“It’s no problem,” she said. “They’re beautiful.”
“If I might say, without offending you, they’re not the only beautiful thing gracing my world this very morning. You, my dear, are glowing. I hear there’s a certain young bartender responsible.”
“We’re engaged,” she said and showed him her ring.
“He’s a lucky man. Hugh Shaw didn’t raise no fool. I hear there’s a little miss at your house these days too.”
“Jubie. Zane and I are adopting her.” She explained about Jubie’s mother passing and her connection to Lavonne.
“Kindness spreads that way,” Clayton said. “You’re going to be a great mother.”
“I hope so. I never really had one, so I’m nervous.”
“You’ll figure it out along the way like the rest of us.”
“I’m headed home and then off to take Jubie to the beach. Can’t waste a day of this weather.”
“Yes, indeed.”
Honor hoisted her grocery bag against one hip and held the flowers with the other arm. When she reached her car, she set down the bag on the sidewalk and pressed the button to open her trunk. The bodyguard was near the birch tree, alert for danger.
The sound of a revving engine caused her to turn. A black car sped down the main street of town. Honor instantly recognized the driver’s face. Stanley Gorham. The car lurched to a stop in the middle of the street.
He’s come for me.
There would be no more tomorrow, no wedding, no taking Jubie to her first day of school. Too late to save myself. Like a cat, I only have so many lives. How absurd she’d been to think that the past was the past and could no longer hurt her. What a cruel joke. All the ways she’d tried to insulate herself from harm were nothing compared to the hatred of the man she’d put away.
Gorham’s car door flew open and with surprising swiftness, he leapt from the car and pointed a pistol at her.
She stepped backward with her arms in front of her, roses still intact in their brown package. The shot rang out in the quiet street. Zane, I’m sorry. She saw his face in her mind the second before the bullet tore through her.
A surge of pain. Blackness.
Chapter Nineteen
Zane
* * *
ZANE WAS INSIDE THE OAR talking with Sophie when he heard the gunshot.
“Get behind the bar,” he shouted to Jubie and Sophie.
He ran to the door and immediately saw Honor’s red car parked in front of the store. Oh no. No, no, no. Orange roses were scattered on the sidewalk. A body had fallen. Only the feet of the fallen were visible from this angle. It was Honor. He knew her sandals. You can tell a lot by looking at a person’s shoes.
Zane yelled to Sophie to dial 911 but they were hidden behind the bar. He couldn’t be sure if she’d heard him or not. No time to waste. He raced out of the restaurant. Honor, I’m coming. Hang on. Please God.
Another gunshot rang out in the perfect summer morning. The shooter fell to the ground. Zane quickly located the origin of the bullet. The bodyguard stood under the birch tree with his gun still raised. Zane staggered into the middle of the street. Women and children screamed. The shot had been a direct hit to the shooter’s head. Bits of brain, flesh, and blood showered the car. The scent of gunpowder crept inside Zane’s nostrils.
Cars had stopped and their drivers and passengers spilled out onto the street. People shouted as he weaved through the impediments toward Honor. He couldn’t stop. He had to get to her.
People surrounded her. He pushed them aside. “Let me through.”
She lay on the ground near the bins of flowers. Blood gushed from a wound in her chest and pooled around her body. An orange rose lay broken near her left hand. Shards of glass from a wine bottle were scattered on the sidewalk. The scent of chardonnay mixed with the minerally smell of fresh blood. Clear, delicate glass as sharp as knives scattered around her head. A fancy mineral water. She wouldn’t have been able to resist the pretty bottle.
He sank to the ground and gathered her onto his lap. She was light in his arms, even with her limp body. Too light, too small, too innocent. Sticky blood soaked through his shorts and covered his hands. With gentle fingers, he felt for a pulse at her neck. Faint, but there. Hang in there, baby. You’re tough.
A piece of glass with a sharp point was stuck into her shoulder. Leave it there. If he pulled it out, she might bleed more. Blood covered her dress and just kept coming.
She would hate that everyone saw her like this. He wanted to cover her body with his, to keep the cruel world from seeing her vulnerable and at the mercy of God.
It was Gorham who had done this. It had to be.
He looked over to the black car. No movement. Gorham was dead.
Clayton knelt beside Zane. “She’s going to be fine,” Zane said.
“Yes, yes. The ambulance is coming.”
Sirens penetrated the shocked silence of the crowd that gathered around. “They’re coming, baby,” he whispered. “Stay strong.”
She did not stir. Please God. I’ll do anything. Give up anything. Please save her.
A police car lurched to a stop. Two armed officers with guns raised jumped out of the car.
Jackson appeared beside Zane, breathless. He fell to his knees and pressed his fingers against the inside of her wrist. “There’s a pulse. Honor, sweetheart, you have to stay strong.”
The ambulance screeched to a halt near the black car. Jackson ran to meet them, shouting to come to Honor first. Paramedics pulled a stretcher out of the back of the vehicle and rushed toward them.
“We got her, dude. Move aside,” one of them said to Zane. Like he was a child.
“No. I have to stay with her. She’s hurt,” Zane said.
