Moving awkwardly without the use of his hands, Mick got to his feet and walked to the ambulance. Hannah’s back was to him, but before he’d covered half the distance, she turned to watch him.
She stood barefoot in the rain. Her jeans legs had been cut away so the paramedics could treat the bums on her legs. Her jacket had been discarded, the synthetic fabric partially melted by the flames and the heat. Her shirt was sooty, her hair was singed, and ugly bruises were forming down one side of her face.
She had never looked so beautiful.
He stopped a few feet in front of her and stared into her face as if he’d never seen it before. As if he might never see it again. He had come so close to losing her today, so damn close that the fear still left him feeling weak.
Her smile was tentative. “Hi.”
He scowled at her. “What the hell did you think you were doing?”
The smile disappeared. “Trying to help you. Trying to help myself.”
“You almost got yourself killed.”
“I know.”
And she did. A deputy had retrieved her tape recorder, and the sheriff had played part of the tape for him. She never guessed she was one of the loose ends I had to tie up, Brad had said about Sandra. She wasn’t as smart as you are. You know, don’t you?
She had known she was about to die. She had pleaded with the bastard, had begged for her life. God forgive him, he hoped Brad suffered unbearably before he died. It was no more than he deserved.
She shifted uncomfortably. “I got the tape. I got his confession. You’re cleared of Sandra’s murder and the arson.”
He raised his hand to comb through his hair, remembered the bums at the stab of pain and lowered it to his side again, settling, instead, on a deeper scowl. “Do you think I give a damn about being cleared if I have to lose you in the process? Damn it, Hannah, what the hell were you thinking?”
“That I helped get you into this mess,” she murmured, looking chastened and hurt. “That I owed it to you to help get you out. That I...” She looked away, somewhere down around his feet, and her voice dropped, became softer. “That I love you.”
He stared at her, feeling as if the ground had just tilted underneath him. He’d known that she loved him. After all, she’d talked about a future, about their house and babies. Still, hearing her say the words made it official, made it real.
It turned a hellish afternoon into one of the best days of his life.
“I love you, Mick,” she repeated, her voice, her look defiant. “I don’t expect you to say it back. After everything that’s happened, I wouldn’t blame you if you walked away and—”
Clumsily he wrapped his arms around her, pulled her close and stopped her words with a fierce kiss. Just touching her made him hungry. Tasting her made him hot. She kissed him back, desperate and greedy, and clung to him when he finally ended it. He stared into her hazy blue eyes at close range. “Don’t you know I love you?”
“I hoped.”
“Don’t you know I want to spend the rest of my life with you? I want to build that house for you and fill it with babies. I want to work with you, make love with you and grow old with you. Oh, Hannah...” He kissed her again, another quick, greedy, grateful kiss. “Will you marry me?”
She wasn’t coy or the least bit indecisive. With the sweetest smile she offered the sweetest, simplest answer. “Yes.”
And then, for a long time, neither of them said anything.
Epilogue
It was a warm September night when Hannah made her way across the wooden footbridge and into the field where the fruit trees grew. A bright sliver of moon shone overhead, making the flashlight in her hand unnecessary, showing the way to what had lately become her favorite spot.
Between two apple trees, she shook out the quilt she carried. Coming here on pretty nights had become a ritual for her and Mick. It was their special place, their place to relax, share their day and simply be together. He planned to join her here tonight, just as soon as he’d said good-night to their guests. Wanting a few minutes alone, she had come ahead on her own.
It was nine-thirty on a Friday evening. Ruby was in charge of the desk, and out front the neon No Vacancy sign was lighting up the dark sky. Business was good at the Last Resort these days, though not entirely responsible for tonight’s full house. Mick’s family had come up from West Texas for the long Labor Day weekend—his parents, both sets of grandparents, his brother and sister and their families. Together they filled five rooms.
They were good people, she mused as she stretched out. They were kind to Merrilee and had welcomed her, Hannah and Sylvie into their family without the slightest hesitation. Remembering that they had remained cool to Sandra through eleven years of marriage, Hannah knew their welcome was significant. They had judged her deserving of their son, and she was relieved, because she surely did love him.
A light breeze blew through the trees, ruffling her hair, bringing with it the promise of autumn. Considering the summer they’d had, she was more than ready for the slower pace that came naturally with fall and winter. She was ready to nest in, hibernate and wait for spring.
It was amazing the changes a season could make. Three months ago she hadn’t even known Mick’s name. She’d been broke and dam near defeated, her future had looked bleak, and she had dreamed of walking away, leaving her worries behind and making a new life elsewhere.
