If not, he’d be back at square one.
As for that damned phantom book, Striker would just have to keep looking.
He slid the photographs back into the file, pausing for one last glimpse of Randi. Man, she was sexy...probably too sexy for her own damned good.
* * *
“So, all in all, you were lucky.” Dr. Nimmo peered at Slade through wire-rimmed glasses. A short man in a too long lab coat and loosened tie, he’d finished examining Slade and had talked in medical terms about tests, X-rays, MRIs—all of which Slade had endured in the past two days.
“Funny, but I don’t feel particularly lucky.”
“I suppose not, but it could have been so much worse. You have a cracked vertebra, L-3 or lumbar three, and there was some pressure on your spinal cord, but the cord’s intact.”
“No damage?”
“Nothing serious to the cord. You’ll be fine and soon. As I said, lucky.”
“So I’ll walk again?”
“Yes.”
A two-ton weight lifted from Slade’s shoulders. “When?”
“I can’t say. It may take some time, but, unless something unforeseen happens, you should be on your feet again. You might need some physical therapy, but no surgery...now we just have to wait.”
“When can I go home?”
“We’ll see,” Nimmo said, marking Slade’s chart. “I’ll have a better idea in a day or two.” He exited the room with a clipped-heel march and Slade stared out the window to the parking lot. The snow had stopped falling, but all the cars in the lot were covered with a blanket of white, the shrubbery hidden, the asphalt visible in black patches where the heat from exhaust and tread from tires had worn through the icy mantle.
He glanced at the clock and thought he’d go out of his mind. His family had visited and Nicole, it seemed, at least for the first thirty-six hours, had kept a vigil. A couple of times she’d mentioned Jamie, but Slade had refused to be pulled into that conversation. He thought of her nearly every waking moment, remembering what she’d said while he was drifting in and out of unconsciousness, recalling in vivid detail their lovemaking in the barns, fields and backseat of his Chevy that hot summer so many years ago. Then there was their recent encounter in the hayloft a few days ago. While the snow had drifted down and some jerk had trip-wired the door, they’d made love the way it was supposed to be. Hot, passionate... Her image came to mind and for the first time in days he felt a twitch...the hint of feeling...below his waist.
Was it possible? He tried to move his legs and failed, so he closed his eyes, conjured up Jamie’s face—white skin softly dusted with freckles across the bridge of her straight nose. Lips that were full and stretched across the sexiest set of teeth he’d ever seen. And her eyes...an interesting shade of hazel that had darkened with desire when they’d been in the hayloft. Her kiss had sizzled, her hands, skimming down his body, touching and exploring, had caused his skin to fire and her tongue, wet, slick, agile...
There it was again.
The sensation in his crotch was familiar. And oh, so welcome. He felt himself thicken for a second...just enough time to give him a sliver of hope.
* * *
“I’m sorry, Jamie, but Slade doesn’t want to see you.” Nicole’s voice was firm, but she couldn’t hide the edge of concern in her words. “He’s been moved to a private room, but he’s been very insistent.”
“Why?” Jamie asked, her heart breaking.
“I don’t know.”
“Is he walking?”
“He’s trying.”
“But he has feeling in his legs?”
“Yes. Look, technically I can’t give out this kind of information. You know that.”
“Of course I do. I’m a lawyer. I’ve had the classes, but I need to know, damn it.”
“Please...just be patient.”
“I’ll try,” Jamie lied, but the minute she hung up the phone, she grabbed her jacket and threw it over her jeans and sweater. She pulled on her boots and took the time to pet Lazarus and feed Caesar, then climbed into her car. She tore out of her grandmother’s driveway and caught a glimpse of the For Sale sign at the end of the lane. Snow clung to the post supporting the sign, and her grandmother’s advice to never sell the place echoed through her mind.
