by Rebecca Deel
Grace suspected he would. Relief swept through her at his words. “Thank you, Zane.”
“Glad to be of assistance. When Trent is back on his feet, tell him to bring you to Nashville. I’m looking forward to meeting you.”
“I’d like that. Should I keep our call connected?”
“Until you’re in the helicopter. I’ve also notified Weston and Barton. They will arrive at Satterfield’s cabin within the hour to start processing the crime scene. Heads up, though. They were not happy no one had notified them of your kidnapping.”
Yeah? She hadn’t been too thrilled about that fact herself. Her face felt hot and swollen. No doubt she looked like a battered woman. “Have you talked to Adam? What happened to Clarice?”
“He didn’t have a problem capturing her. She’s currently trussed to the trunk of a tree with plenty of duct tape. Adam assured me she wasn’t going anywhere.”
“Good. I’m putting the phone back in my pocket now.”
“Give me regular updates, sugar.”
Grace adjusted her hold for a firmer grip on Trent. “Zane is sending a helicopter. You’ll be at the hospital soon.”
Instead of replying, Trent groaned and sank to his knees, taking Grace with him.
“Trent!” When he started to keel over, she braced him with her shoulder and eased him to the ground. “Sweetheart, talk to me.” Nothing. Grace checked his pulse.
She dug out her phone again. “Zane, I need Adam. Trent’s down and his pulse is weak.”
“Copy that.”
Agonizing minutes later, Adam ran full tilt from the thick trees. “Grace!” The other operative crouched beside Trent. “The SUV is just over that ridge. Go. I’ll be right behind you with Trent.”
Grace leaped to her feet and started toward the trees at a fast clip. In less than a minute, Adam caught up with her, Trent over one shoulder with his arms hanging limp.
“Pick up the pace. Helo’s waiting.”
She broke into a jog, praying she didn’t face plant on the rock-strewn ground. With her eye almost swollen shut, her depth perception was off. Finally, they broke out of the line of trees. The SUV was parked fifty feet in front of them.
Once Adam settled Trent in the backseat, Grace climbed inside and knelt beside him to keep him from rolling onto the floor. The tires squealed as Adam raced to the landing site.
Trent’s eyelids lifted slightly. “Grace,” he whispered.
“I’m here. You’ll be fine, baby.” She would accept nothing else. He was the other half of her soul. “We’ll be at the hospital in a few minutes.”
He blinked, frowned. “He hurt you.”
“Yes. Soft tissue damage. I’ll heal.”
“Make sure the doc checks you out.”
“I will. I promise.”
A slight nod and his eyes closed again.
“Trent?”
Silence.
“Almost there,” Adam murmured. “Two minutes. I’ll load him into the helo, then head back to Satterfield’s place. I need to meet the cops on site. Rio will be at the hospital soon. He’ll take over the protection detail.”
“Thank you, Adam. For everything.”
“Anytime, sweetheart. Make sure I receive an invitation to the wedding.”
Her eyes stung with tears. “I’m planning to marry this man as soon as possible.”
“Good. He deserves the best, and that’s you.”
She gave a watery laugh. “Our wedding pictures will look a fright. My face is bruised and swollen, and there’s no telling what shape Trent will be in. But I don’t want to wait anymore.” Grace wanted the right to claim the St. Claire name, to come home at night to the man she loved when he wasn’t deployed.
“So take the wedding pictures later after you’ve healed. I’m sure my sister would be thrilled to take them for you.”
Zane’s wife was a photographer? Perfect. “That’s a great idea.”
“I’ll talk to her, ask if she’ll put some ideas together for your photo shoot. Claire is a creative genius when it comes to pictures.”
Seconds later, Adam parked. He opened the back door and hoisted Trent over his shoulder again and carted him to the waiting helicopter. After settling him inside, Adam placed her beside Trent, closed the door, and moved away from the helicopter.
