Silent Scream

  A white pain filled her. She screamed and screamed. Her body started to fall, but he grabbed her, half-carrying, half-dragging her to his truck where he shoved her inside and then climbed behind the wheel. “Shut up!” he yelled, slamming his fist across her face, her stomach.

  Still, she screamed.

  He grabbed her throat and squeezed.

  Maddie gasped and slumped against the passenger door. Darkness danced in her vision. Despite the fog coating her brain and the pain blistering her arm, she thought, Sweet Jesus, he’s going to kill me.

  Maddie bolted upright in bed and clutched the covering in her hand. Her gaze darted around the room, expecting to see Morrell lunging toward her, gun poised.

  Stillness. Moonlight glistened off the snow, radiating that brilliance. Light poured in around the window panes. "Oh, God," she whispered, breaking the silence with rasping gulps. She lifted a hand to her forehead and began massaging her temples, trying to erase the pain.

  As she threw her legs over the edge of the bed and started to stand, she thought of Gabriel, as she had for the last two months, and wished he were with her. Shivering, she folded her arms across her chest and cautiously headed toward the kitchen. As she walked, she flipped on every light switch she passed, comforted by the sudden, overwhelming brilliance which chased the darkness to the far corners.

  In the kitchen, she started a pot of coffee, only spilling a little water despite the violent trembling of her hands. While waiting for the coffee to brew, she sat at the table and plucked the wallet from her purse. Inside a zippered compartment, she found what she sought--a business card.

  Gabriel's card--the one he'd given her when she was lying in that hospital bed.

  She ran her fingers over the black, embossed letters, comforted by the feel of his name. For a few seconds, she even entertained the idea of calling him, but facing a clock that read 3:30, logic won over. The last thing he needed was Maddie interrupting his sleep, and all for what? A nightmare? No, thanks. She didn't want him to know she was crazy, now did she? Besides, he'd been more than kind to her. Did she really want to take such advantage of that hospitality?

  Smelling the scent of coffee brewing, she turned her focus back to the pot and relaxed as she saw the steaming liquid seeping into the glass container. "Thank God," she whispered, brushing the hair from her face. She stood, pulled a mug from the shelf, and poured herself a cup. As she set the mug on the table, she glanced at her newly healed arm. A twinge ached through it. Twisting her wrist from side to side, Maddie frowned over it, wondering if the pain came from not being completely healed. It really didn’t ache much, except when she remembered certain things. She traced the length of her arm, relieved to be free of that bulky cast. As she touched her skin, the memory of that night came back to her--the resounding snap of her bone giving way.

  Maddie tried to blink away the image of her attacker, but it had burned itself into her brain. In a hurry to divert her thoughts, she picked up her mug and spilled a scattering of coffee into her lap.

  Maddie paled and flinched. "Geez, that's hot!" For the next few moments, her skin burned. She could feel her heart racing. Her breathing turned shallow, and she felt herself on the verge of hyperventilating. Setting the mug back on the table, she closed her eyes, reaching for something—anything to take her mind off that last memory.

  Then she saw it--Gabriel's face. She heard his deep voice whispering, "It's all right, Maddie. You're safe." His dark eyes peered at her reassuringly, and a soft smile touched his lips.

  She clung to that image, comforted and yet confused. It seemed as though he had become her peace these days, her comfort, as there had been many nights like this when she'd thought of him. But she'd had a life before Gabriel Martin had come into it. She'd lived without hearing his voice, seeing his smile, or feeling his touch. She’d been whole.

  Or had she?

  Did it matter at this point? Even if she questioned her own motives for feeling this way, she didn't question Gabriel's. He'd been so patient with her, worked so hard to protect her, and had wanted so much to help her rebuild. Even if he saw her now, at best case, he would think kindly of her because in helping her, she'd eased some of the pain of losing Jessie. At worst case, she would forever be a victim in his eyes. Either way, she couldn't be someone he'd ever want to ask out. Still, Maddie couldn't shake the desire to see him again, even if only to say thanks.

  "Well, you said I could always bring Donner some treats," she whispered, peering once again at clock hands that had barely moved. 3:45. She wished not for the first time just to see dawn spread pink and blue across the horizon.

