by Dee Davis
Mary Louise smiled, pushing aside her insecurities. “Well, I guess I can’t argue with that.”
“Argue with what?” Bryce asked, walking up behind Tara and dropping a kiss on the top of her head.
“Love,” Tara replied, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she leaned back into her husband’s arms.
“Here’s to that,” Zeke said, his deep voice carrying across the gathered crowd. “And on that note, I want to propose a toast to my big brother and the love of his life, Miss Anna Mae Prager. Here’s wishing you both the very best.”
Zeke lifted his beer bottle into the air, and everyone else followed suite. Chase gave a big whoop and twirled Anna Mae around in a circle.
“They look so happy,” Tucker said, joining the group.
“I’m glad they found each other again,” Tate agreed, slipping an arm around Mary Louise. “It gives a guy hope.”
“Tucker,” Hannah called, slipping her phone into her pocket as she walked toward them.
“Everything all right?” he asked, quickly stepping to her side.
“No.” She shook her head, her eyes welling with tears. “It’s my sister. She’s in the hospital. And Hector…Hector is dead.”
* * * *
Joanne slowly opened her eyes, recognizing the institutional white walls of Storm’s hospital. For a moment, she struggled to remember why she was here, then reality hit with a speed that robbed her of breath.
Hector was dead.
She lay for a moment, letting the idea sink in.
Dead.
The man she’d once loved. The man she’d learned to fear. The man who’d destroyed her family. He was dead.
There should be horror or sadness or delight.
But instead she felt only relief. Blessed, blessed relief.
Slowly she sat up, trying to assess the damage. Her eye was almost swollen shut, and her cheek throbbed in agony. Her arm was in a splint and she could feel the pressure bandage around her ribs. She’d been lucky. Truly lucky. But her kids. Dear God, Marcus had almost been killed trying to rescue her. And Dakota…Dakota had seen it all. She’d watched as Hector died. She’d worshiped her father. Dear Lord, what had it cost her to witness his madness?
She tried to swing her feet around to the edge of the bed. She needed to find her children. But the world swung in a crazy circle and she swallowed against the rush of pain.
“Careful, Mom,” Marcus said, striding through the door and across the room to slide a protective arm around her waist as he eased her back down onto the bed. “You need to be resting.”
“But I need to check on Mallory and…”
“I’m right here, Momma.” Mallory stood in the doorway, looking so young and lost.
“And Dakota?” Joanne lay back, looking to her oldest.
“Patrick Murphy is looking for her. They’ve become friends, and I figured she’d be more likely to talk to him than to me. So don’t worry. He’ll find her. What’s important now is that you let us take care of you.”
“I’m fine,” she said as Mallory came to perch on the chair beside the bed. Marcus leaned back against the windowsill, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched them both. “Just a little bit banged up.”
“A little bit?” Marcus’s eyebrows rose. “You’ve got two broken ribs, a hairline fracture in your cheek, and your shoulder was dislocated. I’d say that qualifies as more than just a bit banged up.”
“Marcus,” Mallory chastised, going from kid to adult in a split second. Joanne shuddered with remorse. What had she done to her children? “She doesn’t need your anger on top of everything else.”
“I’m sorry.” Marcus nodded, clearly struggling with his emotions. “I didn’t mean to sound harsh. It’s just that you’re not okay. None of us are. We probably never will be completely. But the important thing here is that he’s gone. And he can never hurt any of us again.”
“Marcus is right,” Mallory said in her too-adult voice. “We all survived. That’s what matters.”
“At least you weren’t there,” Joanne said, reaching over to brush a strand of hair from Mallory’s face. “I’d have done anything to spare your brother and sister from what happened.”
“But don’t you see, Mom?” Marcus said. “That’s partly why it was all so difficult. You never let us help you.”
