He whirled around, his body poised for attack, his aggression, frustration, and fury tearing across his face in waves. When her identity registered, he went still. “Jasmine? What are you doing here?” Disbelief edged his voice.
The urge to go to him, apologize, and hold him close appalled her. She had no right. This was her fault. “I’m so sorry, Luke. I shouldn’t be here, but I just couldn’t wait at home. I had to know how Gabe’s doing.”
Luke shoved his hand through his hair. “He’s still in surgery. No news.” He paced the room like a caged beast, body taut, ready to ambush anyone who dared bring him bad news.
Unable to watch him in so much pain, she followed her instincts, stood, and reached out a hand to clutch his arm. “Can I find your mother, your brothers? You need your family with you now.”
He said nothing, just stared at her as if he couldn’t believe she had the audacity to even breathe the same air he did. Expecting rejection, she turned to leave.
Luke grabbed her arm and spun her to him. “God help me, Jasmine. You’re what I need.”
He yanked her to him, the hard muscles of his body shaking with emotion she’d never seen in him before. He buried his face in her hair and she could do nothing but stand there, holding him, not knowing how to comfort this kind of grief.
“Just this,” he whispered. “Give me a minute.”
In all the time they’d spent together, she’d seen him frustrated, strong, intense, smoldering, but this was unfamiliar territory. She raised an unsteady hand and stroked his hair.
“It’s bad,” Luke’s voice choked out the words. “He was so gray. I’ve seen that look too many times on men who didn’t make it.” He lifted his head and his bloodshot eyes bored into her. “The doctors aren’t hopeful. I saw it on their faces.”
Jazz didn’t want to hear that. She refused to believe Gabe wouldn’t survive. “He’s strong.”
“Strength doesn’t always matter. My dad was invincible—at least I thought so. Then on his day off he walks into a convenience store and some punk kid with a stolen .45 blows a hole in his chest.” Luke’s jaw tightened. “My father died in this hospital. I’m not sure my mother can handle another doctor coming in with the same news.”
Jazz didn’t know how to respond, so she just wrapped her arms tighter and whispered words as much for herself as for him. “Gabe’ll make it. He’s got to.”
Luke’s cheek rested against her head and he pressed her even closer. They stood there, in silence, unmoving.
“Luke? Jasmine? Oh, dear God. What’s happened?”
The woman’s panicked voice wrenched Jazz from Luke’s arms. She recognized the Irish lilt. Luke’s mother stood in the doorway, her pale face tense with concern. Anna Montgomery hurried toward them, followed closely by Luke’s U.S. marshal brother, Nick.
In an instant Jazz watched as Luke thrust aside his own emotions. His jaw strong and eyes calm he pulled his mother into his arms and hugged her close. “Gabe’s still in surgery, but he’s fighting. I’ve left messages for Seth. He’s on a mission, and Zach’s on location in South America. The studio will get in touch with him as soon as possible.”
Anna nodded her head against Luke’s chest as he comforted her, whispering words Jazz knew he didn’t believe. Jazz backed away toward the exit. She really should have listened to Sarge. She didn’t belong here.
“Jasmine.” Anna’s soft voice stopped Jazz, and slowly she turned to face Gabe’s mother. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I am so sorry.”
Tears pooled in Anna’s emerald eyes, and Jazz couldn’t hold her gaze. Shame bowed her head. Anna cupped Jazz’s face in her hands and the smile that trembled at the corner of her lips nearly buckled Jazz.
“I know you did everything you could, honey. Gabe knows too.”
Jazz wanted to scream in denial. No. It’s not true. I missed the shot. I failed him. But she couldn’t form the words, and she couldn’t pull away. Anna held her tight and Jazz’s heart crumbled as, unimaginably, Anna comforted her.
Luke’s hand stroked Jazz’s back, and an undeserved warmth settled over her in this unexpected cocoon. She wanted to cry. She needed to leave before she broke under their kindness. Before she could escape, though, a large bear-like man strode in, his arms laden with a bundle of pink. Caleb Montgomery couldn’t have looked more fierce, except that his eyes moved tenderly from the sleeping child to his mother. The blanket fell away from the angel’s face and Jazz’s throat tightened. Joy.
