“Who took care of you?”
“Like I said, I’m too tired for this.” She closed her eyes, closed her mouth. Shut in all the things she could have said.
No one had taken care of her. For as long as she could remember, she’d taken care of herself. Made her own meals, washed her own clothes, cleaned her room and the house and mopped up puke and stale alcohol when her father went on a drinking binge. She’d learned to survive the hard way. Cut fingers from sharp knives. Blisters from hot pans, and reddened skin from scalding water. Cold nights when she forgot to pay the electric bill the year her mother died. By the time Tessa left, Skylar could run a house on her own.
She just hadn’t wanted to.
Tears slid down her cheeks again.
Because she couldn’t change the past. Couldn’t save her mother or father or Tessa. Couldn’t save Jonas’s wife or his tiny baby. Couldn’t even save herself.
Wings beat the air. Giant vultures swooping down to devour her before she was even dead, and Skylar gasped, opening her eyes to whirling wind and pounding chopper blades. Jonas stood a few feet away, waving at the pilot as the helicopter touched down.
She stood, swaying, wanting to run toward safety and civilization and everything she’d spent almost a week struggling for, but her feet were glued to the ground, her body too weak. She tried to call Jonas back, but her throat was hot and tight, what little sound she made swept away on the rushing wind.
He turned anyway. As if he’d heard her. Sensed her.
A foolish thought, but it stayed as he frowned, the irritation on his face overshadowed by the concern in his eyes.
“You just don’t know when to stay down, do you?” He swept her into his arms, lifting her easily.
A knight in shining armor.
A warrior hero.
A man.
She’d learned her lesson about men just like she’d learned everything else in life—the hard way.
They couldn’t be trusted. They couldn’t be counted on.
The world spun as Jonas jogged to the helicopter, handed her over the waiting medic. A sack of potatoes. That’s what she felt like. A bruised and battered bag. Someone wrapped another blanket around her shoulders, asked her a question she couldn’t hear or didn’t understand. She didn’t know which, couldn’t think past the quick movement and twirling world, the rapid pulse of chopper blades and howling wind.
Jonas.
Where was he?
She searched for him as she was strapped to a backboard and lifted onto the chopper, and he was there, leaning close so that his lips brushed her ear. “I’m going to backtrack to the mesa, see if I can find our friends’ trail. If I do, it’ll give the police something to go on.”
“No!” she shouted, loudly enough that the medic pressed a gentle hand to her shoulder.
“You need to relax, Ms. Grady. You’ve been through a lot.”
“I’m not leaving without—”
But Jonas was already gone, slipping away before she could grab his hand and try to keep him from going.
She struggled against the straps that held her in place, and the medic leaned close, looked in her eyes. “Ma’am, you’re going to have to calm down.”
“You can’t leave Jonas behind.”
“It’s his choice. Not ours. The sooner you settle down, the sooner we can get you to Phoenix and come back.” The medic’s tone was firm, but there was sympathy in his dark brown eyes.
“But—”
“Jonas Sampson is one tough son of a gun. He’s traveled this area more than any other person I know. You don’t have to worry about him. Just worry about yourself and getting healthy again. Now I’m going to hook you up to some fluids, try to get your fever down. You’ll feel better about everything when you’re not burning up.” He swabbed the inside of her elbow with alcohol, told her to hold still.
She didn’t feel the pinch as the line was placed, felt nothing but numb dismay and scorching heat and the awful knowledge that she’d made it out of the desert, but that she’d left Jonas behind.
Keep him safe, Lord. Please.
The chopper lifted off, and Skylar’s world shifted, tilted, sideways and back and up and down, and she spun into a vortex of images and sounds. Desert and rain and caves and climbs. Guns and shadows. Tessa reaching for her, and Skylar reaching back. Light and darkness, and finally nothing, but silence. The velvety darkness she’d longed for seeping in, covering it all.
Except for him.
The knight.
The hero.
The man.
Jonas, his words whispering in her ear.
I was helpless to save either of them. I’m not helpless to save you.
He’d proven his words.
He’d saved her.
But could he save himself?
SEVEN
Jonas hated hospitals.
Hated the scent and sound and feel of them.
The frantic energy that poured from the people that moved through the emergency room ebbed and flowed like the tide, tugging Jonas with it.
If he let himself, he could fall into an emotional time warp, feel what he’d felt the night Gabriella was shot. See everything—his blood-soaked dress shoes, his stained-red hands hanging limply between his knees as he waited for news he knew would not be good.
She’d been dead before the ambulance arrived at the scene. Probably dead before he’d pressed frantic hands over the blood spurting from her chest.
A bullet straight to the heart.
No way to save her.
Nothing that could have been done.
Those had been the doctor’s words, but Jonas had only heard his own recriminations.
He’d moved Gabriella from Phoenix to New Mexico to pursue his dream of becoming a border patrol agent. In the end, his dream had killed her and their son. Time had healed some of his sorrow, but it hadn’t assuaged his guilt.
