by Susan Kyle
“I’m very sorry,” Dora managed through tears as she looked at the others. “It’s my fault.”
“No, it isn’t,” Ward said. He clasped her hand in his. “We were looking for something we’d never had, and we had the misfortune to find it in each other. I’m sorry, too, but nothing’s really changed except that Gladys is dead.”
“And you’re glad, aren’t you?” Scotty demanded, red-faced.
“I’m glad for her, Scotty,” he said simply. “She was unhappy, and she made everyone around her unhappy as well. Maybe now she’s at peace.”
“You wouldn’t care if she was. You never loved her!”
“Actually, I loved her very much when we married,” he replied. “But I wanted a child, and she didn’t. I took away her choices,” he added quietly. “She tried to have an abortion, but I found out and stopped her. She never forgave me. She got even in ways you can’t imagine. Once, she told me that you weren’t even my child. She had other men, Scotty,” he said, hating to admit it in front of his co-workers. “She had plenty of them.”
“You’re lying!” Scotty burst out. He raised the gun again. “You take that back! She wasn’t like that! She was my mother and she loved me!”
“She loved using you against me,” he corrected. “And she did a good job of it. Look at you. You’re her image, right down to the drunken stagger!”
Scotty lost his grip on the gun, and it fired accidentally. The bullet ripped into the wall just an inch above his father’s head.
Outside, Josh froze at the sound. His heart shook him, and he seemed to stop breathing. “Amanda!…” he choked, terrified.
The hostage negotiator and the police officer in charge exchanged glances. “Bill, see if you can get a glimpse inside the office!”
An officer with binoculars homed in on the glass window. He didn’t see blood. “It’s all right,” he said. “And the bottle’s open. He’s drinking from it.”
“That’s one break,” muttered the officer in charge. “But it’s going to take another few minutes for that drug to work, and he’s got ants in his pants. If we wait much longer, he may decide to shoot somebody.”
He considered for a minute while Josh clenched his teeth in impotent anguish.
“We go in,” the policeman said quietly. “Carefully, but we go in.”
“Couldn’t you call in the SWAT team?” Josh muttered.
The policeman smiled at him. “What do you think we are, daisies?” he mused. “I started out with the SWAT team. Hawkins, with me,” he said, motioning to another officer.
They put on flak jackets and armed themselves with shotguns. Josh felt sick to the soles of his shoes as he considered the consequences. All his arguments against marrying Amanda vanished as he wrestled with the nightmare of her predicament. He loved her. That was all that mattered anymore. If she loved him enough to marry him, he was ready. Past ready. If she died now, how would he bear it? The law enforcement people started to move. He stopped them, worried.
“The drug should work, shouldn’t it?” he asked.
“Listen,” the officer said sympathetically, “this kid is used to drugs. It will probably be less effective on him than it would be on a nonuser. You don’t want us to bet those people’s lives that it’s going to work in time?”
He sighed wearily. “No. I don’t.”
The officer clapped him on the shoulder. “Trust me. I’ve done this since I was in my early twenties.” He had to be forty now, Josh observed, and found he was less worried than he had been.
The police squad moved in. Incredibly, the entire operation took less than three minutes from beginning to end. They entered through the print shop and stealthily picked the lock that led into the Gazette office. Outside, as arranged, a squad car siren went off at a designated time to camouflage the soft noise picking the lock made. Then, simultaneously, the men armed with shotguns stormed in behind a shattered Scotty.
There were shots.
Josh cursed roundly and made a break toward the door, but two of the officers caught and held him, cursing and white-faced.
“Just stand still,” one policeman told him. “You won’t help by walking into a bullet.”
A minute, a very long minute, later, the front door of the Gazette opened. “All clear!” the police officer called from the doorway. “No fatalities!”
Josh slumped. “Oh, God,” he breathed, and as the officers let him go, he ran for the front door. They weren’t going to stop him this time, not if he had to tackle someone!
He got past the uniformed men and found Amanda on the floor, holding her arm. He knelt in front of her and touched her with shaking hands.
“Oh, baby,” he whispered. “I’ve been out of my mind!…”
“Josh? Josh!” She reached up with her good arm and felt him hold her so close that her ribs ached. She clung, whispering to him, her voice breaking as she gave in to the strain of the past few hours and began to weep.
The others were led outside and turned over to the paramedics. Scotty had a flesh wound in one arm, and there was a rather large hole in the wall where he’d been standing. The sedative in the whiskey had finally taken effect. He was being led away. He didn’t look at his father, who was standing with his arms around Dora, almost in shock.
“Was it bad?” Josh asked her.
“It could have been much worse,” Amanda said.
Josh looked at Ward Johnson and then at Dora. “He’s your son, I gather,” he said, his eyes blazing with fury as he held Amanda.
“Yes,” Ward replied. That look made his knees go weak. He pulled Dora closer. “My wife died and he blamed me. And Dora.”
“I blame you and Dora myself,” Josh said icily. “If you have one shred of sense left, you’ll get out of my sight while you still can. If anything had happened to Amanda, hell itself wouldn’t have been far enough away to save you.”
