by Cate Beauman
Hunter turned to leave, but she caught his eye, questioning him with a glance, holding him prisoner until she disappeared into the back of the ambulance and it drove away.
CHAPTER 31
HUNTER DIDN’T MEET THEM AT the hospital as she hoped he would. Morgan spent two hours in the ER, waiting for the doctor to swab ointment on her wound, tape a new bandage in place, pat her shoulder, and tell her she was just fine. She walked out of the hospital and into the cab her father called for them.
“The police station, please,” Morgan said to the driver as they settled in the backseat. She glanced at her dad. “I told you I didn’t need to go to the ER. We just wasted two hours that could’ve been spent somewhere else.”
She wanted to see Hunter, to feel his arms around her. After the rollercoaster of a day, she needed him—and he needed her. He’d acted strange, distant, but now that things were different between them, he could tell her what bothered him. They would deal with it together. She wanted to put this nightmare behind her, behind them both, and move forward.
A smile ghosted her lips; her pulse beat faster. He’d asked her to come to L.A. She’d been so preoccupied with saying goodbye, she hadn’t let herself believe in possibilities, but here they were before her. Hunter opened the door to hope; she was going to run through it.
“The next time you get grazed by a bullet, I’ll let you call the shots; although, there better not be a next time,” her dad warned.
Morgan pressed her side against his until his arm came around her. “I can promise you I will never get shot again, no matter how minor.”
Her father smiled, kissed her forehead.
“Did you check on Baker while we waited forever?”
“Yes. He’ll be fine after a little R and R. They were rolling him out of surgery when I called for the cab. His wife is flying in tonight. They’ll go home the day after next.”
“Well, that’s good.” She stared out the window, watching the buildings pass by before turning to her dad again. “These past few days’ve been insane. It doesn’t seem real. I can’t believe Miles was behind everything. He seemed like such a nice person. I gave him cooking lessons, for heaven’s sake.” She shook her head. “He killed my friends, then let me teach him how to cook.” Her eyes wandered back to the passing buildings, still trying to absorb the gravity of the situation. “Hunter didn’t like him. He was right about him.”
“Well, Hunter’s a smart man.”
She smiled. “Yes, he is.” Her light mood fell away. “I wish this could’ve ended differently. I wish they were still here.”
“It’s terrible, Peanut, just terrible.” Her father snuggled her closer. “I spoke to the police again while you were in with the doctor. Word about the operation itself is coming out. Early speculation is Miles’s father kept him out of the seedier side of the business until he found out about it. They’re saying he was always eager to please his old man and more or less took over—full throttle.” He let loose a long sigh. “Unfortunately, he’ll be spending eternity in the ground while his father rots in prison. And all for gold.”
Morgan snagged his hand. “I’ll never understand.”
He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “It’s hard to grasp. They certainly used Miles’s profession to their advantage. He and Robert kept patrol of the area by the mine. That’s why it stayed undetected for so long. It’s just unfortunate the team got mixed up in the whole mess.” He kissed her hair, hugged her close. “I’ll be forever grateful you get to come home with me.”
They pulled up in front of the police station, paid the cabbie. Her father opened the door to the noisy squad room and Morgan walked through. She stopped short of bumping into Hunter as he made his way out. Smiling, she touched his shoulder. “Hey, there you are.”
“How’s the arm?” He didn’t return her smile as he glanced from her to her father and back.
“Absolutely fine.” Puzzled by the distance radiating from him, she brushed her hand over the bandage. “It’s pretty much a scratch. Are you finished here?”
“Yeah. I’m actually on my way out. I have to get to the airport.”
Morgan’s smile vanished. What was going on? “You’re leaving right now? As in leaving for L.A?”
Hunter didn’t meet her gaze. “Ethan booked me a new flight that leaves in an hour. If I go now, I can just make it.”
Stanley stepped forward, stuck out his hand. “If you’re on your way, Hunter, I would like to thank you for everything. Ethan was absolutely correct. You were just the right man for my daughter. I don’t know how to repay you for getting her back to me.”
Hunter shook her father’s hand, stared at her. “Morgan did a fine job of taking care of herself. You’ve got a pretty tough daughter.”
“Well, son, thank you again. I’m going to talk to whoever’s in charge of this damn mess.” He walked off, leaving them alone.
Hunter glanced at his watch. “I really need to get to the airport.” He spoke as if they were little more than strangers, as if they hadn’t shared anything special. Her heart shattered.
“All right, I’ll walk out with you.”
“No, why don’t you stay in here. It’s getting dark.”
“I’ll walk you out.” She spun away, pushed through the doors, stepped into the warm evening. Clouds, brilliantly pink from the setting sun, decorated the sky. She stared into the beauty, unable to look at him, unable to say goodbye.
He stood on the step next to her. People brushed past, going in and out of the building. The taxi she just exited pulled up to the corner.
“That must be my cab.” Hunter signaled for the cabbie to wait. “The desk at the airport’s holding your stuff until you go back tonight. The items you left at the ranger’s station are there too.”
