by Debbie Mason
“I’m not going anywhere until I’ve examined you, and then you’re going to tell me why you won’t go to the hospital.”
“If I went to the hospital, I’d have to arrest the person—persons—who shot me, and it was an accident.”
While he was talking, she looked him over. From what she could see, he’d been shot on the left-hand side just below his bulletproof vest. “All right, let’s get your jacket and vest off you for starters.”
“I give up. You’re obviously not going anywhere until you get your way.” He went to shrug off his jacket.
“You’re an extremely stubborn man, Gabriel Buchanan,” she said at his grimace.
He snorted. “I could say the same thing about you, Mallory Maitland.”
She rolled her eyes and reached up to help him. “Let me do it. You’ve already lost enough blood. You’ll have to take this to a dry cleaner.” She laid the jacket across the bench against the wall, then went to help him out of the vest but first his gun and holster had to be removed. “You didn’t shoot anyone tonight, did you?” she asked, letting him remove the gun and holster himself.
“No, but I was severely tempted to.”
“Have you ever shot anyone before?”
“I was a big-city cop, Mallory. What do you think?”
“Have you been shot before?”
“I’ve been shot at a few times. This is the first time I’ve been hit. I’ve lost my edge working here.”
“You’d rather be in New York, wouldn’t you?”
“If it was just me to think about, yeah, I’d be back in New York in a heartbeat. But the boys are happy here.”
She nodded. Funnily enough, if not for the memories and her father, she preferred the pace of Highland Falls to Atlanta, and she loved the natural beauty here. She had a feeling if Oliver and Brooks gave the town half a chance, they’d come to feel the same way.
“Sorry,” she said as she struggled to release the Velcro. “You’ll have to take off your vest. While you do that, I’ll run home and get my bag.”
She didn’t give him a chance to argue. She slipped on her boots and ran out the door without her jacket. After hurrying across the Buchanans’ front lawn and up her driveway to her side door, she took a second to gather herself in case Oliver and Brooks were up. Her hand trembled as she turned the doorknob. The sight of Gabe standing there bleeding had shaken her.
She’d come to care about him, a man she barely knew. Only that wasn’t completely true. She felt like she’d known him forever. Maybe because she’d been fantasizing about him for so long. But every moment she spent in his company, those feelings intensified. Tonight’s joint family dinner had just made it worse. It had given her a glimpse of what life could be like. Of a life she’d fantasized about as a little girl.
Gabe was everything a father was supposed to be: strong, loving, and protective. There was no doubt he loved his boys just as there was no doubt they loved him. Her heart had broken a little for Oliver and Brooks as they’d watched Gabe play touch football and interact with his sons at dinner. She’d seen the way they’d reacted to his stories about college ball. How they’d responded to his attention by sitting a little taller, mimicking some of his movements and mannerisms.
She’d never allowed herself to think about it before—it felt disloyal to Harry—but her stepsons had missed out on a normal relationship with their father, and a normal relationship with their mother. Mallory worried what that would mean for them in later years. Her relationship with her parents hadn’t been normal either, and look what had happened to her.
As she hurried through the living room to her bedroom to grab her leather satchel, she noticed the thump of the bass making the hardwood reverberate beneath her feet. The boys were still up. She was torn between running back to Gabe and checking on them. She hooked the purse over her shoulder and fast-walked to Oliver’s room.
Of course they didn’t hear her knock so she yelled, “I’m coming in, boys.”
Just as she thought, they were sitting on the floor, propped against the bed with their headphones on. She turned off the speaker. “You guys will be deaf before you’re eighteen. Come on, time for bed. You need to be up at nine for church in the morning.” It had been Abby’s idea. Mallory had gotten back to her about Kayla while she and Teddy waited for the cookies and casserole to bake.
“Ah, come on, Mal,” both boys groaned at almost the same time.