“How could I do that? I’m your mother. I’m supposed to protect you. I’m the fool who married Hector. I’m the fool who didn’t have the strength to walk away. I couldn’t let him hurt you, too.” She watched her son, praying that he’d understand. That he’d forgive her.
“So you drove me away.”
“No. But I let you go. Because I wanted you to live. I knew that if I let you stay, either Hector would kill you or you’d kill Hector. And neither of those options were acceptable. Either way you’d have to pay for my sins.”
“But what about Dakota and Mallory?”
“Mom protected me,” Mallory said, and Joanne felt a rush of love for her youngest. “Daddy never hit me. He never even tried. Mom never left us alone together. And he worshiped Dakota.” The last was said with derision.
“You sister stood up to your father today,” Joanne said, remembering the horror on Dakota’s face when she’d realized what kind of man Hector truly was. “I’d have given anything to spare her seeing me like that, but she was there, and she tried to defend me. To stop your father. When it truly mattered, she chose me.”
“I guess there’s always a first time,” Mallory sighed, her anger and bravado evaporating. “I’m just sorry I wasn’t there. I should have been.” She flushed, and Joanne recognized the signs of guilt.
“Oh, baby, I’m so grateful you weren’t there. I’m so thankful that you were safe.”
“But he could have killed you all. I heard Dillon talking to Marcus. He had a gun. He…he shot Marcus.”
Joanne looked to her son again. “You’re all right?”
“Just a graze.” Marcus’s smile finally reached his eyes. “I’m fine, Mom. As you said, we’re all a bit battered but we’re going to be okay.”
“Yeah,” Mallory said. “We’ve got each other.”
“And half of Storm, if the crowd outside in the waiting room is anything to speak of. Hannah and Tucker are out there. And Kristin and Hedda. And Tate Johnson. There’s a whole crew.”
“And Luis would be here if he could,” Mallory said, “only Ginny is in labor, so he’s just down the hall.”
“Ginny’s having the baby?” Joanne smiled, the movement painful but the emotion genuine. “Is everything going okay?”
“Yeah, she’s fine. It’s just going slowly because it’s her first. I think the other half of the town is over there in the OB waiting room. And I saw Logan go into her room.” She lifted her eyebrows suggestively.
“Well, they deserve to be happy,” Joanne said. “I never thought people should have ostracized Ginny the way that they did. She made a bad choice. It happens to the best of us.” An understatement, surely. “But she was smart. She walked away from the senator. That has to count for something.”
“I think Logan knows that,” Marcus said.
“And Brittany?” Joanne asked. “Does she know about all of this?”
“Yes. She’s with her aunt over in the OB lounge. But I told her everything. I didn’t want her hearing it from someone else first.”
“This isn’t going to sit well with her grandmother. I’m so sorry to have made more trouble for the two of you.”
“Stop apologizing, Mom,” Marcus said, shaking his head. “Dad was the one who caused all of this, not you. He’s at fault. He’s always been at fault. You got caught up in his madness is all. Hell, if anyone should have done something differently, it’s me. I should have forced you to walk away.”
“You tried, Marcus. But I truly believed that if I stayed, it would deflect your father’s anger from the three of you.” She allowed herself a small self-deprecating grin. “Maybe not the soundest of thinking.”
“Yeah, well, I say we make a new start,” Mallory said. “The three of us.” She hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. “And Dakota, if she’s willing.”
“Whether she’s willing or not, she’s part of this family, squirt.” Marcus gave her a pointed stare.
“Yeah, I suppose so. And I’m not a squirt anymore.”
Marcus leaned over to give her a hug. “No, you’re not. But in my mind you’ll always be my tag-along little sister.”
Joanne smiled, watching her children, feeling the smallest stirrings of hope.
“I guess there are worse things,” Mallory grumbled.
“Is this a private party?” a deep voice asked from the doorway. “Or can anyone come in?” Dillon Murphy looked decidedly uncomfortable, as if he wasn’t quite sure of his welcome.