And then she and Trent were airborne. Grace watched over him on the fifteen-minute flight, and prayed.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Grace paced the waiting room, sick with worry and so antsy she couldn’t sit still. Trent had been in the exam room with the doctor for what seemed like forever. She knew the ER staff were working as fast as possible to evaluate him and still her skin crawled with the overwhelming need to rush into the room and demand an update. But she didn’t work here and at the moment she’d be in their way. After his surgery, though, Grace intended to play the almost-wife card and camp out by his bed. No one would force her to leave his side.
Footsteps had her spinning on her heel. Grace’s gaze locked with the nurse she’d made friends with over the past few days. She hurried to the other woman’s side. “How is he?”
“Headed for surgery in a minute. Want to see him before they take him?”
Too choked up to speak, she nodded and trailed her friend. Trent’s eyes were closed when Grace reached his bedside. After scanning the monitors showing his vitals and finding the results reassuring, she clasped the hand of his uninjured arm between her palms. “Trent.”
He stirred. “Baby? You okay?” His words were soft, slurred. The love of her life didn’t handle drugs well. The cocktail the doctor had given him in preparation for surgery had hit him hard.
“I’m safe, sweetheart. Don’t worry about me. The doctor is going to take good care of you. The next time I see you will be in recovery after they repair your shoulder.”
“See a doctor?”
Her lips curved. Her SEAL had a one-track mind. “Not yet.”
Trent’s brow knitted.
“I’ll have one of the doctors check me while you’re in surgery. It will help distract me.”
The lines of his forehead smoothed. “Stay with me,” he murmured.
She trailed her fingers over Trent’s cheek. “You just try and get rid of me, St. Claire. You asked me to marry you on that mountain and I’m holding you to it.”
The orderlies came in to take him to the surgical floor. Grace leaned down and brushed a kiss over Trent’s lips. “I love you. I’ll be by your side when you wake up, love.”
“Love you.” And he succumbed to the medication.
Blinking back tears, she stepped to the side and watched the orderlies maneuver the bed from the room and into the elevator. Knowing he’d be angry with her if she didn’t take care of herself, Grace found her friend and asked to see a physician. Minutes later, she was ushered into the same exam room where Trent had been.
A redhead hurried inside the room. “Ms. Rutledge, I’m Dr. Karen Lively. I understand you were a kidnapping victim.”
“That’s right.”
Dr. Lively studied Grace’s face. “Did the police rescue you or did you escape on your own?”
“My boyfriend rescued me.”
“Wow. Is he a cop?”
Grace considered what she could say to answer the woman’s question without compromising Trent’s safety and decided on a partial truth. “Military.”
“Did your boyfriend hurt you, Ms. Rutledge?”
“Absolutely not. Trent would never lay a hand on me in anger. Detectives Weston and Barton with the Dumas PD are aware of the kidnapping. Verify my story with them.” Grace realized Dr. Lively was looking out for her best interests, but she hated that the other woman believed the worst of Trent even for a moment.
When she returned to the waiting room, she had confirmation of what she already suspected. Soft tissue damage. More bruises to add to the collection she already had from the car accident. Painful, but temporary. Grace dropped into the nearest seat to wait for word on the ou
tcome of the surgery.
Twenty minutes later, Rio and Darcy walked into the room. “Grace!”
Grace stood and found herself enveloped in a tight hug. “Darcy, it’s my fault. I’m so sorry.” Her voice broke on the last word.
“You didn’t shoot my brother,” Darcy said as she released Grace.
“He was injured protecting me.”
Rio wrapped his arm around her shoulder and hugged her to his side. “Grace, Trent would do it again in a heartbeat. No one means more to him than you. From what Zane said, you saved my brother-in-law’s life. If you hadn’t been there, he would have bled out in that parking lot. We owe you a debt we’ll never be able to repay.”
His gentle words set off a cascade of tears that Grace couldn’t stem no matter how hard she tried. Rio nudged her back into her seat. Darcy sat beside her and gathered her close. When the storm of tears passed, Rio crouched in front of her with a bottle of water. “Drink. You’re dehydrated.” Rio handed a second one to his wife. He waited until Grace drank a quarter of the liquid before he asked, “How long has Trent been in surgery?”