“Zane, look at me,” Jackson said. “They need to get her on the stretcher.”
Zane nodded and allowed himself to be separated from her. The men lifted her carefully onto the stretcher. Her limbs were loose, like a ragdoll.
His legs like gelatin, Zane stumbled over to the birch tree and vomited. Children cried and clung to their mothers’ legs. Behind them, the paramedics lifted Honor into the ambulance. “I have to go with her,” he said to Jackson.
He sprinted to the back of the ambulance. “Please, can I come? I’m her fiancé.”
“They’ve got to airlift her out of here,” Jackson said.
“A helicopter is landing in the meadow outside of town,” one of the paramedics said. “We’ll get her to the trauma unit at Mercy. Meet us there.”
Airlifted. On a helicopter. That was right. The faster the better. Jackson had him by the arm now and pulled him away from the ambulance.
“Get in my car,” Jackson said. “I’ll drive us.”
“Jubie. What about Jubie?”
“Sophie’s got her inside the restaurant. She kept Jubie from seeing anything,” Jackson said.
How did he know? Zane followed his friend, unable to speak or reason through what to do next. Jackson would know what to do. He repeated this over and over in his head until they were headed out of town.
Chapter Twenty
Honor
* * *
HONOR DREAMED OF THE DAY she arrived at the Gorhams’ house. It looks like a movie. That had been her first thought as they drove up to the iron gates and drove down a long, paved driveway lined with peach trees. White pillars and a long porch made her gasp as she peered through the back window. Hot in her new dress, a droplet of sweat trickled down Honor’s lower back. Thirsty too. They’d rushed her that morning after the call had come that she had a new family. A doctor, the lady at the agency told her. You’re going to be spoiled rotten.
In the front seat of the white car that was low and wide, Mrs. Gorham wore a dress with large yellow polka dots. She was skinny, like bones in a dress. Honor already knew. She was mean. Her dark eyes told the story Honor already knew. There was a reason this woman wanted a foster child and a soft heart wasn’t it. Doctor Gorham wore a suit, like they
were going to a fancy party or a wedding. He was as fat as his wife was thin, like a sausage in a suit with white, smooth hands. The other foster father had had rough, calloused hands. A plastic surgeon, he’d told her as they drove away from the government building, like she should be impressed, even though she didn’t really know what that meant.
The car smelled of new leather. When they stopped, she slid a little on the sleek tan seats. A wooden swing hung from a grandfather sized oak that dripped with moss. It was like that in the country. Moss and big trees and the smell of honeysuckle.
She heard her name. Someone wanted her to wake up. She tried to open her eyes, but they were glued shut.
“Honor, baby, it’s me. You’re going to be fine. Just keep fighting.”
Zane. The groceries. What had happened to her groceries? She was supposed to meet him back at her house. They were taking Jubie to the beach. Something had happened.
Gorham. The gun.
She tried to speak. Nothing came out but a moan.
“Nurse. I think she might be waking up,” Zane said.
Why did his voice sound so far away?
She fell back into a dream. This time it was of her mother and a birthday cake with three candles on it. “This year’s going to be different. I promise.” Her momma. She was so pretty in her yellow dress and her eyes were clear and her face pink and plump. She was well. No more hollow cheeks or pocked skin. “Blow out the candles, sweetie.”
Honor tried and tried to blow but they would not go out. “I hurt, Momma. I have no breath left. I’m so tired.”
“You have to fight.” The flames on the birthday cake flickered. Her mother’s brown eyes shone in the light. “It’s not time yet, baby. You still have things to do. There are people who need you.”
“Where did you go?” Honor whispered.
“I’m sorry.” Momma’s brown eyes swam with tears. “I was sick. I tried, but I couldn’t get better.”
“I had to live with bad people,” Honor said.
“I know. But now you’re with good people. They want you back.”
Blackness replaced the flames of the birthday candles. She drifted.
Later, Zane’s voice penetrated the thickness in her head. “I’m back again. I had to go home and shower and get some clothes. I was starting to smell.”
She wanted so badly to open her eyes. Zane was here. The pain suffocated her. A fog kept her from the world.
Was he squeezing her hand?
“It’s me. Can you open your eyes for me?”
She could. Yes, she could. They were crusted and sticky, but she could open them. She would open them. But no. The glue was still there.
“The docs say you’re going to be fine.”
Like what?
She struggled to wake up, to talk. I have things to tell you too. I have a secret. It might be too much for you.
He knew her secrets already. All of them. He loved her anyway. She just needed to get back to him.
Pain surged, red this time, and crushed her in its grip.
“Nurse, she’s moaning. She’s hurting,” Zane said. His voice sounded strangled and raw, like he’d been screaming.
“I’ll increase the pain meds.”
Pain meds. They’d given her those before. When the pain was bad.
The pain ceased. She faded into shades of pink.
“Honor, it’s me, Kara. I brought you some of those salted caramels you like. I would’ve brought that stinky cheese from the market, but I figured it would make the room smell bad and get you in trouble. I wish I could get you in trouble. Obviously, you can’t eat the candy right this minute, but when you wake up you can have a piece or two. And when you get out of here we’ll go to Napa like we said we were going to for a girls’ trip. You and me and Maggie and Violet. Just like we talked about.”