“Church is a social event in Highland Falls. You’ll get a chance to meet some of the kids from your school. And it’ll make a good impression on Ms. McPherson.” There was also a Christmas craft sale after the service that Mallory wanted to check out. Since Marsha had inherited the holiday decorations along with the mansion, Mallory had nothing to decorate the house on Reindeer Road.
“Hey, what happened to your hand? You’re bleeding,” Brooks said, his gaze shooting to hers.
“It’s not my blood. It’s Gabe’s.” Oh crap, she probably wasn’t supposed to say anything.
“Is he okay?” Oliver asked.
“Yes, but it’s important you don’t say anything about this, okay? The boys would be upset, and the person who accidently shot Gabe would get in trouble.”
Their eyes practically bugged out of their heads. “He got shot?”
“I know. But it sounds worse than it is.” At least according to Gabe. “I have to get back there. I shouldn’t be long. I’ll lock the door. You guys go to bed.”
“Did you call Marsha?” Oliver asked as she walked from the room.
Mallory briefly closed her eyes. She’d hoped they’d forgotten about it or that maybe hanging out with Gabe and the boys tonight would’ve made them reconsider staying here with her. Obviously wishful thinking on her part. “It was late by the time Teddy, Dylan, and Cody went to bed. I’ll call after church.”
By the time she’d made it back to Gabe’s, he was no longer in the entryway, kitchen, or living room, from what she could see. “Gabe?” she called out softly and slipped off her boots.
“Back here.” His low and deep voice came from down the hall. At least he didn’t sound faint from blood loss. If anything, he sounded frustrated and annoyed. He looked it, too, when she found him in his bedroom. Only he was shirtless, the top button of his jeans open, and a bloody white cloth pressed to his side so her eyes didn’t stay long on his face.
She forced her gaze from his six pack and put her bag on the bed. It was a masculine room done in gray and camel. “Has the bleeding stopped?” she asked as she walked into the master’s en suite to wash her hands.
He lifted the cloth from his side, then raised his eyes to meet hers in the mirror. “Yeah. I told you. I can take care of it on my own.”
“Humor me, please.” She dried her hands as she walked back into the bedroom to get her first aid kit out of her bag.
“You haven’t left me much choice.”
Definitely annoyed and frustrated with her. “Yes, I have. I’ll take you to the hospital right now if you’d prefer.”
“Very funny, Doc. Where do you want me?”
“If you lie down on your right side, that should work.” She picked up the towel and spread it on the side of the bed closest to her. Then she put out a hand to help him stretch out on the bed.
“I’m not an invalid, you know.”
“Oh, I know. You’re a superhero who feels no pain.” He had the muscles of a superhero, that’s for sure, and he was putting on a very good act of being pain free. From what she could see of his wound, he was right; it had been a peripheral hit and hadn’t penetrated the abdomen so there was no damage to any internal organs. He’d been very lucky. Still, infection was an issue.
His lips quirked. “I wouldn’t go that far. Dammit,” he swore through clenched teeth as he stretched out on the bed.
She gave his arm a comforting squeeze. His skin was smooth and warm. Too warm? she wondered, and gently placed the back of her hand against his beard-roughened cheek. Her hands were cold so it wa
s difficult to tell.
“I don’t have a fever, Doc,” he said when she moved her hand to his forehead.
“I’d like to make sure.” She went to get the digital thermometer from her purse.
“You’re like Mary Poppins with her magic carpet bag. What else do you have in that thing?”
“If you’re good and stop complaining, I’ll give you a spoonful of sugar.”
He snorted. “That might work with Teddy.”
“I don’t know. You ate twice as many snickerdoodles as he did.”
“And I’m at least five times his size.”
“Mm-hmm, yes, you are.” He turned his head to look at her. Son of a nutcracker, she’d hummed out loud. She stuck the thermometer in his ear. Seconds later it beeped. “Normal,” she said. This time in a completely professional manner. “That’s very good.”
“I’m glad you’re pleased. Now do you think you could check my wound?”
