Bride On the Run

by Leann Harris

  “I called 9-1-1.” Her hands flew to her mouth. “Is she all right?”

  He looked down at J.D. “I don’t know.” The words were wrenched out of the deepest part of him.

  He didn’t have any time to think after that. The emergency equipment and paramedics arrived at the same time, their sirens filling the air with a wail. He tried to stay with her, but the police and fire marshal needed to talk to him. It took all his professional integrity and years of training to coherently answer the investigators’ questions, when all he wanted to do was hold J.D.’s hand and make sure she was okay.

  The moment the fire was extinguished, he turned to the fire marshal. “If you have any more questions, contact me at work.”

  With all the windows in his car blown out, glass littering the interior, Luke looked around for another way to get to the hospital. He spotted his friend Mike Frazer, one of the patrolmen who responded to the call, climbing into his cruiser.

  “Mike, can you give me a lift to the hospital?”

  “Sure. Hop in.”

  “Thanks,” Luke answered, sliding into the front seat.

  All the worries and fears that he’d been able to hold at bay while he talked with the police and firemen surfaced, and he again saw J.D.’s crumpled form on the driveway. Be all right, J.D., please....

  “There seems to be a lot of activity at that house,” Mike commented, bringing Luke out of his silent dialogue.

  Luke threw him a puzzled look.

  “I answered a burglary call at this address a couple of weeks ago. Remember? You showed up.”

  Luke ran his hand through his hair and came back with blood on his fingertips.

  “Hey, you better get that looked at,” Mike said, seeing the blood.

  “It’s nothing. Just glass from my car windows.”

  Mike shook his head. “That blast must have been something, to blow the windows out in your car. Does the fire marshal think it was an accident or deliberately set?”

  There wasn’t any doubt in Luke’s mind it was deliberate. “He doesn’t know at this point, but he’s going to sift through the rubble in the morning.” And if I get my hands on whoever did it, I’ll kill him.

  “Is she that special?” Mike asked, glancing at Luke.

  Luke didn’t know if it had been his tone or something in his eyes that had given him away, but Mike had picked up on the concern. “Yeah.”

  He couldn’t admit to more. Not at this point.

  Mike parked the patrol unit in front of the emergency door. He extended his hand. “I hope she’s okay.”

  “Thanks,” Luke responded, taking Mike’s hand.

  He tore through emergency like a tornado across the Texas panhandle. Finally, after accosting two doctors, he found the attending physician.

  Luke flashed his badge and identified himself. “How is she?”

  “There were no broken bones, no internal injuries. She has a slight concussion, a few minor cuts, contusions and bruising. When she fell, she scraped her face, making it look worse than it really is. We would like her to spend the night for observation.”

  “Has she regained consciousness yet?”

  “Briefly. She asked for you.”

  “Me?”

  “You are her husband, aren’t you?”

  If the man had asked him if he was the governor, he couldn’t have been more surprised. “Yes, I guess I am.”

  The young doctor grinned. “Which part aren’t you sure of? Your name or whether you’re married?”

  Feeling his face heat with embarrassment, Luke scowled at the man. “J.D. and I have been married less than four hours. You’re the first person to refer to her as my wife.”

  The doctor leaned close. “If that good-looking a woman was my wife, I definitely wouldn’t forget.”

  Luke gritted his teeth, fighting to rein in his temper. “Doctor, I’ve been pushed to the very edge and I’m in a very, v-e-r-y bad mood.” Luke used the tone of voice he usually reserved for scaring uncooperative witnesses into cooperating. “I’m trying my best to be civil, but if you don’t tell me where J.D. is, I’m going to do something we’ll both regret.”

  Luke’s words ripped through the doctor’s good cheer. “Oh sure, Detective. She’s up on the next floor. Room 228.”

  Luke didn’t wait for any further instructions but ran to the bank of elevators. When none of the elevators immediately responded, he located the stairs and vaulted up them. Once on the second floor, he found her room quickly and started to push open the door.

