Expecting the Best (Harlequin Superromance)

by Lynnette Kent

  “I’ll finish the pot roast.”

  “Good idea. We’ll all eat when Carol and I come in.”

  He stepped out into the cold, pulling on his gloves.

  HIS JOB REQUIRED him to stay calm under the worst circumstances. But Zach had started to worry seriously by the time he’d walked around the third side of the high-school campus without a sign of Carol or her friends. He didn’t like the feel of the situation. A teenage girl simply didn’t stay off the phone, except in matters of life or death. Without even talking to his sister, he’d known she was in trouble. He shouldn’t have put off their talk to play ball with Jimmy…

  “Zach!” Carol’s cry echoed off the school wall.

  He looked up and saw her running—no, make that limping—toward him. They met at the corner, both of them on their knees in the frosty grass.

  Zach turned her face to the streetlight and stared at the purple bruises over her skin. “Damn, Carol. What’d she do to you?”

  “We had a fight.” She grinned proudly. “Jen looks worse, believe me.”

  “Yeah?” He thumbed a smear of blood off her cheek.

  “What’s wrong with your leg?”

  “She tried to break my knee. Twisted it pretty hard. My hands hurt worse.”

  She’d left her gloves somewhere. Her bare knuckles were scraped raw, her palms bruised. “I’d say they do. Didn’t anybody ever tell you that violence doesn’t settle things?”

  “Sure. I didn’t go over there to fight. I planned just to tell them to get lost, then get out. But Jen jumped on me first, and I had to defend myself, right?”

  “I guess so. Nobody else interfered?”

  “Faith’s parents weren’t home. And I think the rest of CW is as tired of her as I am.”

  “So what turned the tide? How’d you win?”

  Carol struggled to stand up. “This big brother of mine, he made me spend a perfectly good Sunday afternoon one week learning self-defense moves.”

  Grinning, Zach got to his feet. “What a jerk.”

  “Yeah. He showed me some holds and some releases and some moves that just might make somebody think twice about holding on.”

  “And?” They turned to walk toward the house.

  “And I used them. All of them. Twice. Until, finally, I remembered the first thing he taught me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A stomp across the arch. Jen was fighting barefoot. I left my boots on.” Carol stopped and crossed her bad leg over the other knee to show him the three-inch heels. “I never heard anybody scream so loud. I might have broken her foot. She quit trying a minute after that.”

  Zach patted her back. “Well, I guess you did what you had to do. But your mother is going to faint when she sees that black eye.”

  “Black eye? Do I really have one?” She grabbed his hand and started running. “C’mon! I want to see!”

  Zach ran after her, feeling lighter and stronger than he had just an hour ago. His little sister was back. Now he could concentrate on the other woman in his life.

  That would be his wife.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  ON THEIR TWO-WEEK anniversary, after no contact with her new husband at all, Shelley gave up…or, maybe, gave in. She needed Zach—his advice, his ideas, his jokes. His lovemaking.

  Before she could argue herself out of the idea, she picked up the phone and dialed his number. After two rings, the machine answered. “Sorry I missed you. Leave your message at the tone.”

  Not likely. The only thing worse than not hearing from him would be leaving a message he didn’t return.

  She tried again the next day, Sunday. Monday night. Early Tuesday morning, with no luck. Was he screening his calls? Had he left town?

  After another long, silent night and a miserable drive into work Wednesday morning, she felt desperate enough to call Zach’s station. “Is Officer Zach Harmon available?” Her voice trembled, but she got the words out.

  “Just a minute.” The phone buzzed on hold, and she had the dubious pleasure of waiting, sick to her stomach with the anticipation that Zach would pick up the phone.

  She got a warning click and took a deep breath. Then, “Lieutenant Daley here. Can I help you?”

  Shelley couldn’t answer. She didn’t even understand for a few seconds that this was not Zach.

  The same strange voice said, “Hello? Anybody there?”

  Reality clicked into place. “I was—I was holding for Zach Harmon.”

