The Unrelenting Tide (Islands of Intrigue: San Juans - Christian Romantic Suspense)

by Bonner, Lynnette

  His gaze darted to the nurse who stood at the foot of his bed with hands planted firmly on her hips waiting for his response. “So pushy!”

  He was able to joke! The bloom of relief flowered into euphoria.

  Even as he spoke to the nurse he stretched a hand out toward Devynne. “Give me another minute, okay Wanda?”

  Wanda threw up her hands and pinned Devynne with a raised-brow look. “Honey, you have one stubborn man. Yes’m, one stubborn man. But he must love you somethin’ fierce.” With a quick wink she bustled out into the hall still muttering to herself.

  Devynne realized tears were streaming down her cheeks and one hand covered her mouth.

  “Hey.” Carcen wiggled the fingers of the hand he still stretched toward her.

  “Hey yourself.” She stepped forward and slid her hand into his, being careful of the IV line taped against it.

  “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “I’m glad you’re here.”

  He squeezed. “My head’s too hard to be taken out by a mere bullet.”

  “Carcen.” His name emerged on a sob and she bent and brushed a feather light kiss across his forehead. How could he joke at a time like this?

  His brow puckered. “You missed.” With his free hand he reached up and tapped his lips. “Right here.”

  Without even a thought as to what Jackie or Lamar might think she complied, kissing him softly.

  He gave a little sigh his eyes already dropping closed. “I think I should sleep now. Better call Wanda back in here. My head may be hard but it’s killing me.”

  Jackie scuttled out the door and Wanda soon reappeared to adjust a valve on his IV stand.

  Carcen kept her hand clutched tightly in his until the power of the drug slackened it in sleep.

  Exhausted from her long sleepless night, but not wanting to relinquish her hold on his hand, Devynne sank into a chair by his bed and listened as Jackie filled her in on the details.

  Just as the paramedics had suspected, the bullet had fractured his skull, but barring any sudden swelling, the doctors had offered a very promising prognosis.

  Devynne laid her head down on the side of the bed and wept. They had made it.

  She fell asleep right there. Content to be near Carcen and knowing Jackie and Lamar would care for Marissa. She didn’t know how long she’d been asleep when she felt someone tug on her. Blinking sleepily, she realized Jackie was trying to lead her somewhere. A cot had been brought into the room and Jackie eased her onto it, pushing her over onto the pillow.

  “Marissa?”

  “She’s fine, dear. Napping with Lamar.”

  She started to sit up. “Carcen?”

  Jackie pressed her back down. “He’s sleeping too. The nurse was just in and said his blood pressure is looking better and his stats are great.”

  Relaxing, Devynne let the cling of sleep claim her once more.

  The gleam of an evening sunset cast a golden glow through the room when she woke again, this time to quiet voices. Groggily she sat up, batting her hair out of her eyes which quickly widened at the sight of Boyd, Niemeyer, and Randy who was seated in a wheel chair, all huddled in the doorway whispering with Jackie. Lamar and Marissa were not in the room.

  Her twinge of alarm must have shown because Jackie hurried to reassure her with a whispered, “Lamar and I were just taking Marissa down to the cafeteria for some dinner when I bumped into these three. I’m heading down there now. We’ll bring you back something.”

  As Jackie tiptoed out of the room, Carcen stirred. “Boyd? And Niemeyer? Thank God.” He roughed his hands over his face and then grimaced and gingerly touched the bandage on the side of his head. “Sanchez said you both were dead.”

  Devynne stood from her cot and stepped to Carcen’s side, wanting to be as close to him as possible.

  Boyd spoke through puffy lips. “He just roughed us up good. Sorry we let you down, Boss.”

  Carcen sighed. “You didn’t let me down. He had us all fooled.” His gaze turned to Randy as he pressed the button to make his bed sit up. “Hey man. I owe you my life.” He reached for Devynne’s hand. “Our lives.” He gave her fingers a squeeze. “How did you know to show up when you did?”

  Randy scrubbed at the back of his head looking a little sheepish. “I was monitoring your frequency.”

