by Janet Dailey
Luke released her. “I’m going inside to see what I can find out. Call Lauren. Have her get hold of Sky, wherever he is. Tell them that as soon as I find out for sure it’s Erin, I’ll be on my way to the hospital.”
He raced into the house. The big-screen TV was on in the den, but the news had gone to commercial. Desperately he grabbed the remote and flipped to another local channel. There it was, the shot of the car, upside-down at the bottom of a grassy embankment, its top and side smashed in. Luke caught a glimpse of the license plate. It was Erin’s car.
The reporter mentioned the name of the hospital where the driver had been taken. That was all the information Luke needed. Rushing outside again, he said a quick word to Carmen, grabbed his shirt from the fence, shouted to a hand to let the penned horses back into the paddock, and unhitched his truck from the trailer.
Minutes later, he was roaring out of the yard, trailing a cloud of dust down the lane all the way to the main road.
* * *
Marie took her time, leaving the freeway and winding her way through the streets into the barrio, where she felt safe enough to go to a café and have some coffee. She was still keyed up after the successful hit and escape. She needed to unwind before she tried to contact Stella.
News of the shooting was bound to go statewide. Stella had access to TV in prison. With luck, she would see the broadcast and know that Marie would be calling to get the location of the drug stash.
In the restaurant, which she’d scoped out before going in, she chose a booth with a view of the front door and a direct path to the kitchen and the back alley where she’d left her bike. She felt confident that she’d made a clean escape, but one couldn’t be too careful.
The TV, mounted high on the wall behind the counter, was broadcasting a game show in Spanish. When the man brought her coffee, she pointed to the TV and asked, “Inglés?”
He glanced around to make sure no one was watching the game show, then nodded and switched the channel, using the remote in his pocket. A local newscast was just beginning, and there, on the screen, was a live shot of the wrecked brown station wagon.
As Marie watched, the camera zoomed in on the driver’s side window with two bullet holes in the blood-splattered glass. The reporter’s voice droned in the background. “. . . The female driver was air-lifted to University Medical Center in critical condition. . . .”
No! Marie’s coffee slopped over, scalding her fingers. It’s impossible! The little bitch is still alive!
She willed herself to stay calm and finish her coffee. If Erin Tyler didn’t die, Stella would know. And all this planning, all this risk, would have been for nothing.
There was no way around it. Unless she wanted to flee the country with nothing, she would have to finish the job.
* * *
Luke raced into the emergency room and found the main desk. “Erin Tyler,” he told the nurse on duty. “She was shot on the freeway and air-lifted here. What can you tell me?”
“Are you family?” The nurse was maddeningly calm.
“She doesn’t have any family. But if she survives, I’m going to marry her.” As soon as Luke spoke the words he felt their truth. To lose Erin would be to lose the future, their love, their family, all they could give each other.
“Just a minute.” The young nurse turned away to speak to a supervisor, then came back to Luke. “She’s in surgery now. That’s all I can tell you. It may be a while. If you want to wait, give me your name, and I’ll have the doctor come out and talk to you when he’s finished.”
“Thanks.” Luke gave his name and sat down to wait. He’d never been one for churches, but now his lips moved in silent prayer. Please . . . please . . . she’s my love, my life, my everything. . . .
* * *
Three hours later, each minute an eternity of waiting and worry, the doctor, who looked young enough to be in high school, walked out between the swinging doors. He was smiling—smiling, thank God.
“Mr. Maddox?”
Luke rose to his feet, his legs unsteady beneath him. “Yes, how is Erin?”
“Very, very lucky. The bullet went in at a shallow angle, barely penetrating the skull. She lost some blood, but we were able to remove the bullet and repair the wound, hopefully without any damage to her brain. We won’t know for sure until she wakes up.
“Her other injuries were from the crash—broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, some bruises and lacerations from the glass. Nothing that won’t heal in time. You can thank her seat belt for that.”
Luke began to breathe again. “There were two shots fired. I saw the car window on TV.”