  * * *

  "Tetris again," Gabriel muttered, trying to shove the last pan amid a full load in the dishwasher. Frowning, he squatted and pulled out four dishes to accommodate the larger pans and then set the plates on the counter. He poured the powdered soap into the slots and closed the door before starting the machine.

  "You missed a few," Ramsey said, leaning on the counter behind Gabriel.

  Gabriel turned and glared. "I was saving them for you.”

  Donner barked at the door and scratched twice, his code for needing to go outside. “Looks like you’re being paged,” Ramsey said. He pointed out Donner’s plaintive eyes peering at Gabriel.

  Gabriel carried the plates to the sink to wait for the next load. “Why does everybody think that dog is my responsibility?”

  Ramsey laughed and handed Gabriel the leash. “Because Donner tells us you are, and Donner never lies.”

  Gabriel reluctantly accepted the leash, “And none of you other bozos wants to freeze his ass off, does he?” He snapped the leash onto Donner’s collar.

  Gabriel looked down at his navy sweatshirt and then slipped his arms into the sleeves of his coat before opening the door. The cold air greeted them, and Donner lurched forward, dragging Gabriel into the morning light. “Easy does it.” Gabriel tugged on the leash to restrain the dog. As soon as the two of them had walked to the fence, Donner immediately took care of his business as a red Camry pulled into the fire station parking lot. Gabriel squinted at the unfamiliar car and tried to peer inside to catch a glimpse of the driver, but the windows were darkly tinted. “We rarely get visitors,” he muttered, watching as the driver’s door opened.

  A woman slipped out, her long, dark hair flowing around her face, carried by a breeze that hinted winter wasn’t yet ready to concede spring’s arrival. Dressed in jeans and a sweater, she opened the back door and pulled out a small box she carried in hand as she approached the front door of the station.

  “No one answers that door,” Gabriel called. As he stared at her, he sensed a familiarity that blossomed into recognition when she looked at him. “Maddie?”

  She smiled and changed course to meet him. She peered at the dog. “So this is Donner?”

  “Yeah, this is Donner,” he agreed, eyeing the mutt as it sat and scratched at its left ear. “Every flea-bitten inch of him.” Gabriel reached down and patted the animal’s head. “So what brings you to my neck of the woods?”

  “I never said thanks.” She shifted the box from one arm to the other.

  “Sure you did.”

  “Not to him.” She pointed at Donner. “I didn’t, and without him, I’d just be a statistic. We both know that.” Her gaze carefully avoided his as she spoke, kneeling and patting Donner on the head. “He’s a beautiful dog.”

  “Yeah, he is,” he replied distractedly as he watched Maddie stroke Donner, her small, thin fingers brushing through his coat. “What have you been doing with yourself these days?” He watched the dog nudge closer to Maddie, and before he could stop it, Donner had playfully jumped up on her and knocked her to the ground.

  “Donner!” he snapped, “What’s gotten into you?” He saw the surprise on her face, and again his mind flashed back to that night as her body lay sprawled on the ground. She’s alive, he reminded himself, grimacing as he stretched his arm out and offered his hand. “Geez, I’m sorry about that
. Are you all right?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said as laughter bubbled up and overtook her. “It’s all right, really. I like dogs. Had I not gone to medical school, I would have been a vet.” Grabbing Gabriel’s hand, she let him pull her upright, and as she stood, he noticed lots of dead grass stuck to her sweater and jeans.”

  “You’ve got grass on your backside.” He thought about brushing it off, but it seemed inappropriate to touch her without her acknowledgement. The last thing he wanted was to remind her of the time a man had touched her without her permission or desire, a touch that had very nearly killed her.

  “Would you mind getting it off?” she asked, swatting the seat of her jeans.

  “Sure.” He brushed her sweater off and managed to remove most of the clippings. A few stragglers remained. “Hold still.” He plucked away the rest. “There, good as new.”

  Donner started to jump on her again, but Gabriel quickly stepped between the two and pointed an accusing finger at the dog. “Down, Donner! I said sit!”