  Shannon glanced at him in surprise. “So you’re not really an accountant?”

  He shook his head and gestured to Devynne. “My name is Rand Wise. Her agent hired me back when she was working on Genesis Expedition as private security for her. But he didn’t want her to worry about it, so…” he met Devynne’s gaze, “we didn’t tell you.”

  Devynne felt a little queasy. “And when we faked my death?”

  He shrugged. “John was concerned Sanchez might find you again. And he never gave up hope that we would figure out who he was and catch the guy. He wanted you free to go back to acting if you wanted once that happened. So he asked if I’d be willing to move up here and keep an eye on you for minimal pay while I worked other jobs. I agreed.”

  Go back to acting. The thought thrilled her and took the strength from her legs at the same time. She leaned forward into the solidity of Carcen’s bed.

  “And you asked her out because…?” Carcen grumbled.

  Rand grinned with a shrug. “Would you believe me if I said it was a way to keep a closer eye on her?”

  Carcen grunted. “Not remotely.”

  Shannon shuffled her feet. “I’ve got some other bad news. Dawson died on his way to the hospital. I talked to Harry this morning and he said Sanchez never came back to the holding room after you left. He called the paramedics, but by the time they cut him free from the table, and got him headed down the road, he’d already gone into cardiac arrest. They suspect poison, but are still investigating the exact cause.”

  Devynne pushed out a puff of air. “I’m so sorry.” Another death to throw onto her account.

  “This is not your fault.” Shannon, Rand and Carcen all said at once.

  Carcen’s thumb stroked a warm path over the knuckles of her hand. “His choice, Dev. Not yours. His.”

  She pressed her lips together and nodded. But she still felt responsible.

  Rand reached out and touched Shannon’s forearm. “Have you even slept since last night?”

  Shaking her head she rubbed at her forehead. “I traced the money Dawson said he’d been paid and the emails he got. Took me awhile, but I was able to trace it all back to Sanchez.” She gestured to Boyd. “And Boyd went out to Sanchez’s boat and found a lot of incriminating photos and notes.”

  Boyd nodded. “He’d planned the whole thing out ahead of time. Had it all written down. He wanted to take Devynne—” his gaze flickered her way— “Shania…to California and get her back into acting. One entry in his diary said then he’d be able to prove to his father he wasn’t a failure.”

  Rand grunted and folded his arms. “Daddy issues.”

  Boyd shuffled his feet. “Even found a recording of the 9-1-1 call that came in. The one that drew all of you out to the house. It was in his car. The recording was clipped together from movie lines. Probably why it sounded all staticky. He must have called right from the parking lot, played the recording, and then come inside.”

  Wanda bustled into the room just then. She stepped in between the group clustered at the door and Carcen’s bed, facing them down like a mama bear and zigzagging one finger at them. “Now listen, you all might be police, but this here…” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder toward Carcen. “…is my patient. And if he’s gonna get better you alls need to scram on outta here. Ain’t no business needs doing when he’s got himself a cracked skull. Besides…” She looked each of them over from head to toe. “Not one of you looks like you should be anywhere but in a nice soft bed yourselves!” She took hold of Randy’s wheel chair and rolled him out the door, herding the other two ahead of him. “Hotel’s just down the street.”

  Devynne and Carcen g
rinned at each other but snapped to serious expressions when Wanda bustled back in only a second later.

  “Now…” She tipped the screen of his bedside monitor toward her and studied it for a moment before nodding in satisfaction and hanging a new bag of liquid on his IV pole. Pointing at Carcen with a fierce expression she said, “You get back to sleep, Mister. I’m heading home for a few hours of rest myself and I’ll be back in the morning to torment you some more, got it?”

  “Got it,” Carcen chuckled.

  As the nurse hurried out the door leaving them alone, Carcen focused his glimmering gaze on her. His expression turned serious in the space of a breath. “I thought I was going to lose you last night.”

  “The feeling is mutual.”

  He tucked the corner of one lip between his teeth. “I love you, Devynne.”

  She blinked hard. “I love you too, Carcen Lang. More than you’ll ever know.”

