep us both—”
“We’ve already had this conversation, and I can tell you, running off isn’t the answer. Especially when I’m still not convinced this isn’t somehow tied to Jessie’s work.”
“Not to downplay the risks involved in her career, but you’re beating a dead horse, Zach. This guy who knocked Andrea’s car over the bridge couldn’t have mistaken her for your wife this time.”
“You don’t think, in a rainstorm, he might mix up—?”
“You’re grasping at straws, man,” Ian said. “Have you asked her about the note yet?”
Zach sighed. “Not much point in doing that unless I’m prepared to believe her answer. Maybe if I looked for it myself...”
Ian stared as if his brother had sprouted horns. And people called him paranoid. “That woman’s the best thing that ever happened to you, and you’re going to spy on her?”
“I went so damned long without a family, any family,” Zach said, shaking his head in frustration. “The things our old man did made us—made me—so closed off, so guarded that it’s a wonder anyone ever bothered cracking through to find her way in. But now that I finally have everything I really need, there’s no way I’ll risk losing it. No way I’ll take that chance.”
In that moment, Ian’s brother was a stranger to him, a man who, for all his toughness, would go to any extremes for those he loved. But Ian couldn’t fault his brother for his willingness to risk anything he thought might secure his family...
Not when Ian still had the sealed, crumpled note he’d picked up off the floor in Andrea’s hospital room and stuffed into his pocket. Though he suspected that reading it would be a terrible idea, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to dump it in the trash can either, as he’d fi
rst intended.
But whether or not he or his brother had begun to plumb the depths of craziness when it came to the women they loved, Ian wouldn’t let Zach shoulder the entire burden alone.
“I’ll tell you what,” Ian offered. “Why don’t you let me take over the job of hiring security for the ranch.”
“There’s no need for that, not when you’re still getting your feet back under you, recovering from—from what you went through, over there.”
“I’ve been eating your groceries and playing the lone cowboy long enough. It’s time I started pulling my weight around here, and security’s my area of expertise. I’ll handle any strange emails you get, too.”
“I still think we need somebody full-time.”
“Then let me do the vetting and take care of the hiring. I have some pretty good contacts in that arena.”
Zach shook his head, his eyes betraying his uncertainty. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the offer, man, but you’ve only been back a few weeks. And you still—we’ve heard you late at night. Heard you shouting out with those nightmares.”
“Hell,” said Ian, raking his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry about that. Why didn’t you say something? I’m not—I’m not scaring Eden, am I?”
“A little bit, a couple times, but we got her settled right down.”
Ian grimaced, his face heating, certain that his brother was downplaying his kid’s reaction so as not to hurt his feelings. “Sorry, Zach. And what about Mom? Has she heard me, too?”
Zach hesitated before admitting, “Listen, man, she’s so glad to have you back, she’d never say a word about it. It’s really no big deal. Forget I brought it up, will you?”
“I will,” Ian promised, “but only if you’ll start treating me like a brother and a partner instead of a grenade somebody’s pulled the pin on.”
Zach extended his right hand, and the two shook on the deal. Later that evening, Ian packed a couple of boxes and moved over to the guest wing, down the hall from Andrea’s bedroom. He told himself he was doing it for Eden’s and his mother’s sakes, and to be available should their guest need anything during her recovery.
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