Nothing to Fear

  “You’ve been choosing your path all along, Dana.”

  She was quiet a moment, considering the profundity of his words. “Yes, that’s true. And while on some levels I’ve chosen well, others I’ve chosen poorly.”

  “I think that’s called being human. You didn’t answer my question, Dana.”

  “I’m getting there.” She drew a breath. “I’m trying, anyway. You told me that we are the thing that gives us the most satisfaction. Do you remember?”

  How could he forget? “It was right before we made love the first time.”

  She looked up at him, her eyes now intense. “Yes. For me, Ethan, that satisfaction comes from helping people. You were right. It was a penance. But it was also my chosen path. I hope the penance is gone. But it’s still my path.”

  He cupped her cheek in his palm, caressed her bruised skin with his thumb. He needed to touch her. “It doesn’t have to be a single-file path, Dana.” He held his breath, waiting.

  She leaned into his hand, closed her eyes. “I was hoping you’d say that. We’ve gone too far to be just friends, Ethan. Whether we’ll be family . . . I don’t know. It’s too soon to say.” She lifted her eyes to his, vulnerability in their brown depths. “But I want to find out.”

  He lowered his forehead to hers, gently. For now, it would be enough. “So do I. For now, you’ve got a family that’s worried about you. Let me take you home, Dana.”

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chicago, Friday, August 6, 8:45 P.M.

  Clay stopped Ethan’s car outside Max Hunter’s mother’s house where no fewer than ten cars lined the suburban street. “You want me to wait for you two?”

  “If you don’t mind,” Dana answered. “I’m not going to stay long. Caro and Evie need their rest, and quite frankly, I need a bath.”

  Clay grinned back at her. “Well, I wasn’t going to say anything, but yeah, you really do.”

  Dana chuckled. “What was that Lou Moore said about discretion being the better part of valor? You try spending all day in a sweatbox surrounded by garbage and see how pretty you smell. Ethan, are you coming?”

  He’d been staring at her silently, as if just waiting for her to ask and was relieved that she had. “Yes, I am.” Ethan slid out from his side of the car, even more gingerly.

  She knew his head hurt like hell. He’d had another “episode” while they were sitting in the police station, waiting to be debriefed. He’d gone untreated this time as his packet of medicine was somewhere near Caroline’s horseshoe pits where he’d fallen to his knees that morning. It was hard to believe so much could happen in less than a day.

  The two of them looked like casualties from a battlefield, dirty and bruised. They were, Dana supposed. They’d been processed by Mia and Abe, interviewed by the press, and checked out by the EMTs, and now all Dana could think about was a long, hot bath. And sleep. She let her eyes travel up Ethan’s body as he straightened with difficulty. And, of course, sex. Even battered his body turned her on and she felt a pang of guilt at the rise of desire. He was in no shape for anything like that tonight. She had to laugh at herself. Neither am I. But I’d sure like to try.

  Ethan was taking in the cars lining the street. “I think half of Chicago must be here.”

  “It’s the family,” Dana said. “They come when there’s a crisis.”

  Ethan walked her to Max’s mother’s front door and Dana hesitated. “I don’t know what to say to Caroline and Max, Ethan. Their house is gone. It was a local landmark. It had been in their family for generations.”

  He knocked with his good hand, then slid it around her waist. “You didn’t burn their house down, Dana. Sue did. Besides, don’t you think your safety means more to them?”

  The door was opened by Max’s mother, Phoebe, who uttered a startled cry at the sight of Dana on her doorstep. Immediately Dana was enveloped in a hug that made her bruised ribs wince. Phoebe cried over her and kissed her and did all the fussy things mothers do. “I’m so happy to see you.” She looked at Ethan with a raised brow. “Your war he-ro,” she said and Dana laughed.

  “Caroline’s been talking.”

  Phoebe let Dana go with a grin. “And shopping. It’s a humbling sight to see a woman attack three catalogs and QVC both by phone and online. Makes a woman proud.” She held out her hand to Ethan. “It’s nice to meet you, Ethan. You’re always welcome in our home.” She pointed to the back. “Caroline’s back there, holding shopping court.”

