Hometown Girl

by Margaret Watson

  “I don’t need an ambulance,” Claire said, her teeth chattering. When had she gotten so cold? “I’m fine except for my arm.”

  Before Seth could answer, she heard doors slam on another vehicle. “Aunt Claire! Aunt Claire!”

  Nick ran toward her at full speed. He skidded to a stop a foot away from her. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” she said, managing a shaky smile.

  “We could see what was happening,” Nick said, his voice wavering and his mouth trembling. “We knew we couldn’t get here in time. I was so scared.”

  “Oh, Nick.” Claire dropped her injured arm and pulled Nick to her with her good arm. “I’m so glad you’re here. Thank you for coming to rescue me.”

  Nick wrapped his arms around her and held on tightly. Her arm screamed with pain, but she gritted her teeth. When Nick buried his face in her neck, she felt the hot burn of tears against her skin.

  Clutching him to her, she held on fiercely, both comforting him and drawing comfort for herself.

  After a moment Nick wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his jacket. “You were awesome, Aunt Claire,” he said in a shaky voice. “We saw you kick that guy over the edge.”

  “We?” Her nephew’s presence so far out of town registered. “How did you get here, Nick?”

  She looked behind him and saw Tucker standing several feet away, his gaze devouring her. “Tucker?”

  “Yeah, Coach brought me,” Nick said.

  She hardly heard her nephew as she ran toward Tucker. He folded her into his embrace, being careful not to jostle her injured arm. “My God, Claire,” he whispered into her ear. “My God.”

  When he fastened his mouth to hers, she tasted his fear, his panic, his desperation. She closed her eyes and murmured his name, clinging to him.

  Finally, he stepped back and tore his mouth away from hers. “Did he hurt you?” Cold rage chilled his eyes. “Besides your arm?”

  “No,” she said. “He didn’t do anything else to me.”

  He looked down at her arm, hanging at her side, and ripped off his shirt. He used it to form a makeshift sling. The soft flannel cradled her arm and enfolded her in his scent.

  “Let’s get an ambulance out here.”

  “I don’t need an ambulance,” she said, her teeth chattering. “It’s just my arm.”

  “Like hell you don’t need an ambulance.” He scowled at her. “Once, just once, let someone take care of you.”

  “You can take care of me,” she said. Her voice broke. “I just want you and Nick. Please.” She turned around and used her good arm to pull Nick close.

  She felt Tucker behind her, smoothing his hand over her hair. “Nick is the one who realized you were missing,” he said. “He’s the one who went to the police.” He bent and pressed a kiss into her hair. “Nick and I will take you to the hospital.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “You and Nick.”

  “In just a moment,” he said, moving away from her. “I have one more thing to do here.”

  She wanted to grab him, to hold him and never let him go. But he was already gone.

  He waited until the chief pulled Derek over the guardrail and cuffed his hands behind his back. Then Tucker curled his hand into a fist and drew it back. But instead of punching Joiner, he let his hand drop.

  “I want to hit you, Joiner,” he said, his voice soft. “I want it real bad. But it might upset Claire,” he said as Derek cowered away from him. “You can thank her for saving your ass.” He spit on the ground, then turned and walked away.

  Tucker hurried back to where Claire stood with her good arm around Nick. He held on to her tightly, clinging to her like a frightened child.

  “Let’s get going, Nick,” Tucker said, urging them toward his truck. “We need to get your aunt to a hospital.”

  IT WAS EXACTLY twenty-seven steps from one end of the emergency room waiting area to the other. Tucker stopped for a glass of water, then started back in the other direction. Nick sat in a chair with a copy of an old newsmagazine, but Tucker noticed he’d been reading the same page for a long time.

  The doctor had let them stay with Claire while he examined her arm and gave her a shot of medication for the pain. When they brought in the mobile X-ray machine and diagnosed a fracture, Nick and Tucker were banished to the waiting room.

  Tucker was ready to tear down a wall to get to Claire, but he looked at Nick and forced himself to calm down. The kid was upset enough already. He didn’t need Tucker making a scene in the hospital.