These days she couldn’t imagine living anyplace other than right here or with anyone other than Mick. Meeting him was the best thing that had ever happened to her. Marrying him was even better. Thanks to him, life was better all around. The motel was making a comeback. The remodeling process was slow going, only a few rooms at a time, but the results had been gratifying. On Tuesday they were breaking ground on the new house. Depending on the weather and the demands the motel placed on his time, Mick thought it would be ready to move into in about six months. Perfect timing.
Staring up at the sky, she sighed, thinking about everything else the summer had brought. The tape she’d risked her life for had been sufficient to clear both her and Mick and to pin responsibility for Sandra’s murder and the fire on Brad. The sheriff’s verdict on that hadn’t mattered to Brad, though. He’d died during surgery that rainy Sunday night.
Sandra’s life-insurance policy had been decreed invalid because of the forged signatures. The company lawyer had argued for a lawsuit—based on the fact that Sandra had routinely signed Mick’s name to documents throughout their marriage—but Mick had been happy to let the insurance company keep the money, and the company had been happy to comply. Blue Water’s insurance company had paid off their construction loan after a thorough investigation of the arson, and Mick had immediately sold the company for a comfortable profit.
The bums on his hands had healed, leaving only a few small scars. Her injuries had been nothing—minor bums on her legs and arms and a concussion that had kept her in bed for a few days. Since he’d spent those days beside her, she hadn’t minded.
Footsteps sounded on the bridge, then were muffled on the thick yellowing grass. She sat up and watched her husband approach. Dressed in jeans, a chambray shirt and boots, he looked as wickedly handsome as the first time she’d ever seen him—as every time she saw him. When she considered the threats that had brought them together, she was truly amazed at the love that kept them together. Triumph out of tragedy, Sylvie had proclaimed once she’d heard the whole story. Absolutely.
“Everyone’s settled in their rooms,” he said as he stretched out beside her. “Have you reached any decisions?”
“I love you.”
“I know that. I love you, too. Have you decided about the house?”
Every night this week they’d come out here to choose the exact location for the foundation of the new house. Every night they’d gotten distracted by other things infinitely more interesting. This evening he’d told her to take advantage of the few minutes she would wait for him to make a decision, but even alone, she’d
gotten distracted, anyway.
She smiled at the night sky. “You decide. Just don’t let them do anything to this spot.” This quilt-size patch of ground held too many sweet memories. They’d made love here under the sun and the moon, in scorching heat and cooling rain. They’d worked on the house plans here, had talked out problems with the motel here. She was convinced in her heart that they’d conceived their baby here.
As if he’d read her mind, Mick laid his hand over her belly. She was barely eight weeks along, according to the doctor. There was nothing to show, nothing to feel. Just an incredible sense of awe at what they’d created together from nothing but love.
“When are we going to tell them?” he asked, sliding his hand up to undo the top button of her dress.
“Tomorrow.”
“Sylvie will be pleased.”
“Thrilled,” she agreed as another button slipped open.
“Our mothers will cry.”
“And your father will be so proud.” Now her dress was open to her waist. He left the buttons and, instead, turned his attention to her bare breasts. His gentle caresses made them swell, made heat pump with her blood and desire gather in her belly. His kisses made her moan and shift restlessly.
She wriggled out of her clothing. He stripped off his, moved above her and filled her with one long, sure stroke. There was no hesitation, no fumbling over a condom, not even the thinnest barrier between them. It was just him, just her, together.
“Mick?” She cradled his face in her hands, and he pressed a kiss to her palm. “Remember the better life I was always looking for?”
His dark gaze locked with hers, he nodded.
“This is it. This is what I always wanted, what I always needed. Life. With you. Forever.”
Bending low, he brought his mouth to hers. “You and me. Sylvie and Merrilee. This baby and all the babies to follow. Together forever.” Then he kissed her, swallowing the words she whispered with love.
Together forever.
You won’t want to miss this wonderful author’s next
book. Look for Marilyn Pappano’s exciting debut in
Silhouette Special Edition this September!
ISBN : 978-1-4592-6551-6
THE OVERNIGHT ALIBI
Copyright © 1998 by Marilyn Pappano
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 300 East 42nd Street New York, NY 10017 U.S.A.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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Table of Contents
Table of Contents
“It’s still hard to tell if you’re the right woman. The one I’m looking for had
Letter to Reader
Books by Marilyn Pappano
About the Author
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue
Teaser chapter
Copyright
The Overnight Alibi Page 24