  “Come here,” he whispered, tugging on her hand. He pulled her down toward him. His other hand sliding to cradle the nape of her neck, he worked his lips tantalizingly over hers. Her hair tumbled forward in a cascade and he brushed it back clasping it in one hand behind her head, but refusing to relinquish her lips.

  She returned his kiss hungrily, caressing the raspy stubble of his jaw with one palm.

  Beside them something started beeping and she tried to pull away but Carcen tugged her down for more.

  “What in tarnation—” Wanda thundered into the room.

  Devynne jolted back, guiltily swiping a knuckle over her lips and knowing her face must be blazing red.

  “Girl!” Wanda plunked her hands onto her hips. “You sending his blood pressure through the roof! You want to kill him?! I thought he was dyin’ in here!”

  Carcen was laughing, not even having the grace to look sheepish. “I’m not dying, Wanda darlin’. I’m soaring on the heights of love.”

  “Hmmph.” She shook a finger at him. “Now that’s the morphine talking. And you keep callin’ me darlin’ and you won’t be gettin’ any more kisses from your pretty miss.”

  Giving Devynne a pointed look she made a shooing gesture waiting till Devynne dutifully stepped back from his bedside. With a wink she called over her shoulder, “I want him still livin’ and breathin’ when I get back in the mornin’, you hear?”

  Devynne sighed and sank down onto her cot turning her gaze back to Carcen. He was already asleep. “I do too, Wanda darling,” she whispered. “I do too.”

  Through an unrelenting tide of sorrow and pain, Carcen had been there for her, battling to keep her from drowning in her own fear and stubbornness, and ultimately turning the tide with his love. What more could a woman ask for? Except that he lived to kiss her like that every day for the rest of their lives….

  Epilogue

  Two weeks later.

  Devynne sank onto the fat cushion at the front of the Sunday school classroom and gathered the group of four and five-year-olds around her. “Alright guys, I need you all to listen for just a few minutes and then we will play a game okay?”

  The group of squirmy little bodies slowly quieted and fixed their attention on her.

  “Today our lesson is about thankfulness….” A movement at the back of the room drew her attention and her voice trailed away.

  Carcen leaned one shoulder into the frame of the doorway, looking better than any man had a right to in a black leather jacket over a black t-shirt and faded denim jeans. Thumbs hooked into his pockets, and the toe of one boot resting on the floor, he tilted his head and smiled at her. This was the first time she’d seen him without his bandage since his release from the hospital.

  Her mouth was bone dry. He was supposed to be home resting but she couldn’t deny the joy pumping through her at the mere sight of him.

  Billy Brayden leaned over and tweaked one of Marissa’s braids.

  “Billy Bwayden! Keep yo’ hands to yo’self!” Marissa folded her chubby little arms and glowered passionately.

  Carcen’s mouth hitched up on one side.

  “Uh…” She jerked her attention back to her charges. “Kids…” She did a quick assessment. Marissa in a yellow sundress. Billy wearing a red Polo. “If you are wearing red, go to the play dough center. Yellow, over to the reading center. Blue to the coloring center.”

  As the children scattered she scrambled to her feet and met his gaze across the room.

  He smiled, arched his brows and nodded to the space in front of her. She looked down. One little man wearing an orange t-shirt still stood looking up at her, obviously waiting for his assigned area. “Xander, where would you like to go, honey?”

  With a grin the size of the Cheshire Cat’s he angled a look toward the play dough center and pointed.

  “You want to do play dough. That’s fine. Go ahead.” She tweaked his nose and he dashed off without a word.

  When she straightened, Carcen was right there stepping into her personal space.

  She started with a little gasp and then chuckled at herself, resting her hands against his chest. “You aren’t supposed to be here.” She kept her voice low.

  His gaze roamed her face. “Oh but I am. Actually you’re my helper.”

  She tipped her head. “You’re the teacher Mrs. Jacob’s asked me to help?”

  “Mmmm.” One hand at her waist he rested the first finger of his other hand just under her chin, his thumb caressing the dip below her lips.

  “And just when were you planning on telling me?”