  After what seemed like years the door swung open and a nurse wheeled Claire out in a wheelchair. Her face was pasty white and her eyes were hollow. Her arm, enclosed in a bright green cast, rested in a sling. She clutched his shirt, the one he’d used for a temporary sling, in her other hand.

  Nick jumped off the chair and ran over to his aunt. He reached out and touched her cast with a tentative finger. “Cool cast, Aunt Claire.”

  “You like it?” She managed a smile. “I wanted to go with the fluorescent pink, but the nurse convinced me it would clash with my hair.”

  Nick shoved his hands into his pockets. “You okay?”

  “I’m a little sore, but otherwise I’m fine,” she said, squeezing his arm with her good hand. She looked past Nick, found Tucker. She gave him a shaky smile. “Thanks for bringing me here, and waiting for me.”

  “Try keeping me away,” he said quietly. He never wanted her out of his sight again. His throat tightened as he thought about what could have happened, how he might have lost the chance to tell her how he felt.

  “Come on,” he said, his voice gruff. “Let’s get you home.”

  As they pulled into Claire’s driveway, he saw a crowd of people on her front porch.

  Claire straightened. “What’s going on?”

  Before he could get her out of the truck, the people poured off the porch and headed for the truck. Judy Johnson opened the door.

  “Claire! How are you feeling?”

  Claire stared at Judy, then looked past her at the crowd of people behind her. “I’m okay,” she said, staring at the faces. “What are you doing here?”

  “We heard what happened. Everyone wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  Tucker saw that most of the parents from the football team were there, as well as Molly Burns and her daughter and the neighbors from the houses around Claire’s. Most of them held a dish in their hands.

  “We heard you broke your arm.” Judy gestured to the people behind her. “It’s going to be hard to cook for a while, so we figured you could use some help.”

  Claire stared at the crowd, apparently speechless. Finally she slid out of the truck and awkwardly embraced Judy. “Thank you,” she whispered. She stepped away from Judy and looked from one face to another.

  “How can I thank you all?” she asked. “This is…this is overwhelming.”

  “No thanks necessary,” one of the mothers said. “You’ll bring a dish next time someone is sick.”

  Molly Burns embraced her. “We’re all neighbors,” she said. “Neighbors take care of each other.”

  Claire sniffled as she clung to Molly. “Thank you.” She swallowed hard. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You’ll be saying plenty when you’re eating lasagna for the tenth time in the next two weeks,” someone joked.

  Tucker came around the truck and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. When she leaned into him, his arm tightened and he drew her closer.

  Judy stepped forward and addressed the crowd. “Why don’t you bring your dishes in the house, and Molly and I will make sure they get put away. Claire looks like she needs to sit down.”

  Tucker glanced down at her face. It was pinched and white, and she had dark circles under her eyes. He scooped her up into his arms and headed toward the front door.

  “She’s a little wobbly,” he told the crowd as he wove through them. Fear clutched at him when she closed her eyes and laid her head on his shoulder. “I think
it’s the pain medication.” He hoped it was nothing more than the pain medication. He wanted his feisty Claire back.

  He set her down on the couch, then crouched in front of her as a stream of people walked through into the kitchen. “What can I get you?” he asked in a low voice.

  “Nothing,” she said, groping for his hand without opening her eyes. “Can you stay for a while?”

  “You couldn’t blast me out of here with a stick of dynamite,” he told her.

  “Thanks, Tucker,” she said, leaning her head against the back of the couch.

  He wanted to snatch her close, to hold her so tightly that she’d become part of him. Instead he eased himself onto the couch and gently pulled her close. She nestled into his side as people began to leave. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Nick standing off to the side, talking to Caitlyn Burns. The kid’s face was bright red, but his eyes were shining. Tucker relaxed a little. Some things, at least, were back to normal.

  After everyone had left, including Molly Burns and a reluctant Caitlyn, Judy Johnson came out of the kitchen. “Hey, guys, how about if I pick you up a pizza?”