  Donner whimpered twice, barked once, and sat on his haunches, eyeing Maddie imploringly.

  “I don’t know what his problem is.” Gabriel set his hands on his hips and shook his head while staring at Donner. “He never acts like this.”

  “I know why he’s doing that.”

  Gabriel turned to find Maddie smiling at him. “Okay, I give. What’s the secret?” As he stared at her, he now saw the beauty which had been hidden beneath the injuries, the pain and the fear. The morning light accentuated the auburn streaks in her hair. The pallor had fled from her cheeks, and her olive complexion now appeared much healthier. Although the cut on the side of her face had left a scar, between the hair delicately framing her face and her complexion, Gabriel barely saw it and knew that anyone who was unaware of it would miss it altogether. He looked into the blue of her eyes–a wild shade of lightness that reminded him of a Colorado sky.

  Maddie must have realized he was staring as she blushed and peered at the box still in her hands, the same box she shook from side to side to hear the rumble of the contents. “He’s trying to get these.”

  As Maddie held out the box to Gabriel, Donner stood and jumped for it, barely missing as Gabriel lifted the box out of the dog’s reach. “Milk Bone dog biscuits, I take it?”

  “Yep.” Maddie laughed as Donner continued his frenzied hopping, trying to bite the box. “Persistent, isn’t he?”

  “You have no idea.” Gabriel glared at the dog and pointed at him. “Sit, Donner!” The dog barked twice and finally obeyed. Gabriel pulled the wrapping paper from the top of the box and then pulled the tab loose. As he grabbed two biscuits, Donner began to wag his tail furiously and whimpered again. Gabriel tossed the treats toward the dog. Donner snapped one up in midair and gobbled the other from where it had landed beside Gabriel’s shoe.

  “Well, you did mention he liked them,” Maddie said, laughing.

  Gabriel also started laughing. His gaze lingered on her face. Swallowing hard, she patted her hair, wondering if one lock had decided to stand on end. “Have I sprouted horns or something?”

  He quickly glanced at the ground and then at the dog. “Horns? What do you mean?”

  “You were staring.”

  Gabriel shrugged and dug the toe of his shoe into the dead grass, trying to think of something to say.

  “You were staring at me.”

  Gabriel shoved his hands into his jeans pocket. “Yeah...I was.” A flush crept into his cheeks, and he purposely avoided her gaze. Once or twice he opened his mouth to speak but then shut it before the words would come out, the same words he’d been hiding since he’d been watching over her months ago. “I was just thinking that you look so much better these days.”

  The smile dimmed slightly, and she nodded. “Yes, well, at least I’ve healed.”

  He saw her face and the saw the way the sunlight danced in her hair, illuminating reddish-gold streaks amid the soft curls framing her face. Beautiful—God, she was beautiful. He reached down and slowly took her arm, the one which had been broken. Half-expecting her to flinch, he moved slowly, touching her wrist with gentle fingers. “I’m glad you’ve healed.” Even after he’d seen for himself just how well she had healed, his fingers lingered, memorizing the feel of her pulse. Could he admit he’d thought of her over the last two months? He’d wanted to call her just to hear her voice. He’d dreamed about her many times, often having nightmares that someone else had come after her.

  “Me, too.” She frowned.

  He felt his heart slamming in his chest, and he purposely tried to keep his breathing slow and easy. “Maddie, I....” His voice died as he pulled his hand away.

  “What were you about to say?” She touched her wrist where his fingers had been. His stomach clenched. Had his touch reminded her too much of the past? God, how could he ever not remind her of that? He swallowed slowly. “That I’m glad you came,” he said in a voice seasoned with emotions he tried to keep at bay. He turned back toward the station, trying not to think.

  “I also came with a dinner invitation.” She folded her arms across her chest. “You gave me back my life, and I wanted to say thank you again.”

  His shoulders stiffened, and he clenched his teeth. Damn, I don’t want her to be grateful. I don’t want to remind her of that night for the rest of her life. I want to remind her of what can come after that if she would let it, but I don’t think she can. “You don’t have anything to be grateful for, Maddie. I was only doing the right thing.”

