Hearts on the Line

by Margaret Daley

  Lord, You brought Becca into my life, and all I could think about was that she was a police officer like Maggie. Because I hadn’t really dealt with Maggie’s death, I pushed Becca away. Please give me a chance to tell her what I really feel.

  “I see the car,” Brendan said.

  From the backseat Quinn leaned forward to get a better look. What he saw chilled his blood. Smoke poured from the crumpled Lexus, the front passenger side smashed in like an accordion. Flames began to dance along the hood. Fear as Quinn had never known it shoved his heart into rapid pounding.

  Her body battered and bruised, as if she had gone ten rounds with a heavyweight boxing champion, Becca tried to wiggle out from the material pressing her back. Escalante’s airbag held him pinned against the seat and window at an odd angle for a few seconds before the bag deflated. His eyes closed, his face cut from the glass, he remained motionless, sagging forward.

  Thank You, God.

  Her mind hazy, she tried to move, but her airbag stayed inflated. Feeling around for the release on her seat belt, she encountered the button to adjust the seat. She pushed. Nothing happened. She struggled to drag air into her lungs. Breathing shallowly, she continued to search for the release but a light-headedness attacked her, blurring her vision.

  Vaguely, as blackness hovered at the edge of her consciousness, she thought she smelled smoke. She made one last attempt to free herself, but her oxygen-starved mind screamed for a decent breath.

  Quinn pushed open the back door before his brother came to a full stop near the wrecked Lexus. Racing toward the sedan as other vehicles arrived at the scene, he yanked on the handle on the driver’s side. Nothing.

  Squinting through the hazy smoke that had seeped into the interior, Quinn spied Becca slumped against the seat, the still-inflated airbag holding her captive.

  Lord! Help!

  He attacked the door with all his strength, jerking on the handle. On the third pull it gave and crashed open, throwing him off balance. He charged forward, reaching in to unsnap Becca’s seat belt.

  The sound of a fire extinguisher blasted through the din of voices. He was aware of the others swarming around the Lexus like ants after a choice piece of candy, but he wouldn’t move away until he had pulled Becca to safety. Max and Brendan were on the other side working to get Escalante out. The fire was winning the battle with the extinguisher.

  After finally releasing her seat belt, Quinn took Becca by the shoulders and dragged her out. Her eyes fluttered open, and she tried to smile. She moaned.

  “We have to stop meeting like this,” she choked out as she try to take deep breaths, then started coughing.

  “Me taking care of you? Never!” He laid her on the ground, visually checking her out.

  She shot him a confused look, wincing as her chest rose with each inhalation. “What do you mean?”

  “Okay? Anything broken?”

  “I don’t think so. Just had the breath knocked out of me. Hurts to breathe.”

  He hoisted her up in his arms and hurried her away from the burning Lexus. Two men hauled an unconscious Escalante out of the car while the rest began to back off as the fire, fed by oxygen, ballooned into the air, black smoke roiling.

  The explosion nearly toppled Quinn to the ground with Becca in his arms. He tightened his hold, steadied himself and kept moving. Another blast sounded, smoke and fire shooting up into the sky as though a rocket had been launched.

  A safe distance away from the burning wreckage, Quinn collapsed to his knees with Becca still in his embrace and drew her as close as he could to him. “You are alive. Thank You, Lord.”

  “If you keep ending up here, the hospital will have to rename this room the Rebecca Hilliard Suite,” Quinn said from the doorway, a large bouquet of lilies in his hand.

  Her throat raw from the smoke inhalation, she choked out, “Funny.” She pushed herself up. “I’m leaving this joint just as soon as the doctor comes by.”

  “I guess I don’t have to ask if the breathing treatments worked.”

  She patted her chest. “As good as new. It takes more than a little smoke—” she coughed several times “—and a few bruises to get me down.” Shifting to make herself more comfortable, she winced as a sharp pain knifed through her. “Well, maybe just as soon as my ribs heal.”