She felt a moment’s regret and considered staying in Grand Hope. She was at home here. The house was paid for. She could start her own firm, hang up her shingle, maybe find another attorney who wanted a partner and someone to share expenses. She had a home complete with cat, horse and vintage car. What more could she want?
The answer was blindingly simple. She wanted Slade. And she’d always gone after what she wanted with a vengeance. She snapped on the radio.
Jamie turned toward town. Toward the hospital. Toward Slade McCafferty.
* * *
Slade fell onto the bed. Drenched in sweat from the effort of trying to force his damned legs to move as the physical therapist had urged him along a contraption that looked like parallel bars straight out of the Olympics from hell, he’d trudged slowly, the length of the contraption looking a hundred miles long rather than a mere eight or ten feet.
From physical therapy he’d been wheeled back to his room and now the damned wheelchair was parked in a corner, wedged between a tiny closet and the bed, mocking him for his dismal effort today.
It’s going to take time, he’d been warned by his doctors and Thorne who had handed him a burned piece of metal...the pocket watch his father had given him. It sat on the rolling stand next to a box of tissue and a water pitcher. Slade reached for the timepiece and remembered his father’s insistence that it was time for his youngest son to settle down, to get married, to start a family. Well, he’d tried that. And failed. Twice.
Pain started rolling down his legs and he winced, but was grateful for the sensation, for the misery. With pain came hope that he would be whole again.
He’d just closed his eyes when he heard someone enter. Don’t bother me, he thought, then got a whiff of perfume...a scent he recognized. His heart jumped into overdrive.
“Slade?”
“I thought I told everyone I didn’t want to see you.” He didn’t open his eyes. Didn’t think he could bear the sight of Jamie.
“But I thought it was a crock. So I sneaked past security. It wasn’t that tough. You know the nurses, doctors and aides, they have other patients to deal with. I know sometimes you think you’re the center of the universe, but not everyone feels the same.”
He almost laughed. Almost.
“I think you said you didn’t want to see me because it’s some kind of macho thing with you, because of the accident. Face it, McCafferty, you’re in denial.”
“So now you’re a shrink.”
She hesitated. Taking a quick breath, she said slowly, “Just someone who cares.”
Oh, God, did he dare believe her? No way. She was doing the noble thing, being the doting woman, playing a part. He remembered what she’d said to him, the vehemence of her words.
“Go away.”
“No.”
“I’ll call the nurse.”
“Then I’ll be back.”
“I could have you arrested.”
“Go ahead.”
He couldn’t stop himself. His eyes flew open, and he found himself staring into the most beautiful face he’d ever seen. Her hair was pinned haphazardly to the top of her head, some of the strands falling in disarray, she wasn’t wearing any makeup that he could discern and yet she was drop-dead gorgeous.
“I thought you were marrying Chuck.”
“Nope. Never. He knew it. I knew it.”
“But you told me...”
“You were being a jerk, if I recall.” She grabbed his hand. “We’ve been through this once before—a long time ago when you left me and I never had the chance to say what I felt. This time I’m not going to blow it, okay? This time I want you to understand. I love you. It’s that simple. It might not make any sense—in fa
ct, it might not be the smartest emotion I’ve ever embraced, but it’s true. I love you. And it doesn’t matter that you’re injured. It doesn’t even matter if you don’t completely heal. I love you.”
His throat felt thick. He wanted to argue with her, to tell her that she was wrong, but he saw the conviction in her gaze, felt her take his hand and squeeze, noticed that tears had formed in the corners of her eyes.
“I’m...I’m really sorry about the baby.” He forced the words out.
“Me, too...both of them...” A tear slid down her face. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He saw her pain, understood.
“Two children... Oh, God, Slade, you’ve lost two. I wish there was something I could say or something I could do...”
His jaw was so tight it ached. How many times had he looked at Thorne’s stepdaughters or little J.R. and thought of the children he’d never met? And now... He cleared his throat, fought his own tears. “Life goes on.”
“And there will be more.”