“Over an hour.” Seemed longer. “He lost a lot of blood, was weak, and still he fought off Ron Satterfield and rappelled down a cliff with me holding on for dear life.” She’d never felt so helpless and useless in her life. She couldn’t do anything to assist him in saving their lives.
“He never does anything half way.” Darcy patted Grace’s hand.
A scrubs-clad man with a surgical cap came into the room. “St. Claire family?”
The three of them stood.
“Mr. St. Claire is in recovery. The bullet did quite a bit of damage in there. He’ll need therapy to regain full motion.”
“Recovery time?” Rio asked.
“Four to six months at least, maybe longer. Depends on how he responds to treatment and his diligence in doing the exercises. We have several physical therapists we recommend. All of them are local and some do in-home therapy if he prefers that.”
“We’ll line up the physical therapy. We’re not from Dumas.” He held out his hand. “Thank you.”
With a nod, the doctor said, “You can see him now. One of the nurses at the desk will tell you where to go.”
He was going to recover. Tension drained from her muscles. Extended therapy, but he’d recover. Grace intended to make sure he did every exercise, rested, and ate properly.
“Wait here,” Rio murmured. He went to the desk and spoke to the nurse. Armed with instructions, he led Grace and Darcy to the bank of elevators.
In the recovery room, Trent occupied the third bed to the right. Grace dried her tears with the sleeve of her shirt, not wanting to alarm Trent if he was aware enough to notice them. She trailed her fingers lightly over his cheek. “Trent?”
He sighed, nuzzled her hand. “Grace.”
“I’m here, love. So are Rio and Darcy.”
A slight frown. His eyelids raised a fraction. “Darce?”
“Hey.” His sister clasped his hand. “Laying down on the job, huh?”
“Shouldn’t be here. You hate hospitals.”
“Simple solution to that problem, bro. Stop being injured and I won’t have to keep coming.”
His lips curved slightly as he drifted off again. For the next hour, Grace and the others talked quietly. She brought them up to speed on the events of the past twenty-four hours. Rio answered phone calls and texts from Trent’s boss, his teammates, and his friends.
Finally, Trent was moved to a private room. When his eyes grew heavy again, Grace said, “I’m going to check on Nic and Mason. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He flicked a glance at Rio.
“No.” The medic’s jaw clenched. “I’m not leaving you. Between the two of you, you’re more vulnerable than she is right now.”
“I’ll stay with St. Claire,” a deep masculine voice said from the doorway. “Go with Grace, Rio.”
Grace’s gaze locked with icy blue eyes. The buzz-cut blond man strode into the room as if he owned it. One of Trent’s teammates? No. Somehow he wore authority like a second skin. Could this be Brent Maddox, the man Trent worked for?
Rio’s eyebrows soared. “I thought you were in Washington, D.C. this week, Maddox.”
“Cut out early when I heard about Trent’s injury. Go check on your cousin, Rio.”
“Yes, sir.” He looked at his wife. “You staying here?”
She shook her head. “I want to see for myself that Mason is all right. The Kincaid men tend to blow off injuries.”
Rio grinned instead of denying what all of them knew to be the truth.
The three of them went to Nic’s room and found Mason sitting in a chair by her bedside, his hand wrapped around hers. The construction worker’s face filled with fury when he saw Grace. “Who hurt you?”
Nic’s head snapped around. She gasped. “What happened?”
“Long story.”
“Sit down and talk. I’m not going anywhere.”
Grace gave her sister the condensed version of events, ending with, “The good news is Trent will be all right. He’ll need extensive therapy, though.”
“You could have been killed,” Mason said.
“That was Ron’s intent.” She shuddered. “I thought I was going to die when he threw me off the cliff.” An experience she would be reliving in her nightmares for years to come. She might have to take Trent up on his offer to find her a trauma counselor.
