by Lori Ryan
Cade looked surprised, then nodded his head. He gestured toward the corner that stood beneath the location of the kitchenette on the second floor. “We could put a bathroom in down here for him. I can see if the Hart brothers would put in a few weekends for us.”
The Hart brothers had bought up a few properties in town last year when May Bishop had nudged them in that direction. The four of them had been at loose ends, wreaking all the havoc they could, for as long as they could manage. May had helped give them some direction. She’d also funded their initial purchases. It was one of the projects in town where she’d gone straight to the person and offered money rather than setting up an anonymous grant.
The brothers would do anything May needed of them, and more, without question.
“Not a bad idea,” Shane said.
“Just don’t mention anything to Laura yet. She’s too terrified to hope.”
“I don’t blame her.” He looked over at Cade, throwing a glare in his direction. “And, really, give me more credit. I’ve got a little more sense than that with women.”
Cade let out a snort, not remotely trying to hide it. “Please. If you had more sense with women, you wouldn’t be out here in the middle of the night.”
“What makes you think this has anything to do with a woman?”
Cade laughed, waving at Shane to follow him as he headed for the staircase against the west wall that led to the loft.
They settled in at the small counter at the kitchenette and Cade pulled two beers from the mini-fridge.
“Laura said you finally asked Phoebe out, that everything was all good.”
It didn’t surprise Shane that Cade knew his business. This was Evers. Everyone knew everyone’s business. It probably hadn’t gotten around town yet that she’d dumped him before things had ever gotten the chance to go anywhere, but give it another day. Or another hour.
“Yeah, well, I took her out twice and she ended things. I guess she didn’t have a good time.”
Cade flinched. “Ouch. I’m sorry.”
Shane shrugged. He should have known things wouldn’t work with Phoebe. He was made for the Sweater Set ladies.
Boring. Responsible. Jesus, he practically put himself to sleep just thinking about his life.
Phoebe was used to dating guys who rode bikes and got tattoos and knew how to be spontaneous. What the hell would she want with a guy who used spread sheets and pie charts for all major life choices?
37
Dear God, there are days I find your sense of humor lacking.
Fiona O’Malley’s Journal
Phoebe opened her apartment door and hung her purse on the closet doorknob, balancing a bag of leftovers from her dinner. She shuffled through the mail and went to the kitchen to set the bills on the counter and toss the junk into recycling.
“Oh.” Phoebe sighed. The refrigerator was filled with leftover take out containers. She really needed to be better about bringing those for her lunch at work. It was ridiculous to be wasting so much food, never mind so much of her paycheck.
She shuffled a few of the containers, set two of the older ones into the sink to rinse and recycle later, and put the new package on the middle shelf.
She’d gone for drinks with Katelyn and Ashley after work. Drinks had turned into dinner, but then they’d started talking about Fiona’s death. The medical examiner’s findings and the fact Garret had questioned Elliot was all over town. Phoebe realized she had Fiona’s journal and hadn’t even thought to give it to the police when Shane first told her about the possibility of the suicide being staged. She’d never looked at the dates at the end of the journal, but with the way it spanned so many years, she wouldn’t be surprised if there were recent entries in it.
She walked to the bedroom to grab the book. Ashley had said Garret would be working all night tonight if Phoebe wanted to call and have him pick the journal up. She thought she might take it over to him, instead, though. It was early still, and she didn’t mind bringing it by.
Phoebe stopped and stared at the space on her bedside table where the journal had been that morning. The journal was gone.
She looked through the rumpled comforter on her bed. Even in the dead of summer, she slept with a thick comforter over her top sheet. By the morning, she’d always kicked it into a ball at the foot of the bed, but she liked going to sleep with it.
When the journal didn’t fall from any of the folds, she bent and pulled up the bed skirt to look under the bed. With one hand, she swept beneath it, wondering how much dust she was disturbing with her search.
A floorboard creaked behind her, and the race of adrenaline hit her body before she had even processed that she’d heard the sound. There was nothing more than a blur in her peripheral vision before the blow came. Phoebe flew forward, reeling.
She put her hand to her head and began to roll, ready to ward off the blow and fight back, but she stumbled forward, the world pitching.
One hand reached for the bedside table as she was thrown forward by the force of another blow, her head striking the table instead of steadying herself on it.
Nausea swept her as the world faded to darkness.
38
With love comes the realization you would gladly give your life for another.
Fiona O’Malley’s Journal
Shane stopped at the intersection between his house and Phoebe’s apartment. If he turned left, he could be at her place in just a few blocks. If he turned right, he’d be home in about the same distance.
Home and alone, wishing he were with her. Wishing he’d tried harder.
He gripped the steering wheel and turned left.
What the hell had he been thinking? He’d let her walk away from him without even putting up a fight. He’d let her think he didn’t believe she was worth fighting for. Let her think he was willing to walk away without knowing why. Without telling her how much he thought they had a shot at something real.
Maybe she wouldn’t care. Maybe she wasn’t feeling what he was. But he at least had to try.
