The Novels of Nora Roberts, Volume 5 (119 page)

“You’re lucky he didn’t just blast away at you. What if he hadn’t wanted to chat for a minute?”

“I’d have shot him.” She put her own gun back in her holster, then Eckle’s in her belt. “Another fraction of a second . . . I’m glad I didn’t have to. Glad you broke his goddamn face instead.”

She let out a long breath, then crouched. “Good dogs! You’re such good dogs. You found Eckle.”

She had her arms around the dogs and her head on Simon’s chest when the cops rushed the clearing.

 

 

 

IT TOOK HOURS MORE, hours that seemed like days. Questions, reports, more questions, the briefing.

Mantz walked over to shake her hand. “I still say you’d make a good agent.”

“Maybe, but I’m really looking forward to the quiet life.”

“Good luck with it.” Bending, she petted Newman, who’d yet to leave Fiona’s side. “Good dog,” she said, and when Fiona cocked a brow, laughed. “I guess they’ve changed my mind about the species. See you around.”

From Tawney, she got a hug.

“Don’t wait until there’s trouble to come see me,” she murmured. “Because I’m done with trouble, but not with you.”

“You gave me a whole new patch of gray hair today. I’d say take care of yourself, but you already do. We’re going to need to do some follow-ups.”

“Anytime.”

“Go home.” He kissed her forehead. “Get some sleep.”

Since she nearly dozed off on the drive home she didn’t think that would be a problem.

“I’m going to have a shower, then I’m going to eat whatever’s in the refrigerator, then I’m going to sleep for twelve hours.”

“I’ve got a couple things to do, then we’ll both eat whatever’s in the fridge.”

She started out, stopped. “Would you check, see if there’s any update on Starr’s condition? I know it looks bad for her, but maybe . . . We hate losing one.”

“I’ll check. Have your shower.”

She wallowed in it, basked, lingered. Then, tying her wet hair back in a tail, pulled on cotton pants and a soft, faded tee. Comfort, she thought. She wanted nothing but comfort.

And the start, please God, of her quiet life.

She picked up the little penknife she’d set on her dresser, pressed it to her cheek. “You’d be happy for me,” she murmured. Setting it down, she studied herself in the mirror. She looked a little tired, she thought, but she didn’t look like hell.

She looked, she thought with a smile, free.

As she started downstairs, she frowned at the quick toot of a horn. She loved her friends, but God, she just wanted to eat and sleep. No more talk.

But she found Simon in the kitchen, alone with the dogs.

“Who was here?”

“When? Oh, James. I needed a hand with something. Here.” He shoved a cracker with a thin slice of cheese on top into her mouth.

“Good,” she managed over it. “More.”

He shoved a second in. “That’s it. Now you make your own. Here.” He pushed a glass of wine in her hand.

“Did you call the hospital?”

“She’s critical. Exposure, dehydration, shock. She’s got broken fingers, a broken jaw. There’s more. He had considerable time to pound on her, and he used it. She’s got a decent shot.”

“Okay.”

“Eckle’s got a few problems of his own.” He glanced at his own bandaged hands.

“He earned them.” She took those bandaged hands and made him mutter to himself when she kissed them.

“He was writing a book.”

“What?”

“You took a long shower,” Simon pointed out. “Davey filled in some blanks. She was, too. It looks like Eckle did some editing on hers, added some material.”

“God.” Closing her eyes, she pressed the wineglass to her brow. “You were right. He wanted to be someone.”

“Still does. According to Davey, he waived a lawyer and hasn’t shut up. He wants to talk, wants to give details. He’s proud of himself.”

“Proud.” She repeated the word, gave in to one shudder.

“And he’s finished. He’s done. Like Perry.”

“Yes.” She opened her eyes, lowered the glass. She thought of the prison walls, the bars, the guns, the guards. “He didn’t get that blaze of glory, not the kind he wanted. I think we should sit outside, watch the dogs, drink this wine, then eat like maniacs. Because we can.”

“Not yet. Bring the wine. I want to show you something.”

“Is it more food?”

He took her arm and pulled her into the dining room—where the table, she noted, was sadly empty of food. “Okay. I really hope you don’t want fun on the dining room table because I don’t think I’ve got it in me tonight. Now tomorrow—” She broke off as she spotted the wine cabinet. “Oh!”

She rounded the table in a flash. “Oh, it’s
wonderful
. The wood’s like chocolate silk and heavy cream. And the doors? Those are dogwoods. It’s just, oh . . .” She opened the doors, danced in place. “It’s just absolutely fabulous. Every detail. It’s charming and fun and beautiful.”

“It suits you.”

She spun around. “Is it
mine
? Oh my God, Simon—”

Before she could rush him, he held up a hand. “It depends. I’m thinking a trade. I’ll give it to you, but since it’s going to stay here, that means you stay, too.”

She opened her mouth, shut it again. Picked up the wine she’d set on the table, sipped. “I can have the cabinet if I live here, with you?”

“I’m the one who lives here, so yeah, with me. This house is bigger than yours. You’ve got the woods, but I’ve got the woods and the beach. The dogs have more room. And I need my shop.”

“Hmmm.”

“You can keep doing your classes here, or you can move them back. Keep the house for the business. Or sell it. Or rent it out. But if you want that, you stay.”

“That’s some interesting bartering.”

“You started it.” He slid his thumbs into the front pockets of his jeans. “I figure we got through some of the worst anybody gets through. And here we are. I don’t see the point in wasting time. So, you want the cabinet, you live here. We should probably get married.”

She choked, managed to swallow the wine. “We should probably?”

“I’m not coming up with some fancy proposal.”

“How about something between we-should-probably and fancy?”

“Do you want to get married?”

Now she laughed. “I guess that’s between. Well, I want the cabinet. I want you. So . . . yeah, I guess I want to get married.”

“It’s a good deal,” he said as he stepped to her.

“It’s a very good deal.” She laid her hands on his cheeks. “Simon.”

He pressed his lips to her right palm, then the left. “I love you.”

“I know.” She slid into his arms. “It’s the best feeling in the world, knowing. And every time I look at that cabinet, put a glass in, take a bottle out, I’ll know it. It’s an incredible gift.”

“It’s a trade.”

“Of course.” She laid her lips on his, lingered.

She was free, she thought, and she was loved. And she was home.

“Let’s go tell the boys,” she murmured.

“Right. I’m sure they’ll want champagne and cigars.” Still he took her hand to walk out. “Let’s make it fast. I’m starving.”

He made her laugh, and that, she thought, was another very good deal.

Table of Contents

 

 

 

Honest Illusions
Private Scandals
Hidden Riches
True Betrayals
Montana Sky
Born in Fire
Born in Ice
Born in Shame
Daring to Dream
Holding the Dream
Finding the Dream
Sanctuary
Homeport
Sea Swept
Rising Tides
Inner Harbor
The Reef
River’s End
Jewels of the Sun
Carolina Moon
Tears of the Moon
Heart of the Sea
The Villa
From the Heart
Midnight Bayou
Dance Upon the Air
Heaven and Earth
Face the Fire
Chesapeake Blue
Birthright
Remember When
(with J. D. Robb)
Key of Light
Key of Knowledge
Key of Valor
Northern Lights
Blue Dahlia
Black Rose
Blue Smoke
Red Lily
Angels Fall
Morrigan’s Cross
Dance of the Gods
Valley of Silence
High Noon
Tribute
Black Hills
Vision in White
Bed of Roses
Savor the Moment
The Search
Happy Ever After

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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