by Ginna Gray
She clutched his hands. "Oh, Max. He shot her. Some strange man shot her in—" she broke off, her chin quivering "—in the head."
"What?" Max felt as though he'd been hit in the solar plexus by a battering ram. He'd been told that his wife had been shot, but not where or how seriously.
Talitha was so dazed by her own grief that she didn't notice Max's shock.
"Why, Max? Why? Who could have done this to our Elizabeth? I don't know what I'll do if—"
"No. Don't say it. That won't happen. It can't." Max straightened and looked around at the others. "Has the hospital given you a report of any kind?"
Talitha dabbed at her eyes, too overcome once more to speak.
Dooley looked around at the others, but no one seemed inclined to answer Max's question. Dooley cleared his throat. "Well, sir, the doc came out a while back. He said that they were … uh…" Scratching the back of his head, Dooley looked at his wife. "How'd he put that?"
"He said that they were cautiously optimistic," Gladys finished for her husband.
"What about the baby?"
"The same. Cautiously optimistic."
"That's not good enough. Where is she? I want to see her."
"She's right across the hall in the first cubicle, the one with all the blinds drawn. But wait, son," Iona begged, holding on to his arm. "Listen to me. This is ICU. Visitation is limited to one person at a time, for ten minutes, every four hours."
"To hell with that."
Max marched across the hall and into the ICU cubicle. The others hurried after him and crowded together around the open door.
The startled nurse standing beside Elizabeth's bed looked up and said, "I'm sorry, sir. You'll have to leave."
Max ignored her and went to Elizabeth's side.
"Sir? Did you hear me?" The nurse started around the bed, making a shooing motion with her hands, and in her most commanding manner said, "I'm sorry, sir, but you'll have to leave. Visitation isn't for another two hours yet. And then only one person at a time is allow—"
"Fine. You leave. Because I'm sure as hell not." Max grasped the woman's upper arm and hustled her out of the room. At the door, the others parted and made way for her.
The woman huffed and straightened her uniform when he released her. "Well. We'll just see about this."
Mimi saw her chance and slipped inside and opened the blinds on the glassed-in room so that the others could see.
Max had already dismissed the nurse from his mind and returned to Elizabeth's side.
"Elizabeth?" He bent over her and took her hand in his, being ultra careful not to hurt her. Shock rippled through him at how pale she was. She had a huge bandage on her right shoulder, and her head was swathed in gauze from her ear upward. How much of her beautiful hair they had shaved away he couldn't tell.
As usual, Max reacted to the fear that was eating him alive with gruffness.
"Elizabeth? Elizabeth, wake up. Do you hear me? It's Max. Wake up. Right now, dammit!" he roared.
In the doorway, the others exchanged uneasy glances.
"Excuse me, please. Excuse me. All you people are going to have to get out of here." A doctor, followed by the nurse who had tried to keep Max out of the room, squeezed through the cluster of people and into the cubicle.
Again, the family eyed one another, but no one moved.
"Sir, I'm Dr. Alexander. I'm afraid I must ask you to leave."
"Ask all you want. I'm not going anywhere."
"Sir, I must insist."
"No," Max replied without taking his eyes from Elizabeth. "This is my wife. I'm not leaving her."
"Ah, Mr. Riordan, is it? Sir, I know that you're worried about your wife, but I must ask you to leave," the doctor explained. "Visiting is restricted to specified times and—"
Max turned his head slightly and slanted the doctor a look that stopped him in midsentence. "I don't give a tinker's damn about your rules. I'm not leaving this room until I know that my wife is going to be okay."
"Shall I call Security, Doctor?" the nurse asked.
Max narrowed his eyes at the woman. "Trust me, lady, you don't have enough security to kick me out of this room, but go ahead and call them if you want to start a melee." He turned his attention back to Elizabeth.
Standing in the doorway with the others, Aunt Talitha stiffened her back and thumped her cane on the tiled floor. The muffled sound failed to gain the attention of the nurse and doctor. Aggravated, she reached out with her cane and prodded the nurse in the back of one knee.
