Every Breath She Takes (40 page)

“I know,” Cal said, but he was listening with only half an ear, still grappling with the
what ifs
.

“Do you really?”

Something about the Mountie’s tone pulled at Cal. He looked at the detective sharply then. “Why do I have the feeling you have something more you’d like to say?

The detective’s gaze was steady. “I first spoke to Miss Townsend while they were working on you. She was very upset.”

What was he getting at? “It was an upsetting experience.”

“I understand she baited Mr. McLeod to provoke that beating,” the detective continued.

Cal paled, recalling her jibes. “I know. It’s the only thing that kept her alive long enough for me to reach her.”

“She did it hoping it would give your former wife a chance to recover consciousness and get away.”

Geez, what was the matter with this guy? It was Cal’s
chest
that had been injured, not his
brain
. “I know. That’s what it was all about. After having that vision—” He still felt strange saying that word, but it was getting easier. He cleared his throat. “Seeing that vision is what brought her here in the first place, for the sole purpose of saving Marlena.”

Detective Beldan tucked his notepad into a pocket. “As I understand it, Miss Townsend had an extra incentive for wanting to keep Mrs. Taggart alive.”

“Ex-Mrs. Taggart. And what do you mean, extra incentive?”

“Mr. McLeod explained to Miss Townsend in some considerable detail his plan to frame you, Mr. Taggart. That’s how we unraveled it so quickly. She got it from the horse’s mouth.”

Cal opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, without once making a sound. Beldan ignored his imitation of a fish.

“Miss Townsend’s first priority was to buy time for your ex-wife to regain consciousness and hopefully get away. Plan B, in case that didn’t work, was to generate enough forensic evidence to refute the frame job.”

His stomach churned violently. The thought of Lauren out there, despairing of rescue, prepared to die hard…

The Mountie carried on, oblivious of Cal’s nausea. “She scratched his face to mark him as the assailant and to capture evidence under her nails. And by inducing that beating, she ensured his blood wound up on her. Lots of it.”

Cal swallowed.
Steady, man
. “Why are you telling me this?”

Beldan fingered his hat. “After that first interview, she closed up about all that. Her official statement says she was only trying to buy a few more minutes.” Beldan stood, replacing his hat. “I had a hunch she wouldn’t mention it. But I figure if a woman does something like that for a man, he oughta know.”

The Mountie left the room as soundlessly as he’d come.

Cal sat there motionless. Why hadn’t she told him? He owed her so much more than he thought. Not just for dragging him back up that cliff. Not just for the lives of Marlena and Brady. He owed her his ranch, his reputation, his freedom, his very life.

He felt something tear away in his psyche like a piece of burlap being rent. He’d needed her. Cal Taggart, the man who needed no one, had needed Lauren Townsend. She’d saved them
all, never mind that none of them deserved it, except maybe Brady.

The really scary thing was he needed her still.

He needed someone he could trust his heart to.

He needed someone who could look on his impoverished soul and not turn away.

He needed Lauren.

He groaned. Once upon a time, he’d thought she might be beginning to love him, at least in a vacation-fling kind of way, before he’d let his insecurities run wild. And now…

Well, she
must
feel something for him, to have done what she did. Maybe it wasn’t too late to fan that spark of desire into something that would last in the real, everyday world.

You don’t deserve her, cowboy.

The thought whispered in his head, subtle and persuasive as ever, but this time he silenced it.
Not yet, maybe, but I will.
If she valued him enough to have done what she’d done, he was just going to have to learn to deserve her.

Starting with getting out of here so he could go after her.

“Lauren, I think you better come see this.”

Heather’s voice pulled Lauren out of her daze. She was supposedly researching new treatments for hyperadrenalcorticism, but she’d been staring blankly at the computer screen.
Again
. She’d hoped that coming back to work this week would snap her out of these funks. Sighing, she went off-line. “Coming.”

She joined Heather in the reception area. “Okay, what is it?” she asked, striving for good humor. “The snake owner with the bifurcated tongue? The rat girl with the body piercings?”

“Even weirder.” Heather gestured toward the window. “A
cowboy
in our parking lot.”

Lauren blanched. “Where? Show me.”