  “Oh…” He tilted his head as though in deep concentration and then grinned down at her. “About now.” He dropped the lid of one eye, his gaze traveling first to her lips and then sideways toward the children at the play dough table before he slowly stepped back. “Sunday school is probably not the place for the things I’m thinking, right about now.”

  Heat washed her face and she smoothed the fabric of her skirt. “Yeah. Probably not.”

  “But—” he held up one finger and stuffed his other hand into the pocket of his coat— “Marissa munchkin?” he called, gesturing her daughter over when she looked up. He dropped to one knee beside Marissa and leaned close to whisper something in her ear.

  Marissa nodded, gave a little squeal, and threw her arms around his neck.

  He chuckled and set her aside and when his hand came out of his jacket pocket it held a square, deep blue, velvet box.

  Devynne gasped and threw her hands over her open mouth.

  Carcen cleared his throat, looking uncertain for the first time since he’d entered the room. He angled open the lid to reveal a generous sapphire solitaire surrounded by a swirl of sparkling diamonds. “Will you marry me, Shania Elaine Hane?”

  Marissa’s little forehead wrinkled and she pulled her head back. “Who’s that?!”

  Devynne chuckled but ignored her daughter for the moment. She darted a glance around the room to make sure no children were escaping, before she returned to staring at the ring, hands still firmly planted over her mouth.

  Carcen fidgeted and reached to pluck the ring from its velvet encasement. His brows arching in question as he tucked the box back into his pocket.

  She pulled her hands away from her mouth long enough to say, “This is so not right, Carcen Lang!”

  His brow puckered. “It’s not?” He worried one lip. “I know I’m not Kent, Dev. But I promise to be a good—”

  She stepped forward and pressed the tip of her finger to his lips, silencing him. “You just got done saying this wasn’t the place for kisses, didn’t you?”

  As his understanding dawned, a smile tugged at this mouth. “Is that a yes?”

  If only she could make him feel all the love she wanted to lavish on him in that moment. Tears stung her eyes. “Yes, Sheriff Lang. From the bottom of my heart, yes.”

  Standing up, he slid the ring onto her left hand and dropped a kiss against her fingers whispering, “I’m gonna hold you to at least one engagement kiss. Maybe two. You still owe me for all those dunkings I
took the other day.”

  Marissa threw her arms around their legs and dropped her head back with a huge grin. Dark curls danced over her shoulders as she asked, “Does this mean I get to call Uncle Cawce, Daddy?”

  Devynne interlaced her fingers with Carcen’s and chuckled. “Yes, darling girl, it does. It surely does.”

  Coming Winter 2013…

  Chapter 1

  An assault of whirring, clicking cameras met Kate Jennings’ limo the instant it exited the ferry. Despite the darkened car windows that concealed her, she slunk lower into the backseat, reassuring herself that the huge sunglasses she’d bought at the airport would adequately mask her features. Chase had warned that a few reporters might greet her on the island, but she hadn’t expected this kind of frenzy.

  Panic surged. The last thing she needed was to have her face flashed all over the news. Why hadn’t she thought this through?

  Massive lights and mics on poles swayed like a nightmarish forest, moving along with the vehicle as it rolled forward and eased around a curve in the road. Why couldn’t the driver just gun it? For a split second, she regretted coming here. What had she been thinking, agreeing to marry someone with whom the media had such an insatiable fascination?

  “Kate! Look this way.” A deep voice carried above the others even through the rolled-up windows of the car. “Aren’t you scared of him? Come on, admit it!”

  Scared? A shiver clambered down her spine at the implication. Shuddering, she lowered her chin and brought her hands to her cheeks. The only thing she had to be scared of was having a clear image of her face land on the evening news or the front page of a major newspaper. The suggestion that she should be afraid of Chase was comical in contrast to the disaster these idiots outside her car could initiate without even realizing it.

  “Did he do it, Kate?” A man with a microphone jogged alongside the car, shouting. “What’s he told you?”

  A dull ache thumped at her temples. As the driver managed at last to pick up speed and pull away from the pressing crowd, Kate spoke, more to herself than to him. “It’s a circus out there.”