“Maybe not.” He found that hard to believe, because even just looking at her he felt a twitch, a heating in his groin.... Oh, yeah, staring at her he began to grow hard. He smiled despite the pain. “There’s no guarantee that this isn’t permanent,” he said.
“I know.”
“You could—”
She pressed a finger to his lips. “There’s no guarantees in life period, Slade. We both know that. We’ve both suffered enough. But...and this is a big point, I want to spend the rest of my life facing those challenges with you.”
She withdrew her hand and he stared up at her. “That sounds damned close to a proposal.”
One side of her mouth lifted. “See...you’re smarter than you look.”
“What about your job?”
“I’ve already quit. What about yours?”
“That’s kinda up in the air right now. I had thought about...” His voice drifted away again. He didn’t want to think about what he might not be able to do.
“What?”
He let his gaze slide away.
“What, damn it?”
“Before this, I’d thought...well, I figured I might take my share of the proceeds from the ranch and start a business. Tours. White-water cruises. Hiking expeditions. Skiing vacations, maybe even start my own dude ranch, advertise to city people...that sort of thing. But that was before the accident.”
“So everything’s changed?”
“Yes,” he said. “Until I walk again.”
“Well, you’re right. Things have changed. But whether you walk again or not—and the way I hear it, you will—you could still run the business, maybe not be the guide per se, but you could still organize the trips, go out and explore. And you’d have me. I could help...well, in between making a fortune as the primary partner in the law firm of Jamie Parsons, Attorney-at-Law.”
“It would never work.”
“You’re right. With that attitude.” She leaned over the bed rail. “Come on, Slade. Don’t give up. We lost each other once. Let’s not do it again. What do you say?”
Nearly ripping out his IV, he wrapped a hand around the back of her head and pulled her face to his. His lips found hers and it felt so right, so natural. The hospital room seemed to fade away, and in his mind’s eye, he saw the future with Jamie as his wife and kids surrounding them. They were all running through a field of tall grass, one little girl on Slade’s shoulders, Jamie holding the hands of two older boys. Their kids. The sun was bright, reflecting on the waters of a clear creek that ran through the field....
“What do I say?” he repeated into her open mouth, his nose touching hers. “Haven’t I been saying it ever since I saw you again? I love you. I always have. You’re the one who wouldn’t listen. I’ve spent every waking hour of the past few weeks trying to convince you that we should start over, because you’re the one woman in the world for me. The one. Do you hear me, Jamie Parsons, Attorney-at-Law?”
She gave out a soft little moan as he released her. “I hear you, cowboy. Loud and clear.”
Slade’s throat tightened, and he felt her tears falling against his face.
“All right, Counselor, you win. I’ll marry you.”
She laughed and wiped at her eyes. “How romantic.”
“It will be,” he promised, pulling her face to his again, heat racing through his veins. From the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of the charred pocket watch. Yeah, old man, he thought, feeling as if his father could see him. You were right. It is time for me to settle down. With this woman. Forever.
Epilogue
The wedding was perfect. Half the town of Grand Hope had been packed into a tiny church near the old railway station and now the ranch house, bedecked with holly, candles, fir boughs and hundreds of tiny lights, was jam-packed. It was two weeks after Christmas but the ceremony, like the Christmas festivities at the Flying M, had been postponed until Slade had been released from the hospital.
Jamie had held her breath, half expecting another tragedy to befall the McCafferty clan, but in the three weeks since the fire at the stables, things had been quiet. And Slade was healing. Slowly, but surely.
Music played from speakers throughout the house and most of the guests wandered through the living room, dining room and kitchen as well as the back porch that had been draped with insulated tenting material and festooned with billowing lace and warmed by dozens of space heaters.
Matt, dressed in a black Western-cut suit, and Kelly, in a sparkling wedding dress, danced and kissed, laughing with the guests and, it seemed, paying particular attention to Kelly’s parents.