  Nick looked up from where he was talking to Booger. “That would be awesome.” He gave Claire a guilty look. “If that’s okay with you, Aunt Claire?”

  “That’s fine,” she said without opening her eyes.

  “Nick, why don’t you come with me and Booger to get the pizza?” She shot Tucker a significant look. “Your aunt could probably use a few minutes to herself.”

  “Sure,” Nick said. Moments later, Nick and the Johnsons left and silence settled on the house.

  Claire opened her eyes. “I need to talk to you, Tucker.”

  His gut clenched. “Yeah, I need to talk to you, too.” He jumped off the couch. “Let me get you a glass of water first. You’re supposed to take a pain pill.”

  When he came back into the living room a few minutes later, Claire was asleep. Tucker stared down at her. He wanted to talk to her, needed to tell her how he felt. Apologies, pleas for forgiveness, explanations crowded his throat. But he wouldn’t wake her up to satisfy his need for confession.

  Gently lifting her into his arms, he carried her up the stairs and into the bedroom. When he’d removed enough of her clothing so she’d be comfortable, he sat down in the chair next to her bed and watched her sleep.

  He wouldn’t wake her up. But he wouldn’t leave her alone, either.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “AUNT CLAIRE?”

  Claire struggled to clear away the cotton around her brain. Opening her eyes with an effort, she saw Nick standing in the doorway of her room.

  Her nephew cleared his throat. “How are you feeling?”

  How was she feeling? Why would Nick ask her that?

  Claire struggled to sit up and smacked herself with a cast. She looked down at her arm, confused. Then the events of the day before slid into her memory.

  Joiner. Andrea Vernon. Her arm.

  Tucker and Nick racing to her rescue.

  She clutched the blanket and looked around the room, happiness blossoming inside her. Last night, Tucker said he would stay with her.

  He was nowhere in sight.

  She swung her legs onto the floor. Her arm screamed in protest, but the pain in her heart was far worse.

  “Aunt Claire?” Nick’s forehead creased with a worried frown. “Are you all right?”

  “My arm is a little sore,” she told him. Her smile wobbled. “And banging myself with this cast didn’t help.”

  Nick relaxed. “Coach said I should make you breakfast in bed.”

  “He did?” She straightened, wild hope coursing through her.

  Nick nodded. “He left a couple of hours ago.” Nick paused and his chest seemed to swell. “He said I’d take good care of you. So, do you want breakfast in bed?”

  “I’d rather come downstairs,” she said. “Was Tucker here all night?”

  “Yeah.” Nick gave her an uncertain look. “I told him I’d stay with you, but he said that I needed to get some sleep so I could take care of you today.”

  Disappointment that he hadn’t stayed sliced through her. She told herself he’d needed to get some sleep, but her throat swelled with tears as she blindly reached for her robe.

  “Is it okay that I let him stay all night?” Nick asked, uncertainty in his voice.

  “Of course, Nick,” she answered, hugging him. Instead of pulling away, he gave her a fierce hug in return.

  “I, ah, thought it would be okay. Since you kissed him and everything.” Nick’s face turned red.

  His words pinched her heart. “You did just the right thing,” she managed to say.

  As they headed downstairs, Nick chattered about the many people who’d called to check on her. Then his face turned red again. “Mrs. Burns and Caitlyn came by. She said they’d come back later.”

  “That was thoughtful of Molly.” She remembered seeing Nick talking to Caitlyn the day before. “Maybe you can help me straighten up the house before they come back.”

  “Sure.”

  Nick sat at the table and watched her as she ate, jumping up to refill her coffee whenever she took a sip. Clearly Tucker had told him exactly what to do to help her. Her heart swelled with love for both the men in her life.

  “Thanks, Nick,” she said, reaching for his hand. “You’re pampering me.” Who would have thought, a couple of months ago, that Nick making her breakfast would make her feel as if she’d won the lottery.

  Nick shrugged, but his eyes lit up. “Coach and me talked about what you’d need. He helped me make the coffee.” He shot her a sidelong glance. “He said he figured you’d need coffee this morning.”