“Come on in,” Marcus said. “The doctor said not to have too many people in here at once. But we were just leaving.”
Mallory opened her mouth to protest, but Marcus shot his sister a warning glance. Joanne swallowed a smile.
“We’ll be right outside, Mom,” Marcus said as he ushered his sister out the door.
Chapter 7
Dillon stood in the doorway, literally hat in hand as Joanne watched her children leave the room. He looked so tall and handsome. So strong and yet so gentle. Everything she wanted in a man. Which after everything that had happened, seemed a mean twist of fate. How could he ever love her? She’d made such a muck of things. Almost destroyed her children’s lives.
How could Dillon Murphy ever look at her as anything other than weak and foolish?
“I…ah…wasn’t sure you’d want to see me.” He looked nervous, his big hands spinning the hat between his fingers.
“Of course I want to see you. You saved my family today.”
“It wasn’t just me, Joanne. You had a part in saving them too.” He walked over to the chair beside the bed. “Can I sit?”
“Please.” She gestured to the chair, offering him a shaky smile.
They sat for a moment in silence, the air seeming heavy with all that stretched between them.
“I’m sorry—” they both began at once, then broke off, silence swallowing their words.
“What have you got to be sorry for, Dillon?” she asked, not able to cover the shock in her voice.
“A lot. For lying to you about my part in Hector’s leaving. Hell, for getting involved in the first place. I should have talked to you first.”
She shook her head, wishing that there was a way to turn back the clock. To change everything. To make it all go away. “You know I wouldn’t have listened.”
“Maybe not, but there’s still what happened today…” He trailed off, looking down at his hat. “I’m not apologizing for what I did. I’d do it over again in a heartbeat. Hector Alvarez was scum. But he was also your husband. And I killed him.”
“He wasn’t my husband—at least not in any positive sense of that word.” She shook her head, needing him to know that there was nothing about today that she regretted. It was the past that held pain. Her decisions, her failures that ate at her core. “A husband is supposed to love and protect. To be a life partner. Hector was none of those things. Not ever. And you—you’ve been there for me practically every day of my life. You’ve saved me so many times I’ve lost count. I’m the one who should be asking for forgiveness. I should have been stronger. I should have been braver. I should have walked out the door.”
“You stayed to protect your kids.” He reached up to caress her battered face, and she reveled in the contact.
“Yes.” She nodded, covering his hand with hers, touching him giving her strength. She needed to say it out loud. To admit to her failings. “But I also stayed because I was scared. And because I didn’t think I deserved anything better. If anyone should be sorry, Dillon, it’s me. I threw away everything I had all those years ago when I decided to chase after Hector. And everything that’s happened since…well, I made my own bed.”
“People make mistakes, Joanne. That doesn’t mean they have to pay for them forever. And they sure as hell don’t deserve to be beaten to death because of them. One thing I can tell you for certain is that what Hector did to you wasn’t your fault. That’s all on him. And anything you might think to the contrary is just plain wrong.”
“In here,” she pointed to her head, “I know you’re right. I know that I can be a better woman—a stronger woman—than I was when I was with him. But every single day I have to live with what all of this has done to my children. What kind of mother lets her children stay in that kind of situation? I should have found the courage to walk away, Dillon. I should have been stronger for Mallory and Marcus and Dakota.”
Her gut clenched, her heart twisting in agony. It felt as if parts of her were being ripped in two. She bent her head, sobs ripping through her, threatening to tear her apart. The physical pain faded against the turmoil and anguish washing through her. She was nothing. No one.
And then his strong arms came around her, his warmth enveloping her.
He held her while she cried. For the things she’d done. For the things she hadn’t done. For all that she’d lost. And for all that the world had given her anyway. He whispered nonsensical words of comfort in her ear, and she tried to remember the last time someone had held her just because they cared.
“Let it go,” he whispered. “Let it all go. It’s time, Joanne. It’s over now. It’s all over.”
