Protector With A Past

by Harper Allen

  There was no way the man could have heard her, especially with the engine of his car racing deafeningly right beside him. He had to be almost fifty yards away from her—it was impossible for any human to have hearing so keen. She held her breath, not letting it out until Donner, after one last wary look around, resumed his task.

  At the end of the crossbow was a metal stirrup, and she inserted her sneaker-clad foot into it. Bending over, the butt end of the stock braced against her breastbone, she grasped the woven steel string of the bow and tried to pull it toward her and the metal pin at the end of the stock it was meant to slip over.

  It didn't budge.

  Grunting with effort, she tried again, and this time succeeded in pulling the steel string a few inches before her strength gave out. Looking up, she was just in time to see Donner fall backward as the rock on the far side of the car slipped free and rolled away.

  He was going to make it. She was going to be standing here, still pulling on this damn string, at the moment the car with Cord in it plunged over Maiden's Leap.

  This time when she strained against the woven steel bowstring she felt something pop in the muscles between her shoulder and her neck, but she ignored the searing pain that ripped through her and kept pulling. She had no choice, she thought hazily, clenching her jaw with the strain and feeling the steel biting through the thin leather of the gloves—if her foot slipped out of the stirrup now the weapon would recoil on her, the stock smashing into her breastbone with enough force to break it. The bowstring was only a few inches away from the metal pin, then an inch, and finally it was level with it, but she still had to pull it tighter to slip it securely over, and she had no more strength left.

  "Or. Die. Trying." Julia gasped, and on the last word the woven steel string slipped from her exhausted grasp—

  —and neatly behind the metal pin that secured it.

  Her whole body trembling, she slipped her foot from the stirrup and looked up. Donner was straining at the rock nearest her, and even as she watched she saw it move a little. In the front seat of the car she saw Cord's body lurch forward and then fall back against the seat from the sudden jerk.

  She started to peel off the leather gloves, but then thought better of it. All that was left was to drop the bolt into the shallow groove that it sat in, just ahead of the metal pin, aim her sights on Donner and pull the trigger.

  That would be all she would have left to do if Gary Donner had been anything other than what he was, she thought grimly. But he was the brain behind the Bradley farmhouse, the killer of her best friends and the one who stood poised to take from her the only man she'd ever loved. She had one last precaution to take.

  "Monkshood, sometimes called wolfsbane, Julia—because its poison is so deadly people used to use it to kill predators. Never touch it, honey…"

  Jane Hunter had warned her about the plant years ago. Now maybe the knowledge she'd passed on would help save her son's life.

  The dark blue flower that she'd ripped out of the garden by the shed lay on the ground in front of her, its roots still earthy. Holding the bolt by one end, Julia crushed the other into the wolfsbane's roots, breaking the plant apart and exposing the white fleshy pith. She could see the juice of the roots spurting out, and in seconds the tip of the bolt was glistening with the most poisonous part of the plant. Keeping it well away from her, she dropped the bolt into the slot of the crossbow.

  She'd prepared herself and her weapon as well as she could, she thought. Now all she could do was pray for a steady hand and a true aim.

  Tossing the gloves aside, she raised the stock to her aching shoulder. The old crossbow had a primitive sight and, narrowing her gaze, she brought it in line with Donner's back. The weapon wasn't a gun, no matter how much it looked like part of one. In order for the bolt to kill Donner instantly she would have to hit his heart.

  "And I'm pretty sure he doesn't even have one," she murmured, lodging the stock more securely against her shoulder. She took a deep breath, and then another, willing her heartbeat to slow, and her finger tightened on the trigger. Donner was heaving backward on the tree limb, but she forced herself to concentrate only on him and not on his progress.

  She was ready.

  "Donner!"

  Even before she uttered the second syllable of his name his upper torso twisted around to face her, his arms and the lower part of his body still straining against the boulder, and at that exact moment she gently squeezed the trigger of the crossbow.

  The bolt flew through the air. Donner's terrible eyes widened. The bolt lodged itself in his left breast.

  And the boulder rolled free.

  * * *

  Chapter 18

  «^»

  "No, God! Noo!"

  The scream was ripped from her throat with violent anguish, but her prayer went unanswered. Its engine whining, Donner's car shot forward at top speed toward the edge of the cliff and then over it, sailing into the sky for about twenty feet before it started to fall.

