Riverbend Road

by RaeAnne Thayne

“Come in,” a voice said faintly.

  Wyn’s gaze met his for a brief instant, then she tried the knob. It turned easily and she pushed open the door.

  The room was lit by only a small lamp beside the sofa. Cade did a rapid-fire assessment of the scene. Andie’s little boy was no longer in the room, as far as he could tell. Neither of the children was there. That made things a little less complicated.

  A guy roughly six feet, two hundred pounds with sandy-blond hair and a mustache sat beside Andie with his arm around her. Her eyes were red and swollen and she had the beginnings of a black eye and red mark on her cheek where it looked as if she had been backhanded.

  Fury roiled through him and he wanted to grab the guy and shove his head against the wall, but Wyn had told him the man had a SIG Sauer. He couldn’t see it right now but he didn’t doubt it was close by.

  Wyn maintained her pretense that she was a tipsy Samantha Fremont.

  She wiggled her fingers in a vacuous sort of way. “Hi. Sorry to interrupt your little reunion. Hi.”

  The guy assessed Cade. “Who’s this?”

  “This is my friend. Isn’t he cute?”

  She did sound a little like Samantha Fremont, the big flirt. Or how he would imagine Sam might sound if she were plastered, which he had never witnessed. Much to his relief.

  Wyn looked around. “Where’s that adorbs little Willie? Is he in bed? I wanted to give him a good-night kiss.”

  “Yes,” Andrea said stiffly. “He’s in bed.”

  “Oh, too bad,” she said, though Cade knew she meant exactly the opposite.

  “Do you mind?” Rob said, his voice hard. “We’re kind of in the middle of something here. What’s the big emergency?”

  For a brief instant, Wyn flashed him a look of such naked hatred that Cade sincerely hoped the guy didn’t pick up on. She hid her slip quickly behind a boozy sigh.

  “I can’t find my cell phone anywhere. Did I leave it in here when I brought all your stuff over earlier?”

  “I...don’t think so,” Andie said. Her hands were trembling as much as her voice, he saw.

  “Are you sure? I’m positive I had it with me when we left the house.”

  “It’s not here,” Warren snapped. “End of story. I’m sure you’ll find it at home. Good night.”

  “Maybe we should try calling it,” Cade suggested.

  Wyn looked at him like he was the smartest male on the planet. If she ever wanted a job with the Haven Point community-theater troupe, he could highly recommend her. “Great idea,” she exclaimed, as if he had just invented the microwave. “Andie, where’s your phone? Is it in the kitchen? Can you help me find it?”

  “She’s fine,” Warren growled. “Your phone is not here, lady. Give it up. We’re going to have to ask you to leave now.”

  “It has to be somewhere. Why not here? Come on. Be a pal. It will only take a minute. Come with me to get your phone, Andrea.”

  That might have been a little too blatant or her drunk act was beginning to wear thin. Whatever the reason, Warren’s gaze sharpened on Wyn and his gaze seemed to land on the suspicious-looking bulge in her hoodie pocket. Cade saw the man’s hand flex at his side. Where the hell was the SIG Sauer? His own fingers curled, ready to draw.

  “Wait a minute,” Warren snapped, holding Andrea’s arm to keep her from getting up. “What did you say your name was again? And your friend’s?”

  Wynona’s gaze darted to his and Cade could see she also sensed the tide was shifting.

  To her credit, she tried to play it through. “Samantha Fremont. And this is my boyfriend Moose.” She hiccuped. “That’s his nickname. Not his real name.”

  “No,” he bit out, though he still didn’t produce the weapon. “I never forget a voice. You’re that bitch cop. Bailey. Not Samantha Fremont, or whatever the hell you said your name was.”

  “I’m not—” she started, but Warren didn’t let her finish. He obviously had the smell now, maybe because of Cade’s alert stance or that bulge in Wyn’s pocket.

  “You’re both cops. I’m guessing this is the hard-ass chief you were telling me about.”

