She Can Tell (40 page)

A shadow filled the doorway. Quinn stepped into the room. He walked over to Rachel and squatted down in front of her. “The surgery went well. He’s going to intensive care for the night, but it looks good.”

All the air left her lungs. Had she been holding her breath? Tiny pinpoints of light speckled her vision.

Quinn’s frown matched his wife’s. “I was looking for you in the ER. Why aren’t you there?”

Standing next to him, Claire crossed her arms over her chest. “Small second-degree burns on her hand. She’s hypothermic and dehydrated.”

Quinn uttered what sounded like a curse under his breath. “Here’s the deal. I will get you in to see him for a couple of minutes
if
you agree to go back downstairs and get treated afterward.” It wasn’t a question, and Quinn didn’t wait for an answer.

In short order she was gowned and standing in an ICU cubicle surrounded by a host of medical equipment she knew all too well. Is this how Sarah had felt? Afraid to believe what her eyes were seeing? Hope crushed was worse than no hope at all. Rachel moved closer. Mike’s face was white as the hospital linens. Tubes and wires snaked across and under the sheets. But his massive chest rose in an even rhythm, and the bank of monitors assured her that his heart was beating regularly too. Tears trickled down her face as she watched, as it sank in.

He wasn’t dead.

After the past few hours of mentally replaying the sight of his blood draining into the earth, the relief buckled her knees. Quinn’s hand subtly supported her elbow.

“He won’t be alone, will he? No offense, but he doesn’t like hospitals much.”

“I know all about Mike’s, uhm, issue.” Quinn smiled. “I’ll be right here all night. Go with Jack. Mike isn’t going to wake up tonight. But tomorrow, the first thing he’s going to want to see is you. He’ll feel better if you don’t look half-dead or have blood in your hair.”

Her hand strayed to her head. Her hair was stiff and sticky. Ugh. But still she hesitated, not used to seeing the big and capable man she loved so vulnerable.

“You and Mike are a lot alike. Yeah, I know, you seem like opposites because he’s so calm all the time, and you’re, well, not. Besides the fact that much of his calm is an act, you both spend a lot of time taking care of other people,”
Quinn said quietly. “It’s OK to let those others take care of you occasionally.”

“You’ll really stay with him?”

“All night.”

Downstairs, the ER staff wrapped her in heated blankets, then cleaned and bandaged the burns on her hand. Rachel passed on an IV, chugging a bottle of water instead. She’d rather be upstairs with Mike, but she had to admit she was as tired as she’d ever been in her life. Having other people like Quinn to rely on wasn’t half bad. Maybe she could adjust.

Rachel stiffened in the backseat of Jack’s SUV. Now that she was assured that Mike would be all right, her brain cells were rebooting. She tapped Jack on the shoulder. “Oh my God. The horses. Jack, I have to go home.”

“No, you don’t,” Sarah said from the passenger seat. “Cristan rounded them all up, and Blake took them back to his place.”

Rachel fell back into the seat. This having friends thing was pretty nice so far.

Jack’s place was a freaking mansion behind a huge set of black wrought iron gates no less. Blazing lights illuminated scaffolding along the stone façade where repairs were in progress. Jack drove around to the back of the house.

He parked as close to the house as possible and led Rachel and Sarah to a set of French doors. “Everybody’s probably asleep—”

Yap, yap, yap
. Bandit’s high-pitched alert was followed up with the deep
woof
of a much bigger dog.

A delicate, petite woman with long brown hair opened the door for them. Bandit and a giant German shepherd
vied for the opening. Bandit won. The woman stuck a foot in front of the little dog to block his exit. “Quiet.”

Jack hustled through the doorway, pushing the big dog out of the way. “Back up, Henry.” The shepherd head-butted Jack’s bad leg. “Ooof.”

Beth pointed. “Henry, sit.”

The German shepherd dropped his butt to the floor.

Rachel followed Sarah into a huge and comfortable old kitchen. Despite the grandeur of the house’s exterior, the outdated interior had a homey, broken-in feel. Sarah scooped up Bandit.

“I’m Beth,” the small woman said. She gestured to a tall, fit-looking older woman hustling around the kitchen. A whipcord-lean man of about seventy leaned against the counter. “This is Mrs. Harris and my Uncle James.” Beth’s uncle was watching Rachel with blue eyes too sharp and piercing for a man of his age.

Frowning, Jack kissed Beth. “You should be in bed.”

The top of Beth’s head barely reached Jack’s shoulder. “I’m fine.”

The way Jack’s broad hand kept straying to Beth’s barely discernible baby bump gave Rachel an acute case of the warm and fuzzies. What would it feel like to carry Mike’s child? To have him touch her with that tender joy? And she suddenly needed to sit down.

A chair was under her butt as her legs jellied. Uncle James moved faster than she expected. Mrs. Harris was right behind him. She set a steaming mug on the table. “You look done in, dear. Here’s some tea. Let’s give her some space.” Mrs. Harris tugged on James’s arm. “If there’s anything you need, my door is just beyond the kitchen. Knock anytime. Are you hungry?”

Rachel shook her head.

“Feel free to root through the kitchen,” Beth said as Jack steered her through the doorway. “Sarah, the room next to yours is ready.” Beth tapped her thigh. Henry fell into step behind her.

James hesitated at the door. “You need help getting upstairs?”

“We’ll be fine. Thank you for everything.” Sarah sat down next to Rachel and rubbed her back. Quiet settled over them.

“I feel like I’m having an out-of-brain experience. The thoughts going through my head can’t be mine.” Like those about marriage, babies, and other terrifying events she’d never before contemplated. “I just found him, and I almost lost him.”

“I almost lost you.” Sarah draped an arm over her shoulder. “Again.”

