Rider on Fire

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Rider on Fire Page 18

by Sharon Sala


  “No! No!” he kept screaming. “You don’t understand! I have to get up. I have to find her!”

  He was still shouting when a nurse rushed in and shot a syringe full of sedative into his IV. He felt the onrush of unconsciousness, even while he was still screaming.

  * * *

  Sonora’s stay with Adam was strained. She kept jumping at shadows and was afraid to go to sleep at night. Adam had lights on all over the house for reassurance, which meant no one was getting much sleep. Charlie sensed the discord and abandoned the both of them for the peace and quiet under the back porch.

  She’d called Mynton twice in the last two days to see if there was any new news regarding Garcia’s whereabouts, but all Mynton could tell her was that everything had gone quiet. The powers that be had even ordered Dave Wills and the other DEA agents to be called in and assigned to other, more pressing business.

  Sonora had accepted the news without comment, but when she hung up the last time, she knew she wouldn’t call again. They’d abandoned her to her fate.

  Then the phone call came from Franklin’s doctor at St. Francis. The transplant surgery was scheduled. Sonora was to come in before noon tomorrow and the surgery would be the day after that.

  Adam gave her the news with a piece of pie and a Coke, then sat down beside her while she ate, waiting for her to say what she needed to get said.

  * * *

  “I’m going to miss you,” he said.

  Sonora was scared, and because she felt completely off kilter, she picked on the only person around who was on her side.

  “You’re either a masochist or a liar. I’ve been nothing but a problem to you and Dad ever since the day of my arrival. I’d think you’d be happy to get your life back,” she snapped.

  He frowned.

  “Well … I’d tell you that I didn’t have much of a life until you rode in on that damned Harley, but since I’m supposed to be a liar, I don’t suppose you’d believe that.”

  His sarcasm wasn’t lost on Sonora. She stared down at the plate and the half-eaten piece of pie, then sighed and set it aside.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You should be,” he said shortly. “I don’t know anything more to say to make you believe that I care for you.” Then he laughed, but the sound wasn’t happy, just resigned. “I can tell you for sure that loving you is a lonely damn job.”

  The words were like a slap in the face. She looked up at him as if she’d never seen him, then leaned back in the chair.

  “You love me.”

  “Is that a question or a statement of disbelief?” he asked.

  Her chin quivered, but she lifted her head proudly. “Why?” she asked.

  “Damned if I know,” Adam said. “I never thought of myself as a masochist, but I must be. Every time you throw another log onto the wall you keep between us, I keep knocking it down and climbing back over.”

  His words hurt. She’d never been on this side of his anger before, and it didn’t feel good. The only problem was, she was the one who’d put herself here.

  “I’m sorry,” she muttered.

  “Why? Because I love you, or because you don’t love me? Either way, don’t worry about it.”

  She reeled as if she’d been slapped. The room was filled with anger, and she didn’t know where it had come from. One minute she’d been eating pie and the next thing she’d done was pick a fight with the only man she’d ever let herself care about.

  She got up from the chair, walked out of the kitchen, got the keys to her Harley, and walked out of the house.

  She could hear Adam banging dishes in the kitchen as she threw her leg over the bike and picked up the helmet. Part of her wanted to ride with the wind in her hair and to hell with safeguards, but she had family to consider. If something happened to her, Franklin’s second chance at life was over before it began. So she pulled the helmet down onto her head and fastened the strap under her chin.

  The engine turned over and then caught. Sonora revved the engine once, then twice, then shoved the kickstand up with the heel of her boot and took off.

  Rocks and dust flew out behind her as she spun out of the yard and headed down the driveway. She didn’t know where she was going, but she had to get away. Too much had happened in too short a time. She’d been alone too many years and had no idea of how to accept something freely given, like love.

  Adam heard the engine start, and for a moment, thought about racing out and stopping her. But he made himself stay, and when he heard her riding away, he threw the dishcloth into the sink and walked out of the house in the other direction. Either she’d come back or she wouldn’t. Either she’d love him or she couldn’t. There was no power on earth, or from the Old Ones, that could stop what was already turning.

  * * *

  Sonora rode with a stiff-lipped concentration that would have made Gerald Mynton proud. This was the agent he knew and counted on—the woman who was more machine than human. Only she wasn’t running away any longer. She was riding back to Adam as fast as the bike would take her. She wouldn’t let herself think of the oncoming night. She’d ridden in the dark plenty of times before. She’d had stake-outs in the dark, too. There was nothing in the dark that was so different from the day. Just less light to see it by. But coming in to a dark house was another thing altogether. That’s where she’d been locked up as a child, and that’s where the ghosts of her past still lived.

  When she finally saw the dirt road leading from the highway up the mountain to Adam’s house, she breathed easier. She hadn’t meant to go so far so fast. She’d just needed some fresh air.

  Now, here she was, only minutes away from Adam and she couldn’t wait to get there. She only hoped that he could forgive her for being such an ass. She took the turn without slowing down and accelerated as the bike hit dirt. One mile, then a little bit more and she would be there.

  She didn’t realize until she took the last turn that she’d been holding her breath. But when she saw that every light in the house had been left on for her, she exhaled quickly, then choked on a sob.