“I’m going to clean it thoroughly, and I have an anesthetic spray as well as some acetaminophen with codeine that will help with the pain.” They were left over from when she’d strained her back lifting Harry. “But you need to go to your doctor and get a prescription.”
She went to the bathroom and filled a small tray from her first aid kit with warm water, then returned to pull on a pair of disposable gloves. “I’ll be as gentle as possible but it might sting a bit,” she warned him and then got to work. He flinched a couple of times but otherwise stayed quiet.
She refilled the tray three times with warm water before she was completely satisfied the wound was thoroughly cleaned. Gently patting it dry, she checked again for signs of inflammation. Once she was satisfied, she sprayed the area with the antiseptic spray. “I’m going to let that dry, and then I’ll dress the wound.”
“Thanks,” he said, and went to get up.
She put her hand on his arm to keep him in place. “I know you don’t think it’s a big deal, but you were shot. Physically, it’s traumatic, so I’d feel better if you took it easy.”
“I don’t want the boys to wake up and see any signs I’ve been hurt.”
“They won’t, Gabe. I’ll take care of it.” She returned with a glass and two pain pills. “Here, take these.” She handed them to him and waited to take the glass and return it to the nightstand. “I can help you take off your jeans and socks, and then you can put on a pair of sleep pants or whatever it is you’re most comfortable to sleep in.”
He looked at her, and the way he did, she got the distinct impression that he slept in all his naked glory. He truly was an incredible specimen of a man. And for one brief and glorious moment, she let herself fantasize about what it would be like to lie down beside him, to be held in his arms, to be kissed by him, to be…
“Okay, then,” she said as heat rushed to her cheeks. “I’ll help you take off your jeans, then dress your wound.”
“Uh, as much as I appreciate the offer, I’m pretty sure I can manage to get changed on my own.”
“Just be careful. I’ll go wipe up in the entryway while you’re getting changed. Let me know when you’re ready.”
It took her ten minutes to clean up any sign that Gabe had been injured. She’d take his jacket home with her and try to get the blood out on her own. She spent another ten minutes tidying the living room and kitchen while waiting for him to call her. Worried that something had happened to him, she went to his bedroom and lightly tapped on the door. “Gabe, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” he said, and she walked in to find him standing barefoot in a pair of black sweatpants dressing his own wound.
“I’ll say it again, Gabe: you are a very stubborn man.” She went over and moved his hand to finish dressing the wound. The dressing was stark white against his golden-bronze skin. Her fingers rested against his firm, muscled abdomen as she taped the dressing in place. She tried to stay focused on the bandage instead of the dark happy trail that disappeared below the waistband of his sweatpants.
“There, you’re all set,” she said, and for some unknown reason patted his stomach as if he were a five-year-old who hadn’t cried when he’d gotten his shot instead of a man with an upper body so beautiful it could make a twenty-nine-year-old woman weep in sexual frustration.
He tipped her chin up with his finger and smiled down at her. “Thanks for everything, Doc. I didn’t deserve it. I acted like a jerk.”
“Under the circumstances, you’re forgiven. You weren’t all that jerky anyway.”
“I was mad at myself, not at you, if that helps. I should’ve intervened sooner. The mayor warned me. I just figured Owen…” He grimaced as though angry at himself for saying too much.
But why would mentioning Owen…“This has something to do with my father, doesn’t it? Did he shoot you? Did my father do this to you?”
He placed his hands on her shoulders. “Doc, relax, okay? Your father had asked Owen to leave. He didn’t, and they got into it. Boyd had a shotgun. It got out of hand. Like I said, I should’ve intervened sooner.”
“You should’ve arrested him. You should’ve thrown him in jail.”
“It was an accident. The way it went down, I honestly can’t say which of them is responsible.”
“So what? They get to shoot you without consequences?”
“Trust me, there’s consequences, and neither one of them is happy about it. The two of them have to do a hundred hours of community service at the senior center. Winter thought it was a good idea.”