His first glimpse of the flames didn’t come until he was halfway up her driveway, and at first, he thought he was imagining it.
He wasn’t.
Smoke poured from the bottom of her door and flames licked up the window of her living room.
Shane broke into a run and took the stairs in a few leaps that should have left him with a broken neck.
He let out a string of curses as the metal of her doorknob burned his hand. Her door was too damned hot.
Shane flew back down the stairs and pulled his cell phone from his pocket.
“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”
He wasn’t sure he was entirely coherent but he reported the fire, gave her address and dropped the phone, breaking into a run around the back of the building.
The back of the apartment held a narrow set of stairs leading to a small back porch and door. Shane began to hear the sounds of neighbors coming out and shouts from the street. He blocked all of it out.
He grabbed a rock as he hit the stairs, then tore off his shirt when he reached the top. He moved to throw the rock through the window, but saw the glass was already broken. Worse, several windows along the back length of the apartment had been opened. Someone had been feeding this fire.
He wrapped the shirt around his arm and hand, then reached through the window, opening the door from the inside.
“Phoebe!” Shane raised an arm to block the smoke and heat. He had entered through the kitchen. It wasn’t on fire yet, but there was enough smoke to tell him this fire was spreading fast.
“Phoebe! Phoebe!”
Shane probably should have given up when he saw the flames. They were focused mostly in front of her bedroom door. The curtains in front of the living room windows had gone up.
Shane grabbed a blanket from the couch and put it over his head and body. He cursed and took it off, running back to the kitchen for a broom. He didn’t know what was piled in front of her be
droom door, but it was engulfed and going up fast. He batted at it with the broom, feeling the flames leap at him, licking the skin of his hands and arms as he pushed the pile of material aside. He tossed the broom and donned the blanket again before kicking her bedroom door in.
The blanket caught fire and he was forced to throw it back out into the living room as soon as he made it through to her bedroom. There would be no using that to get back through the apartment.
Shane found Phoebe unconscious beside the bed.
“Phoebe! Phoebe! Can you hear me?” The sound and heat of the fire was overwhelming. The noise was something he would never forget as he lifted Phoebe and brought her to the window. He talked to her the whole time, as he set her down next to open the window.
She didn’t respond, didn’t move.
Shane’s heart flew in wild, erratic jumps as he saw firefighters coming around the corner of the house.
“Here! Over here!” He called out, then pulled Phoebe up, leaning her against the window frame so they could get her first. He didn’t know how long she’d been in there breathing in the smoke. He knew enough about fire to know that it was often the smoke that killed people.
Minutes later, he watched as they fed Phoebe oxygen and loaded her into an ambulance. Someone pressed an oxygen mask to his face. Another pair of hands pulled him to sit.
He wrenched away. “I need to go with her.” His voice was horse and he knew on some level, he needed to let them treat him. A cough wracked his body, but one voice cut through.
“Shane! Sit. Let them work on you.”
Shane looked up to see Garret giving the order. As Shane laid back on the gurney they had been pushing him onto, he met Garret’s eyes. “The back door—window was broken. And the windows along the back side of the house were open.”
Garret gave a curt nod. “I’ve got to let the firefighters do their work, but I’ll get in there as soon as they have the fire under control. I’ll see if we can get an arson investigator sent in from Branson Falls.”
Shane laid back. They were loading him into an ambulance now, and he was fine with that. They could drive him to the hospital. When he got there, he was finding Phoebe and he wasn’t leaving her side.
39
I’ve learned, it’s always worth keeping your mouth shut until you’re sure you can control what’s going to come out.
Fiona O’Malley’s Journal
Shane was as patient as he could be with his mother, Cade, and Laura when they got to the hospital. He’d suffered minor burns on his hands and he’d been given oxygen, but he hadn’t been able to find out a damned thing about Phoebe. His head was pounding and he wanted to run through the hallways throwing open every door until he found Phoebe.
“Enough!” The nurse jumped at his outburst, and his mother scowled at him, before apologizing for his rudeness.
Shane focused on Cade. His brother would get it. “I need to find Phoebe. I need to see her.”
Cade nodded. “I’ll find out what I can. Give me a minute.” His hand on Shane’s shoulder squeezed, letting him know he’d understood.
Shane looked down at his wrapped hands. “Laura, I need you to look up the number for the Pentagon. Call and ask for a man named Carson and tell them it’s an emergency. If they won’t put you through, I need somebody to go to my office and find Phoebe’s emergency contact information instead.”
Laura nodded and picked up her phone, stepping out into the hallway.
His mother’s boyfriend, Josh, walked in then. “I’ve talked to the doctors,” he said, and Shane could have kicked himself. Josh had been an emergency room physician for years before he retired and moved to the ranch. Of course, he’d have gone right to the doctors to see what they would tell him.