“So what happens now?”
“Adam met the detectives at Ron’s cabin. According to him, Weston and Barton arrested Clarice and are collecting evidence. Zane supplied them with a copy of the recording he made from my phone call to him. Clarice and Ron said plenty to incriminate themselves and prove we had nothing to do with the crimes dogging our steps.”
“We can go back to Otter Creek now?” Mason asked.
“After the detectives take our statements. I’m ready to see the last of this town.” Grace eyed her sister. “What about you, Nic? You planning to return to Otter Creek?”
Nicole’s expression darkened. “I can take as long as I want to recover.”
“What’s wrong, Nic?”
“I lost my job. My former boss said he can’t have an employee who isn’t dependable or responsible.”
Rio whistled softly.
Oh, man. Grace’s heart hurt for her sister. “I’m sorry. Why don’t you stay at my apartment for a while? Heal while you decide what your next move is.” She wasn’t above a little matchmaking. The relationship between Mason and Nicole would grow much slower if they lived in different towns.
Nic glanced at Mason who winked at her. She turned back to Grace. “I’ve been thinking about a career change.” She gave a short laugh. “Would have been an easier choice if I had the five million from Mrs. Bowen.”
“We’ll find it,” Rio said. “I’ll ask Zane to start searching. He can follow any electronic trail. What would you do with the money?”
“Tell them what you’ve been considering,” Mason encouraged.
“I’d like to open a pet grooming business in Otter Creek.” Silence greeted her statement. Nic glanced nervously from one to the other. “I haven’t seen one in town when I visited Grace. Do you think anyone would be interested in a local shop?”
“You have experience in pet grooming?” Rio asked.
“I spent every summer in college working in the grooming department of a local pet shop. Now, I work part-time as a groomer. I don’t really need the money. I have a lot of fun working with the animals.”
“I think it’s a great idea,” Darcy said, her smile wide. “PSI is training search and rescue dogs. The handlers will love having a local place manned by someone the staff at PSI trusts.”
“I’ve heard more than one person complaining about having to take their pets to another town for grooming.” Rio looked thoughtful. “I say go for it. We’ll spread the word for you.”
“But won’t the police need the money Ron took as e
vidence of his crime?”
“Maybe. Fortress has a lot of pull. We’ll see if we can’t get around that problem.” He laid his hand on Nic’s shoulder. “In the meantime, I’d start making a business plan and planning your move to Otter Creek.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
“What does the doc say about your shoulder?” Maddox asked, his intense gaze locked on Trent. He lounged back in the chair beside Trent’s hospital bed.
“I’ll regain full motion, but I’ll need extensive rehab.”
“Recovery time?”
“Maybe six months.” Less if he had anything to say about it. The possibility of being off work that length of time made his gut rebel.
“Where do you plan to recuperate?”
“Otter Creek.” Trent hadn’t hesitated. He’d missed Grace so much on this last deployment he wouldn’t give up extra time with her, banged up shoulder or not.
Maddox was silent a moment, watching him with rapt attention. “Would you be open to a reassignment?”
Trent blinked, his throat tightening. “Sir?” Was Maddox going to saddle him with a desk job?
“The dorms on PSI’s campus will be finished in a couple weeks. I plan to double the size of our classes. To do that, I need another unit like Durango to help with the training. Cahill and his team can use the assistance. You interested?”
He stared. Stay in Otter Creek permanently? Darcy would be over the moon. And Grace? Man, he couldn’t wait to see her face when he told her. “Permanent reassignment?” he asked to be sure.
“Yes. You and your team would rotate missions with Durango so one of the teams is always in residence at PSI. If the demand for our services continues to grow at the current pace, I’ll soon be adding a third team on site.”
“Why us? Why not a different team?”
“Because your heart’s in Otter Creek, Trent, and I can’t afford to burn out my best units. Your team and Durango have been going out on too many missions. PSI has two teams graduating from the program in a week with another five gearing up to start training the week after.”