Embattled SEAL (2 page)

Lifting the edge of the fabric, she found several heavy-duty bandages high on his chest. What the hell had happened? She looked at the men still standing at the door, staring at her now as if she were crazy. “Are one of you a doctor? Tell me what happened.”

All three of them moved to the end of the bed, watching her. But the one with the slender black cane spoke up. “I’m Preston’s employer, Duncan Wilde. Would you explain who you are, please?”

Cat looked the man up and down. Forties, salt and pepper hair, a little grayer on the sides. Kind, experienced brown eyes. “I’m his wife, Cat. Estranged for the past year and a half, but still his wife. Why didn’t you call me if you’re his employer?”

The man shifted against his black cane, his gaze going to the man on the opposite end of the trio. “Honestly, there was no beneficiary contact in his employment file. Who
did
call you?”

Cat blinked. “I think the hospital. The VA, I mean. Not this one.”

The gray haired man with glasses spoke up. “I called the local VA to let them know he had been injured and to get his medical records. They must have called her.” He stepped forward, hand outstretched. “Dr. Reynolds. I just operated on your…husband. He’s had significant damage…”

Cat struggled to focus as the doctor went through the list of major and minor injuries, but her eyes kept drifting back to Harper’s form on the bed. He seemed bulkier to her, even lying the way he was. But his face seemed leaner. Deep grooves bracketed his broad mouth and her fingers itched to stroke them away. Damn, after eighteen months she should have been pissed and in the back of her mind she knew she was, but she was happier to see him right now. Thrilled, actually. If she could crawl into the bed and lay on top of him without hurting him further she would do it.

The doctor was still going on, cautioning her about getting her hopes up. She laughed and shook her head at the man. “You have no idea what—or who—you’re talking about. Harper will be fine. He’s been shot before. Several times. He’s been blown up, his foot has been run over, his right leg shattered. Three years ago he went into Afghanistan to rescue a helicopter crew that had gone down and his team got hit pretty bad.”

He looked at her askance but she’d seen the look before. From other doctors and other injuries. Her husband had the constitution of a bull and she wouldn’t let anybody plant seeds of doubt in her heart.

“Why are his eyes bandaged?” she asked, needing the conversation to get moving.

The doctor blinked. “There is significant damage to his right eye. We removed several glass shards from the exterior but one got deep enough to damage the retina. We had a specialist come in but we’re not sure if his vision can be saved.”

Cat clenched her jaw and cursed. God. Why couldn’t it have been his less dominant left eye? The right would be a crushing blow.

He wouldn’t lose the vision. He wouldn’t.

The doctor’s voice faded away. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

She didn’t even look up as the doctor left. Folding her arms beneath her breasts she moved closer to Harper’s head and reached out to run her hand across his collarbone, then the swell of his deltoid. Her fingers relished the feel of his smooth skin after going without for so long. It felt so warm. She glanced down his arms at the tattoos, memorizing the old and new lines.

The other two men still stood against the far wall. When she looked up the younger guy gave her a compassionate smile that crinkled the skin around his bright blue eyes. “I’m sorry you walked into this blind. We really didn’t know to contact you.”

Cat sighed, knowing he was telling the truth. “I believe you. The only way you would have found out was if you had been in his apartment where he keeps his personal papers. Harper has tried to distance himself from us as much as possible but he still keeps our interests at heart and protected.”

The men glanced at each other, frowning, as if silently asking the other if they had been in Harper’s apartment. She had a feeling neither man had been. Harper’s space was sacrosanct to him. Just like his weapon.

“Wait,” the man with the cane said slowly. “Us?”

Cat nodded. “Harper and I have two children together, a boy and a girl. They stayed in Virginia till I could figure out what was going on.”

The two men shared a dumbfounded look. Her gaze drifted back down to the bed and tears burned her eyes, but she blinked them away. He would be pissed as hell if he knew she was crying over him.

The younger guy stepped closer and held his hand out. “Chad Lowell, one of Harper’s bosses. He was actually on the operation with me when he was shot.”

Cat shook his hand and let go. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Nodding, Chad looked down at her husband. “We were protecting a woman and child deeper in Texas, on my family’s place. Harper was up on a lookout and gave warning when the suspect showed up, but I think somebody got the drop on him. The gunshot wound to his chest was at fairly close range. We’re not sure about the second. His rifle is chewed up pretty bad. We got him flown out of there as soon as possible and we were close enough to this trauma center that I think it saved his life. His warning gave us time to get the woman and child out of the house.” He paused and smiled gently. “He helped us save them.”

Cat swallowed, making her dry throat work. At least that had worked out. “Good. He’ll be glad to know that.”

The guy pulled a teddy bear from somewhere and held it out to her. “Mercy, the little girl, wanted him to have this. She said he needed it right now more than she did. But she wants it back.”

She smiled as she took the raggedy old bear. Looked like it had been around the kid block a few times. She set it on the rolling bedside table so he could see it when he woke up.

She caught her breath. Damn. She’d forgotten already.

“If you don’t mind, we’d like to stick around for a while,” Duncan told her. “The doctor isn’t sure when exactly he’ll wake up.”

A shiver coursed through her and she hoped that he would actually do that, then she castigated herself. Of course he was going to wake up. “That’s fine. He may not be happy I’m here, so it’s probably best you stay. I might have to leave.”

Chad frowned but didn’t pry. Cat knew he was probably burning with curiosity but he merely stepped back. “Duncan and I will be in the waiting room if you need us.”

She gave a nod and watched as they left the room. Duncan, the boss, seemed to have a lot of pain to deal with. And she’d seen Chad’s deformed arm.