“Evidently the other shot missed. We couldn’t find anyplace else where she’d been hit. Again, she’s a very lucky woman.”
“When can I see her?”
“When we’re sure her vitals are stable, we’ll move her to a room in the ICU. You can be with her then. But she’ll be unconscious.”
“For how long?” Fear gnawed at him. What if she didn’t wake up at all?
“Hours, at least,” the doctor said. “Maybe even days, if her brain takes that long. That’s up to nature now. Go get some lunch and some rest. Come back in an hour. You should be able to see her then.”
Luke walked out into the parking lot. Food and rest. He wouldn’t be interested in either until he knew Erin was going to be all right. Taking out his phone, he called the house and gave Carmen an update on Erin’s condition. Then, for the next hour, he wandered aimlessly around the hospital complex, burning off nervous energy and worrying.
At best, Erin’s recovery would take weeks, even months. The time lost could cost her the ranch. Maybe Sky could take on the task of finding a loan? At least he was a relative. Luke or one of the more experienced hands could take over as temporary foreman.. . . Never mind, he was getting ahead of himself. But Erin would be devastated if she lost her beloved Rimrock. He could love her and take care of her, but part of her soul would be gone.
Luke hadn’t worn a watch, but when he couldn’t stand the wait any longer, he went to the hospital’s main information desk. They gave him directions to the ICU and the number of Erin’s room. He took the elevator and found her at last, white and still, with a bandage on her head, an IV drip in her arm, and monitors attached to a machine that beeped signals above her bed.
A middle-aged nurse was typing notes into a computer on a stand. She gave Luke a smile. “Don’t worry. She’s been through a lot, but she’s a strong girl. Her vitals are good. She just needs a good, long sleep while her brain recovers.”
“Can I stay with her?” Luke asked. “I’d like to be here when she wakes up.”
“Sure, if you want to. There’s coffee at the nurses’ station. The restroom’s down the hall to your right, around the first corner. Push the call button if she needs anything.”
As the nurse took the computer and walked out of the room, Luke found the one comfortable-looking chair and moved it next to the bed. Sitting down, he took her hand in his. Her fingers were cold, but he could feel the pulse at the base of her wrist, beating steadily. She was a strong girl, the nurse had said. He was just finding out how strong. But she was going to need him in the time ahead.
He raised her chilled hand to his lips. “I love you, Erin,” he whispered. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here for you, always.”
As the hours passed, Luke fell into a doze. He awakened to darkness through the window blinds. Someone had dimmed the lights in the room and in the hallway, but he could see that Erin was still sleeping. He could hear the low, regular beep of the monitor and the soft sound of her breathing. A glance at the wall clock told him it was after midnight.
His legs were cramped from sitting in the same position, and he needed a restroom. Some coffee wouldn’t hurt either, if there was any available. Standing, he stretched his limbs and walked quietly out of the room.
There was a light at the nurses’ station at the far end of the hallway. The only other sign of life was a pers
on in a baggy custodial staff uniform, wearing a cap and sunglasses and towing a cart with a mop bucket and a trash receptacle. He—or she—appeared to be cleaning the floor, dipping the mop in the bucket and slopping it indifferently back and forth.
Still half asleep, Luke made his way down to the restroom. Minutes later, he was washing his hands, about to leave, when the realization hit him like a lightning bolt.
A cap and sunglasses? In the middle of the night?
He was out the door like a shot, rounding the corner and racing back toward Erin’s room. There was no sign of the worker or the cart, but Erin’s door had been closed.
There was no lock, thank heaven. He burst into the room to find the so-called custodial worker—tall, rail thin, and wearing boots with long, pointed toes under baggy coveralls—standing over Erin with a pillow, about to press it over her face.
Everything came together in a flash. Luke charged, grabbing the lanky figure from behind. The pillow fell to the floor as they struggled. The intruder, a woman—he could tell from the sound of her gasps and grunts—was surprisingly strong, twisting and kicking and jabbing in an effort to reach the knife that was thrust into her back pocket. Luke grabbed one arm and caught the other, twisting both behind her back, hard enough to dislocate her shoulders if she resisted. A long braid whipped Luke’s face as the cap and glasses fell away. He stared, recognition stirring in his brain. The narrow, angry face, the slashing scar . . . He knew her.
