Colton's Christmas Cop

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Colton's Christmas Cop Page 23

by Karen Whiddon


  Tim motioned the other officer over and repeated what she’d said, asking him to check the men’s room. Once he’d left, Tim asked her to continue.

  “I thought no one else was in the building, at least on this floor. That’s why I was surprised to look up and see Mark Hatton in the doorway to my father’s office.” She swallowed hard and began to shake. Realizing this, she also realized she felt detached, as if she was viewing everything from a great distance.

  She looked up to find Tim eyeing her with a sympathetic expression. “Sorry,” she apologized. “I can’t seem to help this.”

  “It’s okay. Perfectly normal. You’ve just been through a traumatic experience. You’re probably in shock. Let me finish taking your statement so I can get you to the hospital. I think you should get checked out, too, just in case.”

  Though she nodded, she had no intention of doing anything except getting herself to Hunter’s side as quickly as possible.

  She told him the rest, the ugly things Mark had called her, the venom in his voice, the vitriol in his eyes. When he’d pulled a gun, she’d thought he was about to shoot her right then, but instead he’d put duct tape over her mouth, made her tie up her own ankles and forced her to kneel on the floor with her hands behind her while he bound her wrists.

  “I figured he was going to execute me, right there on the carpet in my office.” Her trembling intensified. “And then Hunter arrived.”

  Tim carefully noted everything she said and thanked her. “Come on,” he told her, gently putting his arm around her shoulders and steering her toward the elevator. “Let’s head up to the hospital.”

  When they pulled into the emergency room parking lot, she saw police cars. So many of them, her heart sank.

  Something of how she felt must have shown on her face.

  “It’s okay,” Tim said. “They’re all just here to show their support. And look.” He pointed, directing her attention to two news vans from Sioux Falls. “There will be reporters. You don’t have to speak to them if you don’t want to.”

  “I don’t.” Glad of her heavy down parka, she once again willed the trembling to stop. It wasn’t just her hands—that would have been bearable—but a deeper, more wild kind of shaking, as if she trembled from the inside out. So far, she’d been able to make it subside a little, but the second she relaxed, it came back with a vengeance.

  Tim parked and they both got out. The wind had picked up and carried the taste of snow. Heads down, side by side, they hurried through the hospital entrance. The triage nurse, seeing Tim’s uniform, buzzed them in and directed them to the small internal waiting room.

  Once there, Chief Finn Colton spotted them and pushed to his feet. He greeted Tim and pulled Layla in for a hug. “Hunter is going to be all right,” he told her. “The bullet passed right through and didn’t hit any major organs. He’ll have a bit of muscle loss in that shoulder, but once he’s healed up, he can do physical therapy.”

  Relief hit her, so powerful her knees went weak. If not for her cousin’s support, she would have fallen. “Thank you,” she managed. “He saved my life, you know.”

  “Are you okay?” the chief asked. “Maybe we should have you checked out, just in case.”

  “That’s what I said,” Tim interjected. “Let me go talk to one of the nurses real quick.”

  “No, wait.” Layla stepped back. “I need to see Hunter first. Can someone show me where he is?”

  “I’ll show you,” Chief Colton said, touching her arm. “I just left him. Come with me.”

  He led her down the hall, toward room nine. Another officer who sat in the chair next to the bed rose when he saw them and exited the room, stopping briefly to speak to the chief.

  “I’ll leave you two alone.” Chief Colton lightly squeezed her shoulder before following his officer back to the waiting room.

  Heart hammering in her chest, Layla entered the small room. Machines beeped and the room smelled of antiseptic. Hunter’s eyes were closed and his shoulder and arm had been bandaged. He looked comfortable, which was good, and so damn handsome the sight of him made her chest ache.

  She dropped into the chair next to the bed and took several deep breaths. Just being near him calmed her, steadied her unsettled nerves. Taking his hand, she simply held on, willing strength into this brave, strong man. He’d saved her, in more ways than one. His arrival in her life had shown her the importance of truly living and given her the once-in-a-lifetime experience of knowing true, deep and forever love.

  Even if he didn’t feel the same way.

  “Layla?”

  Startled, she realized he’d opened his eyes. Blue so bright it seemed to glow.

  “I’m right here,” she said, still holding his hand.

  “Hey.” Judging from his lopsided smile, he’d been given some pain medication. “Today was a good day.”

  Okay. She decided to go with it. “Was it?”

  “Yeah. We’re 99 percent certain we know the identity of the Groom Killer.”

  “Only 99 percent? Not one hundred?” Half teasing, half serious, she kept her tone light.

  “For right now, unfortunately. But we’re working on rectifying that. And we have proof Mark made up the sexual harassment charges. You’ll be cleared of that soon.”

  “That is good news.”