  It took them a while to make it to the back as Dana was passed among all the Hunters, hugged and kissed and cried over. She’d expected them to be here for Evie and Caroline, but was taken off guard at the outpouring of love for herself. By the time she got to the back bedroom her own eyes were misty and Ethan was giving her an I-told-you-so look.

  “How many does that make, Max?” Caroline was asking when they went into the bedroom where she lay flat on her back, looking up at the TV mounted from the ceiling.

  “Four king sheets, two queen. All blue,” Max answered dutifully.

  “Good. Evie, now we need some white sheets. Four king, two queen.”

  Dana’s lips curved as Evie ordered more bedsheets, the item up for grabs on the QVC screen. Evie sat in the chair next to Caroline’s bed, wearing a bandage on her head and a robe, but overall looking none the worse for the wear. Dana waited until Evie realized she was there, new tears stinging her eyes when Evie leaped from the chair, a cry of delight on her lips. Then Evie’s arms were around her, holding on so tight Dana gasped for air.

  But she hung on just as tight, rocking Evie where they stood. When she thought she’d burst, Evie pulled back, framing Dana’s face with her hands. “You’re here,” Evie said unsteadily. “You’re really here.”

  Dana smiled at her. “I’m here. All in one piece.” She held Evie at arm’s length, studied her with a critical eye. “You’re looking pretty good yourself, considering.”

  Half of Evie’s mouth curved up. “I’ve certainly looked worse.” She raised her eyes over Dana’s shoulder. “You’re Ethan Buchanan.”

  Ethan’s hand rested lightly on Dana’s back. “I am. It’s nice to finally meet you, Evie.”

  “And you, Ethan.” She didn’t drop her eyes, meeting Ethan’s gaze directly. “You saved her. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” Ethan said quietly. “Thank you. You saved Alec.”

  Ethan never blinked at Evie’s scarred face and Dana watched Evie’s tensed shoulders relax. Her own heart tumbling, Dana wondered if it was possible to fall in love over something as simple as a direct look. But she knew it wasn’t simple at all. It was common decency. It was who Ethan Buchanan was.

  Recovering her composure. Dana tilted Evie’s head sideways, checking out her bandage. “I thought I’d have heart failure when I realized you’d gotten away. Resourceful.”

  Evie cocked a brow, amused. “I didn’t need a SWAT team to spring me.”

  “Just the entire Wheaton fire department,” Caroline drawled from the bed. “Come here, Dana. I need to look at you.”

  Dana sat on the edge of the bed, patient as Caroline scrutinized her, cataloging every bruise. Then Caroline’s lips trembled and her eyes filled. “I needed to see you for myself.”

  Dana dabbed at Caroline’s wet cheeks. “I heard you came through today with flying colors. No contractions and the baby is stable.”

  Caroline’s laugh was shaky. “To stay stable through all this, this baby will be the most easygoing child in the world.”

  “Or the most strong-willed,” Max countered. “I’m betting the latter.”

  Dana grinned at them both. “What are you shopping for?”

  “I have a whole house to refurnish,” Caroline said, a gleam in her eyes. “And insurance money to do it with. Evie’s helping me with linens and accessories. I assigned Max’s sisters to buy the furniture herself.”

  Dana’s smile dimmed. “I’m sorry. Your house . . .”

  “Is just a house, Dana,” Max
said firmly. “We’ll build a new one. What’s important is that we have all of you back.” His voice roughened and he cleared his throat. “Safe.”

  Reaching over Caroline, Dana grabbed Max’s hand. “Was anything left?”

  He shook his head. “Not much. Tom and David are over there now, sifting through the rubble. What the fire didn’t get, the water from the fire trucks did.”

  “Leaving me with nothing to do for the next few weeks except lie flat on my back and shop,” Caroline said firmly. “Ooh, look. Now they’re doing lamps. What do you think?”

  Dana twisted around and looked up at the television. “They’re hideous, Caroline.”

  Caroline smiled benignly. “I like them. Evie, let’s get two for the spare bedroom.”

  “Ooh, look, cookware online,” Evie said, mimicking Caroline and pointing to her laptop with a grin. “Copper pots.”

  Dana laughed. “My cue to leave.” She dropped a kiss on Caroline’s forehead. “I’ll come by tomorrow and smuggle you in a chili dog.”

