Evidence of Trust (30 page)

Unless she bashed his skull in, he wouldn’t be unconscious for long. Joel grasped her by the shoulders and spun them both around to put his body between her and the threat.

“Get in my truck and lock the doors,” he instructed as he pulled his gun. “Aaron’s on the way, but if anything happens to me before he gets here, take the truck and get out of here.”

Her already wide eyes went even wider. “No.”

“Yes.” He gave her a push. “I mean it,
go.
”

She began to back up. He watched her for one extra second—

A violent jolt stabbed between his shoulder blades. The gun report followed a split-second later, along with Brittany’s scream. Both echoed in his ears as his next breath was arrested by searing pain spreading through his back and chest. He lurched forward while desperately trying to spin his body around to face Randy. He fired off a round and saw the bastard dive for cover.

Two arms caught his fall. Brittany grunted as they stumbled to the ground together. God, what was she doing?

“Get to the truck,” he groaned, blindly firing another round to keep Randy down. “You can get out of here.”

“Not without you.”

She glanced behind them, but he knew he’d never make it to the truck. He tried to brace with his left arm and push them toward the trees with his legs. She pulled as he pushed. Wetness soaked his back. Every movement was like a knife being plunged into his body. Each breath he sucked in twisted that knife. She whispered a tearful apology with every moan of agony that fell from his lips.

In the cover of the trees, he grit his teeth and managed to peer around for a glimpse of their stalker. He didn’t see anything moving. The only thing he heard was the labored breaths he sucked in through his nose in a futile attempt to control his breathing and lessen the pain.

“I don’t see him,” Brittany whispered.

“Stay down.” The order sounded more like a groan.

A twig snapped off to their right. Then he heard a faint rustle of leaves. Brittany’s breath hitched. Joel focused.

“Shoulda stayed away, Morgan.”

Randy’s voice made her flinch. Joel met her worried green eyes and mouthed the word
down.
Slow and quiet, she flattened herself to the ground.

Come on, you bastard, say something else.
He was losing strength by the second and prayed he didn’t pass out before it was too late.

He rotated his head to the right and listened. Another twig snap. Closer this time. He approximated the sound about fifteen yards away.

“
Britt-nee
.”

The sing-song taunt spiked Joel’s adrenaline and gave him a fix on his target. He rolled his body over hers while extending his arms for a single shot. A split second before Randy raised his gun, Joel’s finger squeezed the trigger. Two shots exploded.

Darkness on the edge of his vision mushroomed and took over his world as Brittany’s scream vibrated his eardrums.

Chapter 34

Please, God, let him live
.

Britt had repeated those words in her head a million times from the moment Joel’s body went limp over hers. Casey’s voice had cut off her horrified scream. He’d rolled Joel off her, assured her he was still breathing, then helped Aaron get him into the squad car. They laid him on his stomach and she knelt on the floor to keep pressure on the wound while the sheriff raced to the ER with his sirens blaring.

Casey stayed behind to wait for backup to deal with Randy. She thought she heard someone say he was still alive, but she wasn’t sure and didn’t really care.

As soon as the emergency team in Estes Park stabilized Joel’s vitals, he was loaded onto a medical transport helicopter and transferred to the level two trauma center in Boulder for surgery.

She wasn’t allowed to ride in the chopper, and Aaron pulled her from the room, promising to drive her himself. Her emotions nearly exploded when he’d made a stop at his house, but once she spotted her blood-soaked reflection in the mirror, she understood.

Aaron’s wife lent her some clothes, and she’d never showered faster in her life. They were on the road again in less than twenty minutes, and had been sitting in the Boulder Community Hospital for the past three hours.

Watching the clock.

Waiting for news.

Casey and Jayne had arrived with Ryan Wagner at some point. After giving her hugs, the men moved off to the side to talk to Aaron. As Jayne sat with her, she listened to the guys and gathered that Randy had been shot twice; once by Joel and once by Casey. He’d also been flown to the trauma unit for surgery and it seemed surreal that doctors were fighting side by side to save the man she loved and the man who’d tried to kill him.

Beside her, Jayne made a few attempts to talk, but Britt shook her head and stared at the wall on the opposite side of the room. A water color painting of spring flowers in a mountain meadow hung there, slightly crooked. The colors all blended together, creating a warm, peaceful effect. She wanted to rip it from the wall as the second hand of the clock ticked in its muted, maddening, never-ending circle.

A short while later, Gina entered the waiting room. From the corner of her eye, Britt saw Jayne shake her head. Gina didn’t speak a word; she simply sat down beside her and laid her hand on Britt’s back as night fell outside the windows. She was grateful her friends seemed to understand. Not that she didn’t appreciate their support, but she was so numb at the moment, she only had the energy for those five little words.

Please, God, let him live.

A thought occurred to her out of the blue and she straightened, startling the others. “Did anyone call his dad?”

Ryan nodded and started to speak, but Britt’s attention shifted as a doctor in scrubs came around the corner. She shot to her feet and hurried forward.

“Are you all here for Joel Mor—”

“Yes,” she blurted before he could finish.

“Are any of you immediate family?”

She swallowed hard as Ryan stepped up beside her. “No, we’re friends. His father is on his way from Montana but won’t be here for a few hours yet.”

The man nodded, swept his calm gaze over the group that included a uniformed sheriff and park ranger, then settled back on Britt. Her heart thudded hard in the agonizing seconds before he spoke again. “He made it through the surgery just fine.”

Relief weakened her knees and thankfully, someone offered her support from behind.

“He was very lucky—if the bullet had gone just a few inches lower, I don't know that he would’ve made it to the hospital. Right now, he’s being transferred to a room in ICU. I’m not sure how long it’ll take for him to wake up, but you’re welcome to sit with him while you wait. I can take you up there if you’d like?”