“I’m sorry. I must’ve heard you wrong. You didn’t just say that, because Owen and my father were fighting and you can’t be sure which of them shot you, you’ve sentenced them to community service with me instead of throwing them both in jail?”
He winced.
“So I’m not wrong. Well, that’s just wonderful. Now maybe you can explain to me why I’m being punished.”
“Come on, Doc. It’s not a punishment. I just thought—”
“Trust me, anyone with a heart would see this exactly for what it is. You’re punishing me, Gabe, not them. Owen Campbell took me from the only home I’d ever known days after my mother’s funeral, and my father left me there. He left me there for six years.” She brushed a tear from her cheek, and he took her face between his hands.
“Listen to me. I understand why you might feel like I’m trying to punish you, but, Doc, that’s the last thing I want to do. There are things you don’t know, things you need to know.”
“No, I don’t. I don’t need to know anything. The past is in the past, and I want to leave it there. Please, Gabe, make them serve their time with somebody else.”
“The reason your father and Owen were fighting was because of you. They care about you.”
“Do you really expect me to believe that? They left me in foster care, Gabe. You don’t do that to someone you care about.”
“You do if you’re trying to protect them. Owen took you in hopes of snapping your father out of his grief. He was so positive that Boyd would go get you that he made the director promise not to let anyone adopt you.”
She stared at him. Because of Owen, she’d lived all those years with the belief that there was something wrong with her. That she was unlovable. Why else would everyone always pass her by? And those feelings of inadequacy, of never being enough, had plagued her into adulthood. Every person, every situation, she viewed through those defective lenses.
The story she’d told herself made her believe that Harry had never really loved her. He’d just wanted a nurse with a purse. And she’d walked away from everything without a fight.
“Weeks later, your dad left Highland Falls. Owen had assumed it was to get you.”
“He made a lot of wrong assumptions, didn’t he?” It didn’t matter that she now had an explanation as to why no one had wanted to adopt her no matter how good she’d tried to be. The one person who should’ve wanted her hadn’t.
“Owen did, and he needs to answer for them, and so does your father. But yo
u need to know Boyd believed you deserved more than he could ever give you. He wanted you to have the best of everything, and he seemed honestly devastated to learn that, because of Owen, no one had adopted you.”
“What am I supposed to do with this, Gabe? What do you want from me?”
“You don’t have to do anything other than give them eight hours of work to do every day.”
“No. I might not have known you for long, but the one thing I do know is there’s more to this than you’re letting on.” She searched his face. “You think I need this, don’t you? You think I need to forgive them so that I can move on.”
He carefully drew her into his arms. Less than twenty minutes ago, she’d fantasized about being held by him. Being kissed by him, she thought when his lips brushed the top of her head. But right now she was furious he’d put her in this position.
“Maybe I do. But even more than you, Mal, they need to make amends.”
She eased out of his arms. “And I’m supposed to care about that why?”
“Because you’re you.” He tucked her hair behind her ear.
“If I refuse?”
“I’ll charge them, and they’ll probably each get two years.”
Chapter Fifteen
Aw, come on, Dad. Do we really have to? Let’s go to the diner instead. Teddy loves Dot’s pancakes,” Dylan said as Gabe parked just down from the butter-cream-clapboard church on Main Street.
Gabe could’ve told Dylan to save his breath. It wasn’t going to work. Teddy was determined to go to church this morning, and his youngest was the stubbornest of his sons. He’d also done an excellent job of guilting Gabe.
“It’s the first Sunday of Advent. We have to go,” Teddy said as he undid his seat belt.
“Why? We haven’t been to church since…we left New York.”
Gabe glanced at Dylan in the rearview mirror. They hadn’t been to church since Lauren’s funeral.
“Santa isn’t the only one who’s watching, Dylan. So is Jesus, and he’s the reason for the season.”
“Aw, Dad, do we have to? Church is lame,” Cody said.