  She came to a sliding halt, then when she tried to stand, all but fell on her face. Her legs were weak and shaking as she tore off the helmet and then tossed her hair, reveling in the night air blowing through the length. She hung her helmet on the handlebars and started toward the porch, her steps dragging. It wasn’t until she reached the front door that she realized she wasn’t alone.

  * * *

  Adam had been sitting on the porch, waiting for her to come back long before night had fallen. He couldn’t believe that she was still out in the dark, and didn’t know that, for her, there was a fine line between a dark house and a dark night. He didn’t know about the closet or the men who’d paraded through her foster mother’s life.

  He hadn’t realized until he’d heard the Harley’s engine, that he’d been bracing himself for a disappointment. The relief that came with the sound was huge, and as he sat in the dark, listening to her coming closer and closer, he fought the urge to cry. She made him weak in ways he would never have believed, and yet he loved her with a strength of passion that surprised him.

  Then she was here, getting off the Harley, and tossing that wild mane of hair that had been shoved up under the helmet. He saw her face in the faint lights coming through the windows and knew she was as lost as he felt. Her shoulders were slumped as she started up the steps. When he saw her wipe a weary hand across her face, he couldn’t stand it any longer. He shoved the chair out from under him as he stood.

  “Adam?”

  He stepped into the light.

  She paused.

  He kept walking until they were face to face, then he took her in his arms.

  “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

  “So am I,” she countered.

  “Come inside with me?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, and leaned against his strength.

  He kissed her then, felt the tremble in her lips as he tasted dust and tear
s.

  “Come lay with me, love. I will hold you while you sleep.”

  She let herself be led because she was too weary to remind him that he, too, had been missing sleep.

  Later, she stood beneath the shower head as warm water sprayed down upon her body and let him wash her as if she was a baby. Afterward, he dried her hair, then her skin, and pulled back the covers of the bed.

  “Get in, honey,” he said gently. “I’ll be right back.”

  She crawled beneath the sheets, then rolled over on her side as Adam made a last check through the house to make sure everything was locked. Only after he crawled into bed beside her and pulled her safe against his body did she trust herself to close her eyes.

  “Adam …”

  “Sssh,” he said softly. “Go to sleep.”

  Silence filled the room, then Adam became aware of the sounds of the house. The slight drip of the shower head, the sound of wind rising, the pop and creak of the older house as it, too, settled for the night.

  Finally, he shut his eyes. Just between consciousness and exhaustion, he thought he heard Sonora speak, then he convinced himself he must have been dreaming, because he thought he heard her say that she loved him.

  * * *

  The surgery was successful.

  It was the first thing the doctor told Adam when he entered the waiting room. Adam grabbed the doctor’s hand and then shook it, from one healer to another, although the doctor would have argued the point.

  “When can I see her?” Adam asked, referring to Sonora.

  “As soon as she comes out of recovery. Franklin, of course, is already in isolation in ICU. He will not be having visitors.”

  “I understand,” Adam said. “How soon will we know if the transplant worked?”

  “Soon,” the doctor said. “Blood tests will tell us a lot in the next few days. But you have to trust the process and that all takes time.”

  “If Ms. Jordan’s recovery is normal, how soon before she can go home?” Adam asked.

  “Will she be on her own?” the doctor asked.

  “No. She’ll be staying with me until she’s back on her feet.”

  The doctor nodded. “Then I’d say probably tomorrow or the next day. We want to make sure she’s in no danger of infection and regaining her strength. As for the visit now, I’ll have a nurse let you know when she’s back in her room.”

  “Thank you,” Adam said. “Thank you more than you will ever know.”

  The doctor smiled. “It’s been my pleasure, believe me.”

  With that, he moved on to the next surgery awaiting him, while Adam sat back down and waited to see Sonora.

  About forty-five minutes later, a nurse came looking for him. “Adam Two Eagles?”

  Adam stood. “Yes, ma’am?”

  “Come with me,” she said.

  He followed anxiously.

  Sonora was back in her bed when he entered her room. She was pale and too quiet for his peace of mind. He walked to the edge of the bed, then laid a hand on her forehead, instinctively feeling for fever. At his touch, she moaned.

  “Adam?” she mumbled.

  He leaned close and kissed the side of her face. “I’m here,” he said softly. “It’s over. You did well and so did Franklin. Close your eyes and sleep, love. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  She meant to ask him something else, but between one breath and another, she forgot. The remnant of the anesthesia was still in her system and quietly pulled her under.

  She woke three more times, but for less than a minute, before falling back to sleep. It was some time in the night before she woke up for real, and when she did, saw Adam asleep in the chair beside her bed. His presence was proof of his faithfulness. He’d promised her he would be there for her, and he was. Satisfied that all was right with her world, she managed to roll over onto the side opposite the one where the bone marrow had been taken. Once she was at ease, she fell back to sleep.

  * * *

  Two days later, Miguel was out of restraints, but they kept him sedated more than he liked. Upon complaining, his doctor had explained the reasoning for the treatment and the problems of confusion that often came with head injuries. It made enough sense that Miguel hadn’t argued, but he was counting the days until he could get out and resume the hunt. He’d seen her once. He would find her again.