Later, Kara’s voice penetrated the darkness. “I never told you about my friend, Jessica.” Kara squeezed her hand. “She was my best friend back home. I had to leave her when I came out here and then she was killed. It still hurts so much. I can’t lose you. Brody won’t be able to function without you. He’s a mess right now, so you have to get better. We all love you so much.”
Honor floated.
Music made its way into her brain. A guitar chord and then Maggie’s sweet voice singing. She drifted. Next, someone combed her hair.
“I know you’ll want to look pretty for Zane.” Maggie’s voice. “He’s been here almost every minute since they brought you here. We got him to go to his hotel room and sleep a little tonight. But only because I told him I’d stay with you. I’ve never seen him like this. You know how he always acts like he’s got everything under control? Well, he’s not acting like that now.”
Silence for a few moments as Maggie stroked her hair. “They’re giving you this stuff to make you sleep because the doctor said it’s the best way for you to heal. But it’s scaring all of us. We just want you to wake up. No one ever tells people stuff when they should. I guess we always think there will be another day to do so. Jackson and I learned that the hard way. When you get better I’m going to tell you how much I admire you and love you—how much it meant to me that you embraced me when I came back to Cliffside Bay. You have to get better, so you can come with me to my dress fitting and meet Pepper and Lisa.” Maggie’s voice quivered. “You have to get better in time for the wedding.”
Honor drifted away, floating on a cloud.
Brody. She smelled Brody with his spicy cologne and a faint hint of coffee. He loved his coffee in the mornings with Kara.
“Coaches have us doing special team practices in the afternoons. Kara had to go home today because Jackson needs her at the clinic. Flora called this morning from Oregon. They’re in the process of selling Dax’s property, but she told me she’s been praying for you.”
Brody. She tried to say his name. I’m going to be fine. I’ll be back to kick your butt soon enough.
“We have another preseason game tomorrow,” Brody said. “This’ll be the only time since you started working with me that you won’t be there. Kara won’t either, you know, because of the thing. Don’t tell her, but I’m sad that I can’t show her off to the world like I want to. I know, that makes me sound like a pig, but you already know everything about me, so it’s not like it’s a surprise.”
You’re a great man, Brody Mullen. One of the greatest.
But she could not speak. She could only drift in this state of unrest.
“I was thinking. After the season’s over and we get Maggie and Jackson married, we should go on a trip. Someplace tropical. I’ll rent a big house and we can all be there like one big family.”
My family. I have a family now. Thanks to Hugh Shaw.
“Zane’s taking this rough. You’ve got to pull through and get back to bossing us all around. You hear me, Honor Sullivan? You can’t let this madman take you from us.”
Honor opened her eyes to see Zane standing over her. His eyes, his beautiful eyes seemed to smile down at her.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey yourself.” She tried to smile, but her mouth was too dry. Her lips stuck to her teeth. “Where am I?”
“Mercy Hospital. In San Francisco.”
“Gorham shot me,” she whispered. The memory of the moment before the bullet reached her played before her eyes.
“He’s dead. He can’t hurt you again.” He perched on the side of her bed and took her hand in his.
“I saw him. I saw his face when he was coming for me.” Salty tears stung her eyes.
“The guard shot him,” Zane said.
“Oh, God. There were kids all over the place.” She was all the way awake now. Sobs rose from her chest. “Jubie. Was she there?”
“No, baby. It’s fine.”
“Is she all right? What does she know?
“She knows you’re in the hospital, recovering.”
“How long have I been in here?”
“A few days. An eternity.” Zane knelt lo
wer and kissed her hand. She caught a whiff of his hair and cologne. The smell of Zane. She stared up at him as tears leaked from his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said.
“Then why are you crying?”
“Because I’m so damn happy to have you back. I prayed harder than I’ve ever prayed in my life these past few days.”
He looked tired and drawn with bags under his bloodshot eyes and an unshaven face.
“Have you been here the whole time?” she asked.
“Yes. I have a hotel room across the street to shower and stuff. I wasn’t sure how long we’d have to be here.”
“I heard you talking sometimes, but I couldn’t seem to open my eyes. What happened exactly?”
“The bullet lodged in your chest. The surgeons said it missed your heart by millimeters. You’re healing from the wound and the surgery.”
“I thought I was going to die.”
“No way. You’re way too tough for a little bullet.”
“You’re lying.”
“It was a little sketchy, but they got you all fixed up. They’ve had you heavily drugged for the pain. That’s why you’ve been asleep. Jackson agreed with the doctors that it was the best way for you to heal.”
She reached with her other hand to the bandage over her chest. “Will I have a scar?”
“A small one. Brody made sure you got the best plastic surgeon in town.”
“Boobies intact?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She smiled and winced from pain. “It hurts.”
“They’ll give you more pain medicine any time you want. I made sure of that.” His voice was so gentle she thought she might start to cry again.
“I’m cold.”
He pulled another blanket from the bottom of the bed and placed it over her. “Is that better?”
She brought her hand to her face. “I must look awful.”
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