by Rachel Lee
She nodded, unable to speak.
“He’s going to be a hundred percent fine in no time. In fact, we should be able to release him tomorrow, if we know he has care at home.”
“I’ll take care of him.”
The doctor nodded. “He needs some time to wake up, then I’ll have someone come get you and take you to him.”
“Thank you.” Relief washed over her so strongly that she had to lean forward and put her head between her knees. God, what was wrong with her?
The doctor touched her shoulder. “You’ve been beaten, haven’t you?”
“A few days ago.”
“Then I want someone to take a look at you. I don’t like that bruise on your head.”
“I’m fine!”
“You sound just like Clint.”
“I can’t afford it, anyway. I don’t have insurance.”
“That doesn’t matter here. Let someone take a look at you. It’ll help pass the time until you can see Clint.”
So she let Sarah lead her away to an examining room, where another young doctor, who introduced himself as David Marcus, checked her from head to toe. And Sara took photos.
She didn’t care anymore how many photos were taken of her purpling, green and black bruises.
All she wanted was Clint.
“Well,” said Dr. Marcus finally, “I wouldn’t have believed it, but you seem to be fine.”
“That’s what I said.”
He gave her a smile that penetrated the blanket of fog that seemed to layer her mind, a fog that allowed only concern for Clint to penetrate. “I doubt you were as fine a couple of days ago. But it’s good to know we don’t seem to have anything to worry about.”
She let that little bit of offered warmth wrap around her heart.
At long last they took her to Clint. He was lying on a bed, his arm bandaged from shoulder to elbow, and held to his side by gauze wrapping. He had more color now, she noted, as she sank into the chair beside the bed.
Then, carefully, she reached out and took his hand. His eyes fluttered open. “Kay?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “Sleep.”
His eyes closed again, and she laid her head on the pillow beside his, still clinging to his hand. She let fatigue claim her then. Her guardian angel was safe, and nothing else mattered.
Sometime during the afternoon, she woke. Lifting her head slowly, blinking, she found herself looking into Clint’s gray eyes.
“How are you?” he asked.
“I’m fine. You were the one who got shot.”
“It’s nothing. I’m ready to get out of here.”
“Not until tomorrow,” she said firmly. “At the earliest.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “Afraid you can’t handle me?”
Her jaw dropped a little, and then she started to smile. “I think I can handle you. But I want what’s best for you.”
“And that means getting out of here. I’m all stitched up. I want…” He hesitated. “Well, maybe I want too much.”
What could he possibly mean? She drew her brows together. “What?”
“I want,” he said, his voice low, “to be somewhere we can talk.”
“Oh.” Probably because telling her she would have to move on soon wouldn’t be easy to do when a nurse could come walking in at any moment. Well, she thought, as her heart squeezed with pain, did she want to delay that another twenty-four hours, or did she want to face it now?
Either way, it was going to practically kill her.
“They won’t let you go,” she said finally.
“Actually, they can’t stop me.”
“Umm…there’s this whole transportation thing, Clint. No car.”
“Hell.” He sighed.
At that moment the sheriff—Gage Dalton, she seemed to remember—limped in. He was smiling crookedly, one side of his face seeming to have lost some mobility to the burn scar that marred it. “Well, well, the hero’s awake.”
“I’m no hero,” Clint grumped. “Cut that out.”
“I thought it was a damn good operation,” Gage remarked. “We were only a couple of minutes away at the critical point. And we got the guy.”
“I hope he’s hurting.”
Gage’s smile widened as he limped to the other chair and dragged it closer. “He’s definitely hurting. We’ve got him cuffed to a bed down the hall. Broken shoulder, broken collarbone, broken ankle. Plenty of bruises and cuts. Somebody did a number on him.”
“Thank the Valkyrie here,” Clint said, nodding toward Kay. “I think she’d had enough.”
“Evidently so.” Gage’s gaze turned to Kay. “We’ve been working while you were hiding. Do you want to know?”
“Please.”
“Well, we got his priors. We got the other complaints you filed against him. I still don’t understand why he kept getting away with it.”
“Some cops,” Clint remarked, “have too much on their plates to worry about one little lady.”
“Evidently so. Lack of evidence.” Gage snorted. “They could have had it with some effort. We got it.” He looked at Kay. “You can’t exactly travel cross country and leave no trail at all. Anyway, I thought you’d like to know he’s being charged with stalking, multiple batteries, attempted murder, kidnapping—which will probably be handled by the Feds, since he took you across state lines—and I don’t think he’s going to breathe free air for the rest of his days.”