The nurse yelped when her leg buckled. "Oh! What…? Oh! How dare—"
"Oh, hush up. You're not hurt," Talitha snapped.
"Doctor," she said in her most patrician voice.
The sound of Talitha's voice caught Max's attention, and he glanced her way. She stood tall, her back almost ramrod straight, her chin up.
Max grinned.
"Are you familiar with the Stanton Wing of this hospital?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"And you, young woman?" she demanded of the outraged nurse.
"Yes. I am familiar with the Stanton Wing."
Talitha smiled her "Aha! Gotcha now!" smile.
"Good. And did you know that the Stanton family donated all the money to build the Stanton Wing? Or that your patient is the current head of the Stanton family?
"I thought not," Talitha continued when the nurse turned a sickly green. "Now, if her husband wants to stay by her side, he will. Do you understand?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"And you, Doctor?"
The doctor considered Talitha's stern expression and Max's dangerous one for only a moment. "It's all right, Nurse. Mr. Riordan can stay."
Max paid no attention to the doctor or the nurse or anyone else. No matter what they decided he was staying.
"Wake up, sweetheart," he said to Elizabeth. "Do you hear me? I said, wake up. Dammit, Elizabeth, don't you dare die on me!" he bellowed. "Don't you dare leave me alone. I couldn't bear to live without you." He waited a beat but got no response. "Dammit to hell, Elizabeth! I love you," he shouted. "Do you hear me? I love you."
Troy, who had been assigned by Max to deal with the police and the media, had joined the group only seconds before. He stood at the rear of the crowd in the open doorway, gaping. "Well, I'll be damned," he murmured to himself. "He's in love with her."
Iona shot him an exasperated look over her shoulder. "Of course he's in love with her. He married her, didn't he?"
"Listen to me, Elizabeth. You have to listen to me, dammit! I love you."
A tiny crease appeared between Elizabeth's eyebrows, and ever so slightly her head moved from side to side. "Don't … shout," she said in a barely audible whisper. "I … h-heard you."
"Did you hear that? Did you hear that?" Max exclaimed, looking around at the doctor.
"Well, now, let me have a look," the doctor said, stepping around to the other side of the bed. "Mrs. Riordan, can you hear me?"
"Y-yes," she whispered.
"Good. That's wonderful. I'm Dr. Alexander, by the way. You are at Methodist Hospital in Houston. You've been shot."
"Sh-shot?"
"Uh-huh. You may not remember right away, but it'll all come back to you later. Probably when the pain eases." Pulling a penlight from the pocket of his lab coat, the doctor pried one, then the other eyelid open and shined the light briefly into each of her eyes. "How do you feel? Do you hurt anywhere?"
"H-head. And … sh-shoulder."
"Your head hurts, does it? Well, I can't say I'm surprised. And even though you probably don't think so right now, you're very lucky that your head hurts and that you're here to feel it. Now, just relax while I examine you a bit more and have a talk with your husband. Okay?"
Elizabeth started to nod, then thought better of it and made an umm-hmm sound.
After a bit of gentle poking and prodding and listening through his stethoscope, Dr. Alexander looked at Max and gestured for the two of them to move away from the bed.
/> Max complied and the group of people at the door crowded around them. "It's all right. They're all family," he said, answering the doctor's questioning look. Dr. Alexander shrugged and spoke in a low tone.
"I wasn't just trying to make your wife feel better, Mr. Riordan. It could have been a lot worse. The bullet struck her head here," he said, demonstrating on Max. "Just above and behind her left ear. My guess is, she probably turned at the instant of impact. Or, if the first bullet was the one that struck her right shoulder, it spun her around to the right just in time. Either way, she was extremely lucky.
"We believe that both bullets were fired from a considerable distance, which also worked in her favor. The bullet to the head struck at such an angle that it penetrated the flesh, but due to the distance it lacked the force to pierce the bone beneath. Instead it scraped along between the outside of the skull and the flesh for about an inch and a half before exiting out the back. Which accounts for that bodacious headache.