  “I know, right?” He turned up the wattage in that smile, turning her insides to mush. “And best of all, now that we know Mark was the one trying to kill you, you’re not in danger anymore. You can even move back home now.”

  Just like that, with those words, reality came crashing down. She froze, battling a sudden urge to cry. “Of course,” she managed, aware she needed to thank him for all he’d done for her.

  “But Layla...” The twinkle of mischief in his gaze confused her. “I’d much rather you stay.”

  “Seriously?” Was he teasing her? Or did he really mean he wanted to make something temporary a bit more permanent?

  “Yes, seriously, you silly, beautiful, intelligent, perfect woman.”

  “Maybe we should have this discussion when you’re not on powerful pain medications,” she offered, attempting to stifle the pure joy flooding through her veins.

  “I’m perfectly sober,” he protested, even as his eyes drifted closed.

  Just like that, he’d fallen asleep.

  Heart full of love, she continued to sit with him until Tim came to remind her someone needed to go home and take care of Goose. “I’ll stay with him,” Tim offered. “I’m thinking they’ll probably discharge him soon. They haven’t said they’re admitting him, so it looks like he’ll get to go home.”

  “Then I’ll wait,” she replied. But then she thought of Goose, home alone, and relented. “He’d want me to let Goose out, so I’m going to run and do that. Will you call me if anything changes while I’m gone?”

  “Of course.”

  She drove home, realizing as she pulled up in the driveway that Hunter’s house had become more of a home to her than her town house had ever been.

  Unlocking the door, she crouched down to greet Goose. The sweetest, smartest dog in the world welcomed her as effusively as ever—tail wagging, body wiggling, giving little doggy kisses until Layla finished ruffling her fur and got up. With Goose following her, she opened the back door to let Goose out.

  While the little dog tended to business, Layla found herself wandering around Hunter’s house. For whatever reason, she felt nostalgic and raw. Maybe she should go home now that it was safe to do so. After all, she couldn’t continue to wear out her welcome here.

  While that sounded practical and realistic, the idea brought unbearable sadness. Going home to her empty town house, only able to see Hunter and Goose when they made plans to get together, such a thing felt untenable.

  Too bad Hunter hadn’t been himself when he’d asked her to stay. She shoo
k her head. Foolish wasn’t a word she would ever use to describe herself. Time to come back down to earth and go back to her regular life. If things between her and Hunter were meant to be, everything would eventually work out in the end.

  After letting Goose in, she poured some kibble in the dog’s bowl and made sure there was plenty of water. That accomplished, she considered going ahead and packing her things, but she decided to wait until Hunter was home and settled in. He might need help for the first couple of days, and she wanted to be there for him the same way he’d been for her. That’s what friends did.

  Her phone rang. Tim, letting her know Hunter had been discharged and as soon as the paperwork was signed, Tim would bring him home. Layla promised to wait and then, once she’d ended the call, she wondered if she should try to prepare some sort of meal. She’d never been much of a cook, but she figured she could make sandwiches or something.

  As she rummaged through the refrigerator, her stomach growled, reminding her that it had been a long time since her vending machine snack of mixed nuts. Since she had no idea how long it would take before the hospital processed the discharge paperwork, she made a sandwich and wolfed it down. She made a couple more, wrapped them in cellophane and put them in the fridge in case Hunter or Tim wanted one.

  An hour later, as she and Goose snuggled on the couch watching TV, headlights illuminated the front window as a car swung into the driveway. Layla jumped up, Goose right behind her, and went to the front door.

  With Tim beside him, Hunter walked up the sidewalk under his own power. Her breath caught, any greeting she might have wanted to say stuck in her throat. Joy flooded her and she couldn’t stop smiling. She reached for him, meaning to hug him, but caught sight of his bandaged shoulder and pulled back at the last moment.

  “Hey,” he said, smiling at her. At his feet, Goose danced around, performing her exuberant greeting. He managed to reach down and scratch her neck before straightening back up and moving toward the sofa.

  Tim hung back, close to the doorway. “He seems fine,” he told her, sotto voce. “I’ve got to run, but you’ve got my number. Give me a call if you need anything.”

  After seeing Tim out, she returned to the living room. Goose had attached herself to Hunter’s side, her doggy expression full of contentment.

  “Would you like a sandwich?” she asked. “I made a couple ahead of time.”

  “No, thank you. Not yet.” He looked at her, his gaze clear and unclouded. “I’m in a little bit of pain.”

  Which meant whatever they’d given him earlier had worn off. Immediately, she moved toward him. “Did they give you some meds for home? I can get you a glass of water so you can take them.”

  “Wait.” He held up his hand. “I want to talk to you first. Will you sit with me?”

  That sounded ominous, like his next sentence might begin with It’s not you, it’s me.

  Gingerly, she sat. Her stomach churned and she braced herself, instinctively anticipating bad news.