  Quinn took the chair next to her bed, placing the vase on the table beside Becca. “Escalante is under guard down the hall. Sam isn’t taking any chances. I think half the police force is taking turns making sure Escalante doesn’t escape while being treated.”

  “I’ll feel a whole lot better when he is permanently behind bars.”

  Quinn grasped her hand and brought it toward him, kissing the back of it. “He isn’t going anywhere. The D.A. has enough on him to lock him up and throw away the key.”

  “How are all the kids?” she asked, thinking about how she would have felt if she had been one of the parents waiting for the outcome of the siege. As she had negotiated with Escalante for the children’s release, she’d realized she wanted a child. Maybe not in the near future, but she wanted to experience what Holly and the others had gone through—carrying a baby for nine months and then delivering him. But the only one she wanted to be the father of her child was Quinn, and she had pushed him away.

  “Scared, but the parents are dealing with that. They’re just thanking God none of the children were hurt. Most of the kids didn’t realize exactly what was happening.”

  “And Manuel?”

  “Happy in the arms of his mother and father. I don’t think Peter and Emily will be letting him out of their sight anytime soon.”

  “I can understand that feeling.” Not sure what else to talk about with Quinn, Becca slid her glance toward the flowers. “They’re beautiful, but you shouldn’t have. I’m fine. In fact, I hope to be back at work tomorrow as planned.”

  Quinn chuckled. “I expected you to say something like that. You can take a few days off.”

  “I’ve got a lot of paperwork to fill out in regards to the incident yesterday at the church.”

  “Sam’s taking care of that. He knew you would say that and told me to tell you he didn’t want to see you until at least Wednesday.”

  “He’s my partner, not my supervisor. Besides, he has his own injury to worry about.”

  “Actually, that came from the captain. And Sam told me his head is too hard to break.”

  She would have released a huff, but the action of breathing deeply hurt. So instead, she sent Quinn a frown. “I think there’s a conspiracy going on here. What am I suppose to do with myself? I nearly went stir-crazy last week recuperating from the gunshot wound,” she said in a teasing voice, but she studied Quinn’s reaction to her words. Her job was a barrier between them she didn’t know how to scale, short of quitting the police force. Could she walk away from something she enjoyed and be happy in the long run? In the middle of all that had happened at the church, she’d felt she was doing something that counted—trying to save some people from going through what she had when her father died in a hostage situation. That was important to her.

  He frowned. “You’re really gonna be difficult about this resting, aren’t you?”

  “Yep.”

  “You could go shopping for a new dress for Colleen and Alessandro’s delayed reception next Saturday. The one you wore yesterday is beyond repair.”

  “Oh, good. I wondered what they were going to do since their wedding was disrupted.”

  “They delayed their honeymoon trip to Italy and rescheduled the reception. This time it really will be a celebration of the end of Escalante’s reign of terror. There’s no doubt where he is now.” He cupped her hand between his, stroking its back while staring down at their physical connection.

  Silence stretched between them until Becca couldn’t take it any longer. “Quinn,” she whispered a hair before he said her name.

  “You go first,” she offered, her mouth suddenly parched, the feel of his fingers surrounding her
s heady. How in the world did she ever think she could walk away from Quinn?

  “Will you go with me to Colleen’s reception next Saturday? I know you said we should go our separate ways. What can I do to change your mind?”

  “Nothing,” she managed to get out.

  Her answer sent his stomach plummeting as though he’d fallen off a ledge. She wasn’t going to budge. “Becca, I understand how important your job is to you,” he said, determined to make her see they could have a relationship beyond friendship. “I was wrong to ask you to choose between me and your career. I know now what you do is part of who you are. How can I ask you to cut that out of your life? That would be like me never making a piece of furniture with my hands.”

  Pain flitting across her features, she struggled to sit straight up in bed, swinging her legs over the edge so she faced him. “What are you saying, Quinn?”

  “I’m saying I love you. I want you to give me another chance. I don’t care if you don’t want a family. How can I ask another woman to be a mother to my children when you’re the one I love?” One corner of his mouth quirked. “I do have a lot of nieces and nephews. That will have to satisfy me.”