"As for the shoulder wound, she was lucky there, also. The bullet didn't hit any major arteries or organs. She may have to undergo some physical therapy to get full range of movement back in that arm and shoulder, but that's no big thing."
"I … was … really shot?" Elizabeth asked, drawing everyone back to her bedside. She tried to open her eyes, but it was too much of an effort and the light made her head hurt.
"Yes. Can you recall anything that happened last night?"
"I … oh." Her breathing grew rapid. "Y-yes. That m-man from New … York. He … he… Oh, God. H-have to get out … hurry … he's coming…" Becoming agitated, she made desperate little noises and tried to sit up. Several monitors above her bed began to beep.
"Whoa, now, take it easy," the doctor and Max said in unison. The doctor put his hand on Elizabeth's arm. "Calm down, Elizabeth. You're safe now. No one is going to get in here. Just relax."
"Max. I w-want Max."
"I'm here, Elizabeth. I'm here. You're safe with me."
"Wh-where…?"
"Here." He took her hand and held it between both of his. "I'm right here with you. I won't leave."
"Pr-promise?"
"Absolutely."
She sighed and slumped back against the pillow, only to tense again. "My baby? Oh, God, Max, the baby—"
"Your baby is just fine, Mrs. Riordan," the doctor answered for Max. "He or she has weathered this a lot easier than you. And I don't want you worrying about what happened. You're safe here. When you're feeling better and are more able to cope it'll all come back. For now, I'm going to give you something for the pain."
He turned away and murmured instructions to the nurse, and the woman hurried from the room.
"Is she going to be all right?" Max demanded.
"For the next forty-eight hours we're going to keep her under close observation. However, if she continues to improve, tomorrow we'll move her to a VIP suite for the remainder of her stay." The doctor glanced at Talitha and winked. "One in the Stanton Wing. Barring any adverse developments, I'm confident that she'll be well enough to go home for Christmas."
"Oh, praise be," Talitha murmured.
"And what about the baby?" Mimi asked.
"I wasn't whitewashing things for your peace of mind, Mrs. Whittington. The fetus is doing great. We can thank the quick arrival of the paramedics for that. They got Elizabeth's bleeding stopped, and her IV and oxygen going in just minutes. As I understand it, they were already on the way when your wife was shot."
"That's right," Mimi said, her chest swelling with pride. "She may look as though she's made of Dresden china, but our girl has a backbone of steel. One of the policemen who responded told me that the call had come in from Elizabeth herself. While she was tearing barefoot across the frozen grass in her nightie she still had the presence of mind to call 911 and give her name and address and report that a man had broken in and was shooting at her."
"Yeah." Dooley nodded his head. "One of 'em said he heard the gunfire before they even got to the house. Said it sounded like they were entering a war zone."
Max frowned. "How many people were shooting?"
"Well, sir." Dooley mulled that over, scratching the back of his head again. "There was that big guy who was chasing Miss Elizabeth. Miss Mimi, she nicked him with that .357 Magnum of hers. Plus she got off another couple of shots to scare him. And I got him in the rump with a barrel of bird shot from my old blunderbuss shotgun."
"Good grief." Max looked from Mimi to Dooley, then back. "Tomorrow I'm going to want a minute-by-minute account of everything that happened. And I mean everything. Not the abridged or sanitized version you gave the police."
Mimi gave him a "butter wouldn't melt in her mouth" smile. "Who me? Now, would I withhold information from our boys in blue?"
"In a heartbeat, if you thought it would help Elizabeth."
Mimi looked him in the eye. "Damn straight. But as it so happens, I told them the honest to God truth. And by the way, stud, expect a Detective Braddock to contact you soon. He's the one in charge of this case."
"Ah-hem," Dr. Alexander interrupted. "As I was saying, as long as our mother-to-be continues to regain strength and health, I see no reason why both of them shouldn't come through this just fine."
"Thank the Lord," Aunt Talitha murmured, one bony old hand over her heart.
The nurse returned with a syringe, but when she started to inject its contents into Elizabeth's IV, her patient became fearful and tried to draw away.