  He judged the time and the days by the number of times nurses changed shifts. He’d also learned that the nurses who came on in the afternoon and stayed until midnight were the ones who talked the most. This evening was no exception. One had carried in his food on a tray while another was administering medicine through his IV. He watched as the clear liquid left the syringe and went straight into the drip.

  “Will this put me to sleep before I get a chance to eat my food?” he asked.

  “It’s not a sedative,” the nurse said. “It was an antibiotic, but if they’re serving meatloaf for dinner this evening, you might wish you’d slept through it.”

  Her laughter sounded like a cackling hen. When she slapped her leg and then added that she’d been teasing, he didn’t smile. There was nothing funny about any of this.

  The other nurse, who Miguel thought of as a busybody, took the lid off the food tray and set it on the table then swung it over Miguel’s bed.

  “Can you manage?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he said, and picked up the enclosed packet that held plastic cutlery and condiments.

  The two nurses were talking to each other as they finished their work in his room. At first, he paid no attention until he heard one of them mention a name.

  “It’s like something out of a Hollywood movie,” Cackling Hen said. “Imagine, finding out you have a daughter and then having that daughter save your life.”

  “I know,” Busybody said, then lowered her voice. “I heard she’s some kind of government agent.”

  Cackling Hen nodded. “Yes, so did I.” Then she frowned. “I wouldn’t take that kind of job if you gave it to me. I mean … everyone knows that people whose jobs take them undercover have to do things with the bad guys to keep from being found out. Imagine having to have sex with some drug dealer or murderer?”

  Busybody snorted. “Lord, Carleen, aren’t those kind of people one and the same?”

  Cackling Hen laughed and then shrugged. “Yes, I guess you’re right.”

  However, Miguel wasn’t laughing. When he’d heard the words, “she”, then, “government agent”, his attention had shifted. Still, there had to be plenty of people who worked for the government in Oklahoma. Just because he was looking for one, didn’t mean they had to be one and the same. Still, he couldn’t help but ask.

  “So … you say a woman saved her father’s life by donating an organ?”

  “Not an organ. Bone marrow,” Cackling Hen said. “Quite a story. And the father’s famous.”

  Miguel lost interest. To the best of his knowledge, Sonora Jordan had no family and he would certainly have known if she had famous parents.

  “Hmm,” he said, and salted the green beans on his plate.

  “Ooh, really?” Busybody said. “I didn’t know that.”

  “Apparently, they didn’t know each other existed until a short while ago. It’s just like a movie, I tell you.”

  “What’s he famous for?” Busybody asked.

  “He carves things out of wood, but a lot of Native Americans are good at art and stuff.”

  Miguel stilled. Native American? The woman he was looking for could pass for a Native American.

  Busybody wasn’t through with her interrogation. “What’s his name?” she asked.

  “Franklin Blue Cat,” Cackling Hen said. “He lives up in the Kiamichi mountains. Has a studio there and ships his work all over. I heard some Japanese big shot even commissioned some work from his once.”

  “Never heard of him,” Busybody said, then added, “I’ll bet he’s rich, though.”

  “Yeah, and can you imagine what the long lost daughter mus
t think? Not only has she found a family, but the family is rolling in dough. What are the odds of that?”

  “So, this Blue Cat woman works for the government. They have good benefits and all. My Al tried to get on a government job, but he didn’t have the right credentials,” Busybody added.

  “Her name isn’t Blue Cat. Her last name is Jordan.”

  Miguel knocked over the glass of iced tea on his tray, which sent both nurses scrambling to mop up the spill. One left to get him a refill, while the other went to get a clean sheet while Miguel accepted what fate had dropped into his lap. If he was to believe his luck, the woman he sought was here in this hospital. He already knew that this wasn’t the time or the place to exact revenge, but at least he knew his search was over. He had a name and a place to start looking.

  CHAPTER 16

  Sonora was packed and ready to go, and none too soon for her. She’d had all of St. Francis Hospital that she cared to experience. Whoever said that a hospital was a good place to heal had never tried to sleep in one. Now all she had to do was wait for Adam to arrive. The drive home would be long and most likely uncomfortable for her, but the end of the line promised peace and quiet and Adam’s loving arms, which was worth whatever it took to get there.

  She glanced at the clock, and then out the window. It was too early for Adam to get here, but she didn’t feel like sitting any longer. She got up and headed for the door. At least she could take a couple of turns around the floor. The sooner she recovered her strength, the better off she would be. She hadn’t forgotten her last vision, or the warning she’d had of coming danger and she wanted to be on familiar ground if it happened.

  Even as she was stepping into the hallway, the hair rose on the backs of her arms. It was a warning she’d heeded many times before, and to her advantage. But this time, although she was without her weapon, felt she was surely safe. After all, it was broad daylight and there were people everywhere. Her warning had been about darkness.

  She stayed close to the handrail on the side of the walls in case she had a moment of lightheadedness or felt sick, but it didn’t happen. In fact, the farther she walked, the better she felt. The doctor had assured her that as long as she didn’t overdo it, she would be back to normal in no time.

 

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