  The situation was quickly spinning out of his control and he needed to act fast. “I’m Chief Cade Emmett. Are you Detective Robert Warren?”

  “Yeah. That’s right.”

  He pulled his service weapon at the exact same moment Wyn did, as if they’d rehearsed.

  “Sir, you are in violation of a protective order. Do you have any weapons on you right now?”

  The man’s gaze darted among all three of them and Cade could almost see him trying to spin the situation to his advantage.

  “This is all a big misunderstanding.”

  “I’m sure it is,” Cade lied. The only one misunderstanding anything was Warren, who must have thought he was dealing with a couple of hayseed small-town cops. “You can explain it to us all night long if you want, down at the station. I need you to show me your weapon right now.”

  Warren tried one last time, putting on a bluff, hearty smile. “You’re making a big mistake, Chief, Officer. I don’t know what lies you’ve heard from this grifter here, but we’re on the same team. I’m working an extensive fraud case in Portland that crosses state lines and Andrea Packer or Montgomery or whatever name she’s using is a prime suspect. I’ve just placed her under arrest and I need to transport her back to my jurisdiction. Right now you’re interfering with a criminal investigation.”

  Andie made a small, frightened sound, her gaze darting to the hallway where her children slept.

  Wyn didn’t give Cade a chance to reply.

  “That’s bull,” Wyn snapped, all trace of the ditzy drunk gone from her voice. “There’s no criminal investigation, except the one we’re going to be opening into your activities in the last year, especially your sexual assault against Andrea Montgomery six months ago.”

  Warren looked at Andrea with pure hatred. “Sexual assault? Is that what she said?”

  “It’s what she testified under oath before a judge this morning. He believed her and so do I.”

  “You stupid bitch,” he snarled. His hand twitched as if he wanted to backhand her again. Cade still couldn’t see his firearm but he knew it had to be close.

  “Detective Warren, this is your last warning,” he said, his voice as hard as his Glock. “You are in violation of a protective order and you are under arrest. Let go of her now and raise your hands where we can see them. I will not ask again.”

  “You stupid bitch,” he snarled again at Andie. “You ruined everything. If this is the way you treat the men who love you, it’s no wonder Jason jumped off that frigging bridge.”

  Before either Cade or Wyn could react, the man pulled out the SIG that had been concealed by Andrea’s skirt, yanked her head back by the hair with one hand and shoved the gun under her chin.

  She whimpered, tears dripping from her eyes.

  “Here’s the way this is going to go down. You two are going to put your weapons down and let me walk out of here, unless you want me splattering her brains all over this nice furniture.”

  “You shoot her and you’ll be dead a half second later,” Wyn promised.

  “Do you think I care about that right now? She ruined everything. My career is ruined. My marriage is ruined. You might as well shoot me, but I’m taking this bitch out first.”

  “Mama? What’s happening?”

  While Cade’s attention had been caught by the bastard with a gun to Andrea’s head, her daughter had apparently awakened. She stood in the doorway, eyes huge and terrified.

  What happened next probably took only two or three seconds out of his life but Cade died a thousand deaths.

  Like the rest of them, Warren turned at the girl’s voice and Wynona—his brave, amazing foolish Wynona—apparentl
y thought that was her moment to act. She surged forward, likely intending to disarm him with one of her tough-girl Krav Maga moves, but the detective’s instincts had been honed as tautly as theirs. He reacted just as quickly and fired before she could reach him.

  Her head flew back and Cade saw blood spatter and it was like her father, just like her father, only a billion times worse as his world imploded.

  The little girl screamed, high and loud. Though he was sure he was howling inside too, somehow his own instincts kicked in and Cade fired on the man. He wanted to keep firing and firing, to blast him into nothing, but he charged him instead, kicking the weapon away as he dragged him from the sofa, shoved him to the ground and handcuffed him with the detective yelling and cursing in pain and the girl screaming on and on.