She faced him, searching. The sweet, funny man she’d shared so much with no longer existed. The stranger before her, cold and distant, wasn’t the man who’d made love to her until dawn. He wasn’t the person who’d laughed with her, who’d held her tight. With a slow, deep breath she asked the question she already had an answer to. “Is this it, Hunter?”
“Job’s up, Morgan. It’s time to go our separate ways.”
Her eyes filled. She turned her back to him. Blinking ruthlessly, hoping her voice wouldn’t betray her, she spoke. “There aren’t going to be any long weekends in L.A., are there?”
“No.”
Steeling herself, swallowing the sobs that threatened, Morgan turned, facing his ruthless stare.
“We got caught up in something that’ll never work. I’m fixing it for both of us. A clean break is better. Let’s not drag this out with a weekend here and a weekend there. I don’t know what I was thinking. You live in D.C. I live in L.A.” His gaze moved to the bandage on her arm before he met her eyes again.
She wanted to scream and rage, to tell him she loved him, that she would never want anyone but him, but she didn’t. There was no point. He didn’t want her. He didn’t love her. She cleared her throat. “If that’s the way you want it.”
“That’s the way I want it.”
Sick at heart, sick to her stomach, she nodded, held out her hand. She claimed her small victory when it didn’t tremble. “It was a pleasure doing business with you.”
Hunter grabbed her, pulling her close. “Don’t make it cheap, Morgan.”
“Aren’t you?” She released herself from his grip, looked into his blue eyes one last time, and walked back into the station.
Hunter stared at the door long after it closed. He took a step toward the station just as the cabbie honked. He walked down the sidewalk, hesitating, got in the cab, and headed for the airport.
This was the right thing.
He fisted his hand on the seat as her eyes flashed through his mind, shook his head, willing the image away, desperate to forget.
Minutes later, the cabbie pulled up to Departing Flights. Hunter paid, ran for his plane. He made it seconds before the flight attendant shut the door. The jet
taxied, took off, leaving the lights of Bozeman fading in the east. He looked down, one last time, knowing Morgan was still there.
This was the right thing. He’d done the right thing, he reminded himself again.
While he answered questions at the police station, the terrifying moments at the airport replayed over and over. It had been so close—too close. He’d almost been too late. One more second and… He couldn’t think of it.
He closed his eyes, brought back the image of his hand covered with blood. Morgan’s blood. If he thought too hard he saw the bright red drops dripping down her arm, could hardly stand it.
He glanced down at the sleeve of his shirt, at the specks of her dried blood, then back out the window into darkness. He’d failed again, almost lost her the way he lost Jake.
He’d been so caught up in his feelings, in his need for her, he’d lost his concentration. Plain and simple, he hadn’t done his job. If he would’ve worried more about checking in with Ethan and less about planning foolish cross-country visits, the whole nightmare would’ve been avoided.
Hunter jammed a hand through his hair as their last moments circled through his mind.
He’d hurt her.
He’d seen the tears in her eyes, her struggle to keep them from falling. He’d wanted to pull her close, one last time, to smell her hair, feel her body against his, to wrap his arms around her, but if he had, he wouldn’t have let her go. Saying goodbye had been the hardest thing he’d ever done.
He couldn’t stand leaving her behind, but he couldn’t deal with staying either, so he did what was best for both of them.
Despair, thick and heavy, left him weary. He rested his head against the seat, closed his eyes. Morgan smiled, her big green eyes brightening. Hunter sat up as if fighting his way through a nightmare.
Staring into the black, Hunter wondered if her smile, her eyes would always haunt him.
CHAPTER 32
HER FATHER EASED THE LEXUS to a stop in front of their massive home. Despite the late hour, lights blazed in every room. “It looks like your mother waited up for us, Peanut.”
Morgan mustered a smile. “Sure does. I can’t wait to see her.”
The police interviews and long flight home drained her. She’d replayed every detail of her three weeks in Montana for the officers. With each word, she remembered a look she’d shared with Hunter, a conversation, a touch, and her heart broke a little more.
While she sat alone, curled in a leather seat on her parents’ jet, she’d stared into the night, replaying her last moments with Hunter. What went wrong? What had she done to make him change his mind? What brought that cold, remote look into his eyes? How was she going to make it through the rest of her life knowing she would never see him again?
“Ready, honey?”
Her father jarred her from her thoughts. “What?”
“I said are you ready?”
“Oh, yes.” Morgan unbuckled herself. “Let’s go see Mom.”
Despite the warmth of the night, she shivered. Would she ever be warm again? Morgan climbed the dozen steps with her father by her side. She reached for the knob as his hand rested on her shoulder.
“Are you okay, honey?”
She steeled herself against the tenderness in his voice and his three simple words. Was she okay? No. She was anything but.
Gathering the last of her emotional reserves, she darted him a glance, just barely meeting his gaze, nodded. She swallowed against the tight ball in her throat. “Yes, Dad, I’m fine.”
God, she needed to get out of here, to get back to her own house. A quick hug for her mom, then she would go.
She stepped through the door, into the light of the grand entryway. Her mom shot up from an antique chair. “Oh, thank God.”
