by Gina Wilkins
“Someone was in my house. My things...”
“You must have interrupted another break-in. We’ll find out exactly what’s missing, if anything, after we make sure you’re all right, okay?”
She started to nod, then bit back a groan and lifted a trembling hand to her forehead. “My head hurts.”
“I know, honey. Just lie still and I’ll be right back.”
When he found out who did this, he thought as he punched buttons on her telephone, he’d better make sure that someone else made the arrest. He couldn’t guarantee that he could control himself...and he wasn’t going to risk losing a conviction because of a police-brutality charge.
A few minutes later, he hung up the phone and turned back to Emily, knowing that a patrol car was on the way. He’d explained that he would be leaving for the hospital and would return as soon as he’d made sure that Emily was all right.
Emily was sitting up, her head on her raised knees.
“I told you to lie still,” he fussed, kneeling beside her again.
“It hurts too badly to be still.”
“All right. Let’s get you to the hospital.”
He placed one arm behind her back, and slid the other beneath her knees.
Emily lifted her head, apparently making a massive effort to do so. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to carry you.”
“I can walk.”
“You can’t even hold your head upright Be still.”
She didn’t seem to have the strength to argue with him. Her head fell weakly onto his shoulder when he rose with her held securely in his arms. She felt light and heartbreakingly fragile as he carried her out to his Jeep. And he thought it would almost be worth risking a lawsuit if he could just get his hands on the scum who had hurt her.
EMILY WAS DIAGNOSED with a mild concussion. No skull fractures. After giving her something for pain, the doctor released her into Wade’s care.
Wade wanted to take her to his house, where he and Cecilia could take care of her. Or, if she wasn’t comfortable with that, he offered to drive her to her aunt and uncle’s house.
Feeling stronger now that her pain had been brought down to a manageable level, Emily refused both options.
“I want to see what’s missing from my house,” she insisted.
“And who’s going to stay with you tonight? You heard the doctor say you should have someone check on you a couple of times.”
“I’ll call Aunt Bobbie. She’ll come,” Emily replied confidently. “Please, Wade. Take me home.”
For all that she’d been in such a hurry to move, she was suddenly almost overwhelmed with the desire to be in her own home.
She almost changed her mind when she walked into her living room, leaning on Wade’s arm for support. She groaned, taking in the mess that someone had made. “Who could have done this?”
“That’s what we’re going to find out,” Wade answered grimly. He glanced at one of the two uniformed officers who’d filled out a report on the break-in. “What have you found, Marley?”
“The back door into the kitchen was kicked in. The bedroom has been trashed. Drawers all through the house ransacked—probably looking for cash. A jewelry box was overturned on the bed. Some costume pieces scattered around. If there was anything valuable in it, it’s probably gone. Maybe Ms. McBride can tell us. A TV and a VCR are stacked on the bedroom floor. The perps must have bolted without taking everything when Ms. McBride walked in on them.”
“Did you have valuable jewelry or cash around the house?” Wade asked Emily, who had been listening intently to everything Officer Marley had said.
“I had a little cash in a drawer of the writing desk in my bedroom. Not much, less than a hundred dollars. And I don’t really have any valuable jewelry. Just my diamond-stud earrings, and I’m wearing them. And my mother’s...”
She glanced down at her arm and felt her voice catch in her throat.
“Your mother’s...?” Wade prodded gently.
“My mother’s gold bracelet,” she whispered.
“It was in your jewelry box?”
“It was on my arm.”
There was a moment of silence as everyone suddenly realized that whoever had knocked Emily down had paused to take the bracelet from her arm before running away. Emily watched as Wade’s face, which had already been hard with anger, darkened even further.
She wouldn’t want to cross him when he looked like this, she realized.
She hadn’t really seen him in cop mode before. Even when he’d questioned her about the embezzlement of Sam Jennings’s office funds, he’d seemed mild mannered and self-possessed.