  “You can’t go in there,” the nurse called to him.

  He wasn’t in the mood for this. “Who’s going to stop me?”

  The nurse crossed her arms and gave him a hard stare. “I am.”

  That brought him up short. The woman had a slight build, graying hair and an air of authority to her that couldn’t be missed.

  “Which branch of the service were you in—” Luke looked at her nameplate “—E. Brown?”

  “Army, and you still can’t go in that room.”

  Cooperate, McGill. You’ll get what you want faster. He held up his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m Luke McGill.” He pulled his badge from his jacket and showed her the shield. The Secret Service must have been giving the hospital tips on how to guard patients.

  “You’re the lady’s husband.”

  Luke’s eyes widened. What had happened? Had their wedding been the lead story on the six o’clock news?

  Seeing his shocked expression, the nurse commented, “It’s on her admitting form.” The nurse led the way. “Have you talked to the doctor?” she asked, pushing open the door.

  “Yes.”

  “Then you know the situation. I need to wake her again. I want to warn you, we can’t give her anything for pain because of the head injury, so she’s probably not going to be feeling too good.”

  “I understand.”

  The light over the bed was on, casting a soft glow throughout the room. The moment he saw her, his heart stopped, then began to beat with a heavy rhythm. He’d been warned but not prepared. She looked small and childlike tucked under the sheets. The bruising around her right eye disappeared into the white dressing covering her cheek. Her lips were swollen and cut. A butterfly bandage held together the wound on her chin.

  “Wake up, honey,” the nurse said, lightly shaking J.D.’s shoulder.

  J.D. moaned.

  “Your husband is here,” she said, probably to reassure J.D., Luke guessed.

  He could see J.D. struggling to wake. “Luke?”

  He gingerly took her hand. It was swollen, black and blue, her knuckles bloodied. “I’m here, J.D.”

  Her eyes flickered open, and in their blue depths, Luke saw her pain. She tried to find and focus on him. He brushed his other hand through her hair. “Relax, sweetheart. Don’t try to do anything but rest.”

  Pulling a penlight from her pocket, the nurse examined J.D.’s pupils. “You’re looking good.” She squeezed J.D.’s arm. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

  J.D. rolled her head toward Luke. Tears welled in her eyes, then slipped down her cheeks. “Why did they do it, Luke?” Her voice quivered.

  At that moment, her guard was completely down and the tender heart of this beautiful woman exposed. There was no brashness, none of the self-confidence that usually carried her through. Instead, he saw a vulnerable woman who’d been hurt and needed comfort.

  Unable to deny his feelings, Luke rested his hip on the bed and gathered her into his arms. What could he tell her? He certainly couldn’t tell her what he suspected—that the person who blew up her house was probably aiming to murder her. “I don’t know,” he murmured.

  She pulled back. Her eyes searched his, wanting answers. “Why did they destroy everything I own?” She began to cry in earnest.

  With infinite tenderness, he ran his fingers through her hair. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He’d almost lost her tonight. He didn’t know why he’d called to her. Maybe that sixth sense
of his had been working. If she hadn’t turned toward him and taken a step, she’d have been killed when her house blew up.

  And that would have killed him.

  With her tears dampening his shirt, her uninjured cheek resting on his chest, Luke knew he was a goner. J.D. Anderson had done what no other woman in the last fifteen years had done. She’d pierced the wall he’d built around his heart.

  J.D.’s tears subsided and she drew back. Reaching for a tissue on the nightstand, she blew her nose and dried her eyes. She didn’t look at him, and he sensed she was embarrassed by her outburst.

  With a touch as light as the first breeze of spring, he lifted her chin. “I’m sorry about your house, but I’m glad you weren’t seriously hurt. Things can be replaced. You couldn’t.” He eased her back against the pillows. “Go to sleep. I’ll be right here if you need me.”

  “Thanks, Detective.”

  “You’re welcome, Counselor.”