Jamie had heard there had been bad feelings when Matt had started dating Kelly, as her mother, Eva, had once worked for John Randall and somehow gotten the shaft financially. Though no one was saying too much, Jamie had come to the conclusion that John Randall’s heirs had made it up to the Dillingers. Even Karla, Kelly’s sister, who, Kelly had insisted, had sworn off men, was dancing and drinking champagne and flirting with some of the unattached male guests. She’d streaked her hair a dozen shades of blond for the event and was an interesting, if unconventional maid of honor.
Randi, too, was mingling with the single men and dancing. To Jamie’s amusement, Kurt Striker watched her every move. Was he acting as her bodyguard or a potential lover? The twins were having a ball. Dressed in matching red velvet dresses, white tights and black shoes, they tore through the guests, only to be picked up by this uncle or that and swept around the dance floor.
Even the baby, in a tiny tuxedo complete with bright red bow tie, little cummerbund and snap crotch, made an appearance. Jamie’s heart filled...to be a part of this family was overwhelming. She’d watched as Thorne had toasted the couple, then cast his own wife a sexy smile.
But as she glanced outside, Jamie saw the stables, barely more than a patch of rubble, with a few remaining blackened posts visible. Throughout the service and reception, she’d noticed the ever-vigilant bodyguards and undercover police, half expecting another attack.
She heard movement behind her. “Care to dance?” Slade said from his wheelchair.
She grinned down at him. “With a scoundrel like you?”
The gleam in his eye was wicked. “A guy can hope.”
“I would love to.”
“Good.” He pushed himself out of the chair and teetered a bit.
“Oh! I thought you were kidding!” He’d improved with the physical therapy, of course, could sometimes walk with a crutch, but this...
“Come on...” He winked at her. “You won’t let me fall, will you?”
“Never.”
He swept her into his arms and listed a bit, then when she gasped, grinned down at her. “Gotcha.”
“You miserable...” His arms surrounded her. “You’re right. You do have me, Slade McCafferty,” she admitted, “and I’m here to tell you, you’ll never get rid of me.”
“Even if I try?”
??
?Especially then.” She winked at him and thought of the nights they’d spent together since he’d been released from the hospital, the lovemaking, gentle at first, but intense as he’d healed.
They danced a few bars and then she saw the beads of perspiration dotting his brow. “Whoa...cowboy. I think you’ve had enough for one day. Besides, you’ve got to save your strength.”
“Do I? What have you got in mind?”
“A special little dinner...just you and me...in bed.” They’d converted the dining room in her grandmother’s house to a living room and Slade had been staying with her. “I think we need to celebrate.”
“Because Matt’s no longer a bachelor.”
“Hmm. That, too.”
“And because you’ve agreed to marry me.”
“Yes, that, and it was you who agreed to marry me. But there’s something else.”
“No one’s ruined the wedding.”
She helped him off the dance floor and they stood, propped against the staircase. “I guess that could be part of it.”
“There’s something else?”
“Oh, yeah.” Her eyes twinkled. “I have a surprise for you.”
“What is it?”
“Something special. But it won’t be delivered until late next summer.”
“Can I wait that long?”
“You’d better.” She saw a spark of understanding in his eyes. “Because then, cowboy, you’re gonna be a daddy.”
She saw the emotion in his eyes, the way his throat worked. “Jamie...I... You don’t know what this means to me. I’ve lost two children already. Nothing...nothing could make me happier!” Without another word, he kissed her hard. As if he would never let her go.
“Let’s elope,” he finally whispered into her ear, and she grinned widely. “Tonight.”
“I...I...but...”
“Come on, Counselor, where’s your sense of adventure?”
“It’s with you,” she said.
“Then let’s go. Time’s awastin’, and there’s been enough of that already.” He took her hand and, walking unsteadily, wended his way through the crowd, only stopping long enough to whisper something to his sister. “Don’t tell a soul until tomorrow,” he warned, then pressed a kiss to his nephew’s head.