  She averted her gaze for a long second, then reestablished eye contact with him, wonder in her expression. “Actually, having children might be negotiable.”

  “It is?” He wound his arms around her.

  “I have to warn you, I’m a tough negotiator. I’ve taken classes to perfect my technique.”

  “So we should date and see where this relationship leads?” Hope flared in him.

  “Yes. The other night, I was letting my fear rule my heart. I’ve always kept an emotional distance because of what happened to my father. His death threw my life into chaos, changing everything. I became the caregiver in the house, even before my mother died.” She pressed her hand along the side of his face. “Now I know I wasn’t fully living, experiencing everything I should. I need to see where these intense feelings for you will lead us. I don’t want to walk away.”

  Quinn looked deep into her eyes. “Great. I’m thinking we shouldn’t wait until next Saturday to go out. Since you’re gonna be going stir-crazy, how about going to dinner and a movie?”

  “Better yet, let’s inaugurate my brand-new kitchen.”

  Taking her face in his hands, he whispered his lips across hers. “I like your suggestion better. I can bring a movie to watch after you and I fix dinner together.”

  “Together,” she murmured. “That’s a beautiful word.”

  “I agree.” Quinn deepened the kiss, pouring all his love into it.

  EPILOGUE

  Wearing an emerald green silk cocktail dress, Becca stood by Quinn’s side, surveying the vast ballroom at the Broadmoor Hotel where Lucia Vance and Rafael Wright’s wedding reception was being held. Quinn reached out and took hold of her hand, then entered the crowd, full of Vances and Montgomerys.

  “I think half the city is here,” Becca whispered.

  “I know all of my family is here.”

  “Sam has been beside himself this past week with his baby sister finally getting married. Good thing it’s been quiet at the station.”

  “Too cold for people to be out committing crimes,” Quinn said, slipping his hand to the small of her back as he guided her through a group of guests.

  “Yeah, but we’re in the middle of the holiday season. We usually see more crimes.” Becca glanced toward one of the large windows. “It’s snowing again.”

  “I love cold weather. Perfect time to snuggle up.”

  She peered back at Quinn. “In front of a roaring fire.”

  “Sold. Let’s skip out—”

  Laughing, Becca pressed her fingers over his mouth to still his words. “There’s no way we can leave for at least an hour, Quinn Montgomery. Your mother would never forgive you or me. Besides, Ken and Julianna are saving us a place at their table.”

  “Okay. One hour. Then we leave.”

  He caught her gaze and silently transmitted his desire to be alone with her. For the past five months they had been an inseparable couple, spending all their spare time together. Becca wanted more. She knew that each time Quinn had to say goodbye and go to his own home. More and more she found herself imagining them as a family with a child—maybe even two. A girl and a boy.

  “I see Ken waving to us.” Quinn steered her around several tables covered in white linen cloths with bone-china, silver and crystal place settings, giving the cream and gold room an added fairy-tale look, perfect for a wedding reception.

  “I was excited to hear from Julianna the other day when I came to your office that she and Ken are now officially engaged. She said they’ll get married in the spring.”

  At the table Quinn pulled out a chair for Becca, leaning down to whisper in her ear, “Love is in the air.”

  Shivers flashed down her. His breath teased her neck right before he kissed it. She didn’t blush often, but she felt the heat singe her cheeks as Ken and Julianna sat across from her, watching their exchange.

  “Is there anything you want to tell us?” Ken asked, a twinkle in his eyes.

  Quinn took a seat next to Becca. “Your cousin looked beautiful this evening walking down the aisle.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  Julianna gave Ken a look that shut his mouth.

  “Okay, what’s going on here?” Becca asked, narrowing her gaze on Quinn.

  Innocence bathed his features. “Nothing. We were discussing the wedding. That’s what you do at one.”