  The last word he whispered as a caress.

  * * *

  Luke stared out the window at the rain-slick street. The streetlight cast an eerie glow over the empty road. In the next hour the sun would rise. He glanced over his shoulder to the bed. J.D. was asleep.

  He’d been up all night wrestling the demons of his past, and the devil of his present.

  He “cared” for J.D. At this point he couldn’t label the feelings anything else but that. Still, the knowledge he had any feelings for her scared him witless. Why did it scare him, he asked himself. Because J.D. had the same drive and intensity that his ex-wife Kay had.

  He and Kay had grown up in End of the World, Texas, a small farming community five miles from the border of New Mexico. High school sweethearts, they had married immediately after graduation and moved to Dallas where he’d enrolled in the police academy. Kay got bored staying at home, waiting for Luke through the endless hours of police work. To combat her restlessness, she entered college and got a degree in business management.

  They grew apart. Different friends. Different goals, different wants out of life.

  As Kay started associating with young professionals who were striving to achieve more, she began to press Luke to go back to school to improve himself. Once, at a party, she apologized to her friends when she introduced him, saying he was just a beat cop. It was the last time he went with her anywhere. And after that night, he never slept with her again.

  When Kay was offered a promotion, which involved moving to Denver, she took it without consulting him. He came home to an empty house and a note on the kitchen table.

  He moved across the room to J.D.’s bedside. He started to reach out and touch her face, but stopped. All his self-protective instincts were going off.

  It took him years to get over what Kay had done. Would J.D. find him lacking just as Kay had? Could he risk that again? Put himself out there to be chopped up again?

  And yet, he remembered last Saturday, when he had unwittingly shown J.D. a weakness and she hadn’t taken advantage of him.

  What was he going to do?

  Stall.

  * * *

  Luke walked through the rubble of J.D.’s house. Not much was left. Part of the kitchen stood, the outside wall of the front room, but other than that, there was nothing. No clothes, no personal items, no legal files. The fire marshal was back, sifting through the remains.

  “Do you know what caused the explosion?” Luke asked, squatting beside the man. Last night he had told the fire marshal there had been an initial explosion, followed by the fire.

  “Yeah, I ran across the remains of a bomb in the lady’s office.” He stood and dusted off his hands. They walked through the debris to where J.D.’s office had been. The fire marshal pointed to where he’d found the evidence.

  Luke’s expression grew grim. The bomb had been placed directly under J.D.’s bedroom. If their plane had been on time, J.D. would’ve been asleep in her bed. A cold anger seeped through his bones. Whoever did this knew what they were doing. They wanted both J.D. and any evidence she had destroyed. They failed this time, but Luke knew a person this desperate would try again. That meant the lady was still in danger.

  He knew what he had to do. J.D. would balk, but that was too damn bad. Her safety was the most important thing, and no one, including the counselor herself, would stop him.

  * * *

  The pounding in her head woke her. J.D. opened her eyes, then groaned against the offensive light flooding into the room. The events of the previous night came roaring back. They had blown up her house.

  She looked around for Luke, uncomfortable with facing him this morning after falling apart like she had. He wasn’t in the room. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. Whatever had possessed her to act like a first-class weeping ninny?

  It was simple. She’d been devastated, physically and mentally hurt, and had turned to another human being for comfort. Then, why hadn’t she broken down and wept all over the nurse?

  Because she felt something for Luke.

  But the most surprising part of the whole thing was that he had held and comforted her as if he really cared for her. Wrapped in his arms, she had felt safe and sheltered.

  But what would today bring?

  As if her thoughts had caused him to materialize, she heard the door open, and Luke walked in. She couldn’t read anything in his face and braced herself for whatever was coming.

  He set a shopping bag on the bed. He seemed uncomfortable, like he didn’t know quite what to say. He pointed to the sack. “They’re going to release you today. I brought you something to wear.”

  “What about the clothes I was wearing?”

