Midnight Hero

by Diana Duncan

  He’d just as bluntly reminded Dr. Chambers that her daughter was an adult. And what Bailey did with her life, and who she spent time with, was her decision.

  Bailey was her own woman, but even the toughest barricade eventually collapsed under relentless pressure. He was in for serious damage containment. He leaned back and crossed his arms. “My brothers have pointed out I’m far from perfect, many times. I’m open to new ideas. Go ahead. Let’s hear all my faults.”

  She shook her head. “There’s nothing wrong with you. Nothing wrong with me. We’re both good people. We simply aren’t right for each other. I’m not trying to hurt you, just trying to explain. We’re too different. There’s no need to hash out—”

  “There’s every need.”

  “All right.” She paused. “You’re quick and decisive, I’m deliberate. You kick down doors and nail bad guys to the wall, I sell books and visit sick kids in hospitals.”

  “So, we have some differences. Enough differences to clash—in a positive way—and enough similarities to click. We complement one another.”

  “We don’t have any similarities.”

  “Don’t we?” He smiled at her. “We’re both intense. Both dedicated to our jobs. Loyal to our loved ones. We care about people and their welfare. You educate, enlighten and entertain them, I protect them.” He grew serious, leaned forward. “Most importantly, we love each other.”

  She hesitated. “Where do you see us in five years?”

  He held her gaze, his thoughts tender. Five years? He could see them in fifty-five years. “Married. Happy.”

  She gulped and looked down at their uneaten food, breaking the connection. “Where do we live? How many kids do we have? Are you still in the same job? Am I? What kind of shape are we in financially? What are our interests, who are our friends?”

  He’d known her propensity for planning, but this was overkill. And smelled like more of Ellen Chambers’s influence. “Darlin’ there are unanswerable questions in life. Some things can’t be scheduled. Sometimes it’s better to keep things simple. Ad-lib.”

  “It’s not. The only way to be secure, have peace of mind, is to be organized and prepared. Keep things under control.”

  “Life isn’t in our control. Crap happens. You deal with it.” He shrugged. “We’ll handle whatever comes, as it comes. Together.”

  “You can’t know that. We’ve only been dating six months.”

  He used his index finger to tip up her chin until her gaze again met his. “I fell in love with you in six seconds.”

  Stark misery shadowed her blue eyes. But there was no mistaking the resolve in her gaze. His gut clenched. For the first time since she’d ambushed him with the breakup, he questioned his ability to assault-and-rescue her doubts. He squared his shoulders. He never accepted defeat. On any level.

  Tears pooled in her eyes. “Sometimes love isn’t enough. It boils down to who we are. You shake hands with violence and death on a daily basis. I don’t understand violence, can’t be a part of it.” She gave him a sad, tremulous smile. “I can’t even kill the mice that get into the storage room at the shop, even though they chew the books. I use humane traps and let them go.”

  Trap and release didn’t work with criminals. He’d arrested too many perps already on parole for prior crimes. The minute the vermin got out, they crawled right back into your house. But his sensitive girl wouldn’t buy that—she was determined to see the best in everyone. He shrugged. “I don’t have a problem with humane mousetraps.”

  “This isn’t about mice, and you know it. It’s your job.”

  “Why now? You’ve known what I do since our first date.”

  “And lived in denial. Knowing and seeing are two very different things. The morning news forced me to face it.”

  Understanding dawned. “Ah. Well, you know the media maggots. They always blow everything out of proportion. Sensationalize every detail. Juice it up to increase ratings.”

  “I saw the raging fire and the SWAT team dodging exploding gunshots. Saw the burnt-out meth lab your team was called up to serve a high-risk warrant on. Saw the medical examiners carrying out body bags.” Tears streaked her face with crystal rivers of sorrow. “Four body bags. Three suspects and one SWAT officer.” Her voice broke. “They didn’t say who the officer was.”

  He cradled her hand in his. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I had no idea they broadcast that. The casualty was from another team. I was going to call you this morning as soon as I was sure you were awake and let you know I was okay. You called me instead.”