The years peeled away. He was a boy again, walking into his brother’s kitchen, seeing the flash of a knife as it ripped open his wife’s face from temple to mouth. Marie. It was a common name. Until now it had never occurred to him that his former sister-in-law and Sky’s murdering cousin were one and the same.
“Luke.” Incredibly, she recognized him. “You saved my life once. Save it again. Please. Let me go.”
Luke didn’t reply. He could tell her he was sorry, but that would be a lie.
A nurse had appeared in the open doorway. “I’ve called Security,” she said. “They’re coming.”
“Fine.” Luke forced his squirming captive to the floor, holding her facedown with her hands pinned behind her back. “While you’re at it, call nine-one-one. Tell the dispatcher that the police can come and get Marie Fletcher.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
IT WAS MORNING WHEN ERIN STIRRED AND OPENED HER EYES. THE first thing she saw was Luke bending over her. He looked exhausted, his eyes bloodshot and sunk into shadow. His hair was mussed, his jaw dark with stubble. But he was smiling. That was all that mattered.
But everything else was strange—the bed, the room, the pain in her head, and the tubes and monitors attached to her arm. Where was she? What had happened to her?
Luke bent down and brushed a gentle kiss on her chapped lips. “Good morning,” he murmured. “Do you know where you are?”
She struggled to think clearly. “Am I in . . . the hospital?”
“You are. You’ve been through a pretty rough time. Do you remember anything about what happened to you?”
She tried to shake her head. It hurt. A lot. “I don’t remember anything,” she said.
“You were driving on the freeway when someone came by and shot you through the window,” Luke said. “The car rolled down an embankment and crashed. The doctor who took the bullet out of your skull said you were lucky to be alive.”
Erin’s free hand moved up to touch the bandage on her head. “When did all this happen?” she asked.
“Yesterday. You haven’t missed much.”
“And you’ve been here the whole time?”
“Since you got out of surgery. I never want to leave you, Erin. Not ever again.”
She gave him a feeble smile. “That suits me fine,” she said. “But something tells me I won’t be worth much for a while. Strange, all I remember is driving on the freeway. I was on my way to apply for a loan and—oh, no!” She struggled to sit up. “Get me out of here! I’ve got to get that loan!”
Luke eased her back onto the pillow. “No, you don’t. Somebody else will have to see about the loan. I’m going to talk to Sky. Maybe—”
“No, I’m the owner of the ranch. They won’t talk to anybody else. And even if they would, they’re not going to lend money to somebody who’s flat on her back in the hospital. How long do I have to be here? Ask the nurse—”
As if summoned, a perky young nurse stepped into the room. “You’re awake! Awesome! How do you feel?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Erin tried to push herself up, but a stabbing pain in her ribs stopped her. She lay back on the pillow. “I need to get out of here. How soon can I be released?”
“Not for a couple more days, at least. And then you’ll have to rest at home. You’ve had some serious injuries, honey. You can’t just get up and go running around like nothing’s happened. Now, let’s check your vitals.” She took Erin’s blood pressure and looked at the monitors. “Excellent. I think we can take that IV out and move you to a regular room before breakfast this morning. You’ll be more comfortable, but you’ll still need to stay quiet. I hear your boyfriend was with you all night. He sounds like a keeper. You’d better hang on to him.”
“I plan to, if he’ll have me.” Erin managed a smile.
“Just try and get rid of me,” Luke said. “While you’re busy with the nurse, I’ll go outside to get some air and make some calls.”
“Get yourself some breakfast,” the nurse said. “The cafeteria’s pretty good. And it’ll take a while to get Erin here cleaned up and transferred to her new room.”
