His Risk

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  As she sipped her coffee, Alice decided to watch it grow. And while it did, she gave thanks for another day and tried to concentrate on the lingering scent of Calvin’s cigarettes instead of the smoke from the car fire in the distance.

  Chapter 8

  Thursday, February 8

  Another two days passed before Alice saw any sign of life over at the Fishers’ house. She’d certainly been looking, too.

  This wasn’t something she was proud of. She knew better than to think too long about a man that was so unsuitable—knew better than to not only be attracted to him but to even have a friendship with him.

  Yet having this knowledge didn’t change her behavior. Actually, it seemed that it was out of her hands.

  She found herself looking for Calvin’s truck every time she ventured outside. She’d also found herself gazing out her windows late at night, hoping to see lights shining in the house. But so far, she hadn’t seen anything at all.

  Alice figured everyone was at the hospital. She had no idea how long one stayed at the hospital after having a kidney removed. She wished she would have thought to ask Calvin that. But because she hadn’t, she was forced to simply hope and pray that the surgery had gone all right and that Mark Fisher was simply recovering.

  When she wasn’t thinking about the Fishers or taking care of Valentine, Alice was as busy as ever with school. This week her tiny scholars were learning about George Washington and Abraham Lincoln. She’d even checked out a book from the library about President Washington extolling the dangers of lying.

  She’d been pretty proud of that lesson. She’d read the book out loud and led a discussion about lying, the children sitting on the ground around her in a semicircle. Their eyes had been wide with the idea of such a great man telling tales.

  Since then, her little scholars had taken the lesson to heart, too. Now they couldn’t seem to stop telling her the truth about everything—from what they thought about each other, to unusual things their parents liked to say and do, to their many likes and dislikes. More than once Alice had had to pinch herself so she wouldn’t burst into laughter . . . or wince, after learning something that obviously wasn’t meant to be shared.

  Yes, she had indeed ended up finding out a bit too much information about her students’ families. However, all that sharing did have a silver lining.

  It kept her mind off of all the other things that were happening around Horse Cave.

  The first incident had been the mysterious car fire that she’d smelled on Tuesday morning. She’d gotten chills when one of her students’ parents relayed that it had been a black SUV. The picture in the newspaper showed only a burnt shell, but the journalist also had provided a photo of what the car usually looked like.

  It looked just like the one that had passed her before Calvin picked her up. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was the same one.

  But even the awful car fire didn’t worry her as much as Mark Fisher’s recovery did. Maybe it was because she stared at his house every morning . . . or maybe it was because Calvin was his brother—still, every couple of hours, Alice would find herself thinking about him. She hated being so close to his situation but not close enough to actually help him or his family in some meaningful way.

  All she could do was wait and worry. Was his condition worse? She hoped and prayed that wasn’t the case. Should she consider walking down to the phone shanty and giving the hospital a call?

  Now, here it was Thursday evening. Though she had a book open in her lap, she couldn’t help but spend more time gazing out the windows instead of at what was written on each page.

  Finally, giving up all pretense of reading, Alice stood at the window and peered across the street.

  She knew she shouldn’t be concerned, but she was. All sorts of terrible things kept running through her head. Maybe Mark’s surgery went badly. Or there were complications afterward.

  Or they found even more cancer. Then, too, she couldn’t understand where all of their family was. Though the Fisher boys didn’t have any more relatives, she knew that Waneta did. Why was no one stopping by?

  Why, her own brothers, their wives, and her parents would have practically moved inside her house if her husband was having such a serious operation.

  Now she was kicking herself for not getting any more details about Calvin’s hospital visit. She could have tried to call to check on the Fishers or, at the very least, offered to cook them meals or clean their house. Anything to help out.

  Just as she was about to turn away, Calvin’s truck pulled into the driveway. And then, there was Calvin! At last!

  Before taking the time to second-guess herself, Alice ran to the front door, threw it open, and hurried over to see him.

  She reached his side just as Calvin was unlocking the front door.

  He stiffened in surprise, then gradually, he relaxed. “Hiya, Alice. What’s going on?”

  “Oh, Calvin, what isn’t?”

  Immediately, his expression grew concerned. He reached out and clasped her arms. “What’s wrong? Did something happen to you?”

  “Not at all. I’m fine. I’ve been worried about your brother. Is Mark okay?”

  He swiped a hand over his face. “He’s as well as can be expected. At least, that’s what everyone is saying.” With a sigh, he rolled his shoulders, like he was trying to get the kinks out.

  The gesture looked so weary, her heart went out to him. It must have been a terrible couple of days. “Did they get all the cancer?”

  He shrugged. “The surgeons said they thought they got it all, but they took all kinds of samples of other tissues so we don’t know for sure. I’m learning that even at the hospital, everything takes time.”

  “I’m really sorry.”

  Calvin blinked, looking surprised. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. It’s been difficult, but we have to just keep praying and hoping that what the doctors say is true. They say a lot of patients can recover just fine from this kind of cancer. And that they can live a long life on just one kidney, too.”

  His words might be sure, but she heard a hoarseness in his voice that told how he was really feeling.