  Her fingers trembled in his grasp. “You can’t help wanting to be first in line to catch bullets between your teeth. You can’t help being a hero, because that’s what you are. Who you are. And I’d never ask you to give it up. Ever.”

  “I’m no hero.” Ice slinked up his spine. This was no mere case of commitment jitters. The survival of their relationship was in serious jeopardy. “I’m just doing my damn job.”

  “Accountants are just doing their jobs. Shoe salesmen are just doing their jobs. You’re risking your life every minute. My father was a hero, and he came home in a body bag. After what that did to my mother, to me, I can’t go through it again.” Her entire body was shaking violently.

  He studied her stricken face. The decision was tearing her apart. If she really wanted to break off with him, she wouldn’t be so heartbroken. “You can’t seriously tell me this is what you really want.”

  “What I want doesn’t matter. I can’t make this choice with my heart. I have to make it with my head.”

  “The only way to make this choice is with your heart.”

  “No. I have to do what’s best. For your sake.”

  Bewilderment snaked through him. “What does that mean?”

  “I’m not the kind of woman you need. Or deserve. I don’t have the strength to support you.” She was openly crying now. “I’ve seen the consequences. With my parents.”

  “We are not our parents.” He cupped her face. Hot, wet tears dripped onto his hand, making his throat ache. “Bailey, listen. You’re exactly the kind of woman I need. You’re the only woman I want. We can work this out.”

  “We can’t. I was drawn to your vitality, your heat—tempted to dance too close to the fire. I’m more like my father than I thought. My mother warned him, and he didn’t listen. He died. She might as well have, too, and I refuse to end up like her.”

  “You need some space. I respect that. We’ll spend time together and work it out. We won’t get physical. No pressure.”

  “Con, the more we’re together, the closer we get, and the harder it will be to end it. I’m just not cut out for your brand of adventure.”

  “Life is an adventure, darlin’.”

  “Not my life. I like my life steady. Predictable. Safe. No matter how much attraction sizzles between us, no matter how much I…I c-care about you—” She choked and blew her nose on a paper napkin. “In the end, my fears will destroy you.”

  “You’re upset, understandably so.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Last night was an ugly business. On TV, the incident probably looked scary and chaotic, but my team had everything under control. Once you get used to it—”

  She shuddered. “A daily dose of violence and death, and you grow immune? I could never get used to it. I refuse.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I could never do what you do.”

  “Nobody expects you to.” Frustrated, he scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Let’s go somewhere private and I’ll explain—”

  “I’m sorry, I’m simply not brave enough.” She tugged her hand from his and grabbed her purse. “No matter how thrilling the ride, I won’t buy a ticket on a runaway train to heartbreak.”

  “Bailey—”

  She leaped to her feet. “Goodbye, Con.” Sobbing, she fled.

  Con sat unmoving in the tomb-silent booth, as stunned and shaken as if a flash-bang grenade had exploded in his face. What the hell
had just happened? He’d walked in pumped to ask Bailey to marry him. And here he sat. Alone.

  She’d left her coat on the seat when they’d switched places, and then run out without it. He picked it up and buried his nose in the soft beige wool. Like the woman, the disparate scents of rose petals and peppermint mingled into an intriguing combination. Soft and sweet, yet fresh and invigorating.

  The world went gray. For a few moments he thought the lights had gone out, then realized the clouds outside were massing overhead. The sky darkened, until morning looked like midnight. Then again, maybe it was the haze over his vision.

  What was he supposed to do now? He’d unblinkingly faced down gangbangers bearing Uzis. Been stabbed in the forearm by a crazed crack addict during a raid and kept shooting. Rappelled out of a chopper without hesitation into a line of gunfire so heavy the smoke obliterated his sight. In five years on the force, he’d never frozen in the line of duty. But none of his combat training had prepared him for a direct assault on his heart.

  A cold shot to the heart hurt more than he’d ever imagined.