  “I realized something important today when I saw that maniac holding a gun to your head.”

  All she could do was nod encouragement.

  “I can’t even begin to envision a life without you in it,” he said. “When I thought I might lose you, all the color leached out of the world.” He swallowed hard, clearly struggling to find the right words to convey whatever he was trying to say. He moved slightly and flinched, revealing his pain. “I’ve never felt such agony—grief, really—in my life.”

  The hurt he struggled to hide made her ache. More than anything, she wished she could somehow ease that, take it away.

  “Let me get you something so you can take a pain pill,” she urged.

  “In a minute. It’s not that bad.”

  She nodded and stayed put. Though she knew it would be better for him to take something and get ahead of the pain, it was also his choice.

  “I’m trying to ask you something important, Layla. Without medication, so you can’t say I’m not clearheaded.” He took a deep breath. “We’ve just about for certain caught the Groom Killer. Once he’s charged, this town can start having weddings again.”

  Whatever she’d thought he might say, that wasn’t it. She forced herself to hold still and waited to hear the rest.

  “I don’t have a ring, but I’m asking if you’ll marry me.” He shifted and then grimaced at the pain the movement brought. “I can’t even get down on one knee, but Layla Colton, will you do the honor of agreeing to become my wife?”

  Instead of answering, she started to cry.

  Clearly concerned, he made two attempts to push himself up and go to her, succeeding the second time. Though he moved awkwardly, he sat down next to her. “That’s not the reaction I was hoping for,” he pointed out gently. “But I get it. You just got out of one engagement and you need some space and time to—”

  “Hush.” She shushed him with a soft kiss. “Don’t you be trying to put words in my mouth. I’m crying because I’m so happy. I love you with all my heart, Hunter Black. And yes, I will definitely agree to become your wife. But first, let me get you some water so you can take a pain pill. We’ll talk about this more once you’ve had some rest.”

  He laughed. “Does that mean we’re engaged?”

  Though she’d already pushed to her feet and headed toward the kitchen, she pivoted back and kissed him again. “As long as you promise to let Goose be in our wedding, yes. We are engaged.”

  Goose perked up at the sound of her name and whined.

  Hunter ruffled her fur and smiled at Layla. “Now I know I definitely picked the right woman,” he said.

  “Was there ever any doubt?” And Layla went to get him his water. There’d be plenty of time to make plans. Right now, Hunter needed to heal. And she’d do her best to help him do exactly that.

  * * *

  Look out for

  the final installment of the

  Coltons of Red Ridge miniseries,

  Colton’s Fugitive Family

  by Jennifer Morey,

  available in December 2018!

  And don’t miss the previous

  Coltons of Red Ridge stories,

  all available now from

  Harlequin Romantic Suspense!

  The Pregnant Colton Witness by Geri Krotow

  Colton’s Twin Secrets by Justine Davis

  His Forgotten Colton Fiancée by Bonnie Vanak

  Colton’s Cinderella Bride by Lisa Childs

  The Colton Cowboy by Carla Cassidy

  Colton and the Single Mom by Jane Godman

  Colton K-9 Bodyguard by Lara Lacombe

  Colton’s Deadly Engagement by Addison Fox

  Colton Baby Rescue by Marie Ferrarella

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Rancher’s High-Stakes Rescue by Beth Cornelison.

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  Rancher’s High-Stakes Rescue

  by Beth Cornelison

  Prologue

  Eight-year-old Kate Carrington climbed the silo ladder, one rusty rung at a time, while her mother’s voice shouted in her head, Stay away from the old silo, Katie. It’s dangerous!

  But Mama was a worrywart. That’s what Daddy called her, and Kate tended to agree.

  If she were a boy, you’d call her athletic and adventurous. Don’t be overprotective just because she’s a girl, her daddy would say.

  The rusty ladder creaked and wobbled as she climbed, and Kate paused. Looked down. She was pretty high. She cast her gaze around her family’s sun-drenched Missouri farm. The corn was waist high and bright green. The sky was clear blue, and the scent of tilled earth was heavy in the air after Daddy had plowed the west field, prepping it for a new planting. This kind of day filled her with the sort of excitement and curiosity to do and see and explore that Mama called recklessness.

  She tried to be good for Mama’s sake. She didn’t want Mama to worry, but Kate figured she knew her limits. And today, Mama wasn’t home. She and Daddy had gone to chaperone a 4-H conference all weekend with Henry and his class. Grandma, who was her babysitter for the weekend, would never know she’d climbed up here.

  And she wouldn’t be climbing the old silo if her brother’s new remote-controlled airplane, the one he’d just gotten for his birthday, hadn’t landed smack on top of the silo roof and gotten stuck upside down. Kate wasn’t supposed to be playing with it. If she lost it, she’d be in so much trouble! So she had to at least try to get it.

 

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