  “Okay.” She tugged her fingers through her hair. “The offer still stands, and if you ever get hungry enough, look me up.” She drew her keys from her jeans pocket and slowly walked to her car without looking back.

  Gabriel watched her go, and Donner barked twice in her passing. “Damn.” He turned to Donner as her car pulled away. “Couldn’t you have introduced the two of us in any other way?”

  Chapter Twenty

  "How's your doctor friend these days?" Ramsey asked.

  Gabriel frowned and dumped the steaming spaghetti into a large bowl, trying not to think of how raw seeing her two weeks ago had left him. "To tell the truth, I dunno. I talked to the crisis counselor who helped her, and she seems to think Maddie’s doing better." Of course, at present, Tammy wasn’t doing so hot, with impacted wisdom teeth she was supposed to be getting out today. And of course the subject always went back to Sam when he talked to Tammy.

  As he felt the heat through the potholder, he half-dropped the empty pan on the stove and tossed the potholder next to the bowl. "Damn, that was hot!"

  "No shit, Sherlock! What a fine detective you would make." Ramsey peered at him, scrutinizing his features, searching for something. "I could be out of line, but it seemed like you were pretty focused on her." He turned his attention to mixing quartered tomatoes in with the lettuce and grated cheese before he plucked the ranch dressing from the refrigerator door.

  "Yeah, you're out of line, all right. Hell, maybe you just took a dive off the deep end." He watched the steam rise from the noodles, and hoped the heat coming off them would conceal his suddenly flushed cheeks--a flush that didn't have anything to do with food.

  Ramsey laughed and dumped the sauce, complete with golf-ball sized meatballs, into a large glass bowl. "Yeah, well, notice I didn't ask that. What I did ask you was how your doctor friend was doing." He set the bowl on the table.

  "Thanks for the replay." Gabriel carried the noodles to the table as well. As he walked past the oven, he could smell the rolls rising inside, the pale dough burnishing to a deeper tan as the butter-coated skin cooked.

  "Care to divulge any more information—you know, maybe something useful? Inquiring minds want to know."

  "I haven't seen her in a couple of weeks, so I wouldn't know how she’s doing. I'm guessing she's fine." He gritted his teeth, trying not to remember how often he dreamed of her. Sometimes it came as a nightmare--the guy grabbing her and killing her before Gabriel could pull the tr
igger. Sometimes he dreamed he visited her in the hospital where she worked, only this Maddie wore pink scrubs and an eighties Madonna hairstyle, tresses teased to the max, looking so far removed from Maddie's classy style; he still didn't know what that dream was about. Sometimes, rarer still, he'd even dreamed his sister was best friends with Maddie, and that he’d first seen Maddie in high school, when Jessie had brought her over to spend the night. That dream wasn't so farfetched, considering he knew Jessie would have enjoyed Maddie's personality, but the two had never met. And they never would.

  Ramsey set plates around the table. "And you're just going to let it drop?" He shook his head, and as he moved to set down a plate, it struck a nearby glass, making it ring. "Just like that?"

  Gabriel glared at him. "As opposed to forcing her to pay attention to things she doesn't need to worry about right now? And she's probably not even sure she wants anything to do with any man, let alone one paying that much attention to her." Gabriel plunked a fork and butter knife beside each plate. "Besides, you act like I'm crazy about her, and it's not like I did anything so unusual for her. You're making a lot out of a little."

  "Am I?" He set his hand over his chest, feigning indignation. "Yeah, well, maybe everybody would have saved her. Maybe everybody would have stopped by the hospital, but, Gabriel, you didn't just stop there. You stayed the night over at her house to make sure the rapist didn't return." He shook his head and put the salt and pepper shakers on the table. "That's not an everyday thing, and you know it." He pointed a knowing finger at his friend. "Don't even bother denying it."

  Gabriel opened his mouth to argue, but the jarring ring of the alarm jolted him.

  "Man!" Ramsey peered at the set table just begging the two of them to sit down and feast. "So much for dinner." His gaze lingered upon the pasta and sauce. "Can't the damned thing ever go off after the meal, before bedtime, or after we get up? Just once?"