  With the threat neutralized two seconds too late, Cade raced to Wyn, whipping out his cell phone to call in the backup while he crouched beside her. She was deathly pale, still, bleeding copiously from her head, but she was breathing.

  He bit out the ten-code for officer-involved shooting. “I need an ambulance and all available units. Call Sheriff Bailey immediately. It’s his sister. Wyn, baby, wake up, come on. Come on.”

  Andie, he saw, had grabbed her daughter and held her tightly.

  “Honey, I need you to go to Will’s bedroom,” she said. “We’re safe now, I promise but I need you to go to your room and shut the door and stay there until I come to get you.”

  “Is Officer Bailey going to die like Daddy?”

  No. No. No! He wouldn’t let her!

  “Come on, Wyn. I love you. You can’t die. Don’t leave me. Come on.”

  He felt ripped apart, his insides jagged and raw. He didn’t know what he said, he only begged her not to leave him as he applied pressure to the wound at her temple and prayed harder than he ever had in his life.

  * * *

  WYNONA AWOKE GRADUALLY, feeling as if the world around her was caught in some slow-motion video feed. At the perimeter of her vision, she caught blurred movement, distant voices, someone crying.

  She was lying on a hard floor and someone was kneeling beside her, begging her to come back.

  I’m right here, she wanted to say but her throat wouldn’t cooperate.

  As consciousness gradually returned, vague impressions filtered through the haze. Shock, pain, fury. What happened? Why was she here? Why did her head hurt so badly?

  Memory returned an instant later. Andie with a black eye. Cade, standing shoulder to shoulder with her, weapons drawn. That moment of distraction when Robert Warren had turned away and she stupidly thought she could disarm him.

  Seriously? That ass-hat really shot her?

  He must have. She felt as if somebody had jabbed a white-hot marshmallow roasting fork into her skull and was twisting it around and around.

  “Please don’t die, Wyn. You can’t leave me. Please, baby. Don’t die. I love you. I love you.”

  The light jabbed painfully at her eyes but she managed to prop one open enough to see that the voice belonged to her big, tough, wonderful police chief. Cade looked...shattered. His eyes were haunted, devastated, his hands covered in blood.

  As she became more aware of her surroundings, Wyn heard a woman speaking. Andie. It must be. “What can I do?” Andie asked.

  Cade’s voice sounded ragged. “Make sure the door’s unlocked for the first responders. My officers should be here any second. And I called her brother.”

  Marshall? He called Marshall? Crap. She would never hear the end of this.

  The barn fire was bad enough. Her mom was really going to freak about her being shot. At least she might be a little more receptive when Wyn told her she was leaving police work and going back to school.

  Harsh curses and moans were coming from the corner, out of her visual range.

  “What about me?” she heard a man cry out. “I’m dying here. I need bandages or something before I bleed out. Did you hear me? Is anybody listening? I need medical attention right now!”

  “Oh, shut the hell up,” Andie snapped.

  Wyn blinked at the ferocity in her friend’s voice. Even though her head hurt like a son of a mother trucker, she wanted to clap. She lost that instinct when she realized Cade was still beside her and the pressure on her hand was his fingers squeezing her tightly, as if he could hold her in place by sheer will.

  “Wyn, baby, wake up. Please. I need you here. I love you. Don’t leave me.”

  Even though she wanted to lie there all night and listen to his impassioned words, she loved him too much to let him suffer.

  “I’m not dying,” she croaked out.

  He let out a long, slow breath and she opened her eyes just in time to see him close his and whisper what appeared to be a prayer of gratitude.

  He brought her hand to his mouth and the tenderness there just about made her pass out again.

  “Did Warren really shoot me?” she mumbled.

  “I think maybe the shot went wild and he just grazed you. I can’t seem to find an entry wound but you’re bleeding like crazy.”

  “It hurts,” she complained.

  “I’m sure it does. I’m sorry. So sorry.”

  Already, though, the pain was beginning to fade.

  Cade loved her.