“Last car. He’s helping Mrs. Foster unload her poodles.”

For a moment Lauren saw no one, but she could see the door on the passenger side of the sleek sedan stood ajar. Then a man backed away from the car and stood. It was Cal.

Gesturing for Mrs. Foster to precede him, he stepped around the car, a small cage in each hand, and strode toward the clinic.

Lauren drank him in. He wore a beige straw Stetson, what looked like brand-new jeans and boots, and one of those soft blue chambray shirts she’d come to love. Heather emitted a wolf whistle.

A fierce longing blocked Lauren’s throat. “Cal.”

Heather looked at her sharply. “You
know
this guy?” Lauren made no reply, but her assistant’s eyes widened. “He followed you here, didn’t he? Followed you all the way from Alberta!”

The reality of his being here hit her and she started to shake. Just in time for the front door to open.

Mrs. Foster entered first. “Thank you so much, young man.”

“My pleasure, ma’am.”

He placed the cages where Mrs. Foster indicated, but his gaze had already found Lauren’s. He straightened, removing his hat. “Lauren.”

“Cal.”

Heather cleared her throat. “Mrs. Foster, you’re right on time. Let’s get the girls into the exam room.”

“What are you doing here?” Lauren asked as soon as Heather and Mrs. Foster disappeared. “Is everyone all right?”

“Everyone’s fine.”

“Marlena?”

“In an addictions program, believe it or not.”

“Wow. How’d you get her to consent to that?”

“It was her idea, actually. I think she may have finally got it together.”

“That’s good,” Lauren said, meaning it. “And Zane’s tests?”

“Doctor says he has an ulcer, but Delia seems to have taken up the challenge of keeping his diet on the straight and narrow.”

“Zane and Delia?”

He grinned. “Looks like it. There’s a big age difference, which Zane isn’t crazy about, but he’s fighting a losing battle.”

“How do you feel about that?”

Cal shrugged. “It’s one way to keep a good cook, I guess.”

“Then Zane’s staying?”

“Yeah, I think I talked him into it.”

“What about Brady? Does he know his father used him, then planned to kill him?”

“’Fraid so. I’d have spared him that last bit, if I could, but there was no way to keep it from him once the details of Harvey’s attack started coming out.”

Poor Brady. “How’s he taking it?”

“Better than I probably would have, at his age. But the kid’s name was still on a life insurance policy as a beneficiary, so he’s consoling himself that he’ll be able to take care of his mother.”

“That’s good,” Lauren said. “And the ranch?”

“That’s the damndest thing.” Cal shook his head. “After the field day the media had over Harvey’s death, I’da thought folks would run screaming from us, but they’re coming in hordes.”

She felt the weight of that concern slip away. Between Zane Taggart’s financial contribution and the renaissance of the guest ranch, Cal’s future looked solid. “I’m glad, Cal.”

“Thanks.”

An awkward silence fell. Okay, Marlena was fine, Zane was fine, the ranch was fine. She was running out of reasons for him to be here, except the one she didn’t dare hope for.

She licked suddenly dry lips. “So what brings you here?”

“I thought we might go for dinner.”

Despite her anxiety, she laughed. And was he actually
blushing
? “You crossed the country to invite me to dinner?”

He smiled, but she could see the tension in him. “I crossed a continent to
talk
, but dinner seems like a good idea too. I realized on the plane that I don’t remember the last time I ate.”

Him too?
Lauren’s food had tasted like sawdust since leaving Alberta. The idea that he might be suffering just as she was gave her courage.

“Dinner would be nice, but I have Cagney and Lacey.”

He blinked.
“Cagney and Lacey?”

“The poodles,” she blurted, lest he think she would brush him off to watch reruns of that old cop show. Of course, maybe she
should
if she knew what was good for her. But she wouldn’t.

“Afterward, then.”

“It’ll take a little while,” she warned.

“I’ll wait.”

“Okay,” she said, smiling. “Okay.”

It took all of Lauren’s professionalism to get through the next thirty minutes. Afterward she ducked into the washroom to fix her lipstick. One look in the mirror made her groan. Had she looked like that to Cal? All eyes and nervous excitement?