Ward had never seen that look in another man’s eyes. He pulled a shocked, sick Dora out the door and never looked back.
Lisa was being comforted by Tim and Vic and Jenny, who’d been at lunch when Scotty invaded the office. Lisa was giving them an abbreviated version of the standoff.
Josh got Amanda to her feet and lifted her in his big arms. “Let’s get you taken care of, sprite,” he said softly. His face was still pale, but he was smiling.
“Wow,” Jenny was whispering to Lisa as she spotted Josh. “Who’s the hunk?”
“Your boss,” Josh said with a teasing glance in her direction. “But I’m already spoken for. And flattery will not keep you at your desk. Get a camera, for God’s sake, and start asking questions! Where’s your sense of exclusivity?”
“Yes, sir!” Jenny said, giving him a mock salute. “You can count on me, sir!”
He turned to Tim. “Can you take over the job press temporarily?”
“Yes, sir!” Tim grinned.
“It’s my newspaper,” Amanda grumbled as he turned and carried her to the paramedics. “My job press, too!”
“I’m only making suggestions, as your partner,” he said soothingly. “Any decisions you don’t like, you can countermand later. We have to keep the doors open, darling,” he whispered, and bent to brush his mouth over her pert nose, “until I decide what to do about a replacement for Johnson.”
“How about me?” she teased.
She tingled at the tone and the touch. But when she moved to put her arms around his neck, she winced.
“How did this happen?” he asked as he turned toward the paramedics.
“He hit me with the gun,” she said reluctantly.
He didn’t look at her. But his tall body shuddered with feeling, and the paramedic he was looking at came running.
“Yes, sir, can I help?” the man asked.
“She’s hurt,” he said, putting Amanda down gently. “Her arm might be broken.”
“I’ll check. Not to worry, I’ve had hours of extra training.” He frowned as he felt her arm. “Badly bruised, but I don’t feel any b
reaks. We’d better get an X-ray, though. Never know about hairline cracks that might come back to haunt you.”
“I’ll run her down to the hospital,” Josh said. “Come on, little one.”
He picked her up again, despite her protests, and carried her to the limousine.
“You either have to let me be protective or watch me follow that boy to jail and beat him half to death,” he said through his teeth. “Take your pick.”
She relented. She laid her head back on his shoulder and looked up at him with soft wonder. “In that case, it’s all right if you want to be protective. I’ll lie here and try to look properly helpless.”
His eyes slid down to meet hers, dark with feeling. “There’s only one place I want you totally helpless. I think you already know where it is.”
“That isn’t enough anymore, Josh,” she said sadly. She averted her eyes to his hard mouth. “I’m sorry.”
His arms contracted. “I’m sorry, too. Sorry that I hurt you before you left Opal Cay, and sorry that I’ve been so damned pigheaded and stupid. I should have kept my mouth shut.”
“The truth is always best.”
“You don’t know the truth, yet,” he said, his dark eyes sweeping her face hungrily. “But once I have you properly looked after, I’m going to give it to you. All of it. Then,” he added, easing her into the limousine while the driver held the door open, “we’ll make decisions.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
Dora stayed beside Ward while he fielded journalists and policemen and paramedics. But when they were finally in his car, she went to pieces. “It will be all over town,” she whispered. “Edgar will hear it on the news before he hears it from me.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, miserable. “Dora, honey, I’m so sorry.”
“He’ll take my boys away from me.”
“Maybe not.” He pressed her hand. “Listen, suppose you get a divorce and marry me. Then we’ll ask a judge for visitation rights. You won’t lose your sons, I promise you.”
“You’ve lost yours,” she said sadly. “All because of me.”
“It’s been building for years, Dora. You only helped me precipitate matters. It will work out. If Lawson fires me, I’ll find mother job. I can always go back to reporting if I have to. Trust me. I feel like a new man. I can do anything, if I’ve got you. How about it?” he asked, glancing warmly at her. “Will you take a chance on me?”
It was only then that Dora fully realized all she’d given up. Ward was nice to her in bed. He was a kind man. But she’d sacrificed respectability, a secure future, and her children. There was no way she could ever get them back again. She had Ward. But now that she had him, she wasn’t going to be allowed to give him back. His wife was dead. His son was probably going to prison. And she was the catalyst. She would have to live with his failures all her life and know that she’d caused them.
“Of course I’ll take a chance on you, Ward,” she said dully. She forced a smile for him. “But you’d better drive me home now. I owe Edgar an explanation when he and the boys get home.”
He was reluctant, but in the end he let her go alone. When she walked in the door, she noticed an unusual stillness. There was no one in the house at all. A note was propped on the immaculate dining room table. It had her name on it. She picked it up, hating the clean feel of it, and ripped open the envelope.
Dora, I’m sorry you didn’t feel you could be honest with me about your affair. I’ve taken the boys to stay with my mother, where, hopefully, the press won’t harass them. They’re very upset. I thought you were happy with us. I wish you could have said something before it was too late. Edgar.