He looked downright dangerous now.
A few minutes later, Wade walked the two uniformed officers outside while Emily leaned back against the cushions of her sofa, her eyes closed, her headache now settled into a persistent, dull throb. She was having trouble thinking dearly; she blamed the painkillers the hospital staff had pumped into her, though she knew that shock was a good part of it. Never in her wildest dreams had she ever imagined that she would be attacked in her own home, here in the little town where she’d spent her entire life feeling utterly safe, if increasingly restless.
She wondered if she would ever feel so naively sheltered again.
“Emily? Honey, are you okay?”
She opened her eyes to find Wade bending over her, not looking dangerous now, but touchingly concerned. “I’m okay,” she said. “Just tired.”
“I’ll call your aunt.”
“Wait.” She spoke without even stopping to think. “Not yet.”
Wade hesitated. “What is it?”
“I know you probably have other places to be, but...would you sit with me, just for a minute?” she asked apologetically. “I need just a little time to recuperate before Aunt Bobbie comes to fuss over me.”
“There’s nowhere else I need to be rightnow,” Wade assured her, taking a seat beside her on the sofa. “Can I get you anything? Something to drink?”
“No, thank you.” She only wanted to sit with him for a little while, to know he was there. And that he cared.
What she really needed, she thought with a lump in her throat, was to be held. But that was something she couldn’t bring herself to ask him.
She didn’t have to ask. Wade reached out and pulled her into his arms, tucking her wounded head gently into his shoulder. His warmth enveloped her, wrapping her in a safe, snug cocoon.
She hadn’t intended to cry. At least, not in front of anyone. She’d told herself she had more courage, more dignity than that. After all, she was lucky. She hadn’t been badly harmed. Nothing of great value had been taken....
She buried her face in Wade’s throat and felt the tears spill out, wetting his skin and her own.
Wade held her closer, murmuring something comforting and incoherent, except for the endearments scattered among the reassurances.
“My mother’s bracelet,” she said brokenly, naming the only thing that had been taken that truly mattered to her. “It was all I had of her.”
“I wish I could promise that I’ll get it back for you,” he murmured against her hair. “But all I can promise is that I’ll try.”
Without drawing away from him, she lifted one hand to swipe at her face. “It shouldn’t have mattered so much to me. I don’t even remember her. She abandoned me when I wasn’t quite two. I should hate her.”
“But you don’t.”
“I tried, when I was growing up without a mother. Especially after Lucas left, and there was no one left but Dad and me.”
“Was your father good to you, Emily?”
The careful way he phrased the question told Emily that Wade had heard something about Josiah, Jr.
“He never hit me,” she assured him. “He never touched me, actually. Not a hug. Not a word of praise or affection. Lucas gave me my hugs when I was little, and it was Lucas who helped me with my homework and fixed my broken toys and comforted me when I had
bad dreams.”
“How old were you when your brother left?”
“Almost thirteen. After that, I went to Aunt Bobbie when I needed affection.”
“But you stayed with your father all those years, taking care of him.”
She nodded, wondering how to make him understand. “He had no one else,” she finally said simply. “He’d alienated so many people. His brother Jonas died years ago, and he’d never gotten along well with Uncle Caleb. Uncle Caleb helped out when Dad became bedridden, but Dad didn’t like having him around much. He had nurses when I was at work, and I took care of him in the evenings. At the end, I thought...well, I thought maybe he would have liked to thank me,” she said. “But he couldn’t speak by then. Maybe I was just reading into his expression what I wanted to see there.”
“Or maybe not. It’s entirely possible that he felt deeply grateful for your loyalty, and just didn’t know how to let you know.”
“I’d like to think so.”
He stroked her hair, his fingers tangling in her tumbled curls, easing over the tender lumps at the back of her head. They sat that way, in comfortable silence, for several long minutes, until Emily finally stirred and sighed.