Luke strode to Caleb and lifted his little girl into his arms. “You shouldn’t have brought her.”
“We didn’t have anywhere else to leave her,” Caleb whispered. “The Baileys are on vacation, and I…I had to come. We’ll worry about the hospital kicking us out later.”
Luke swallowed and pushed aside the soft blond curls. He kissed her forehead and ran a tender finger down her cheek. “Jasmine, meet Joy.”
The gentleness in Luke’s expression and touch squeezed Jazz’s heart. She’d never seen such love in anyone’s eyes. She’d never felt that kind of love either.
Anna held out her arms, and Luke shifted the precious bundle to his mother. The little girl snuggled against her grandmother’s chest, the stuffed clown fish tucked in her arms. Silent tears fell down the woman’s cheeks as she stroked Joy’s blond curls. Now three generations waited for word.
Caleb turned to Luke. “Gabe?”
“I’m ready to break down doors. No news since the last specialist went into surgery.”
Caleb’s face turned grim with purpose. “We’ll see about that. I still have M.D. after my name even if I don’t have hospital privileges here anymore.”
Jazz hovered and turned to the exit, but Luke firmly drew her down beside him as if there were no question she belonged there. “Stay.”
Guilt wracked her, but she couldn’t leave. Not when she owed the Montgomery family for what she’d let happen to Gabe.
Within minutes, Caleb returned, his expression somber. “It’s grim. They called in a vascular surgeon. He’s lost a lot of blood. They’re not sure how much muscle and nerve damage there might be. He may not regain full use of his leg…if they’re able to save it.”
Nausea burned Jazz’s throat. She wanted to disappear, but then she witnessed something remarkable. With quiet grace, Anna pulled a string of rosary beads from her jacket pocket and bowed her head. In an oddly synchronous movement, all three strong men knelt beside her.
Soon low whispered prayers filtered through the waiting room. Jazz wished she knew how to pray for Gabe, but, growing up as she did, every ritual the Montgomery family performed in this sterile room was foreign to her.
So she simply bowed her head. Please. Save him.
A chilled breeze sliced along the hill next to the hospital, thrashing the piñon needles into a frenzy. Jazz Parker had looked devastated as she’d walked in.
Good. The bitch deserved that—and more.
The plan had been brilliant. Just a little turn of a knob, and Jazz Parker was a pariah.
One missed shot, and the SWAT team didn’t trust her anymore. How wonderful it would’ve been to watch the cops scurrying around like rats wondering what’d happened to their precious plan. Fools. They should’ve known when they hired the daughter of a town whore that she’d fail. Jazz Parker—no, Jane Sanford—couldn’t be trusted. She was a thief and a liar. Always had been. Always would be.
If only the cop would die. That would be perfect. If not, the hospital entrance was an open invitation. Death could be arranged. There were a lot of ways to die in a hospital.
Yes, Jane would feel pain like she’d never felt before. Pain she deserved. Someone Jane cared about would die.
Justice had a name, and it was vengeance.
Luke didn’t know how long his family and Jasmine had waited, but midnight had come and gone. He’d prided himself on patience in the field, but when it came to those he loved, he had none. The doctor’s face had appeared more and more gri
m each time he’d updated them. All Luke could think about was his brother surviving. Then his mind would veer to tracking down the thug who’d done this to Gabe and snapping the guy into pieces.
“Daddy?”
At his daughter’s sleepy voice, Luke shifted in his chair and shoved aside the stark thoughts of retribution. He couldn’t let Joy sense the violent rage vibrating beneath the surface. Burying his emotions, he knelt beside the little girl, who’d fallen asleep using his mother’s lap as a pillow. Tenderly he brushed the hair from his daughter’s eyes. “Why are you awake, munchkin? The sun’s still asleep.”
The girl rubbed her eyes. “Where’s my bed? I thought Uncle Caleb was taking me home.”
“Daddy needed to be here, so Uncle Caleb brought you to me.”