  Julia was running, her heart feeling like it had ballooned in her chest and was about to burst, her mouth open in a silent rictus of shock as she watched the car's downward trajectory. Cord was in there! He was falling—the car was falling, with him in it! She couldn't allow it—not now! Not when she'd been so close to—

  She stumbled and fell only feet from the lip of the cliff, and on her hands and knees she scrambled to the very edge.

  In the bright sunshine it looked like a toy thrown by a petulant child. Nose downward from the heavier weight of the engine block, the car plunged into the beautiful blue waters of the lake far below and sank from view.

  There had to be some mistake, she thought, her cracked and bleeding lips stretching into a smile. Because after everything the two of them had been through—after they'd lost each other and then painfully found their way back, after Tascoe's sacrifice, Cord's sacrifice, her efforts over the last half hour—

  Well, of course it was a mistake! It was some kind of cosmic joke! And yes—she could see the irony, she could appreciate it, but now she was ready for it to end.

  "You nearly did it, Julia."

  She scrambled to her feet and whirled around. Donner was lying on the ground where the car had been, one arm supporting his weight as he lay there. The torn earth bore mute witness to the force with which the tires had spun the vehicle forward.

  "You bring him back," she said with insane calm. "You bring him back!"

  The silvery eyes looked at her in amusement. "That's beyond my capabilities. But I'm flattered you'd ask."

  She stared at him, and as she did she saw with horror his hands move to the shaft of the bolt protruding from his chest. He gave it a tug and then frowned. He tugged again, and it slipped out a few inches. He paused and smiled at her.

  "You really thought you could kill me, didn't you? I somehow had the impression you knew it was impossible." He shook his head, but despite his casual manner his skin was slick with sweat and his face had an unhealthy pallor.

  "Who are you?" Julia whispered. "What are you, Donner?"

  "Well, for starters, that's not my name." He pulled at the bolt with both hands, but his palms were covered in his own blood and his grip slipped. "And secondly, this isn't enough to stop me. You might want to start running, Julia."

  "I don't think so." He looked worse than he had a moment ago, she thought. In fact, he looked much worse.

  Donner let go of the bolt and touched his lips gingerly, as if they felt painful. He blinked at her and rubbed his eyes, leaving a smear of blood across his forehead.

  "Whyn't you thinzo?" He looked disconcerted, and tried again, this time making an obvious effort to pronounce the words correctly. "Why … don't you…?"

  He gave up, and stared at her with suddenly fearful eyes.

  "Monkshood, known as wolfsbane," Julia quoted softly to him. "It's poison, Donner, and it's in you. They used to use it to kill predators." She turned from him and started to walk toward the edge of the cliff, t
oeing off her sneakers as she did so.

  "No!" Donner said thickly from behind her.

  She glanced over her shoulder at him and started to pull her T-shirt over her head. His vision would be gone by now, she thought calmly. In a moment the organ her bolt might or might not have pierced would stop beating.

  "I told you I'd send you back home today, Donner," she said, but even as she spoke she saw the bulging green eyes start from his head in one last convulsion, and then he fell back onto the dirt.

  She'd done everything she'd set out to do—well, almost everything, she thought, smiling to herself. There was just one last task ahead of her, and God willing, she would be equal to it. She stepped out of her jeans and took a last two steps forward.

  "Why did the maiden leap from the cliff?"

  She knew the answer to that, Julia thought. She'd always known.

  "Because she loved him so," she said out loud. Raising her arms high above her head and taking a deep breath, she dove off Maiden's Leap…

  It was a perfect summer's day, and the air was cool wine pouring against her skin. No wonder Cord had wanted to be a bird, she thought, feeling laughter bubble up inside her. It was indescribable, it was miraculous, she was flying! Her feet were pointed so tightly together behind her that she felt as if they had been transformed into a tail, and her outstretched arms and flatly clasped hands cut the air like a knife.

  And then, she had entered another element, and the water closed over her like silk.

  It was deep here, Julia thought, unafraid as she sped downward through the waters of the lake. It was deep and it was clear, but she couldn't look yet—she was still diving too fast. She felt the drag begin, slowing her down as she began to carefully shallow out her descent, and then she allowed herself to open her eyes.

