Chapter 13

Three patients, one of whom was cuffed to a bed, hardly seemed like enough to make even Community Hospital’s relatively small emergency room seem busy, so maybe it was all the deputies hovering around.

One side of Kelly’s face was severely swollen from where she’d been kicked, and a black eye started to appear. Her hand was x-rayed with a portable unit, but nothing was broken. It was, however, rapidly approaching the size of a grapefruit. Her hip, too, was bruised, but otherwise fine.

She waited for the skull x-rays that had been ordered, but she was getting impatient to know if the sheriff had learned anything from the guy who attacked her.

And Hank was just plain impatient. He kept saying that he was fine, that all he’d done was tackle the guy, but they insisted on checking him out anyway. Finally, he managed to get them to open the curtain between his and Kelly’s cubicles so he could lean over, look at her and say, “How are you doing, darlin’?”

She thrilled to the endearment, but was quite certain it had been tossed off casually. “I think I know how a prize-fighter feels after a few rounds in the ring, but I’m fine. I’m perfectly fine. I’m not even dizzy anymore.”

“I swear, there were ten minutes there that felt like ten years.”

“It was only five,” she assured him, smiling with the uninjured side of her face. “Only five. But it did seem like ten.”

“How do you know it was only five?”

“From the time I hit my beeper until Gage arrived, five minutes. They told me.”

“Too damn long,” he muttered grumpily.

“I heard that,” Gage said, rounding the corner. “Sorry, still can’t teleport, although I’ve been working on it. Things like roads and trees must be observed. And the foot patrols I had circling got there about the same time.”

“You got there in plenty of time,” Kelly assured him. “I didn’t hit the beeper until he was in the bedroom.”

The two men stared at her aghast.

Finally, Hank asked, “Why in the hell not?”

“Because I didn’t want him to get away again.”

Hank used a few choice cusswords that caused a nurse outside to call, “Not fit for a lady’s ears, Hank Jackson. Cut it out.”

Kelly had more important concerns. She looked at Gage. “Did he say my husband hired him?”

“Ask him yourself.” With that Gage pushed back the curtain. Her attacker lay cuffed to the bed, his leg in a brace. When the curtain opened, so did his eyes, and he saw her. Surprise filled his face.

“So,” she said, “did my husband hire you to kill me?”

“Lady, I ain’t ever…”

“Shut up,” she said calmly. “I’d recognize you anywhere. You attacked me in my parking garage and tried to drown me in a canal back home. Now you attacked me again.”

“Two counts,” Gage intoned. “Attempted murder. That’s a long sentence.”

But Kelly had seen the change in the man’s face when he realized she could identify him as her attacker from Miami. He no longer looked quite so stony-faced. And the stoniness lessened with Gage’s pronouncement.

“Yeah,” the guy said finally. “Your husband hired me.”

It was all she needed to hear. Exactly what she needed the cops to hear. Now, at last, it was over.

Not only was her stalker in custody, but very soon Dean would be as well.

As the final fear lifted from her shoulders, she felt as if she could float.

“You know what this looks like?” Hank asked as he helped Kelly up the steps to his house hours later. “What?”

“The halt leading the lame, or something. Both of us can barely walk right now.”

“You must be sore.”

“Darlin’, I couldn’t possibly be any sorer than you.”

There was that word again. Despite every mental warning to herself that it was just casual, it warmed her anyway. It felt like a hug, and tickled her deep inside.

Hank led her to the living room sofa and dug out one of the ice packs the hospital had given them. He crunched it to activate it, then gently pressed it to her swollen face.

“Every time I look at you,” he said, “I want to smash that guy’s face in. And I’m not inclined to violence by nature.”

“I’m fine,” she said, daring to reach out and take his free hand. “For a minute there I wanted to kill him, too. But I’m glad I didn’t because now we’ll get Dean.”

“I agree.” He gave her a crooked smile. “That makes me feel somewhat better.” He squeezed her hand. “It’s too bad you’re so banged up.”

“Yeah, but it’ll pass. I’m still alive.”

