ANGEL MEETS THE BADMAN

by Maggie Shayne

  Sara tore free of the grip of darkness, even though it tried hard to hold on. It seemed like an uphill battle all the way. Sounds reached her ears, but dulled, as if muffled by layers of cotton, and she had to strain to hear them at all. She had no sense of her body, felt more as if she were floating, weightless, entirely numb. And when she told herself to open her eyes, her brain couldn't seem to locate them, much less command them to move.

  It was a long, slow, frightening journey back to herself. But she knew she was making progress when she managed to pinpoint a single, physical link to life. A warmth, a pressure. A touch. She focused on that touch, which was like a beacon guiding her back. She followed it and slowly identified it. A hand. Holding hers. Steadily, she made her way closer. A voice, speaking to her soft and low. She didn't know what the words were. It didn't matter. She knew the voice.

  It was Jake's.

  Her eyes opened very slowly. Her mouth worked, but no sound came out. She was so frustrated.

  "Hey, easy," he said softly. "Easy now. It's all right." He smiled gently, and his hand stroked her hair. "You're gonna be fine," he whispered. "You hear me? Just take it slow. Don't try to talk…"

  "But—" The sound came this time. It was coarse as gravel sandpaper. She tried to clear her throat.

  "Here. Have some water, hon." Jake got up, moved away from her, poured water into a glass, then came back. He lifted her head, pressed the built-in straw to her lips. Sara drank.

  When she finished, her throat felt marginally better.

  "Better?" he asked her.

  "A little." But she still sounded like a frog.

  "Well, why don't you give it some time? For now, let me do the talking, okay?" he asked her.

  Frowning in frustration, Sara nodded. But damn, there was so much she wanted to tell him. So much she wanted to ask him.

  "Those letters you wrote to me," he said softly, settling himself ever so carefully onto the edge of her bed. "They kept me alive, Sara. I couldn't call you—they wouldn't let me. And I doubt any of the letters I wrote you made it any farther than Kendall's wastebasket."

  Sara blinked. "You … you wrote to me?"

  "Wrote to you, talked to you in my mind. Held you in my dreams. You were never away from me, Sara. Not really."

  A bubble of emotion rose up in her chest, and her eyes watered. "Don't make me cry," she whispered. "It hurts."

  "Oh, I don't want to make you cry." He stroked her hair away from her face.

  "Kendall," she said as her mind slowly cleared. "He was involved with Trent."

  "Yeah, Trent spilled all that when they took him in. He and Kendall are sharing a cell at the moment."

  "They deserve each other." Jake grinned at her.

  "Don't look so happy. I'm still furious at you." Pain in her chest made her grimace a little.

  Jake gripped her hand. "Are you okay?"

  She stared hard at him. "I don't know, Jake. Am I?"

  For a moment he seemed puzzled, then understanding dawned. "Oh, yes. Yes, Sara, you're gonna be just fine. They got the bullet out. There was no damage to your heart."

  "That's what you think," she muttered.

  He leaned over her, kissed her lips softly. "I'm sorry. Will it help if I admit now that … that you were right all along, Sara?"

  "It depends on what I was right about."

  "That the system works. That the bad guys pay. That the good guys win. Damn, I'm just sorry I didn't stop Trent before he hurt you, Sara."

  "Yeah, yeah, yeah," she whispered. "But what about us?"

  "Sara…" Jake sighed, got to his feet and paced away from her for just a moment. Then he came back to her side. "You were right about some other things, too."

  She managed to move her hand, swung it out, caught his in it and tugged. Smiling, he sat down on the edge of her bed again. "Of course I was," she said. "Which things?"

  "I think you already know."

  "I want to hear you say it."

  He smiled. "Okay, I suppose you've earned the right. My mother used to tell me over and over that there was more good in me than I knew. I used to believe it, before … before my time in prison. But I lost that. I don't think I ever would have found it again on my own. But you came along and … well, hell, Sara, you dragged it out of me. You beat me over the head with it until I woke up and saw it there. You made me see that I'm more than I've ever let myself believe I could be."

  "You are," she whispered. "So much more. You're the man … I love."

  He smiled very slightly, lowering his head. "Yeah, I know I am. Actually, everybody in the town of Quinn knows I am by now."

  Sara frowned at him. "How?"

  Meeting her gaze again, looking a bit sheepish, he said, "Because you kept saying it when they brought you in, in the ambulance, in the ER, in the recovery room."

  She felt her face heat and considered it a very good sign.

  "I thought maybe you were just … you know … delirious or something."

  She shook her head. "You know I meant it. I've told you so before, Jake."

  "Yeah, well, after the stunt I pulled—and what ended up happening—I couldn't be sure you hadn't changed your mind. But I sure as hell was hoping you still meant it, Sara."

  Sara's breath caught in her throat, and her brows went up. "Were you, Jake?"

  "Yeah. Otherwise, I'd feel pretty stupid for carrying this around with me ever since they let me out of jail. Hoping I'd get the chance … and the guts … to give it to you." As he spoke, he took something from his pocket. "I bought a new box for it, but it's not new. It was … my mother's."

  He opened the little box and held it so she could see the tiny diamond ring nestled inside. "She cherished it. Never wore it, after my father left her, though. She used to say it was never meant for her, but for me someday, when I found … well, when I found you."

  "Jake…" Sara shook her head slowly, felt her eyes filling with a new flood of happy tears.

  "I can't believe a guy like me has the gall to ask it of a woman like you, but you keep telling me I can be whatever I want to. So what I want to be is your husband. Will you marry me, Sara Brand?"

  Sara nodded as her tears spilled over and rolled slowly down her face. "No one else would ever do," she told him. "I'd have died a spinster if you hadn't come around, Jake."

  "Oh, I wasn't gonna let that happen."

  He leaned down, kissed her gently on the mouth. "I love you, Sara. I did all along. Right from the start."

  She smiled and said, "I know."

  * * * * *