  Fighting the urge to run inside and snatch back her fateful words, Bailey choked back sobs as she drove out of the parking lot. Con wasn’t the type to surrender. He’d come charging out the diner’s doorway any minute, determined to batter down her barricades. She had to get away. Before he got her alone and her resolve crumbled under the hurt in his beautiful brown eyes. Wounds she’d inflicted.

  Trembling all over, she resisted the need to look back as the diner shrank in her rearview mirror. To watch her future fade along with the place that held so many happy memories. Streaming tears blurred her vision. Driving in this condition was as dangerous as driving drunk.

  She pulled into Riverbend Park. Twisted branches formed a skeletal canopy overhead. A fountain in the park’s center spewed icy cascades into the air. The park was deserted, the fountain lonely. As cold and empty as her soul. She shivered under the morning’s damp bite. She’d accidentally left her coat in the diner, but there was no going back. Not now. Tears flooded her eyes and she swiped them away. The coat was the least valuable thing she’d left behind.

  This was the second-worst day of her life. Only her father’s funeral had been more painful. Her chest hurt, and misery churned in her stomach. Bailey clutched the wheel so hard her hands ached. She wanted to cling as tightly to Con as she was to the steering wheel. She never wanted to hurt him in any way.

  Which is why she had to leave him.

  She watched the fountain and prayed for peace. The rushing water created miniature waterfalls, which brought to mind her and Con’s first real date. When he discovered she loved bird-watching and being near the water, he’d asked her to hike the waterfall trail in the Columbia River Gorge. On a gorgeous summer day in July, they had walked the circular trail through the green woods, stopping at five waterfalls scattered along the loop.

  Thrilled to her toes, she’d stood hand in hand with him on a bluff over a shimmering waterfall as they’d watched a pair of bald eagles wheeling and dipping over the shining water.

  Afterward, they ate on an outdoor deck at an inn overlooking the river. Sun glinted off the choppy waves, and the breeze tousled her curls. Con reached out and brushed a strand of hair off her cheek, and the high-voltage connection that arced between them shook them both. Breathless, she turned her head and watched the dozens of windsurfers on the river. Their sailboards danced across the waves like bright butterflies.

  Con asked if she wanted to windsurf. She declined. But she couldn’t hold out against his enthusiasm, and five minutes later, found herself in the inn’s gift shop renting a wetsuit. Con had been windsurfing the day before and still had his board and wetsuit in the back of his truck. They spent a sparkling afternoon on the river. Con’s warm, solid body behind her, his protective stance around her as he steadied her on the board felt so right. Like she belonged in his arms.

  A patient tutor, he good-naturedly hauled them both out of the water when she repeatedly overbalanced and upended them. She laughed more that day than she had in a lifetime.

  When they returned her wetsuit, they bought ice cream stacked inside waffle cones. Peppermint for her, huckleberry for him. Con noticed her admiring glance snag on a tiny silver hummingbird charm in the gift shop, and insisted on buying it for her. They drove home engrossed in conversation.

  At her door, she’d longed for him to kiss her. Instead, he’d tugged a lock of her hair and flashed his mischievous grin. The sexy cop’s killer grin should be a felony. It sure assassinated all her inhibitions. He’d extracted a promise from her to have dinner with him that weekend, then sauntered to his truck.

  Intoxicated by happiness, she’d waltzed into her apartment with a sun-kissed complexion and soaring spirits. Her sense of wonder and rightness had confirmed their initial whammo attraction. The connection wasn’t merely chemistry.

  It was destiny.

  An hour after Con left, her mom had dropped by and delivered a stern lecture about skin cancer from sun exposure and the dangers of windsurfing, along with a dire warning about risk-taking men. Bailey had let her mother voice her worries, while silently holding her own joy close to her heart.

  Outside, the wind howled, rocking the car in its frigid teeth, as if trying to tear away her warm memories. Her mom used to be different. Her parents had started out happy. Bailey remembered sunny, laughter-filled family outings. Affectionate glances between her mom and dad. Loving embraces. As time had passed though, the silences lengthened and grew cold. Angry words screamed in the darkness as she huddled, scared and shaking, in her bed.