Morgan walked into her outstretched arms. The familiar scent of Chanel, the comfort of her mother’s soft hair against her cheek broke her completely. Unable to hold back any longer, a sob escaped her lips.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” her mom cooed close to her ear. Before Morgan could resist, her mother ushered her up the stairs, leaving her father sputtering behind.
Morgan lay on the pretty canopied bed, the one she’d slept in every night until she left for college, and cried as she never had before. The weight of helpless grief had grown too heavy, finally needing its release. Her mother lay beside her, brushing her fingers through her hair.
Her mother soothed with gentle words, reminding Morgan her friends were in a better place. Morgan realized her mom thought she cried over her ordeal in Yellowstone. She let her. It wasn’t important for anyone to know Hunter Phillips had shattered her heart.
Long after her mom left her alone, Morgan lay against the pale pink comforter, empty, devastated. A tear trailed down her cheek and she swiped it away, vowing it was the last tear he would ever get. There would be no more crying over Hunter.
Although it was well past eight, Morgan sat at her desk filling out paperwork. The halls were quiet, the other offices dark. Most of the staff, except for the cleaning crew, had long since left for the evening, but she wasn’t ready to go yet. When she stayed busy she didn’t have time to think.
The small print on the documents in front of her blurred. Morgan rubbed her tired eyes, knowing it was time to stop. She’d let herself into the office at dawn. After fifteen hours of meetings and paperwork, her mind was finally sluggish, her body exhausted.
Closing her eyes, she rested her head against the back of her chair, massaged her throbbing temples. Hunter’s grinning face flashed through her thoughts, sneaking past her wall of defense, bringing a fresh wave of pain.
With a defeated sigh, Morgan gathered a stack of files to lose herself in should sleep elude her—as it often did—and placed them in her briefcase. With her purse on her shoulder and her briefcase in hand, she locked up.
Instead of going to her empty house, she hopped the elevator, rode two floors to her father’s suite. The chrome door slid open and a smile of relief ghosted her mouth. Light blazed through his door. Morgan walked down the hall, stood in his doorway, watching him sign documents stacked in a tidy pile left by the ever-efficient Helen. She knocked, smiled when he looked up.
He frowned, concern shining bright in his eyes, before his features softened with understanding.
Morgan wanted to run to him, to snuggle against him and weep like she had as a child. There’d been a time when a gentle tug on her pigtails and a kiss on the forehead made everything better.
That wouldn’t solve anything now, and she would break the promise she’d made herself the night she’d returned from Montana.
Her father smiled, studying Morgan’s face. “Hi, Peanut. You’re still here.”
“I had some work to finish up.”
He continued to stare, nodded, as she circled around the desk to kiss his cheek. The bold red and black insignia of Ethan Cooke Security caught her eye. The itemized invoice covered two full pages. The grand total, typed in the box at the bottom, was insane.
Hunter had saved her life and broken her heart for the bargain price of forty-eight thousand dollars and change.
“I see the bill finally arrived.” She picked up the papers, and her dad snatched them back.
“Yes. The check will go out in the morning. Have a seat, Morgan. You look like you’ll fall on your face any minute.”
She sat in the leather chair in front of the desk. Her lack of sleep was catching up to her, leaving her feeling floaty from exhaustion. Fighting it, dismissing the weakness, she eyed the invoice, stared at her father. “I want to pay for everything myself.”
“Absolutely not. That isn’t necessary.”
“Please. It’s important to me.” After this she would owe Hunter nothing—all debts would be paid. In less than a month, he’d taken everything from her that mattered, but knowing she could do this for herself was an opportunity to start taking some of it back.
“Morgan, hiring Hunter was my decision. It’s my bill—and a big one at that.�
�
“I’ll use my trust fund.”
“You’re grandfather didn’t set it up—”
“Please don’t fight me on this.” A hint of desperation tinted her voice.
He blew out a long breath and relented. “All right, if it’s this important to you.” He handed her the bill.
“Thank you.” She tucked the papers into her purse.
“Have you given any more thought to the vacation I suggested? You haven’t been yourself lately.”
“I’m fine. I don’t need a vacation. There’s too much to do. I’ve been up to my eyeballs in paperwork since we’ve been back.” She didn’t need to rest. All she needed was her work. If she’d paid more attention to her job while in Yellowstone, she wouldn’t be where she was now.
“Exactly. Three weeks of nothing but paperwork is enough to make anyone go crazy, especially someone who spends most of their time in the field.”
“Things will change soon enough. I’m heading to L.A. next week to take Shelly’s position for the month, then I have the field assignment in Maine. We’re going to find that damn lynx if it’s the last thing I do.”
“Will you call Hunter while you’re in California?”
Morgan looked down, escaping her father’s questioning gaze. “No. I don’t know why I would. We had a business relationship. It’s over. I’ll send off the check and that will be the end of that.” God, she hoped so.
Late that night, as she sat in her silky pajamas by the soft light of her lamp, Morgan tore up another sheet of paper, threw it in the wastebasket. Why couldn’t she find the words? Draft after draft of the note she wanted to send with Hunter’s portion of the bill were all wrong. This was her last chance to say goodbye. She desperately needed the closure. Perhaps that was why she had nothing to say. How could she say goodbye when all she wanted to shout was ‘I love you’?