Joy’s nose wrinkled up and Luke watched as her mysterious little brain processed the information. Sometimes he would just sit and watch as she discovered a new fact about the world and marvel at the capacity of a human being to grow and adapt. She gave him hope that good things existed in this world. Now he prayed she would be spared from learning the lesson of death much too soon. He still hadn’t figured out a way to explain her mother’s death to her. She knew she didn’t have a mommy because her mommy was in Heaven, but she didn’t remember Samantha, and that made it easier. For now.
“Is it church day? Is Uncle Gabe here too?”
“Uncle Gabe is sleeping right now, munchkin.”
“But I’m awake, and I want to play with him.” She threw her blankets aside and plopped down off her grandmother’s lap. “Wake him up, Daddy. He won’t mind.” Joy hugged her stuffed clown fish to her. “Me and Hero want to fly to Uncle Gabe.”
“He can’t wake up right now, Joy.” Luke’s voice turned gruff. “You remember when we went to the park last Saturday?”
“You bought me a red balloon.” Her expression brightened.
“And remember when you slid down the slide?”
Her lips turned down and trembled. She lifted her elbow and pointed to the faint cut that had almost healed. “I hurt myself.”
Luke nodded. “Well, something like that happened to Uncle Gabe, so he’s with the doctor who’s fixing him.”
Joy placed her small hands on either side of Luke’s face and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “Will he get a shot?”
“He might. He has a big hurt, Joy.”
“You’ll kiss it and make it better?”
Joy’s words held such conviction that Luke wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair, inhaling the fresh scent of baby shampoo. “I love you, baby.”
Her lips pursed against his cheek, and she blew a butterfly kiss then squirmed in his arms. “Let me go, Daddy. You’re squishing me.”
“Sorry, munchkin.” Reluctantly Luke released his daughter.
In little bunny slippers, she explored her new surroundings. She padded over to her uncles and one by one patted them on the cheek when they lifted her up. Luke’s heart warmed. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve Joy in his life, but he thanked God every day for her.
Then Joy’s attention shifted to Jasmine’s hair. The little girl’s eyes widened in obvious awe. She stretched out a tentative hand toward the long, blond braid brushing Jasmine’s thigh.
“Are you Rap…Rap…” Joy glanced over her shoulder at her grandmother. “What’s the name of the princess with the long hair?”
“Rapunzel?” Anna’s voice was soft and laced with a smile.
Joy leaned closer to Jasmine. “Did you have to cut your hair when you escaped?” she whispered, her voice conspiratorial.
Jasmine’s panicked gaze flew to Luke’s, but his daughter refused to be ignored. She stroked the shimmers of blond bound by the braid. “Were you scared when you ran away from the wicked witch?”
Confusion painted Jasmine’s face. “What witch?”
“The one who stole you from your mommy and daddy,” Joy said as if the answer was obvious.
A shaft of pain flashed in Jasmine’s eyes, and Luke winced. He knew very little about her childhood, but it couldn’t have been easy since she’d wiped away not only her name, but her entire identity. For all he knew she had escaped from a wicked witch. “Joy, don’t bother Jasmine. She’s sad right now.”
Joy’s eyes widened with alarm. “Are you going to cry? Do you need your mommy and daddy?”
Luke could see Jasmine struggling to maintain composure, her hands clenched in her lap. “I don’t have a mommy and daddy, Joy.”
“Who tucks you in at night?”
Luke stepped forward to pull Joy away, but his daughter’s wrinkled forehead made him pause. He could tell she was working some problem out in her unique three-year-old mind.
She looked down at Hero and then up at Jasmine. “Is it scary at bedtime?”
Jasmine blanched. The sniper was gone. A vulnerable woman had replaced her. She tried to smile at Joy. “Sometimes.”
“I get scared too,” his daughter said, leaning in to Jasmine. “I don’t like the dark,” Joy whispered.
“Me either.” Jasmine’s hand shook; her eyes turned haunted. “I…uh…have to go now.”
“Wait.” Joy lifted her chin and stuck out both hands, cradling the well-worn orange and white fish. “You can have Hero. He’ll keep you safe.”
Then Luke saw something he’d never seen before. Jasmine’s eyes glistened and she bit her lip.
“I can’t take Hero. He belongs to you.”