“I’m sorry I put you through that.” Rachel was going to start thinking about others before she just did stuff from now on. Really.

“Not your fault.” Sarah stood and set Bandit on the floor. “Come on. Getting cleaned up will help loads. You want a shower or bath?”

Rachel stood and looked down at her blood-crusted clothes. What she really wanted was to be with Mike. “Both.”

Mike opened his eyes to a hazy, dim room. Something beeped softly next to his head.

“You’re awake? Amazing. We gave you enough juice to put an elephant to sleep.” Quinn was leaning over him and pressing a hand to his shoulder. “Don’t move and don’t freak.”

Mike opened cracked lips. His throat was scratchy and dry, and his mind too hazy to even contemplate freaking. Not to mention the fact that his body weighed about a zillion pounds. He probably couldn’t lift his pinkie finger if he tried. Whatever was chugging through his veins was making him feel very Zen with the whole hospital deal.

Quinn put a plastic spoonful of ice chips in his mouth. The cold liquid in Mike’s mouth was heaven. Quinn moved down to the foot of the bed and lifted the sheet. Panic gave Mike a surge of energy. He struggled to raise his head. “Is it…?”

“It’s OK. Leg’s still here. I’m not going to lie though. It was close. The knife hit a branch of the femoral instead of the main artery. That bit of luck and Sean’s combat first aid training saved your life and your leg.” Quinn’s hand closed around Mike’s foot. “Can you feel that?”

Mike nodded.

“Wiggle your toes.”

The effort was Herculean.

“Good.” Quinn tossed the sheet back over his leg. “And now for the other bit of good news. While you were out, you had your gut scoped.”

“Dammit, Quinn. You can’t just—”

“Normally, I would agree, but you are an extenuating circumstance. I watched the whole thing, by the way. You were very cooperative.”

“I was unconscious.” And the creepy-crawly feeling that gave him was one of the many, many reasons he hated hospitals.

“Exactly.” Quinn nodded. “I thought it might be my only chance.”

Quinn would’ve been right if Mike hadn’t fallen in love with Rachel. While he’d been lying in mud, bleeding, he’d
been more afraid of dying than anything else. He would have done anything to stay alive—to stay with Rachel. Now he understood now why his mother had fought hard and endured so much.

“Anyway, you are the proud owner of an Olympic-sized, but perfectly ordinary ulcer, easily treatable with medication. Aren’t you relieved?”

“Yes,” Mike grumbled, but relief coursed through him like the morphine drip. “How’s Rachel?”

“She’s fine. Treated for minor burns and released a couple of hours ago. I wouldn’t let her in to see you unless she agreed to go home with Jack and get some rest. I also told her there was no way you’d wake up until morning. So it’d be good if you didn’t mention this discussion.”

Mike’s face pulled into a weak smile. “I won’t tell her if you won’t.”

When he opened his eyes again, Sean had taken Quinn’s place in the chair by the bed.

“I’m not going to freak out.”

“So you say.” Sean scooted closer. “But we all remember that panic attack in the ER a few years back. You broke stuff.”

Mike cringed. “Seriously, I can barely lift my head. I don’t need a babysitter.” But having someone by his side didn’t hurt. He was so, so happy to be here instead of dead, but the place still gave him the willies.

“Jack called. He’s bringing Rachel over now. She’s been driving him up the wall since dawn and being a general pain in his ass.”

“So she’s all right.”

“That she is.” Sean snorted. “That is some woman. She literally bashed Gunner’s brains in to protect you. You’d better marry that one ASAP.”

“Plan to.”

Sean laughed. “Those must be good drugs. You didn’t even break a sweat when you said that.”

“Any woman who defends my wounded body with a tree branch is a keeper.”

“Amen.”

“Did Gunner make it?”

“So far.” Sean sounded disgusted. “But he has a serious head injury. Rachel has quite a swing. The doctors don’t know if he’s going to come out of it. The state police detective has been sniffing around. Quinn chased him off, but you’ll have to give a statement.”

“I know.” Worry wormed its way through the drugs. Even if David died, Rachel’s actions were clearly defensive. He’d kidnapped her. He’d tried to kill Mike. There was a clear record of stalking and escalating violence. David was a killer. But Mike wasn’t working the case. He was flat on his back and useless.

Well, damn. Just when he thought he didn’t have anything else to worry about.

Rachel walked in a few minutes later, and Sean ducked out. Watching her cross the room, Mike’s heart doubled in size. Except for a bandaged hand, a few bruises, and a general air of exhaustion, she looked great. Safe. Alive.

His.

Her eyes were misty, and she swiped a hand across her cheek. “I swore I wasn’t going to cry anymore. I don’t think I’ve cried this much in my entire life.”

“Come here.” The tears in her eyes were making him choke up. Mike held out a hand.

She took it gingerly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Everything but the leg is fine.” Mike tugged her closer.

She leaned down and kissed him, then laid her head on his hospital-gowned chest. “I was so afraid.”

Mike untangled his IV line from her hair and wrapped his arms around her. “It’s over. He can’t hurt you again.”

“No, I meant I was afraid I was going to lose you.” She shuddered against him. “I love you.”

Mike stroked her hair. “I love you too. When David had you, I could barely function.”

“But you did, and you found me. But let’s not do any more of that, OK?” she said against his throat. “Let’s just be nice and boring from now on.”

“Good idea.” But Mike honestly didn’t think life with Rachel would ever be boring. He kissed the top of her head. “Are you going to be able to live with what you did?”

“You mean if he dies?”

“Yeah.”

“I watched him stab you. He tried to burn my horses alive.” She picked up her head. Anger lit her eyes. “Yeah, I’m good with it. Though I might have nightmares that I didn’t hit him hard enough.”