  “Which will then terminate any and all clandestine activities,” Caroline murmured, just loud enough for her to hear. “We’re too old for all this cloak and dagger stuff, Dana. Besides, this baby’s godmother needs to stay out of jail.”

  Dana’s lips twitched. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Chicago, Saturday, August 7, 10:25 A.M.

  The phone woke him. Groaning, Ethan fumbled for the receiver with his good hand. His right arm throbbed like a bitch and he felt like every inch of his body had been pounded with a meat tenderizer. “Yeah?”

  “It’s Mia. You guys alive?”

  Ethan blinked at the clock. They’d been sleeping for nearly twelve hours. “Kind of.”

  “The fog after an adrenaline rush,” Mia clucked sympathetically. “Is Dana awake?”

  He peered down through eyes that felt like they’d been rubbed with sand. “Kind of.”

  “Well, tell her I have someone here that she’ll want to talk to.”

  Ethan shook Dana’s shoulder. “Wake up.”

  She made a grumpy sound. “Don’t want to.”

  “It’s Mia.”

  Glaring at him, Dana pushed her hair from her eyes and took the phone. “Hello?” Instantly her expression changed and she sat up. “Naomi, sweetheart.” It was a soft croon. Motherly. Ethan racked his brain, then remembered. Naomi was the daughter of Dana’s former client. The one who’d been killed by her husband the week before.

  “I’m fine, honey. I’m really fine . . .” Dana smiled. “I’ve wanted to see you all week . . .” Her smile faltered. “I know, baby. I know what happened . . .” She swallowed hard as she listened. “Ben might have those dreams a long time, Naomi. Are you sleeping? . . . Of course I will. Today. Put Detective Mitchell back on, okay?” She sighed and rubbed her forehead, waiting. “Where are they, Mia?” She winced. “Is it a good foster home? Those babies have been through hell. They need to be with people who can help them deal with the trauma. When can I see them? . . . Fine, then. I’ll meet you in the hotel lobby in an hour.” She hung up the phone and sagged back into the pillows with a sigh.

  “The Goodman kids?” Ethan asked.

  “Yeah. I kept thinking this whole thing was over for me, but it’s just starting for them.”

  “You’ll be able to help them through it,” he murmured.

  She closed her eyes. “I’m going to try. I’m sorry, Ethan. I know you drive home with Clay tomorrow to clear things up in Maryland. I wanted to spend all day with you, but those kids have been hanging on for over a week now.”

  He’d been planning to ask her to come to Maryland with him, but now he knew he couldn’t. “They need you, too.”

  She opened her eyes. “Too?”

  Her sad smile made his heart hurt. “I told you I needed you, Dana. I didn’t mean for just one night or just to get me through this thing with Alec.”

  She regarded him evenly for a long moment. “Then I think we should start working on those details that stand in our way, Ethan. Your residence and my work.”

  Panic started to gnaw at his gut. “I need to be close to Alec. If Randi chooses to keep him in Baltimore, I need to live there. Would you live there with me?”

  Indecision warred in her eyes. Everything she had, everyone she knew, was here. He knew that. He knew what he was asking and what it would cost her to agree. He honestly didn’t expect her to, so he was stunned when she nodded.

  “Ethan, I woke up again last night.” She grimaced. “Same dream, we were just back to my mother’s face. But you were there and you put your arm around me and held me.”

  “I don’t even remember waking up.”

  “You didn’t. You just did it automatically. I’ve never had anyone make me feel like you do, Ethan. I can’t walk away from this. From you.” She reached up and ran her fingers down the stubble of his cheek. “I owe you so much. You saved me, but not just from Sue.

  “You saved me from myself, Ethan. That’s what Evie meant yesterday. That’s what I mean now. What I want now is the time to find out if what we have is the stuff that lasts forever. Like Caroline and Max have. Like Richard had with his wife. If I have to move to Baltimore to have that time, I think I owe it to us both, don’t you?”

  He swallowed hard, humbled and moved. “Yeah, I do.” He kissed the corner of her mouth, still raw from her ordeal. “Did I hear you tell Mia you’d be ready in an hour?”

  Her little smile became big and instantly his body responded. “Fifty-five minutes now.”

  “How long does it take you to really get ready?”