That stubborn Montgomery glint shone in his daughter’s eyes. “It’s okay. I have Daddy and Gamma and Uncle Gabe and Uncle Caleb and Uncle Seth and Uncle Nick. And I even have Uncle Zach. He’s the Dark Avenger,” she whispered. “He flies and catches bad guys.”
Helplessly, Jazz glanced at Luke. “What should I—?”
“Take good care of him. He needs lotsa hugs every day.” Joy shoved Hero into Jasmine’s arms. With a small hiccup Joy ran past Luke and into her grandmother’s arms.
Jazz stared at the stuffed toy. “I…uh…don’t know what to say.” Her voice had gone hoarse. “Th-thank you, Joy.”
A thunder of footsteps echoing down the hall nearly drowned Jazz’s words. Gabe’s teammates filled the opening of the waiting room.
Sarge stood framed in the doorway and studied the situation before stepping inside. He strode across the room and nodded his head in greeting. “Mrs. Montgomery.”
She stroked the blond hair of the child resting in her lap. “Sergeant Carder. Thank you for coming.”
“How’s Gabe doing?”
The rest of the team moved forward and shed curious glances at Jasmine.
“He’s still in surgery. It’ll be a while,” said Luke.
As the team shifted to offer their best wishes to his family, Luke watched Jasmine draw away from them. No one came toward her. Couldn’t they see what they were doing to her? Each second they were in this room ignoring her devastated her even more. As it was, she retreated inwardly, inch by inch, before his eyes.
She dug into her pocket, obviously going for a Life Saver. He hated seeing her like this. If it weren’t for his mother and daughter, he’d knock a few of these idiots into doing the right thing. As it was, he’d have to be covert.
He pulled Paretti aside. “What the hell does your team think it’s doing, treating Jasmine like the enemy?”
Paretti grimaced. “We tried. She distanced herself. As usual.”
“Well, try harder. You all should be supporting her. Gabe told me you wouldn’t fight for her. I didn’t believe him until now. Guess I’ll be the one standing by her since her teammates are too cowardly.”
“Step back, Luke. You don’t get it. There are a few jerks on the team, but most of them wanted to give her a chance. Have given her more than one. She pushed us away. Makes it hard to watch her back.”
“Still—”
“Her shot was over a foot wide with no possibility of deflection,” Paretti snapped. “The whole operation cratered. Gabe assumed the ta
rget was down. Instead he caught the bastard’s knife.”
Luke stared at Jasmine, who’d turned her back to the team and still sat alone, almost shrinking into the chair. Snipers could miss a target. It was unusual, but not unprecedented. A foot wide, though? He’d never heard of a shot that far off in all his years overseas.
And Jasmine being off that much. He didn’t buy it. The only other option made his stomach knot. Sabotage. He’d been inside the SWAT den. The weapons were locked up, access limited to members of the sheriff’s office. Proof of corruption, perhaps? Jasmine and Gabe might both be victims of the cancer spreading through the ranks.
“She doesn’t miss. Ever.” Luke spoke the words loudly enough that a couple of SWAT team members turned their heads.
“She missed tonight,” Paretti said under his breath.
Luke caught Jasmine’s expression and knew she’d heard at least part of the exchange. She carefully cradled Hero in her arms, stood, and, with her shoulders hunched, walked out of the room without saying a word to anyone.
“Shoot,” Paretti muttered, “Maybe I—”
Luke stopped him with a glance. “Don’t bother. If you want to do any good, talk some sense into your so-called team. I’ll go.”
He sent a quick glance from Joy to his mother. She nodded her understanding. Joy would be okay. His mother would see to that.
Luke stalked out of the waiting room and didn’t pause for the elevator. He plowed down the stairs two-by-two until he reached the lower floor just in time to see her exit the glass revolving doors at the hospital entrance. Luke broke into a run, ignoring the censure of the white-haired gargoyle guarding the information booth.
When he finally shoved outside, the woman he’d raced after had already crossed the parking lot.
“Jasmine!” he yelled.
She didn’t slow down, and he sprinted after her. When he caught up to her, he spun her into his arms and pulled her close. She shoved against his chest, but he wouldn’t let her go. He pinned her to him, unwilling to release her.
“Let me go, Luke. Your family needs you.”
In Her Sights Page 8