“Thank God for that. But no, I’m being very selfish.”

“Selfish how?”

His smile grew even more crooked. “I just want to take you to bed and make love to you until we’re so exhausted we can’t move. But right now…” He shook his head.

She caught her breath and turned toward him, nudging the ice pack aside. “I’d like that. I’d really like that.”

“But not yet,” he said firmly. “Cripes, it’d be a circus between the two of us. You have a huge bruise on your hip, your neck is sore, your head’s a mess… Nope.”

She sighed and closed her eyes briefly. “You’re right. I hate it that you’re right.”

“Me, too, darlin’.”

Her eyes popped open. Well, one of them did. The other managed to become a slit through which she could barely see.

“Don’t call me that,” she said. It hurt too much, knowing he couldn’t possibly mean it. “Don’t call me that unless you mean it.” Then she closed her eyes again, amazed that she’d been bold enough to say that. Well, having nearly died—again—seemed to have made certain niceties a waste of time. But her heart stuttered as she waited to hear…nothing. He would say nothing because he was too nice to admit that he didn’t mean it, and he couldn’t possibly mean it.

The silence seemed endless. Her heart ached with loss. How could she have been such a fool to fall in love again. And after only a handful of days?

Finally, unable to stand the tension and silence, she opened her eyes again and looked at him.

He stared at her, looking as if his heart, his soul, felt suspended by a thread. Well, that settled it, she thought. If her simple words could strike terror in him he wanted little to do with her. Maybe she should start packing right now.

But then his husky voice froze her in place.

“I mean it,” he said finally. “I’ve never called anyone that before. But…you don’t want me to mean it.”

Her heart stopped. Her breathing nearly stopped. She sounded like a frog when she finally forced words out. “I don’t? Why the heck not?”

To her amazement, he was the one who seemed to hold his breath now. Then, “But…you’re going back to Miami, right? Now that the guy is caught?”

“I’m going back to Miami for a court date and maybe later to testify at a trial. Whether I stay there…well, that’s not my decision alone.”

“Are you thinking about coming back here?”

She just looked at him.

Finally, she saw frustration stamp his face. Her heart dared to lift a tiny bit. “Kelly, I’m just a cowboy. I don’t know how to play games. If there’s something you need me to say, tell me what the hell it is. Please.”

She felt a twinge. He thought she was trying to play games? Maybe she was. Maybe it was just time to settle this. She had almost died again last night. How could she possibly be afraid of being the first one to step off this ledge? Whether or not she took the first step, it was going to hurt like hell if he didn’t want her. It wasn’t as if she could avoid the pain by not speaking. “I want to know if you want me to stay here. I want to know if I might have a home here.”

He said nothing for so long that her heart quivered and her stomach began to drop. This was it. He was seeking a kind way to tell her to forget it.

But when he started to speak at last, it took a second for his words to penetrate the growing fog of her despair. “I want you to stay. I need you to stay. I realize that we don’t really know each other yet, but…well…I’m pretty damn sure I’m in love with you.”

A joyous shock rolled through her, leaving her almost light-headed, banishing her aches and pains, and she smiled—amazing considering how swollen half of her face was. “Really?”

“Really.” And once again he was holding his breath, apparently as much on tenterhooks as she had just been.

“I love you, too,” she said finally, leaning painfully toward him to brush just the lightest of kisses against his lips. “I’m sure of it. I love you. And I want to stay with you.”

“In this one-horse town?”

“The one-horse town is beautiful with you in it.”

He studied her face, seeking the truth in it, and finally he threw back his head and let out a loud, “Yeehaw!”

Well, he was a cowboy after all, and his lady had just filled his heart with joy. And then she giggled and squeezed his hand.

“I love you,” he said again, gingerly wrapping his arm around her. “I love you. Now hurry up and get well so I can show you how much.”

She snuggled into his arms, as if she had been made just for him. Because suddenly and with certainty, she was sure of it. The joy was almost more than she could bear. “Count on it, cowboy. Count on it.”