He felt it acutely as he strode through the waiting room and approached the receptionist. “Excuse me—”
“Go ahead and sign in. We’ll call you back in a few minutes,” she said without looking up, and he bit back impatience. It wasn’t her fault he’d been waylaid by the police as soon as he’d gotten off the helicopter. Not her fault he’d spent the past hour and a half explaining what had happened out in the desert.
Not her fault that he was hungry, tired and ready to be done with the hospital.
No one’s fault but his own that he’d allowed Kane to talk him into searching for Skylar.
Talk him into it?
Kane had asked. Jonas had said yes. Simple as that.
He’d gotten the call three days ago, and, for the first time in years, Jonas had felt a buzz of excitement, a hum of adrenaline. He’d gone with it. Reported to search and rescue, asked to be allowed access to the site where Skylar’s jeep had been found. Not expecting that he’d find a woman alive, but expecting that he could at least help a friend in need find closure.
He had found Skylar alive, though, and he planned to make sure she stayed that way.
“I’m hoping you can help me find a patient that arrived by chopper a couple hours ago. Skylar Grady.” He kept his voice even and his expression pleasant, and the receptionist finally looked up.
“You mean the woman who was missing in the desert for a week?”
“That’s the one.”
“She’s been admitted. Are you a friend or family member?”
“I’m Jonas Sampson. I—”
“You found her. I guess that makes you a friend. She’s already been admitted.” She typed something into the computer, read the information that popped up on the screen. “Room 432. Visitation is limited, so check in at the nurse’s station before you go in.”
“Thanks.” He hurried through the emergency room, pulling out his cell phone as he went. He needed to call Kane, let him know Skylar had been found.
“Dougherty here. You have news?”
“You were right. Skylar is too stubborn to die.
”
“You found her?” The relief in Kane’s voice was unmistakable, and that feeling Jonas had, the one that said he was doing what he was meant to be doing, using his skill the way he was meant to, settled deep, surprising him. He hadn’t had that in a long time. He’d forgotten how good it felt. An instant later, he pushed the feeling away. This wasn’t his life anymore. This was just a favor to a friend. He couldn’t let it be anything more.
He’d found Skylar and now he was going to make arrangements for her to fly back to New York, just like he’d promised in the first place. Then, all of this would be over.
Yeah, right. As if it would really be that easy.
“We’re at Phoenix General Hospital.”
“Is she okay?”
“She should be. I’m heading up to her room now. I was held up by the police and haven’t seen her since she arrived.”
“Police?”
“We’ve got a problem, Kane. A big one. Whatever you sent Skylar here to do, she’s in it deep. Deep enough that someone wants her dead.” He filled in Kane on what little he knew, explained what had happened in the desert.
“I sent her to find a guy who owes back child support. That shouldn’t be enough to bring out a posse. I want her on the next plane back to New York. Tell her I’ll send a couple people out to track down Redmond and figure out what’s going on.”
“I’ll tell her.” But he doubted she’d listen. Sick as she’d been, she’d climbed a hundred and fifty feet straight up, walked all night, and managed to fight Jonas most of the way while she was doing it. She wasn’t going to turn tail and run because Kane said she should.
“She’s going to refuse, so you’re going to have to find a way to convince her.” Kane said exactly what Jonas was thinking.
“Me? You’re her boss. It seems like you should be the one to convince her.”
“And it seems to me that you’ve run short on backbone.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were afraid to face down a 120-pound woman.”
“Nice try, Kane, but we’re not college students anymore. You can’t convince me to do something by calling me chicken.” He punched the elevator button, anxious to get up to Skylar’s room, make sure she was okay.
Make sure she was there.
Based on what he’d seen out in the desert, he wouldn’t be surprised if she was planning an escape.
“I figured as much, but I had to try. The truth is, there’s no way Skylar is going to listen to me.”
“But you think she’ll listen to me?”
“You saved her life. That has to have some value.” Jonas got on the elevator, wished things would be as easy as Kane was making them sound.
Go up to the room.
Convince Skylar to leave town.
Go back to his life.
“Guilt value, you mean?”
“Whatever works.”
“I don’t have to tell you that nothing will work, do I?”
“I’d appreciate the effort, anyway. If you can’t get her on the plane…I hate to ask, but—”
“I’ll keep an eye on her. Do what I can to help with the investigation.”
“I can pay you an hourly wage. Same rate I pay my part-time investigators. Just submit a bill once she’s back home.”
“No. And don’t insult me by offering again. I’ll keep you posted.” He disconnected before Kane could argue. They’d been friends since college, had supported each other through some tough times. He’d help because of that, and because he wasn’t going to walk away and leave Skylar to fight her battle alone.
A nurse looked up as he stepped off the elevator, offering a quizzical smile. “Can I help you?”
“I’m here to visit Skylar Grady.”
“I’m sorry. That won’t be possible. She can’t have visitors, yet. Maybe, tomorrow—”
“It’s going to have to be today. I just spent fifteen hours getting her out of the desert, and I want to make sure she’s okay.”