  The words were the best analgesic she could imagine.

  He loved her. Nothing else seemed to matter.

  “EMTs are on the way. They should be here any minute. Just hang on.”

  “Okay.” Shock was beginning to set in. She knew that was the reason the searing pain had started to recede. She would pay the price for the burst of adrenaline that was carrying her right now but she decided to ride it through anyway.

  “Cade Emmett. You used the L word. I heard it.”

  He gave a rough laugh and she managed to prop both eyes open enough to see the tender smile on his face and the naked relief he didn’t bother to hide. “Yeah. You’re right. I did.”

  “Several times.”

  “Not enough,” he said gruffly. “It can never be enough. I realized when I saw you go down that nothing else matters. Not the job, not your family. Nothing. I love you. I’ll go work somewhere else if I have to. Maybe once your brother is done being pissed at me, he can hire me on as a deputy at the jail. I’ll work as a traffic cop if I have to, as long as we can be together.”

  His arms were around her and she felt safe and warm and cherished, despite the pain that was making her giddy.

  “You don’t have to give up the job you love, remember? I’m leaving. Six weeks from now, I’ll be back in graduate school.”

  “Then I’ll come to work in Boise.”

  They could work all this out, but it wasn’t necessary for him to leave his job. She was only going to be in school for eight months and her classes were only an hour and a half away. The idea of a long-distance relationship wasn’t at all appealing but they could survive a short separation.

  She’d apparently survived a gunshot wound, hadn’t she?

  Oh, she loved him, this tough man who needed more lightness and joy in his life. She murmured the words to him again and his arms tightened.

  “I don’t understand how, but I’m not stupid enough to argue,” he said, his voice low. “I love you. You told me earlier today you wanted to be important to me, not to the department. I couldn’t say it then, but I am now. You are everything to me, Wynona Bailey.”

  She squeezed his fingers. “You better not be lying. I hear my brother’s on the way and he has a bigger gun than you.”

  He laughed roughly. “Oh, I doubt that.”

  “Kiss me. Right now.”

  “You just got shot in the head, Wyn. You’re delirious.”

  “I don’t care. Kiss me. Please?”

  He willingly lowered his
head and barely pressed his mouth to hers. The gentle tenderness made her throat ache almost as much as her head.

  She heard others coming in, brisk official voices, but still Cade didn’t release her.

  He loved her.

  If she had any doubt, that kiss here, now—when his officers and the EMTs and her brother, of all people, were beginning to crowd into Andrea’s small living room—would have removed the last of it.

  He loved her and he needed her. She didn’t question it.

  This was the path her life was intended to take—the twisting, turning road that led her here, to this man she had loved forever and a future that promised more than she could ever imagine.

  EPILOGUE

  “ARE YOU SURE nobody can see anything?” Wyn pressed, turning her head back and forth in the mirror over her bedroom dresser.

  She had never considered herself particularly vain but she had spent more time in the last three weeks feeling self-conscious than at any other point in her life—and that included the year she was thirteen, when she suddenly went up three bra sizes in a matter of months.

  A big white bandage on a girl’s head tended to stand out even more than a C cup.

  “I promise, honey.” Charlene fussed around her with a curling iron and comb in a cloud of hair spray. “If I didn’t know you had eight stitches there, I would never be able to tell. The jeweled clip completely hides it.”

  “Whew. That’s a relief. McKenzie will be very happy about that.”

  “She won’t care a bit,” Charlene assured her. “Though why you had to go and get shot three weeks before you knew you were going to be a bridesmaid for her and Ben, I’m sure I don’t know.”

  A few weeks ago, Wyn would have rolled her eyes at that sort of comment from her mother. These days, the world was too bright and beautiful and full of promise for her to do anything but smile.

  “It was quite thoughtless of me, wasn’t it?” she agreed.

  Charlene huffed. “Yes. And reckless and foolhardy too. You’re so much like your father and brothers.”

  “I’m a Bailey, through and through.”