  He shrugged. “They cut them off you when you were brought into emergency.”

  She reached for the sack. Inside she found a red sweatshirt and sweatpants, a plain white bra and panties, socks and tennis shoes.

  As she pulled out each item, he explained, “I bought what I thought you’d wear. We can go shopping today and get you some more things.”

  “How did you know my size?”

  Much to her amazement, Luke turned a dull red. “Uh, I kind of showed the saleslady what size you were.” He waved his hands in front of his body. “She determined the size from my description.”

  It must have been a detailed description because he’d gotten all the sizes right, including the bra size. If she ever doubted what an observant man he was, this put all her doubts to rest.

  Then it hit her. He’d bought this stuff instead of going to her house and retrieving her own things. That meant... She closed her eyes against the pain. “Was there anything left of my house?”

  “Nothing salvageable.”

  “None of my legal files?”

  “‘Fraid not.”

  “Well—” She didn’t voice her sentiment. Ladies, she’d been told, didn’t say things like that. “So, I’ve got nothing left?”

  He looked at his feet. “That’s about the size of it.”

  All the ramifications of her house going up in flames that she hadn’t considered before hit her. And panic set in. “How am I going to reconstruct all those cases? Know what depositions were filed? Know what people I have to pester to get my clients’ cases reviewed?”

  In his eyes there was a gentle understanding. “Knowing you, you’ll find a way to do it. I don’t doubt it for a moment.”

  His warm support eased part of her anxiety. His reaction should have come as a surprise, but it didn’t. Over the last few days, Luke had shown her a side to his nature that she never dreamed existed. Buried beneath the hard-driving cop exterior was a man who could empathize with others.

  Still, she was puzzled and on edge. Why hadn’t Luke made some mention of her weeping spell last night? All the other males in her life had certainly taken every opportunity they could to let her know she was the weaker vessel.

  So why wasn’t Luke making his power move, going into the “me Tarzan, you Jane” routine? The male showing his dominance over the female
.

  He turned away from her to stare out the window.

  She couldn’t take the suspense any longer. “Why, Luke?”

  He spun around to face her. “Why what?”

  “Why aren’t you making a big deal about me losing it last night?”

  He studied her quietly. “Because I think you did a damn good job holding it together as long as you did. Only a fool doesn’t know when to cry.”

  His words slipped past the barriers she’d thrown up against him. If she weren’t wearing this ridiculous thing they called a hospital gown that left her backside exposed and her dignity dented, she would be tempted to throw herself into his arms.

  “And are you a fool, McGill?”

  A profoundly sad smile crossed his face. “We all don’t cry the same way, Counselor. But to answer your question, no, I’m no fool.”

  Spotlighted in the sunshine, his body was cast in shadow and golden light. Highlights of red danced through his brown hair. His shoulders were broad, his waist trim, his legs long and muscular. He was a magnificently built man. Strong. Powerful. Elemental.

  And something elemental, something that had never been touched before in her, responded to him.

  “The doctor said you could leave anytime you wanted,” he said, rocking back on his heels. “When you get dressed, we’ll leave.”

  The “we” in his sentence caught her attention. “We? What do you mean by we?”

  He sat on the bed and took her hand in his. “As of this moment, Counselor, you have no home, no food, no clothing. In addition to that, you have no car and if you did have a car, you have no business driving one in your condition. You’re going to need some help, and I’m volunteering.”

  “You don’t have to do that, Luke. I can get Sarah or Emma to help me.” She didn’t want to be his charity case.

  “No. I’ll do it.”

  “That’s not necessary, Luke.”

  “But it is.” Steel rang in his voice.

  Why was he being so intractable? Something was wrong. “What are you not telling me?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing slips by you, does it, J.D.?”

  His question didn’t deserve a response.

  “You remember I told you that you’d stir up trouble if you went to Austin? Well, it happened. Your house blowing up was no accident. A bomb was planted in your office. If our flight hadn’t been late, you would’ve been killed.”