“Oh.” Her eyes widened, and she smiled. “You’re the Shadow Wolf who finally managed to track her down.”
“I was a Shadow Wolf, ma’am. Now I’m a contractor.” Apparently news was traveling fast. He’d known when he’d handed Skylar to Tanner Morgan that it would. They’d been buddies in high school, had lost touch for a few years and reconnected when Jonas moved back to Arizona.
“Sorry.” She blushed. “Ms. Grady’s room is just down the hall to the left.”
“Thanks.” He strode down the corridor, nearly walking into Skylar as she stepped out of her room.
“Jonas! What are you doing here?”
“Coming to see you. Seems like I was almost too late.”
“Actually, you’re just in time. I need a ride back to Cave Creek.”
“You don’t really think I’m going to give you one, do you?” She was hooked up to an IV, and he slid the pole from her grasp, gently urging her back into the room.
“I was hoping.” She collapsed onto the bed, bare feet and legs sticking out from under a cotton hospital gown. Knicks and scratches covered both shins, and her feet were blistered and raw. Someone had braided her hair, pulling the wild mane of curls back to reveal sunburned cheeks and a bruised forehead.
“Tell you what, I’ll give you a ride to the airport. Get you on a plane to New York.” He grabbed a chair, settled into it.
“You don’t really think I’m going to let you do that, do you?” She threw back at him, closely mimicking his response to her request.
“I’d probably be disappointed if you did. Or think you were a lot sicker than you look.”
“I look like a train wreck, and this isn’t doing anything to improve things.” She plucked at the neck of her hospital gown, her fingers brushing the arrowhead he’d given her.
“I see you still have this.” He touched the cool stone, then her cheek, feeling for a fever. Warm. Not hot. Smooth and silky despite the sunburn and scratches. He had the urge to linger there, let his fingers explore the sharp angle of her cheekbone, the gentle curve of her jaw. Surprised, he dropped his hand away.
“They tried to take it from me in the emergency room, but I told the nurse if she reached for it again, I’d take her arm off.”
“Nice.”
“I wasn’t in the best frame of mind. What with you ditching me and heading back into the desert alone and all. I figured if you died, your family might want this, and I didn’t want the hospital to lose it. Since you’re here—” She started to drag it over her head, but he stopped her.
“Do you always try to return gifts?”
“It wasn’t a gift. It was an award. Something given in jest.”
“I don’t give anything in jest, Grady.”
“Then, thank you. It’s beautiful. I couldn’t see it last night, but your grandfather was quite an artisan.” She let the arrowhead fall, her fingers twirling one of the turquoise beads Pops had crafted and strung on the leather cord.
“You were on your way out of the room when I got here. Where were you headed?”
“To the nurse’s station. I want this IV out.”
“You need the fluids.”
“So the doctor told me. Over and over and over again. Fluids and an antibiotic. I told him to give me a couple bottles of water and a prescription, but he refused.” She frowned, standing up and pacing across the room, dragging the IV pole behind her.
“You’ve been through—”
“Jonas, if you tell me that I’ve been through a lot and say I need to rest, I will take this IV pole and knock you over the head with it.” She scowled, her dark eyes flashing with irritation.
“Feeling a little ornery, Grady?”
She shot him a heated look, then shook her head, offering a sheepish grin. “Maybe. Every nurse and doctor who’s looked at me has said the same thing. You’ve been through a lot. You need to rest. The thing is, I’ve been through worse than a six-day hike. I know my
body, and it’s saying that another round of antibiotics and a good meal will do me a lot more good than a hospital room and an IV. Besides, sticking around makes me feel like a sitting duck. Anyone could walk in here. I don’t have a weapon since the doctor insisted on passing the one we confiscated on to the police. I’m not sure I have the strength to hold my own in a physical fight.”
“So, you want to go to ground for a while, hide out until you’re feeling better?”
She hesitated, fingered the arrowhead again. “You could say that.”
“I could, but you’re not?”
“I want a safe place to crash for a few hours, but I want justice more. Unless you managed to round up the entire posse of bad guys when you went back into the desert, I’ve got some work to do before I get that rest.”
“I’m afraid I came up empty. I found a trail that the police are following, but that’s it.”
“Like I said, I have work to do.” She walked toward the door again, and he grabbed her arm, pulled her to a stop.
“This isn’t a good idea, Grady.”
“And staying here is? We don’t know who was out in the desert with us, Jonas. Until we do, I don’t trust anyone. Not doctors, not nurses, not people wandering through the halls. This place is teeming with all three.”
“It’s a hospital. What else did you expect?”
“Look, maybe I sound paranoid and maybe leaving isn’t the best idea, but the last time I didn’t listen to my instincts, I got shot three times and came so close to dying the doctors still don’t know how I lived. Right now my instincts are telling me to get out of here. That’s what I plan to do. You can help me or not. Either way, as soon as I get this IV taken out, I’m hitting the road.”
“You know what would make me happy, Grady?” he muttered, and she met his gaze, her dark eyes flashing.
Lone Defender (Love Inspired Suspense) Page 6