  “Sergeant Harmon is on leave. Did you need to make a report?”

  “N-No.” On leave? Where? How long? All questions she couldn’t ask. “Do you know when Sergeant Harmon will get back?”

  “Sorry, I can’t say.”

  “Is there somewhere I can reach him?”

  “Who are you?”

  “Shelley…um, Shelley Hightower. A friend.” Loosely defined, however you looked at it.

  “I suggest you call his family, Ms. Hightower. They’ll be able to help you.”

  His evasion suddenly struck her as ominous. She squeezed her eyes shut. “Is something wrong? Can you tell me what happened?”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t give you any more details than were in today’s paper, ma’am. Have a good—”

  “Wait!” Shelley pulled her wits together. “I haven’t seen the paper yet. I’ve been trying to reach Zach for days. Couldn’t you please help me?”

  The lieutenant cleared his throat. “He went out yesterday with a team and a warrant to pick up a problem dog in one of his neighborhoods. The owner barricaded himself and the dog in the house. Then he started shooting. Zach and a couple of other men were hit.”

  Shelley pressed her fingers against her mouth and waited for the room to stop spinning. “Is he—is he okay?”

  But whatever momentary kindness prompted the lieutenant to share the story had worn off. “I really can’t tell you any more than that, ma’am.”

  “Is he still alive?” The baby kicked once, and was still. Her terror must have flooded every cell in both their bodies.

  The man on the phone sighed. “Last I heard. Who did you say this is?”

  Shelley hung up without answering and sat for endless moments, just letting the world reshape itself around the knowledge that Zach was hurt. Seriously—why else would the police refuse to talk? Had she lost him forever? Had she gone from make-believe wife to counterfeit widow? Without a chance to make amends?

  She punched the intercom button. “Mindy, do we have today’s paper?”

  “Right here.”

  “Could you bring it in to me, please?”

  The story shared the front page with politics and a Middle East war. The headline read, Dog Fight Wounds Police. Details were few, except that the man inside the house had killed himself and the dog before the police stopped him. The injured policemen were not named. But—thank God!—the hospital they’d been taken to was.

  She grabbed her car keys and purse. “Cancel the rest of my day,” she told Mindy as she rushed by the reception table. “The rest of the week. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

  Mindy started around the desk. “What’s wrong? Where—”

  Shelley left the office without replying, and drove with barely a third of her mind on traffic. The paper was hours behind. Zach could have died early this morning.

  No. She tightened her hands on the wheel. That would not happen. She would get the chance to apologize. Zach would hold his baby, know and—she hoped—love his child. Even if he didn’t want to see its mom again, he would be the dad he intended to be.

  All the hospital parking lots had filled up hours ago. She ended up at a meter on a side street, stuffing coins into the slot with numb fingers. The wind ripped through her, and she realized she’d forgotten her coat. A three-block walk in the freezing rain lay ahead.

  She got strange looks as she finally stepped into the hospital lobby. The woman at the information desk stared at her in dismay. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. Ye
s.” Shelley pushed back her damp, cold hair. “How can I find out what room somebody is in?”

  “What service are they on?”

  “I don’t know.” She fought down her hysteria.

  “He’s one of the policemen who was hurt yesterday.”

  “Ah. Surgery, probably.” She consulted a list.

  “One’s in SICU—the intensive care unit. The other two are in the general ward.”

  “Zach Harmon. That’s his name. Where is he?”

  “General ward. Room 1438.”

  “Thanks.” That meant he was okay, didn’t it? Though still beating fast, her heart dropped back to its normal place in her chest. Shelley turned toward the elevator.

  But the woman caught her hand. “Why don’t you sit down first, have something warm to drink? You look half-frozen.”

  And wait another minute to see him? “No, no, thank you. I really need—”

  “Now, honey, I’m going on my break.” The woman stood up and came out from behind the desk to put her arm around Shelley’s shoulders. “I’ll walk you down to the cafeteria myself. You have to take care of you and that baby.”