  “I guess he knows me pretty well,” she said, giving Nick a smile as her eyes filled with tears. Tucker knew Nick pretty well, too. He knew her nephew needed to feel useful, needed to take care of her.

  The doorbell rang and her pulse quickened. Was it Tucker?

  Moments later, Seth Broderick walked into the kitchen. Claire forced down the disappointment.

  “Good morning, Seth,” she said.

  He took her hand, studied her. “Hey, Claire. How are you feeling this morning?”

  “Sore but very lucky,” she said. “I’m glad you got there when you did.”

  The police chief smiled. “It looked like you had things under control.”

  He dragged the chair closer to the table, fixed her with his penetrating gaze. “Do you feel up to giving me your statement?”

  For the next half hour, she described what happened the day before. After she finished, he began asking questions, writing her answers in a notebook.

  “That should do it,” Seth said, snapping shut his notebook. “I’ll call if I have any other questions. And I’ll have this typed up and bring it by to have you sign it.”

  He leaned forward, watching her steadily. “Derek Joiner is in the county lockup. He’s saying that you misunderstood him, that he only wanted to visit the place Janice died because he missed her and knew you missed her, too.” He snorted. “He’s not nearly as smart as he thinks he is. Fred Denton is singing at the top of his lungs, and when he’s finished, we’ll have more than enough to convict Joiner of your sister’s murder. And his kidnapping and attempted murder of you.”

  Claire searched Seth’s eyes. “Did Fred Denton help kill Janice?”

  “Hard to say,” Seth answered. “I don’t think so, but we’re still talking to him.” His mouth hardened. “Even if he didn’t kill her, I suspect he knew that Joiner had. He’s in trouble, too, Claire.”

  She looked away. She’d thought she would enjoy seeing Fred Denton shamed and humiliated, but the taste of satisfaction was bitter on her tongue. “You were right, you know,” she said. “Monroe is different now. Or maybe I am. I don’t need to see Fred punished for what he did in the past.”

  “The past has nothing to do with it,” Seth answered. “He conspired to cheat the citizens of Monroe out of the tax revenue they’d
get if a shopping center was built. I think Denton’s days as mayor are over.”

  “What about Andrea?” Claire asked. “Is she all right?” The memory of the bruises on Andrea’s face was still vivid in Claire’s mind.

  Seth smiled. “Andrea is in the domestic abuse shelter. Joiner is the one who punched her in the face yesterday, but Andrea has agreed to press charges against Vernon for his past abuse.” He took her hand. “Thank you for reaching out to her,” he said quietly. “My officer said you’d told Andrea about your experiences with Vernon. That took a lot of courage.”

  “I’ve made some bad decisions when it comes to men,” she said. “I hope Andrea makes better ones.”

  “You’ve given her a chance,” Seth answered. He looked up and smiled as Nick came into the room. “This kid of yours did all the right things yesterday. He realized you were missing and raised the alarm. You should be proud of him.”

  Claire looked up at Nick, squeezed his arm. “I am proud of him. This kid of mine is something special.”

  Nick rolled his eyes and Seth grinned. “I hope you don’t let her talk like that in front of the other guys on the football team.”

  “Nah,” Nick said, to Claire’s surprise. “Aunt Claire is pretty cool.”

  Claire stood up and hugged her nephew, and Nick hugged her back. Then, clearing his throat, he left the room in a hurry. Her gaze lingered on him as he disappeared.

  “Call me if you need anything,” Seth said.

  “Thanks for coming by,” she answered. “I was going to come down to the station later.”

  “I wouldn’t make you do that. We take care of people here in Monroe,” he said quietly.

  She watched him leave, then waited by the window, hoping to see Tucker’s truck appear. Finally she turned away, disgusted with herself.

  “He said he wasn’t going anywhere,” she reminded herself. “He’ll be back.”

  She hoped. Nothing had really changed between them since she’d walked away from him. Last night he’d told her he’d stay, but she’d been injured and afraid. She couldn’t hold him to a promise made under those circumstances.