  Something was up, Becca was sure, and Quinn knew how much she wasn’t into surprises. When she got him alone she would interrogate him further. After all, she was a police detective and had those skills down. She’d know what plot Quinn, Ken and Julianna were concocting by the end of the evening.

  Holly slipped into the chair next to Quinn. “Sorry I’m late. I had to feed Faith before I could come. I can’t believe she’s already a chowhound—she’s only six weeks old! Probably going through a growth spurt. Although with Jake as her dad, I imagine she’ll be doing a lot of that.”

  Holly’s husband settled into the last chair at the table for six. “I predict many restless nights in store for this father when Faith grows up.”

  “You’ll rise to the occasion. Aunt Marilyn would probably say that you deserve every moment of it after the things you pulled as a teenager.”

  “Look who’s talking, cousin,” Jake said with a laugh directed at Quinn. “Should I go into some of the scrapes you and Ken got into?” He swung his gaze to Becca. “Better not. Your date is a cop.”

  “And what do you call yourself?” Quinn asked.

  “I work for the FBI.”

  “Bringing down criminals. The same as Becca.” Quinn slipped his arm along the back of her chair.

  The proud tone in Quinn’s voice warmed her. It had taken some time for him to adjust to her job as a homicide detective and sometime hostage negotiator, but they had both prayed about it and put themselves in God’s hands. Worry consumed your energy; faith energized you.

  “Did you see Colleen, Alessandro and Mia earlier at the church? They just got in from Italy for the holidays and wedding.” Holly scanned the ballroom. “They’re over there talking to Liza and Frank. I can’t believe how much Mia has grown since the summer. Kids grow up too fast.”

  Becca saw the glow in Holly’s expression. Motherhood suited her. Thank You, Lord, for giving her Faith. I know how hard her pregnancy was. Maybe one day she would experience motherhood from nurturing the baby in the womb and giving birth to raising the child. As her thirty-first birthday and the end of her college degree neared, thoughts of having a child of her own had grown.

  Listening to the others talk while feasting on the meal, Becca knew how lucky she was to have come home to the Lord and found a wonderful set of friends. Even though she wasn’t a part of Quinn’s family, they always made her feel as if she were.

  Exactly an hour after she and Quinn had arrived at the re
ception, Quinn placed a hand on her arm and bent toward her. “Let’s go. We’ve put in our appearance.”

  She wanted to be alone with him. Suddenly she needed to know where their relationship was going. Escalante’s threat was gone now that he was going to prison for murder and drug trafficking. Even the last mystery surrounding Escalante had been solved when Michael had seen his picture in the paper. Escalante had been Hector Delgato, Michael’s supposedly missing foreman, which certainly explained a lot about what had happened at Michael’s ranch last spring.

  The best thing that had happened over the past few months was that she and Quinn shared a deep faith and a love for each other. But she wanted more—her own family with him.

  She pushed her chair back, said her goodbyes and threaded her way through the crowd to the exit with Quinn by her side. He helped her slip into her black wool coat and then held the door open for her. She stepped outside to the softly falling snow.

  Looking up at it reflected in the lights from the hotel, she felt as if she had entered a dreamland. The blanket of white cushioned all sounds, making it quiet, and everything pure and clean. She took a deep breath of the crisp air, relishing the hint of burning wood. Someone had a fire going. That thought turned her to what Quinn and she had discussed earlier about going home to snuggle before a fire. She started for Quinn’s truck.

  He halted her. “What’s the hurry?”

  “I was thinking about that fire and snuggling.”

  “We don’t need a fire to snuggle.” He drew her into his embrace, pulling her up against him.

  Snow continued to fall, her eyelashes catching a few flakes. “That’s true.” She couldn’t resist the impish grin that graced his expression. He was up to something. “Okay, what’s up?”

  “This.” He knelt on the fallen snow, reached into his coat pocket and produced a small box. “Will you marry me, Rebecca Hilliard?”

  The air swooshed from her lungs at the look of love that molded his expression, illuminated by the lamplight in the parking lot. He rose and tugged her to him.