Relief caused her to sag as every bone in her body seemed to turn to rubber. “Thank God,” she whispered. “Thank God.”
“Then, of course, there’s the attempted murder of Clint, a second attempted murder charge for you, breaking and entering of a domicile… The prosecutor is having a field day with this one. If it’s in the books, he’s going to get charged with it.”
“Good!”
Gage smiled, clearly satisfied. “Clint? Still sure you don’t want to be deputized?”
“No thanks, I like my life.”
In that, Kay heard the death knell of her hopes. Feeling crushed, she hoped only she didn’t show it.
“Well, I’ve got some more good news,” Gage continued. “The doc says you can go home now, if you promise to be good—and if you have a nurse.” He arched a brow at Kay. “Will you mind being a nurse?”
She started to smile. “It’s the least I can do.”
“That’s settled, then. We can take your statements in a couple of days.” Gage pushed himself out of the chair, a faint grimace of pain crossing his face. “I’ll get someone in here to help you get dressed, Clint. Then I’ll take you both home.”
Chapter 13
Home. Gage had used the word so easily the day when he had taken them to Clint’s place from the hospital. But it would never be her home, Kay thought sadly. Even as she took joy in every little thing Clint let her do for him as his arm healed, she knew this would be the last time she could do anything for him.
He liked his life the way it was. He’d said so.
Since he couldn’t yet move easily enough to get in and out of bed, he’d settled grumbling into life on the couch. Clearly a man who didn’t like being unable to do exactly what he wanted when he wanted, he put up with being an invalid as if it were the worst thing in the world.
Finally she snapped at him, “It could be worse, you know. You might be dead.”
At that he laughed, surprising her, and tried to give in with good grace when he needed help, much as it went against his nature.
But the third afternoon, when he seemed to have recovered from his surgery and the loss of blood, when he started to look bright-eyed again, he asked her to come sit beside him on the couch.
This was it, she thought. He was going to tell her he could manage without her. And he probably could, even if being temporarily short an arm hindered him.
So she sat beside him, on his uninjured side, and waited for him to lower the boom. Her chest ached with the awareness that grief was approaching.
“I’m awf
ul,” he said.
Startled, she looked at him. “What in the world are you talking about?”
“I’m awful.”
She frowned at him. “Would you like to clarify that?”
“I’m talking about the kind of person I am.”
“Well, I beg to differ.”
“You’ve only seen part of me.”
“I’ve seen more than you think. Do you honestly think I don’t see the ghosts in your eyes? The predator you can become?”
It was his turn to look shocked. Then he said, “I’ve seen and done some pretty horrible things. Things I couldn’t tell you in a million years.”
“We’re entitled to some secrets.” One corner of her mouth quivered. Rejection came in all forms, and apparently Clint was trying a different version. She just hoped she had a chance of fighting it.
“Some secrets are corrosive. They eat at the soul.”
She didn’t try to argue. Her throat was so tight it hurt, and she didn’t know how to argue with this, anyway. So she waited, fingers twined together so tightly they ached.
He sighed and closed his eyes momentarily. “Okay,” he said. “I’ve been a bad guy more often than not.”
“In your own estimation.”
“That’s the only one that matters.”
Again she couldn’t argue, nor could she tell him how much it hurt to hear him talk about himself this way.
“I came to hide in this place so I could try to work things through. So I could avoid being a bad guy again.”
When he didn’t continue, she said softly, “Tell me.”
He paused, as if trying to find a way to make sure she understood. “When you’ve been a trained killer, when you’ve been at war too much and too often, things inside you get a little broken. I don’t trust myself.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve seen some of the best men I know find it impossible to come back to civilian life. Because when it hits them, they take their pain, their rage, out on their families. We’re not fit for the regular world anymore.”
“You believe that, but—”
“I’ve seen it. Believing has nothing to do with it.”
She nodded, beginning to truly grasp his problem. “But, Clint, have you ever gone off like that on a friend? Or a lover?”
He jaw tightened. “Not yet. But it helps that I stay solitary.”
“Maybe.”
“There’s no maybe about it. I don’t put myself in situations where the beast could get loose.”
“Except to protect a woman who landed on your doorstep.”
He passed his hand over his face. “You saw what I became.”
“I saw what I became. You’re the only thing that kept me from killing Kevin.”