  “Is there anything I can do for you? What about Waneta? I had assumed she would be coming back here every night. Or her parents would.”

  “Neeta’s been sleeping at her parents’ haus. That’s where she is now.”

  “Where have you been sleeping?”

  Looking at her more intently, he murmured, “I’ve been at the hospital, Alice.”

  “I didn’t think they had extra beds for visitors.”

  “They don’t. I’ve been sleeping in the chair next to Mark’s bed.”

  “You’ve been sleeping in a chair? That can’t be comfortable.” Remembering their early morning conversation and his chain-smoking, she said, “Have you been getting any sleep at all?”

  He averted his eyes. “Not a lot. But some. Don’t worry about me.” A small smile lit his features. “I’ve slept in worse places, Alice. I’ll be fine.”

  “Oh. Of course,” she mumbled, suddenly embarrassed. Calvin Fisher was a grown man, a very capable man, and here she was, talking to him like he was one of her preschoolers. When was she ever going to learn to talk to men like they were men and not small boys under her care?

  When he didn’t say anything more, just looked at her in that almost-tender way of his, Alice backed up a step. She was such a foolish girl. “You know what?” she asked, far too brightly. “I bet you’re tired. I’ll let you go get to sleep.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “I am tired, but all I’ve been thinking about for the last couple of hours was taking a hot shower. I feel like my shoulders are full of knots.”

  He was about to shower. In spite of being a grown woman, she felt her face flush. “Well, good night, then,” she said in a rush.

  “Hold on. Let me walk you home.”

  Next thing she knew, he had her hand firmly clasped in his. As much as she liked
holding his hand—and she really did—she felt foolish. “It’s only across the street, Calvin. I think I’ll be able to navigate my way just fine.”

  “Humor me. I like making sure you are safe,” he said as they walked up the four steps to her front porch.

  “Thank you for looking out for me,” she said softly.

  When they got to her door and she opened it, he leaned against the frame. “Listen, by tomorrow afternoon, we should get a better idea of how my brother is doing. What time do you head home from school?”

  “Usually, around three or four.”

  “How about I meet you there and take you home?”

  She almost protested, saying how there was no need for him to go to so much trouble. But then she saw something in his gaze. He needed to have this chore. “Danke, Calvin. I would like that. My school is right near Floyd’s Pond. It’s just at the top—”

  “I know where your school is, Alice,” he interrupted. “I’ll be there at three thirty.”

  Her insides gave a little burst of happiness, even as she told herself that this was not a date. “Danke.”

  For the first time since she’d greeted him, he grinned. “You’re welcome. Good night.”

  “Night.”

  “Don’t forget to lock this door. I’m going to stand here until I hear the bolt click.”

  “Calvin, there’s no—” But before she could finish her thought, he jerked open the door from her grasp and rushed inside. Just as he slammed the door shut and bolted it, she spoke. “What is—”

  “Quiet!” Looking around the neat but rather sparse living room, he pointed toward the couch. “Get behind the couch. And stay there. Whatever happens, don’t come out until I tell you to.”

  “But—”

  “For once, listen to me without arguing, Alice!” he said harshly as he walked back to the window.

  Very afraid now, she practically crawled behind the couch—and couldn’t help but peer at him.

  He was crouched near the window, muttering to himself. When he contorted to pull his cell phone out from his back pocket, she noticed for the first time that he had something nestled in the small of his back.

  She blinked, at first sure that her eyes had deceived her.

  She might be naïve, but even she knew what that was.

  Her lungs tightened as the reality of their situation set in. Calvin Fisher had brought a gun into her house, and she was fairly certain he intended to use it.

  Chapter 9

  Thursday evening, February 8

  His heart was pounding so loud, Calvin swore he was about to have a heart attack.

  Why had the head of the Kings just driven down the street? He knew he wasn’t mistaken, either. It wasn’t just any black SUV—plus, the sight of it would have taken anyone by surprise here in the middle of rural Kentucky. That sedan had a ton of polished chrome, and was tricked out with darkened windows and black rims. He’d never seen another car quite like it.

  As Alice shifted restlessly behind him, Calvin forced himself to ignore her unease and concentrate on why West was there. No, he was forcing himself to come to terms with the only reason West would have come here himself. He was no doubt there to kill him.

  Calvin’s cover must have been blown—that was the only thing that made sense. It would explain why West, who usually stayed out of sight and only left his home heavily guarded, would come to Horse Cave in person. With only Smith by his side.

  Smith was West’s bodyguard, confidently the only person handing out West’s directives. Smith wasn’t the man’s real name, of course. No one had ever told Calvin what it was. He had heard rumors that he’d gotten the name because he could blend into the background unnoticed. Others said it was because the guy was a good shot—so it was Smith, as in the gunmaker Smith & Wesson.

  All Calvin knew or cared about was that the guy was smart and clinically cold. Nothing seemed to ever shake him up.

  Which was the exact opposite of how Calvin felt at the moment. If Smith or West had come to kill him, then neither would have any problem shooting him in front of Alice.