Finally the sobs turned to little hiccups, the tears slowing until she could breathe easily again. She pulled back, lifting her gaze to meet his. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come through that door today.”
His smile was slow and sure, his big hand rubbing soothing circles against her back. “Well, now, the good news is that you don’t have to worry about that. I was there. And I figure I probably always will be. It’s just the way things are.”
She felt tears again and tried to push them away with her good hand, but he lifted her chin instead, the look in his eyes making her quiver inside. “Because you’re the sheriff.” She tried for a smile, but knew it was lopsided at best.
“No,” he shook his head. “Because I love you.” His breath caressed her cheek as he bent to cover her lips with his. The kiss was gentle yet full of promise. And Joanne closed her eyes and let herself feel cherished.
A long while later, he pulled back, staring down at her. “I know you’ve been through hell, Joanne, but if you’ll let me, I want to show you that it doesn’t have to be like that.”
Hope bloomed, bright and strong, casting light through the dark corners of her soul. “So then maybe there’s still a chance for you and me?”
“More than a chance, Joanne.” His smile was so wonderful her heart actually lurched in response. “Way, way more than a chance.”
* * * *
“What do you mean she turned you down?” Marylee Rush asked her son, fighting against her own irritation.
“Just what I said. I told her I was willing to take care of both her and the child, and she not only said no, she basically told me to go to hell.”
“And I take it you didn’t respond well to her dismissal.” Marylee already knew the answer. She loved her handsome son, but he’d never been able to control his temper or his libido, and they’d both gotten him into trouble more often than not. It’s a wonder she’d managed to get him where he was. Now it was a matter of keeping him there. No matter the cost. Even if it meant playing up to the likes of Ginny Moreno.
“I’ll admit I lost my temper. Said a few things I shouldn’t have said. But the bitch wouldn’t even listen.” Sebastian threw up his hands in agitation. “To think I was going to offer to marry the little tramp.”
“Darling, you can’t marry Ginny until you rid yourself of Payton.”
“Well, that shouldn’t be hard. She’s already left me for all practical purposes.”
“Yes, and taken up with that Francine Hoffman woman, if the rumors are tru
e.” Marylee shuddered delicately. It was hard to fathom Payton taking up with anyone, but if it was Francine, then that explained a lot of things.
“Doesn’t matter. Only gives me the higher ground. Infidelity vs. infidelity. And given the predilections, I should win.”
“It’s a close call.” Marylee sighed and wondered again why the hell she hadn’t put her considerable influence behind her daughter instead of her son. Sebastian was a man. Which made him a liability in so very many ways. Still, the dice were cast, and she wasn’t about to come up with a bad roll.
“What we have to do now,” she said, “is figure out how to get control of the baby. It’s the best way to be certain this doesn’t rise up in the future and bite you in the ass. You made a mistake, you’re sorry you did it, and now you want to make it right—with or without Ginny Moreno’s cooperation. I already have our lawyers on it. But I think it’s equally important that there are witnesses to your change of heart.”
Sebastian nodded, adjusting his cufflinks, his expression thoughtful. “You want me to go to the hospital.”
“Yes. I think you need to be there for the birth of your son or daughter.”
“What about Brittany and Jeffry?”
“What about them?” She frowned, thoughts of her grandchildren as usual filling her with disappointment. Each of them had betrayed the family in their own way. Jeffry by acting out in a very public way and Brittany by taking up with Marcus Alvarez.
“They’ll be at the hospital, if for no other reason than to support Celeste. She’s still harboring the misguided notion that the baby is actually Jacob’s. And anyway, Brittany and Jeffry aren’t exactly my biggest fans at the moment.”
“You’re their father,” Marylee snapped. “Handle them. Besides, Brittany will probably be with the Alvarez kid. Hector’s death and Joanne’s hospitalization will have Marcus running in circles. And Brittany won’t stray from his side. If nothing else, my granddaughter is loyal to a fault.”