* * *
Outside, in the parking lot, Luke took his phone out of his pocket. It was early yet. No one answered in the main house, but Luke did manage to reach Sky and give him an update. “Thank God,” Sky said when he heard that Erin was awake. “And thank heaven you caught Marie. I know she’s my cousin, but I’ve disowned her. She deserves to be behind bars. But what I can’t figure out is why she was trying to kill Erin.”
“Maybe the sheriff will be able to tell us.” Luke decided to save the story of his own connection to Marie for another time.
“Oh, something else,” Sky said. “Carmen took a call yesterday from a lawyer, a Mr. Shannon White, who said he had some urgent business with Erin.”
“Did Carmen tell him that Erin was in the hospital?”
“No. She just told him Erin was unavailable and took his number.”
“So he didn’t say what his business was about?”
“Only that it was urgent, and private. I’ve got his number. I’ll text it to you. If Erin’s feeling up to it later, she may want to call him, or have you do it.”
“I’ll let her know. And thanks.” Luke ended the call and checked to make sure he’d received the text. Should he wait to tell Erin? If the lawyer was with the bank, and was handling the probable foreclosure on the ranch, she didn’t need more bad news. But Erin was a big girl, Luke reminded himself. She could make up her own mind.
When he saw her again, in her new room, she was sitting up in bed with her breakfast on a tray. Dressed in a clean hospital gown, she was picking at her food, looking as if somebody had died.
“How are you doing?” He kissed her forehead below the bandage. “Feeling any better?”
“Hurting less. They gave me some pills for the headache pain. It’s just—” She blinked back tears. “I can’t imagine my life anywhere but the Rimrock,” she said. “But I’m going to lose it to the bank. I’ve done everything I can, and I can’t do more, especially not from here. I’ve just got to accept it. But what will I do, Luke? Where will I go?”
You can marry me and let me take care of you. Luke knew better than to say the words. Erin loved him, but this was no time for a proposal. The ranch was everything to her, the land, the people, and the animals. She was mourning the loss as if it were a death—and she’d seen far too much death lately.
Because there was no point in waiting, Luke told her about the lawyer’s phone call. “Let
’s hope it’s not more bad news,” he said.
“Why not? Most of the other news has been bad. What else could go wrong? Maybe somebody wants to sue me. Would you call him for me, Luke? If he’s in town, see if he could come this afternoon. Whatever he wants, we might as well get it over with.”
* * *
The lawyer had agreed to come at two o’clock. In the interim, Erin had napped while Luke bought some jeans, a shirt, and some underclothes at a nearby mall and used the private shower in her room to clean up. When the lawyer, an elfin, white-haired man in a tailored suit, walked in precisely on the hour, they were waiting for him.
Luke offered him a chair. He sat on the edge, stiffly formal, with his briefcase on his lap. “I heard about your terrible accident, Miss Tyler,” he said. “I hope that you’ll feel a bit better after you hear what I’ve come to tell you.”
Better? Luke and Erin exchanged glances. Could it be that this wasn’t bad news after all?
“My firm, White, Anderson, and Carruthers, represents the estate of the late Jasper Platt. Mr. Platt executed a will with us several years prior to his death.”
Jasper! Something tightened around Erin’s heart like an invisible hug when she thought of how much she’d loved the old man.
“I apologize for the delay. It’s taken us some time to update Mr. Platt’s financial records, but I believe you’ll find everything in order. As you’re probably aware, Mr. Platt had no descendants, and no living family except a niece. Is that correct, as you understand it?”
“Yes,” Erin said. “The Rimrock was family to him. He was one of us.”
“So I gather.” The lawyer opened his briefcase, slipped out a paper, and put on his wire-framed glasses. “Mr. Platt left a twenty-thousand-dollar bequest to his niece, who has already accepted that amount. The rest of his assets were willed to the Rimrock Ranch for as long as the land remains in the hands of the Tylers and their descendants.”
Erin could hear her heart pounding. Jasper hadn’t been a wealthy man. His only possessions of any worth had been his truck, his guns, and his ATV. But if he’d left the ranch a few thousand dollars, how kind he’d been to think of them.