“It’s getting very late,” she said. “I should probably call Aunt Bobbie. Though I think I’d be perfectly fine alone tonight.”
Wade’s expression turned stubborn. “You heard the doctor. He said you should have someone with you. To be honest, I’d like to be the one to stay and take care of you, but since the whole town would be talking about it tomorrow if I did, I’m calling your aunt.”
She felt her face warm. “I haven’t even thanked you for all you’ve done for me this evening. Nor asked if there was a reason that you stopped by.”
He stroked a strand of hair away from her cheek, then cupped her face in his palm. “Do you remember what you said when I found you lying on the floor?”
She had a vague memory of lying there, of squinting into a sudden bright light and seeing Wade bending over her, his brown eyes dark with worry. “I...er...”
“You said you’d been thinking of me when you came inside.”
Her cheeks grew hotter. “I did?”
“Yes. And that was why I stopped by...because I’d been thinking of you, too. I seem to think about you all the time, as a matter of fact.”
Emily moistened her lips, her face only inches from Wade’s. “Do you?”
“Yes. All the time.”
He leaned his head over, brushed his lips across hers as tenderly as if he thought she might shatter. But Emily wasn’t feeling quite so fragile now. She reached up with both hands to hold his head to hers, deepening the kiss on her own.
Wade didn’t hesitate to follow her lead. By the time the kiss ended, Emily’s head was spinning, and it had nothing to do with her concussion.
“Tell me again why I’m leaving you tonight,” Wade muttered.
She couldn’t quite remember. “Because you have other things to do?”
“Nothing could be more important than this.” He kissed her again.
“Because...” She couldn’t seem to think of a reason, either, as he brushed his lips across hers once more.
“Because you need your rest,” he said with a reluctant grimace. “And because we don’t want to give the town gossips anything more to speculate about. What’s your aunt’s number? I’ll go call her.”
“Don’t frighten her,” Emily warned after reciting the number. “Make sure she understands I wasn’t badly injured.”
He nodded, then leaned over to kiss her one more time. “One night soon,” he said when he finally drew away, “I’m not going to be leaving.”
10
EMILY TOOK TUESDAY off work. Her headache was gone—or had at least subsided to an occasional twinge—but she was still bruised and sore, and she didn’t quite feel up to facing her co-workers’ sympathy and questions. Though they seemed inclined to stay all day to fuss over her, she finally persuaded her aunt and uncle to leave sometime late in the morning, promising to call them if she needed anything at all.
Her uncle had installed a new lock on the kitchen door and repaired the damage that had been done to it by the intruders. Her aunt had cleaned the house from top to bottom, making sure everything was back in its proper place. They left reluctantly, insisting that Emily lock up securely behind them.
It was a relief to be alone again, she thought as she heard them drive away. As much as she loved her aunt and uncle, and as much as she appreciated their loving concern, their constant hovering had begun to get on her nerves.
The telephone started ringing before noon, and didn’t stop all day. It seemed that everyone in town wanted to inquire personally about Emily’s well-being, and to ask for all the juicy details. Honoria hadn’t seen so much excitement in years, she thought wryly, hanging up the phone after yet another call.
But she was surprised—and more than a little touched—that several callers had asked if there was anything they could do for her. Even Martha Godwin had wanted to know if there was anything she could bring Emily—and she apparently wasn’t talking about her dog. What a refreshing change that was!
The telephone rang again beneath her hand. With a smothered sigh, she lifted it, thinking she really should put the answering machine on for a while to give her a chance to rest her ears. “Hello?”
“I just talked to Mother. She told me what happened to you last night. Are you all right?”
Though the caller hadn’t bothered to identify herself, Emily recognized her cousin’s voice. “I’m fine, Tara. Really,” she assured the only daughter of Caleb and Bobbie McBride. “I got hit on the head, and I have a mild concussion, but there’s no permanent damage. On the whole, it could have been much worse.”