Josh continued. “They’ve got two primary concerns right now. Brain contusion and damage to her esophagus and lungs from smoke inhalation. They’ve intubated her to be sure she maintains an open airway and they’ve got her headed in for a brain scan. Brain contusions can be self-healing. They won’t know the extent of the damage from the smoke for another twenty-four to thirty-six hours. They’ll likely keep her sedated for now.”
Shane liked that Josh never seemed to use terms that people couldn’t understand. He guessed it came from talking to family members in the emergency room. Wherever he’d honed the skill, Shane was grateful for it now. “I need to see her.”
Josh nodded. “And you will, but first you need to let them clear you.”
Shane was ready to argue, but Josh put a hand on his shoulder. “You need to let them clear you. If you collapse while you’re trying to tear-ass through this place looking for her, you’re no good to her. Not to mention, no one’s going to let you into the MRI theater anyway and that’s where she is for the foreseeable future.”
Laura walked back in, handing Shane the phone. “I got through. Carson is getting the General.”
Shane put the phone to his ear and waited. It was several minutes before General Brophy came on the line.
“Shane? What’s happened?”
“Sir,” Shane said, feeling the weight of the news he was about to deliver all over again, and suddenly he was the one needing to reassure someone. “There’s been a fire. We’re at the hospital now and they’re running tests and treating her for smoke inhalation.”
He stopped when he realized there wasn’t any more he could say. He couldn’t say she’d be all right, because he didn’t know. He couldn’t say she wasn’t going to suffer long term injuries or even that she wasn’t going to die, because he didn’t know. He’d never felt so utterly helpless in his life. It turned out, he sucked with helpless.
The General seemed to know Shane couldn’t offer him much more. “I’m on my way. Give Carson the details and I’ll get there.”
Shane gave Carson the name and address of the hospital before hanging up. Now, he had to wait.
40
When love comes, hold it fiercely to you.
Fiona O’Malley’s Journal
Shane sucked at waiting. He would have always said he was a patient man. As it turned out, he was dead wrong. Or maybe he was only impatient when it came to Phoebe and her safety.
He paced the waiting room they’d finally showed them to when they decided he wasn’t going to need to be admitted. His family lined the chairs. They’d long ago given up on trying to get him to sit down.
They still occasionally offered food, but his stomach rebelled at even the suggestion.
“Shane.”
Shane spun, looking at the small nurse who stood in the doorway. He’d gone to school with her. Samantha or Stacey or something. She had moved to one of the neighboring towns their freshman year, so she wasn’t someone he knew well.
He crossed the room in two strides and she sent him a sympathetic smile. His heart clenched as he realized maybe she was here to break bad news. Surely, they would have sent a doctor to do that?
She must have seen the look on his face. She brightened. “She’s okay, Shane. They’re bringing her up to a room right now. She’ll be on the third floor. Head up there and ask at the nurse’s station at the west end of the ward. They’ll be able to tell you which room.”
“She’s okay?” His voice was still scratchy from the fire, but he wasn’t sure some of it wasn’t also from the raw emotion flooding him.
“She is. She’s going to need to stay in the hospital for a while so she can have nebulizer treatments and they can monitor her lungs. She might also be in some pain. There might be scarring to her face, but it’s also possible the burns might heal without that. They aren’t severe.”
Shane thought his knees might just give out from the relief. He didn’t care about scarring or any of that. He cared that she would live.
His mom came up next to him, and somehow when she looped her arm through his, he’d swear the small woman might be holding him up.
When he saw Phoebe being wheeled into her room on a bed ten minutes later, he finally sucked in the breath tha
t had been eluding him since he’d seen those flames hours before.
Her hair was singed and there were blisters on her face and places where the skin was peeling and sooty, but the breathing tube had been removed. The nurse looked at him. “We’ll get her cleaned up and settled in.”
There was an IV in her arm and the nurse set about moving tubes and stands into place. “She’s getting pain medication through this. She’s pretty out of it. It’s got a sedating effect, so don’t expect much, but you can talk to her.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. His eyes had locked onto Phoebe’s eyes and he wasn’t going to look away. She grinned at him and started to laugh, that gorgeous smile that made him feel nothing but pure joy.
Her laughter turned to a hacking cough, but when she recovered, she spoke. “I might be late for work tomorrow.” This was said in a loud whisper and she laughed at her own joke, making his heart clench.
“I’ll talk to your boss for you.” He wasn’t surprised to find his cheeks were wet. She’d scared the ever-loving hell out of him.
He lifted the hand that wasn’t filled with tubes and squeezed. “I called your dad, sweetheart. He’s coming. Carson texted and said he caught a flight and should be here in a few hours.”
“You called me sweetheart.” Her eyes were big and round and he couldn’t tell if she was bothered by the name or not.
“I did. I’m rejecting your break-up until we’ve had time to talk about it.”
She scowled, scrunching her face at him. “You can’t do that. The Junes told me you date everyone and you never commit. I don’t want to date another playboy. I’ve had all the playboys I can handle. If I wanted another playboy, I could go get Ray back.”
“The hell you could,” he growled.