“I didn’t want you to have that on your conscience.”
“And you didn’t kill him, either.”
“I wanted to,” he murmured. “Oh, God, how I wanted to.”
“But you didn’t. And I wanted to, but you stopped me. That ought to tell you something.”
“Kay, don’t you understand? I’m trying to tell you that you can’t trust me!”
“And I’m trying to tell you that I already do! Completely. Implicitly. Like it or not, Clint Ardmore, I trust you. And I have every confidence in your self-control.”
He looked at her again, doubtfully, then almost fearfully. “I’m afraid of taking advantage of you.”
“In what way?”
“You’re free of Kevin now. You could go out there and have a whole glorious life. Instead you’re sitting here beside me, a crusty old hermit. You should go and try your new wings. And not let me take advantage of you.”
She twisted a little so she was looking directly at him. “How are you taking advantage of me?”
“You were dependent on me for a while. It creates feelings in you that might not be real.”
Her heart sped up. She didn’t know whether she was angry or feeling the first stirrings of hope. All she knew was that this was one fight she intended to win. “Do you really think I’m that stupid?”
“You’re not stupid at all!”
“So you keep saying. I’m also not a princess who’s spent her life in a tower. I’ve had enough experience to know a few things. And one of the things I know is that you’re a good, a very good man.”
“No.”
“Yes.” She rose up on her knees and put her face close to his. “I know I’ve been looking for you, just you, my en tire life.”
“You can’t know that.”
“I already do. You have absolutely no idea what you’ve done for me, and I’m not talking about Kevin. You’ve made me feel worthwhile again. You’ve made me feel smart, not dumb. You’ve given me back a kind of confidence I haven’t had since I was a kid, and all because you thought I mattered enough to shake up your routine and take a huge risk with your own life. To talk to me like an intelligent adult. To care for me when I was almost helpless.” She grabbed his shirtfront, taking care not to jar his wounded arm. “Don’t you see? Not since I was a kid has anyone cared that way for me. Not since I was a kid has anyone thought I was worth even a smidgeon of that kind of effort.”
“But…”
She shook her head, silencing him. “Throw me out and go back to your solitude if you want. But no matter what you do, you can’t prevent me from being in love with you.”
“In love?” he repeated in an almost-whisper, and closed his eyes. “How can you know that? How can you be sure?”
“Try this,” she said fiercely. “I ran more than once. I could have run from you the instant the blizzard was over. I could have called the cops and told them to come get me. I was never as helpless as you seem to think.”
“You couldn’t run. No money. No place to go.”
“Dammit, I’ve always found a way to run. I’ve spent my whole life running. I would have figured something out within a day if I had wanted to. I wasn’t your prisoner!”
He opened his eyes, his gaze boring into hers. Finally a long, unsteady sigh escaped him. “You mean that?”
“Of course I mean it. I ran from a killer. Do you think I couldn’t have run from you? Listen, Clint, please. I mean it. I love you. I trust you. If you don’t trust me, that’s fine. If you want to give this a trial run for six months, a year, ten years, fine. Whatever it takes to make you comfortable. Because the one thing on this earth that I absolutely do not want to do is walk out your door for good.”
A few seconds passed in silence, and then she saw something new blazing in his eyes. Something bright and beautiful.
“Ghosts are hard to live with,” he said.
“I’ll live with them. You may have noticed, I have some of my own.”
“And you’ll leave if ever you want to?”
“I always have.”
He started to smile, the stony facade giving way piece by piece. “I love you,” he said. “I love you, Kay Young.”
“I love you, Clint Ardmore. Now, are you done trying to get rid of me?”
His smile broadened. “I give up.”
“Good.” She settled back on the couch and leaned against his shoulder. Her heart began to do a happy tap-dance of joy. He wasn’t going to get rid of her.
“In fact,” he said slowly, “I want to marry you.”
She caught her breath as joy surged in her. “When?”
“I don’t want to rush you.” But his voice held a tentative note of happiness.
“Next week would be fine,” she said.
Suddenly it was as if he’d never been wounded at all. With one arm he lifted her onto his lap and kissed her hungrily, deeply.
A forever kind of kiss. Because they’d both found their forever kind of home.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-5668-6
HER HERO IN HIDING
Copyright © 2010 by Susan Civil Brown
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**Conard County: The Next Generation
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**Conard County: The Next Generation
**Conard County: The Next Generation
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