“I can’t even bear to think about what might have happened.” Tara seemed to shudder as she spoke. “Mother said you apparently interrupted the thieves before they could get away with much.”
Emily thought fleetingly of her mother’s bracelet, but she couldn’t talk about that now. Not if she wanted to keep up the stiff-upper-lip facade she’d maintained for everyone else. “We believe that’s what happened. He—or they—only took a few things they could stash in their pockets. We don’t know if one person or more were involved.”
“Dad seems to have some concerns about the new police chief. He said there were never so many break-ins before, and that no progress seems to have been made in solving them. Apparently, people in town are talking, beginning to wonder if they hired the right guy for the job.”
Emily immediately grew defensive on Wade’s behalf. “That’s hardly fair. Wade’s doing everything he can with the limited resources Honoria provides him. He’s even asked for help from the state police. He’s working long hours on these robberies, Tara, and I don’t think anyone else could do any more toward solving them than he has.”
Tara’s voice held an undercurrent of amusement when she replied. “Mother told me you wouldn’t like it if you heard what Dad had said. She said you and the police chief are...um...close friends.”
“That’s exactly what we are,” Emily replied firmly. “Friends.”
“I would certainly like to meet this Wade Davenport. Why don’t you bring him to my wedding?”
“I’m sure Wade has plans to be with his own family on Thanksgiving weekend,” Emily replied a bit stiffly.
“Mother told me he’s a widower with a son. She said he’s not too hard on the eyes, either.”
Emily abruptly changed the subject. “Speaking of your wedding, how are the plans coming along?”
Tara chuckled at the obvious ploy. “Everything’s going well. I can’t wait to see you all in a few weeks. I was serious about you bringing a guest...and, by the way, children are welcome, too, if your date happens to have one.”
“Tara, did you call to ask about my welfare or to harass me?” Emily asked in exasperation.
Tara laughed. “Both.”
“Well, I’m fine and y
ou’ve succeeded. So, if there’s nothing else...”
“Okay, I can take a hint. I have to get back to work, anyway. I’ll see you soon. And I’m really glad you’re all right, Emily. I was so scared when I heard what happened.”
Reassuring Tara again that no lasting harm had been done—no physical harm, anyway—and thanking her for her sincere concern, Emily finally hung up the phone.
It wasn’t long afterward that her cousin Savannah called, having also heard the news. The conversation was similar to the one Emily had had with Tara. Savannah, too, required several reassurances that Emily wasn’t seriously injured. And she expressed her horror that something so terrible had happened within the security of Emily’s own home. It seemed that the whole family was having to change their perception of Honoria as a safe, sheltered, secluded place that big-city crime couldn’t touch.
Savannah raved for a few minutes about her happiness with her new husband, renowned author and screenwriter Christopher Pace, and about how well her twin teenagers were adjusting to their terrific stepfather. And then she, too, mentioned that she’d heard Emily was involved with Honoria’s new chief of police.
Swallowing a groan, Emily repeated that she and Wade were just friends, that there was nothing serious between them, that she had no intention of entering into a lasting relationship with the man. Savannah didn’t seem to believe Emily’s protestations any more than Tara had.
As Emily hung up the phone after Savannah’s call, she reflected on how ironic it was that even her long-distance relatives had decided that she and Wade were meant for each other. Why couldn’t they all understand that she wasn’t looking to get permanently involved with anyone?
Not even a man as undeniably special as Wade Davenport.
WADE NEEDED some time to himself late Tuesday afternoon. It had been a hectic morning following a stressful night. Everyone wanted to know when he was going to solve the series of break-ins that had been plaguing their town—as if he and his staff weren’t doing all they could.
He took a break at midafternoon to slip into a coffee shop dose to his office and take refuge in a high-backed booth that offered him the first semblance of privacy he’d had all day. Nursing a cup of coffee and a slice of pie, he lingered as he thought about those increasingly frustrating robberies.