  “No!” She pulled herself out of the woman’s hold and backed away. “No, really. I’m sorry, and you’re very nice, but I have to see him. Now.” A door opened behind her, people streamed around her, and then she stepped backward and let the doors close her in.

  “What floor?” someone asked.

  “Fourteen.” She combed her fingers through her hair again, then clasped her hands to keep them from shaking. She probably did look demented.

  Two people had to step out of the elevator at the fourteenth floor because she was too big to squeeze past them. The doors closed as she stared at the directional signs on the wall. Frustration and anxiety settled into her stomach, making her sick. Why didn’t the map make sense?

  Once she understood them, the arrows sent her down another long hallway, around three corners and through a set of doors. As she approached the central desk, Shelley didn’t know how much more delay she could handle without screaming.

  A nurse looked up. “Yes?”

  “Do you have Zach Harmon on this ward?”

  “Yes.” The nurse stared expectantly.

  Shelley tightened her hands against each other. “Is he…going to be all right?”

  “And you are…?”

  “I’m his wife.” She put a hand on her stomach. “And this is his child. Now will you please tell me what’s going on?”

  The nurse stood up. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Harmon. We didn’t know—weren’t expecting—”

  On a deep breath, Shelley recovered her control. “Could I see him?”

  “Certainly.” The nurse led her down the hallway to the left. Five rooms along, she stopped and gestured. Holding herself together with her clenched fists and nothing else, Shelley stepped closer to the partially open door. From the sounds inside, a midmorning cocktail party was in full swing.

  She pushed the door farther in and stared at the crowd of people, all of them talking at the same time. If there was a hospital bed in their midst, she couldn’t see it.

  Then one of the women turned. “Shelley!” Carol shoved her way through the mob. “How are you? Did you hear about Zach?”

  “Yes…I did.” The crowd parted as Carol drew her forward. Shelley’s throat tightened as the end of a bed came into sight. She registered blanket-draped feet and knees. And then hands, Zach’s hands, lying crossed at his waist with tubes taped to the backs.

  All the noise faded as she let her gaze rise higher, past his bandaged chest. His blue eyes, heavy-lidded yet wide with surprise, were not really focused. His face, thinner than she remembered, showed lines at the corners of his mouth and between his eyebrows.

  She could barely hear his rough, faint voice. “Shelley?”

  Stepping closer, she rested the tips of her fingers on the bed. Otherwise, she might just fall down. “Hi.”

  On Zach’s other side, someone got out of a chair. “Hello again, Mrs. Hightower.”

  “How are you, Mrs. Harmon?” Shelley managed a smile. “Looks like your son has gotten himself into some trouble, here.” Tears gathered at the back of her eyes. She only hoped she could keep them there.

  “Not the first time he’s been hurt on the job. But we could have lost him on this one. The bullet went underneath his arm where the vest didn’t cover. We’re lucky nothing vital was hit.”

  “Very lucky.” She made herself look back into Zach’s face. “How long will you be here?”

  His mother answered. “The doctors say he can leave at the end of the week. And we were just deciding how to manage his care. My house has no bedroom on the main floor, which would make it hard for him, but—”

  “Mine does.” A taller version of Zach, with hazel eyes, spoke up. “I think that’s the best solution—he can come to our house to stay and we’ll take care of him.”

  “I don’t think so, Grant,” Zach said in a voice so quiet Shelley didn’t think anyone else heard.

  “We’ve got a guest room.” A woman who looked just like Zach’s mother spoke up. “On the main floor.”

  A big man shook his head. “And twins you spend a full day taking care of, Marian, plus a baby on the way.”

  “I’ll just go to my place,” Zach put in quietly.

  The arguments escalated. His family—Shelley had gathered that much, though she couldn’t put a name to most faces—stood round his bed debating who would take him home. She glanced at Zach, saw that his eyes had closed. He looked even more exhausted, more drawn, than when she’d come in a few minutes ago.

  She raised her hand. “Excuse me?” The noise level climbed. “Excuse me?” No effect. As a last resort, she put two fingers in her mouth and blew a single sharp blast.