  She’d been too young to understand what the fights were about, or why her mom wanted her dad to quit his job. How could he? When his job was such an important part of him. A firefighter. A brave knight in Nomex armor who battled fire-breathing dragons and rescued the innocent. A hero.

  When Bailey was fourteen, he’d died being a hero.

  Her mom had frozen into a glacier. She’d grown overprotective, smothering her daughter. Bailey hadn’t had the heart to fight her after the trauma they’d suffered. In self-defense, she’d retreated more deeply into her beloved books, becoming subdued and withdrawn.

  The wind howled louder. A pinecone slammed into the windshield, and Bailey crashed back to the present. Nothing lasted forever. Carefree summer days were over. Summer was dead and winter’s cold fingers held the world in an icy grip.

  She clutched the hummingbird charm. She couldn’t suppress her fears and be the wife Con needed. She’d make him unhappy. Bitter. They’d both be unhappy. She was a Pisces, a water sign. Con was as bright and hot and appealing to her quiet nature as the fire sign that marked his birth date. Aries, the god of war.

  In the end, water would quench the fire. Leaving ashes.

  Giving in to sorrow, she sobbed out her heartbreak. In the end, love wasn’t enough. Yet love would give her the strength to do what she must. She loved Con too much to destroy him.

  She had to let him go.

  Chapter 2

  12:00 p.m.

  For a woman who’d suffered an emotional meltdown, Bailey put on a pretty good front. She turned from the refreshment bar in the reading corner of Bookworm’s bookstore carrying a bag holding three warm chocolate chip cookies. Today, the sweet smell made her stomach churn. “Here you go, Nan. Anything else?”

  Nan Thompson’s green eyes sparkled as she patted her distended abdomen. “I’d like a baby to go, please.” The young brunette giggled. “The ultrasound said it was a boy and it must be right. Men are perpetually late. He’s probably in there refusing to ask for directions.”

  Bailey’s heart contracted. Con had never once been late. Con. The man she’d left dazed and wounded. Thinking of him hurt so badly she could barely breathe. So much for a pretty good front. “You should be home, resting.” Nan had insisted on staying in her position at the mall’s bank right up to her due date. “I’m surprised the bank manager hasn’t booted you out, for fear you
’ll have that baby in the lobby.”

  “He’s already griping about my maternity leave.”

  Bailey lowered her head to hide her roiling emotions. “Seems bosses are all the same.”

  “Seems like.” Nan’s sharp gaze fastened on Bailey’s face. After years of lunchtime heart-to-hearts, Bailey’s shaky facade probably hadn’t fooled her friend. She’d done her best to repair the wreckage, but she wasn’t a pretty crier. No surprise considering how splintered and torn she was inside.

  Nan frowned. “Is that what’s bothering you? Mole Man up to his usual tricks?”

  Bailey focused on Nan’s watermelon shape. Big mistake. She’d dreamed about some day having Con’s children. Had pictured them cradled in her arms. Long-lashed, starry brown eyes and irresistible smiles, just like their daddy. That wouldn’t happen now. Another woman would carry Con’s babies. Scalding air jammed her lungs. She fumbled for a cup of water and tried to douse the anguish with icy liquid. It didn’t work. “I’m fine.”

  Nan’s voice gentled. “You’re anything but fine. Business is dead-slow today.” She patted an overstuffed navy chair in the cozy reading nook. “Did you decide to leave us and take that other job after all?”

  Business was slow. A combination of New Year’s Eve and the nasty weather forecast. Too much time to think. To remember. Bailey couldn’t get Con’s bewildered face out of her mind. His devastated brown eyes. The hurt bracketing his mouth. Pain lanced through her. She couldn’t bear to think about him. Or talk about him without losing it completely. “I can’t discuss it. Not now.”

  “Okay but—” Nan’s eyes widened. “Yikes! Monster spider!” She grabbed a newspaper, rapidly rolled it and raised the weapon.