Harper jerked heavily, as if startled, drawing her attention. But that was all he did. Perching on the edge of the guest chair she drew her phone from her pocket to send off a text message to her mother to let her know she’d arrived. She would wait as long as it would take.

Spicy lavender teased
at his consciousness, reminding him of the scent Cat used to wear. It was succulent and sexy and suited her personality to perfection. God, he missed her. Missed her steady calm-headedness in the face of all his drama. She never batted an eye at anything he did, but she would smile gently and make some remark that would center him. She understood his craziness and never got rattled.

Damn, his body hurt. What the hell had he done to himself? The flash of a muzzle from the corner of his eye made him jerk, sending furious pain slamming through his guts. Fuck, he felt like he’d had the shit kicked out of him.

No, he’d been shot. Images tumbled through his mind with sudden vicious clarity. He’d been on his belly in the rain and seen the glint of metal from a vehicle coming up the drive. He’d barely made contact with Chad on the radio when his amazingly sharp sixth sense that had saved him so many times before made him shift and turn his head. The gun that had been aimed at him from the back had fired, slamming through his chest. He’d lain there for a heartbeat of time waiting to see if it was a fatal wound, but movement had drawn his gaze. The shooter was taking off, obviously thinking the job had been completed. Forcing his limbs to move, Harper swung his weapon around and brought it up to take aim when the second shot struck. But it didn’t hit him. It hit his weapon and scope. Instinctively he slammed his eyes shut, but the damage was already done. Agony tore through his face and he knew his ticket had been punched. The mercenary was getting away and he couldn’t do anything about it. At the rate he was bleeding he would be dead before anybody ever found him.

A flash of the little girl he’d been protecting crowded out thoughts of his own pain and he hoped to high hell that she’d gotten away. That little one was too precious. She didn’t deserve to be hunted that way.

Time drifted away for a while and when he roused again, pain and discomfort made him shift against the ground. Or was it a bed? It was too soft to be the ground. Focusing, he tried to open his eyes but nothing happened. He tried to raise a hand to feel the ground for his weapon but he couldn’t even do that much. Anxiety began to creep in. As he shifted again just to gauge his range of motion his stomach bottomed out. He couldn’t do anything.

The rhythmic swooshing sound to his right gave him some hint of where he was and an excuse for the fullness he felt in his throat. Ventilator. Fuck. It had been a few years since he’d been on one but the feeling of choking on the air being forced into his lungs came back to him in a rush and that fear gave him the strength to raise his hands to reach for the damn thing.

“Don’t, Harper. I’ll call for a nurse. Don’t pull it out.”

His movements stalled as the low, soothing voice came to his ears, shocking him into stillness. Cat?

“Harper, do you hear me?”

He gave the slightest nod of his sore head, mute, shocked that she’d cared enough to come. Emotion rolled through him and he tried to force his eyes open but something obscured his vision. He tried to lift his arms again but weakness dragged at his body. Cat leaned over him and he felt her breath brush his right ear. “Just stay still, Harper, and we’ll explain everything. The nurse is here now and we’ll try to get this tube out of your throat.”

Every protective instinct he had urged him to get up off the bed and snatch up his weapon to control the area, but he couldn’t even lift his hand. This was such a clusterfuck.

Cat was here, though. Cat would take care of everything. She would guard his back.

A different woman’s voice came to him from the opposite side of the hospital bed, urging him to relax. Honestly, he tried, but when she moved slower than molasses he began to go insane. Panic began to eat at his control and he clutched the edge of the mattress. The nurse unstrapped the mouthpiece from around his head and he could contain himself no longer. Knocking her hand away, he ripped the tube from his throat and threw it aside.

Cat yelled out to try to stop him but he was beyond her calming influence. As he gagged and rolled to his side to cough, he got a sense of how much he’d just fucked up. The pain radiating through his gut from the coughing made the nausea roll and he started to retch. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, there was nothing in his stomach to puke up, so he just heaved in pain. That heaving made his eyes throb, sending agony through his head. For a solid three minutes he was in the purest hell he could ever imagine.

Cat cradled him to her, making sure he didn’t roll completely out of the bed and rubbed her hand across his back. When his spasms began to ease, she wiped his face with a wet washcloth and helped him lay back on the mattress. Harper boiled with frustrated anger. He’d been hurt before, but never like this.

“What the hell happened?”

He barely recognized his own voice it was so rough and frail, but Cat understood him. “You were shot in the chest several days ago. You’ve been in to surgery a couple times since you’ve been here, but you are improving.”

He moved his hand toward his head and she clasped his palm with her own. “You have bandages around your head because the second shot hit your weapon. You had glass in your eyes from the scope being shattered.”

The breath stalled in his aching lungs and he waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, he connected the dots. “My vision is gone.”

“No,” she sighed. “They’re not sure. They won’t be sure until they take the bandages off in a couple days.”

Harper didn’t know if he believed her or not. He was laid up, damn near as injured as he’d ever been. Would she tell him the truth right now? Maybe, maybe not.

Fuck. What the hell was a sniper supposed to do with no vision?

“Listen to me, Harper. Your right eye was the most damaged, but they think they can repair it. As much as it will drive you nuts you need to just stay calm and wait it out. It may not be as bad as we imagine.”

He swallowed heavily, struggling to get his raw throat to move. Cat seemed to sense he was having issues, because he felt her swing away and come back, then a straw rested at his lips. “Go slowly. Don’t want you to get sick again.”

The first wash of lukewarm water down his throat felt stupid good. The second even better. It didn’t feel so good when it hit his stomach though. He turned his head away as his stomach contracted again but he breathed through the nausea.