She sat down on the sofa and clutched the paper in her hand. After a minute she began to cry. When at last Ward called her she had a bag packed, and she asked him to come and pick her up. It was all she could do. She’d given up everything she had. So had Ward. They might not be ecstatically happy together, but there was no going back. She’d wanted Ward, and an ironic fate had given him to her. Now she had to make the best of what she’d salvaged of her life. It would be all right, she told herself. All the same, her last look at her old home was a bitter one when she drove away in the car next to Ward.
Amanda’s arm was only bruised, but the doctor told her to take Tylenol for the discomfort and get a good night’s rest. He gave her a couple of tablets to take that would make her sleep.
“You won’t need that,” Josh murmured as he stuck the sedative in his pocket. His dark eyes slid over her face with warm possession. “I’ve got a much better way to make you sleep.”
“Have you?” she asked with building excitement.
“Oh, yes.” He pulled her close as the limousine wound its way to his house through the night traffic of San Antonio. “Have you heard from Brad?”
“I had a letter yesterday. He says he’s doing well.” She looked up at him. “He thought he was in love with me, but he’s decided that it was mostly a case of a wounded ego. He’s very sorry for all the trouble he caused.”
“I’ll forgive him if you will.”
“We have to. He’s not a bad man, really. He couldn’t be. He’s related to you.”
“I like that,” he mused. He leaned back against the seat with a long sigh and held her close. “My God, what a day. When I came to find you, I had no idea in hell what I was going to walk into. Are you really all right?”
“Really. Had you been outside long?”
“Long enough to go crazy,” he said. “I was afraid he’d killed you when I heard the shot. I don’t know how I kept on breathing.”
She smiled and snuggled closer to him, laying her weary head against his broad chest. “I thought that I might not see you again. It made me sad.”
His arm contracted jerkily. He stared out the tinted window with eyes that barely registered the city traffic. “I’ve damned near made a tragic mistake, Amanda. I didn’t realize until today that all my noble sacrifices might not have meant anything if you died. If I lost you.”
Her heart leaped. “You yourself said it was only sex,” she reminded him.
“You knew better,” he said. “You knew I was lying through my teeth the whole time.”
“Well, yes,” she mused. “But it hurt, just the same.”
He looked down at her. “There won’t be any miracles, you know,” he said. “No accidentally botched tests or switched test results. I’ve had six specialists on the case. They all agree that I’ll never be able to give you a child.” He hesitated. “Well, the natural way.” He touched her cheek. “There’s a small chance with in vitro fertilization—what they call test tube babies. If you want to try it, later.”
“All I ever wanted was you,” she said simply. “You’re very wrong if you think my interest in you is limited to your fertility.”
He glanced away from her with faint embarrassment. “The thought occurred once or twice. Women want babies, don’t they?”
She searched his averted face. “I wanted you. Just you, for so many reasons, Josh. I enjoy being with you, talking to you, sharing bad times and good ones. We think alike on all the important issues. The rest will give us a lot of arguments to make up after.”
He chuckled. “You sound like a lady with commitment on her mind.”
She lifted her face to his. “Oh, yes,” she said softly. “Years and years of it. Any way you like. No strings—”
“No, you don’t,” he said, stopping her words with his mouth. He kissed her with lazy affection. “You’re not getting away from me again. And I don’t believe in long engagements. If we work fast, we can be married in three days.”
“Married!”
“Don’t look so shocked,” he told her. “You might scare me off. You can have a small, intimate wedding.”
Her head was spinning. Perhaps the ordeal had affected her. She said so.
“No, darling,” he replied gently. “Not the ordeal. Me.”
“And what about that busy love life you threaten
ed to rekindle?” she asked, her eyes flashing.
He smiled ruefully. “That was a last ditch attempt to save you from me. I haven’t slept since you left, or done much of anything except grieve for you,” he said after a minute. His face sobered. “And I came very close to doing that for real today.” He touched her hair tenderly, smoothing it away from her face. The look in his eyes was humbling. “Amanda, do you love me enough to take a chance on happiness?”
“You already knew the answer to that question before you ever asked it,” she replied.
He searched her eyes slowly and nodded. “I’ve always known. That’s why I had the tests in the first place. I wanted you more than anything on earth, except your own happiness. That came first.”
“And then you tried to take away the one thing that was my happiness: you.”
He drew her bruising]y close, careful of her arm, and rocked her against his strength. “I’ll cherish you until they lower me down in the dark,” he said roughly. “And the last thought I have… will be of you.”
She felt the sting of tears in her eyes at the love and tenderness in that deep, quiet voice at her ear. She clung to him hungrily and gave him back the words. When his mouth searched for hers, it didn’t have far to go. She met him halfway, as she always would now, for the rest of her life.
That night, lying close and contented in his arms in bed, Amanda drifted off to sleep. Their loving had been slow and tender and profound, a sharing of wonder and awed beauty and pleasure that transcended anything that had come before.
Afterward they’d talked a little about the newspaper and Ward Johnson’s replacement. But they were hungry for each other, and in between whispers and endearments they’d sought fulfillment again and again.