  Alice would see that, too. And because she was so obstinate and impulsive, just about anything could happen. Maybe she’d even rush out and get caught, get herself hurt, too.

  Sweat broke out on his temple. Slid down his back. If Alice was harmed, it was on his shoulders.

  When he was coming back to Horse Cave, he realized there was a strong possibility of bringing his garbage with him and tainting his brother’s life. Now he had not only done that, but he could be hurting Alice, too.

  When his hands started to shake, he inhaled deeply. He needed to get a grip on himself before he made things worse.

  “Calvin, what are you doing with that gun tucked into your back? Is . . . Is someone outside on the porch?” Alice asked after several more minutes passed. “Should we go into another room and hide? Or—”

  “Hush,” he said. If they were in another situation, he would be grinning. There she was, hunkered in a ball behind the couch—and what was she doing? Offering helpful suggestions.

  He would have been proud of her if he wasn’t so afraid he was about to get her killed. His little preschool teacher was no shrinking violet. Instead, she had a bossy, take-charge streak that was a mile long. No one, not even gang members, it seemed, was safe from her efforts.

  When he heard her sigh, his smile faded. He needed to tell her something, anything to help her settle. But though he knew that, Calvin couldn’t bring himself to speak. After all, what could he say?

  Then all thoughts left him when he saw the black Suburban pass again.

  Knowing that West’s slow drive-by was the only warning he was going to get, Calvin clenched his phone. He was going to need to call him. And then he was going to have to go outside and wait for him to return.

  But first, he had to do something about Alice. Since there really was no story that he could fabricate that would shine any sort of positive light on this situation, he elected to give her the skeleton version of the truth.

  Walking away from the window, he carefully knelt by her side.

  She looked stressed out—and afraid of him. He hated that, and had no one to blame but himself. He should have never talked to her so much. He should have never made her think that he could ever be someone she could trust or befriend.

  Taking care to keep his voice even, he spoke, knowing all the while that he was going to have to be quick. “Alice, a member of the, uh, organization that I’m in just drove by the house. I need to go out there to speak to him.”

  “Are you sure? Is it safe?”

  There she went again, trying to manage him. Trying to protect him.

  It was so humbling, it took everything he had to keep his voice even and easy. “I’ll be fine. You stay put, though.”

  “I don’t understand. If they are your friends, there’s nothing to be afraid of, is there?”

  “I don’t want them to see you.”

  “Well, I don’t like being down here.”

  He almost smiled. That was what he liked about her. This girl had gumption. In spades. “You know what? You should probably go to another room.” Seeing a narrow staircase leading to the basement, he pointed to it. “I want you to go down to the basement and stay there until I come back for you.”

  Her eyes widened before she shook her head. “Nee. I don’t want to go there. Ed never got it finished. There are tons of spiders.”

  “I want you to be safe.” When she still looked like she was going to put up a fuss—honestly this girl could give a number of men he knew a run for their money—he hardened his voice. “Don’t argue, okay? Just do it.”

  She bit her lip, looked ready to voice her displeasure yet again, then turned around and headed down the stairs.

  Hoping that he had scared her enough that she was going to stay put, Calvin strode toward the door and walked to the front porch, jerking the door shut behind him. With one hand, he pulled out his pistol; with the other,
he lifted his phone, about to dial.

  But he paused for a moment, and tried to see himself as West and Smith might. He was wearing old leather Nikes on his feet, worn jeans on his legs, and a long-sleeved Henley on his body. A black ball cap was on his head, serving to shield his eyes and his expression.

  Still one of the guys.

  As the seconds passed, his pulse raced, and every doubt and worry that he’d ever entertained rose up and threatened to choke him. What had he done, coming back here? Putting his brother and Waneta in danger. And now putting this innocent woman in danger, too?

  Hadn’t he learned that he couldn’t have everything? Especially not a future.

  He scanned the road again. Listened for an approaching vehicle. Felt his heartbeat slow as he sorted through options—wondering if he left right now and didn’t return, if that would be enough for his family and Alice to be safe.

  Cal’s keys were in his pocket. He could simply leave. After a while, Alice would creep upstairs, go back to her parents’ house, and chalk up the experience as the reason she shouldn’t trust a man like him.

  Then the car returned. Driving just as slowly. Probably not a degree over the twenty-five-mile-an-hour speed limit carefully posted at every intersection.

  Then it pulled to a stop in front of the house.

  Pocketing his gun, he stepped down the front steps just as both the driver’s and passenger’s side doors opened. Calvin tensed, then forced himself to breathe slowly as he saw that it definitely was West who had arrived. And there, just as he’d suspected, was Smith standing by his side.

  Both men were dressed much the same as he was. Jeans. Long-sleeved knit shirts. Black ball caps. But West had on expensive leather loafers and Smith had on thick-soled work boots. They looked as out of place on the street as Calvin felt half the time.

  They were also staring at the closed door suspiciously.

  “Never thought I’d see you greet two members of your family with a gun in your hand, Cal,” West drawled as he took care to walk to the neatly lined walkway that led from the street to the steps where Calvin was standing.