  Silence reigned. Zach opened his eyes. Shelley took one long look at him, and then turned to the rest. “You’re all very caring, and I know Zach appreciates your concern.”

  A little murmuring, a little shuffling, a couple of smiles.

  “But you’re driving him crazy.”

  A collective gasp.

  She held her ground. “I think he should go home to his own house.”

  Mrs. Harmon stood up again. “But who will take care of him?”

  Shelley swallowed hard. “I will.”

  More murmuring. Zach’s mother smiled. “That’s nice of you, Mrs. Hightower. But Zachary has his family. Besides, you’re expecting. And what would your husband say?”

  Good question. Shelley thought about handing the platform to Zach, letting him make the announcement and take the reaction. But even if he were well, that would be unfair.

  And so she looked straight into his mother’s face. “Zach is my husband,” she said very distinctly. “We were married three weekends ago in Las Vegas.”

  CAROL HEARD the words…but they didn’t make sense. Zach, married? To Shelley? And he hadn’t bothered to tell his family?

  Grant echoed her thoughts. “You didn’t think we might want to know beforehand?”

  Zach looked him in the eye. “I had my reasons for doing it this way.”

  What? What reason could there be for keeping them all in the dark? Wasn’t family supposed to know about stuff like this?

  Their mom looked across Zach to Shelley. “But what about Mr. Hightower?”

  “I’m sorry—I thought you knew.” Shelley’s voice was a little shaky. “I was divorced from him six years ago.”

  But…Carol remembered asking about her husband the day they went shopping. Had Shelley said something she missed?

  Mom wasn’t finished. “And yet you are carrying his child?”

  “No,” Zach said. “The baby is mine.”

  Carol closed her eyes, then opened them quickly to avoid the scene she could see in her mind. Zach and Shelley had…done it. Without being married. And there was a baby.

  So much for the damn rules!

  The pain inside her exploded. “That’s it?” Hands on her h
ips, she glared at Zach. And his wife. “That’s all you’re going to say? We’re just supposed to take this like nothing happened?”

  Shelley put a hand on her arm. “Carol—”

  Carol shook her off without looking. “I’m not talking to you.”

  “That’s enough—” Zach’s warning was clear.

  “Yeah, because she’s such great stuff, right? Gee, you really had us going, didn’t you? Miss Executive, Miss Does-It-For-Herself.” She blinked back tears. “And yet she can’t even tell the simple truth.”

  Zach sat up. “This is none of your business, Carol.”

  “You made that real clear, big brother. Your life is your concern. Well, guess what? My life is my concern, too. And I’m telling you right now—butt out. Leave me alone. I’m not interested in anything you have to say.”

  She reached the door before anybody stopped her and flung it open so hard it hit the wall. “Have a nice life, the three of you.”

  In the quiet hallway, the click of her boot heels echoed like a drumroll. Nobody came after her, but she wasn’t surprised. Every man and woman for themselves, right?

  So why cry about any of them? Carol didn’t know. But her tears started on the elevator. They didn’t stop for a long, long time.

  ZACH GAVE IN TO the pain in his chest and dropped back against his pillow. “Don’t let Carol leave alone,” he managed.

  “I’ll go after her.” His next-to-youngest sister, Elena, slipped out.

  His mother stood up. “This is…a surprise. It’ll take time for us to adjust.”

  She walked around the bed to Shelley, put her hands on the slim shoulders and bestowed a light kiss. “Welcome to the family.” Looking older and wearier than when she’d arrived, she left the room. The rest of the crowd filed out after her, with similar bewildered farewells.

  Shelley walked to the window and Zach took the chance offered by her silence to study his wife. Windblown hair, red cheeks and a smear of mascara under each eye—not Shelley’s usual style. She wore a black sweater with a bright red scarf, but the silk drooped in a way he didn’t think she’d planned. Her hand was almost blue against the white curtain she pulled back. She’d put her purse and keys down by his feet. Something important was missing.