"It's okay, Elizabeth," the doctor said in a soothing tone. "We're just giving you some medication that should ease that headache," the doctor informed her. "You rest and let your body heal itself. The nurses will be in to check your vital signs every twenty minutes or so."
To Max he said, "She'll probably sleep once that pain medication kicks in. If you'd like, you can go home and get some rest. You look a bit frayed around the edges yourself."
"I'm staying," Max stated, his look daring the doctor to object.
Dr. Alexander merely smiled and shrugged. "Suit yourself. But the rest of you people are going to have to leave," he ordered, shooing out the family and friends.
As the crowd reluctantly shuffled out the door, Elizabeth's hand fluttered in Max's.
"M-Max?"
He bent over her, gently stroking what was left of her hair back from her face. "Yeah, baby. I'm here. What is it?"
"I … I … love you … too," she whispered, and drifted off to sleep.
Max gazed at her, his chest so tight he could barely breathe.
The first thing Elizabeth saw when she opened her eyes the next morning was Max. He sat beside the bed in a chair, bent forward, his head resting on his folded arms on the mattress beside her hips. He was sound asleep.
His face was turned toward her. Elizabeth took the opportunity to study him. His long lashes lay like fans on his craggy cheekbones. A hint of a smile curved her mouth. They were probably the only things about him that were remotely feminine.
The lower half of his face was dark with whisker stubble and his black hair was tousled. Fatigue and worry made the scar that cut diagonally across his face more prominent. At some time he had shed his suit coat and tie. His sleeves were rolled up, the top two buttons of his shirt open. He looked rumpled and strained, worry lines cutting deep into his tough face.
Elizabeth tried to move her right hand, but it hurt her shoulder too much. She stared at the top of her husband's head, his mussed black hair, the events of the previous evening coming back as her head cleared.
She glanced around at the glass walls and the door, both covered with blinds that were currently closed. She remembered the doctor telling her that she was safe. But was she? A shadow on the other side of the door moved and she caught her breath. Immediately a monitor above her head started beeping.
Max's head shot up off the mattress. "What? What is it?"
Two nurses came into the room at a run. "What's wrong, Mrs. Riordan? Are you hurting?"
"No. No, I just
thought I saw…"
"What?" Max demanded.
"I thought I saw someone at the door, is all. I guess I imagined it."
"No, you didn't," Max said. He rubbed a weary hand over his eyes. "You probably saw the guards I hired. They're off-duty policemen." He went to the door and opened it. "Officers, would you step in here a moment? Honey, this is Officer Murphy and Officer Palowski."
Elizabeth traded polite greetings with the young uniformed policemen and thanked them for protecting her.
"They're doing the three-until-eleven shift," Max explained. "At eleven, two more officers will take their place and be here until seven, and two more will work from seven until three."
"So I'll have around-the-clock guards. For how long?"
"As long as you need them. Take a good long look at them, Elizabeth," her husband ordered. "I want you to know all of your guards on sight, so no one can sneak in here posing as a police officer."
Elizabeth's eyes widened. "Do you think he'll come here?"
"No. I don't think he'll be that brazen. Or that dumb. It's just a precaution."
"I see."
Shifting from one foot to the other, the two young policemen exchanged an uneasy glance. "Uh, Mr. Riordan, may we speak to you outside?" Officer Murphy asked.
"What is it?" Elizabeth demanded. "What's going on? Has something happened?"
"No, ma'am," Officer Palowski assured her with a sincere but guilty smile. "Just a little scheduling problem we need to go over with your husband."
Elizabeth started to say they could do that in front of her, but the three men stepped outside before she could.
Once the door closed behind them, Officer Murphy looked around and lowered his voice. "This may be nothing, Mr. Riordan, but I thought you should know."
"Yeah. Go on," Max said, impatient to get back to Elizabeth.
"Well, sir. About seven this morning, a man carrying a huge bouquet of flowers came to see your wife."
That caught Max's attention. A crease formed between his thick eyebrows. "A man? What man? Did he give his name?"