  “I’m a low-maintenance kind of girl. Wash and go. Twenty minutes, tops. So we have thirty-five minutes, Ethan.” She eased him to his back, her hand flat on his chest. “And given your current condition, I think you should let me do all the work.” Her hand moved lower and she chuckled. “Well, maybe not all.”

  Ethan shuddered out a breath. Arched as she took him in hand. “Stop talking, Dana.”

  “Yessir.”

  Epilogue

  Chicago, Saturday, October 9, 3:30 P.M.

  Cheers erupted, the noise startling him for a split second, then Tom Hunter gave him a gentle shove, pointing to first base. Alec dropped the bat and ran as fast as he could, hitting the base in a slide. Proudly he stood up, brushed himself off, and looked to third where Ethan stood, giving him the thumbs up. It was a party with the Hunters, an outdoor picnic with a softball game. He knew most of the Hunters. Most of them had visited him in the hospital. They were celebrating the fact that Max and Caroline’s new house finally had a roof. They hoped to be in it in time for Christmas, Tom had told him.

  Told him. Caroline’s son Tom Hunter had talked and Alec had listened. He’d guessed at some of the words, read Tom’s lips, but in the end, he’d understood on his own. He’d made strides with his new therapist. Not a private one as Cheryl had been. He still missed her. But this new lady was almost as good. She worked in his school, the public school he’d started last month. Here in Chicago, back in his mom’s hometown.

  Alec frowned. His mom. Not Sue Conway. Randi Vaughn was and would always be his mother. And Stan Vaughn, no matter what he had done, would always be his father. Alec knew what his father had done. He’d read the newspapers. He knew his father would serve time. But that was small compared to the hurt in his mother’s eyes when she’d told him his father had cheated with other women and that she was divorcing him.

  She’d worked it out with Uncle Ethan so that they all moved back to Chicago. A grandmother he didn’t know had died recently and left them some money. Enough for a little house of their own. But they seemed to spend more time with Dana and her family.

  He watched Evie take the plate, clutch the bat as best she could. He got ready to run. He was getting good at running. He and Ethan ran every day. He was stronger now, and faster. And when Evie bunted the ball, he ran his fastest and made it to second while Ethan sprinted for home plate where Dana greeted him with a big sloppy kiss.
br />   He’d gotten used to them kissing. They did it a lot, especially today, since they’d started today’s party announcing their engagement. Ethan had told him that morning, when he picked him and his mom up. Told him with his hands, signing the words. Ethan’s signs were clumsy, but he was trying, even taking a night class at the local college. Ethan had learned more in two months than his father had learned . . . in his whole life. But he wouldn’t think about his father now. Tom was at bat and Alec wanted a run on his personal record.

  “Look at him,” Dana murmured, leaning into Ethan. “He’s having the time of his life.”

  Ethan pulled Dana closer, her back to his front, his arms around her waist. He rested his chin on the top of her head and watched Alec poised, waiting for Tom to hit the ball out of the field. “He’s having a good time,” Ethan said, watching Alec’s face. “I’m glad we did this today. Stan’s trial started yesterday. Alec’s been a little depressed.”

  Dana sighed. “Why Stan didn’t just take a plea and save Alec and Randi the pain?”

  “I used to make excuses for him, to try to understand. I guess, sometimes you just can’t.” Stan would be found guilty, they knew. He’d probably serve only a year or two in a minimum security facility, but he’d lost his family in the long term, more because of his infidelity than his financial dishonesty. Clay’s cooperation would ensure Stan’s conviction as well as guaranteeing no charges were filed against Clay. That had been a huge relief.

  An even bigger relief was the future Sue Conway faced. The State’s Attorney’s offices in three states were going for the death penalty—Illinois, Maryland, and Florida. But even if her miserable life was spared, she’d never walk the streets again. There was consolation in that fact, even if it didn’t eliminate Dana’s or Alec’s nightmares.

  Ethan kissed the top of Dana’s head. “Looks like Naomi and Ben are having a good time.” Dana had applied for guardianship of Lillian Goodman’s children. She’d tried to go for a legal adoption, but their murdering father blocked them, suing for his parental rights from jail, but Dana wouldn’t give up. She planned to fight for these kids, to give them the life Lillian had wanted them to have. The life her own mother hadn’t fought to give her.