“Yes, please.”

Now she turned to the others, feeling like she should explain. Gina pulled her in for a quick hug. “Go. Don’t worry about us.”

“Thank you.”

Aaron went with her as she followed the doctor. He put a hand on her shoulder when they entered the room. Joel’s eyes were closed, and his dark hair stood out against the white sheets. Beside the bed, a heart monitor beeped a steady rhythm while tubes and wires snaked from his body to various other machines.

At the sight of him lying so still, tears rushed forward to blur her vision. She blinked furiously, and dashed the moisture away as she stepped forward to reach for his hand.

Aaron squeezed her shoulder. “He’ll make it through this.”

“I know.” But her smile was tremulous at best. She should’ve told him she loved him last night.

God, was it only last night? It felt like a lifetime had passed in the last twenty-four hours.

A nurse entered and spoke quietly to Aaron. He glanced outside the room, then turned back to Britt. “Sounds like Randy also made it through surgery, so I have to sort some things out with his arrest and arrange to get him transferred to a prison hospital as soon as he can be transported. Will you be okay here by yourself?”

She hated being in the same hospital as the man who’d done this to Joel. “I’m fine. Just get him out of here as soon as you can.”

He pulled her in for a quick hug. “He’ll be under twenty-four hour guard if I have to sit there myself.”

“Thank you. For everything.”

After he left, Britt carefully dragged the chair from by the window and positioned it alongside the bed. Then she sat and took Joel’s hand in hers. Comparing his large hand to her smaller one, she thought about how well they fit together, how natural it felt. Her gaze lifted to rove over his face. He was pale beneath his tan, his hair a tousled mess. Used to seeing a strong, capable man, it was hard to fathom this helpless state.

She talked to him, though if anyone had asked her later what she’d said, she couldn’t have told them. At first, she’d started out watching his face, waiting for any sign he heard her voice. Then the last nurse who’d come in to check on him had turned off the sound on his heart monitor in case she wanted to sleep. She was surprised at how much she missed that steady, reassuring little beep. As the night wore on, she found herself watching the mesmerizing spike and drop of the little green line.

A noise registered on her consciousness and she blinked. Realizing she’d fallen asleep on the side of Joel’s bed, she sat up. Before she could lift her hands to rub her eyes, his fingers tightened on her right hand. Her gaze shot to his. Those golden-brown eyes were open and focused on her in the dim illumination from the light behind his bed.

She rose up, gripping his hand in hers as she leaned over the bed with a smile. “Hey.”

His lips moved, then his eyes closed. She didn’t catch what he’d said and leaned closer.

“What?”

“Scared.” The word rasped from between his dried lips as if his throat was coated in sandpaper. He coughed, frowned, and let out a low groan.

“Don’t talk,” she urged. “Everything is okay now.”

His grip tightened again. His eyes opened and searched her face, worry darkening the gold flecks she loved so much.

“You…screamed.”

“For you. I thought—” The emotion of that terrifying moment choked her voice. She laid her free hand against his stubble-covered jaw. “I’m fine. You had surgery and are going to be fine. You
better
be fine.”

“Giff…?”

“Randy’s in custody.”

Relief seemed to drain what little energy he had. His hand went slack and his eyes closed.
No, not yet.

“Joel?”

His lashes lifted half-way.

“I just wanted to…well, I wanted to let you know…” His eyelids began to drift shut again. She was losing him. “I love you.”

The barest hint of a smile curved his mouth before his lashes rested against his cheeks. She waited a moment, then sunk down to the chair as disappointment flooded through her. Okay, she knew her timing sucked, and she shouldn’t have expected more than that, but damn it…she’d hoped.

She swallowed against the lump forming in her throat and began to sit back. The moment her hand started to pull away, Joel’s wrist twisted, and his fingers gripped hers with unexpected strength. She stilled. As his hold remained, she smiled, and laid her head back on the side of the bed.

Chapter 35

God, he was tired. So tired, he just wanted to sleep until noon. And it felt like he’d been hit in the chest by a truck. The low, insistent beep of an alarm convinced him to open his eyes. His surroundings were so alien it took him a full minute to realize he was in a hospital. Worse than that, he had no clue how he’d gotten there.

A slow turn of his head to the left revealed his ‘alarm’ was a heart monitor. He turned his head toward the sunlit windows and paused at the sight of his father dozing in the chair next to the bed.

“Da-d?” His voice came out in a hoarse rasp, and no more than a whisper. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Dad?”

Jack Morgan sat up with a start. Worry lines around his mouth eased as he came to stand by the bed. “About time you woke up.”

“Why are you here?” he asked with confusion.

“You were shot.” His dad grasped his hand tight. “Don’t you remember?”

Explained why he hurt so bad. Joel stared straight ahead as the scene in the woods came back in a dizzying rush. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. The last thing he remembered, Randy had been lifting his gun toward him and Brittany.

He’d heard gunshots. One from him, one from Randy. She’d screamed.

Please, God…no.
He lifted his head. “Where’s Brittany? Please tell me she’s okay—”

His dad squeezed his hand. “She went to get something to eat.”

Relief tingled through his body. “I need to see her.” He grit his teeth and started to pull the covers off so he could get up.

A restraining hand on his shoulder held him down. “She’ll be back soon—”

“Stay in that bed.”

He whipped his head toward the door. There she stood, gorgeous as ever with her blond hair cascading in loose curls over her shoulders. Seeing her, alive and okay, he slumped back against the pillow. The ache in his chest had nothing to do with the bullet they’d dug out.