She took five minutes and did a total face repair. He’d know she’d had to bolster her confidence with makeup, but it was preferable to facing him looking like an apprehensive child.

Stomach leaping, she strode back into the waiting room, only to find Cal gone. She stood looking around the empty room in disbelief. Had he come this far only to chicken out?

“He’s helping Mrs. Foster with the girls again.” Heather must have come from the back room. Purse under her arm and car keys in hand, she was ready to leave. “Lauren, sweetie, is there something you neglected to tell me about your western vacation?”

Only about a million things. Lauren couldn’t have faced Heather’s endless questions, which is why she’d delayed coming back to work until her bruises healed well enough to hide.

“I may have omitted a thing or two,” she allowed.

The tinkling of the door announced Cal’s return.

“You’ll have to rectify that Monday, you realize,” Heather murmured before heading for the door. “’Night, Mr. Taggart.”

“Goodnight, Miz Carr.”

Lauren felt Cal’s gaze on her as she wrestled with the suddenly stiff lock. Or maybe it was just stiff fingers. Finally she managed to secure the door.

“So where to, cowboy?”

“Doesn’t matter. I think I’m too jittery to eat anyway.”

She felt another zing of adrenaline at his words. That was twice he’d verbalized a vulnerability in the last hour, which was twice more than he’d done in all the time she’d known him.

“Would you like to go home with me? I can fix us a sandwich, brew some coffee. I’ll bring you back to pick up your truck…” She let the words trail off.

His eyes lit. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

They didn’t speak in the car. Traffic was heavy, and Lauren needed to keep her wits about her. The heat in his eyes when she’d invited him home gave her plenty enough distraction.

Twenty minutes later she pulled up in the drive of her tiny house with its weathered shingles in an older neighborhood.

“Nice,” he said, climbing out of the car.

“It’s bigger than it looks. Come on.”

They were greeted at the door by Gabe and Cissy. The Rotti was as affable as ever, but Cissy barked incessantly at Cal until he bent and scooped her up. Stunned, she shut up, then promptly fell under his spell as he scratched her in all the right places. The two of them even went out into the backyard with Cal, who supervised them while they relieved themselves and secured the perimeter against squirrels.

Ten minutes later Cal came back inside with the dogs, who subsided in their respective kennels as they’d been trained to do during meals. Lauren put a plate of deli sandwiches on the table, along with a carafe of strong black coffee.

“There,” she said with satisfaction. “Food at last.”

They sat. “You must have missed those guys when you were gone,” Cal said.

“I did,” she agreed. “But I knew they were well taken care of. We kennel dogs at work.”

“Of course.”

Silence fell. Lauren took a bite of her sandwich.

“So have you had any more visions?”

Her heart jumped and fell into a faster rhythm. “No. Nothing new.”

“What about the old ones? Do you ever see them after they’re…done?”

She shook her head. “No. I have nightmares about them sometimes, but they’re…you know…normal.”

“I bet you’ve had some nightmares about McLeod.”

“A few,” she allowed. “And usually just when I think I’m done with them, I’ll have another. But it’s no biggie. I get up, make some warm milk, go back to bed.”
Cry. Yearn for you. Close my eyes and pretend you’re there.

Cal pushed his chair back suddenly. “Will you marry me?”

It took her a few seconds to process the bald words. “That’s not funny,” she said, sagging back in her chair.

“I love you, Lauren.”

His words were like a fist in the gut. “You
love
me?”

“Yes.”

She burst into tears.

“Lauren, sweetheart…” He got to his feet, then pulled her into his arms. “Oh, baby, don’t cry.”

Her tears ran unchecked, darkening his shirt as she pressed her face into his warmth. Beneath her ear, his heart pounded like a distance runner’s.
In his arms.
The one place she needed to be. The haven she thought she’d never know again.

She pulled away, stepping back so she could think straight. He let her go reluctantly. Tipping her head up, she searched his eyes. They were shadowed with anxiety, yet somehow clearer than she’d ever seen them. “You pushed me away.”

“I know. I’m sorry…”

“You practically bundled me onto that plane.”

“You
wanted
to go home,” he protested.