  Donner's red car was sitting upside down about ten feet ahead of her on the bottom of the lake. She swam toward it like a fish, knowing that everything in her life had come down to this and thankful that she was ready.

  There was still air escaping from the trunk, but to her relief she saw that the passenger side window had been rolled down, which would make it easier to open the door. Her Cord was in there, she thought, swimming closer. He was unconscious, perhaps badly hurt, but he was there.

  He wasn't unconscious, and except for his broken leg he wasn't badly hurt, but as she opened the door she saw that Donner hadn't taken any chances with him. His arms had been duct-taped in front of him to the strap of a seat belt, and he was desperately trying to pull something out of the top of the cast on his leg.

  He looked up as she opened the passenger door, and despite the fact that he was obviously almost out of air he gave her a dreamy smile, his eyes unfocused. Then he motioned her away and bent to his task again.

  He was a very stubborn man, Julia thought resignedly. He probably always would be. But she was a stubborn woman. She pushed his bound hands out of the way and reached into the space between the cast and his leg.

  She found it immediately. Pulling the bone-handled knife from its sheath, she sawed frantically at the tape on his hands until it parted and he was free. She lifted his bad leg out of the car, held onto his hand, and then they were both shooting up toward the shimmering gold-green spangles high above their heads.

  They broke the surface together, and all of a sudden her body was telling her just how starved of oxygen it had really been. She coughed and slipped underwater again for a moment, and then she bobbed up and coughed once more.

  "Dear God, honey—is it really you?" Cord's voice cracked incredulously, and then he was right beside her, his pain-filled gaze on her as if he couldn't believe what he saw. His features were carved with grief. "I thought—I heard the explosion and I thought—" He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against her wet hair, and she saw the wild joy leap in his eyes.

  "I'm real," she said softly, her hand reaching up to hold his briefly. "I'm real, and Donner's dead. And I think you already know that Lizbet's safe."

  He was treading water like she was, both of them gathering strength to swim those last twenty feet to land. One of the tiny blood vessels in his left eye had broken, but in the right one she could see the speck of green, like the reflection of a perfect summer's day.

  "She made it to the Whitefields, honey." He swallowed a mouthful of water and choked, his eyes never leaving her face. "But how in God's name did you get here?"

  He wouldn't believe her if she told him, Julia thought, looking into the dazzling blue of the sky to the cliff high above. Now that it was over, she could hardly believe it herself. Except that he was her Cord, and he believed in magic and legends. If anyone could believe her, he would. She touched his face wonderingly, and then his arm was around her and his mouth was on hers for a long, sweet moment.

  She pulled away from him as they both started to go under again, and pointed into the sky.

  "I flew." She smiled at him, her heart in her eyes. In his were all the years of love they'd had together, and all the years to come.

  "I flew straight back into your arms," she added softly, and then they both struck out for shore.

  * * *

  Epilogue

  «^

  Julia looked up as she heard Cord's brand-new SUV roll into the drive. He'd gone to town to get a blade for his circular saw and of course Lizbet had gone with him, wearing the tiny tool belt he'd fashioned for her out of a scrap of leather when she'd appointed herself his number-one renovation helper. She smiled and wiped her hands on a dish towel. Jelly making was hot work, but the lake house smelled like the essence of summer. When the snow was on the ground again, months from now, opening up these jewel-like jars of raspberry preserves would be like having July back for a while.

  She glanced at the clock. She still had time to make a pie for after dinner, she decided. Her father was coming, and she'd discovered that his once-tart exterior had held a surprisingly sweet tooth. But first things first—her husband and her gift of a daughter were home, and she wanted to sit with them on the porch for a while.

  She had something to tell them both. Touching her still-flat stomach and smiling a secret little smile, she went to the screen door, then frowned. Kicked under the baseboard was one of King's favorite toys—a foolishly small and fluffy stuffed rabbit that he'd had since he'd been a pup. She picked it up, a brief sadness crossing her features, and then she froze.

  From outside on the porch she could hear a noise that had once been part of her world here—the scrabbling sound of a dog's nails on wood. She heard Lizbet's excited and instantly muffled giggle and the soft voice of the man she loved saying something to their little girl.

  "Is it on right, Uncle Cord? Can I let him go now?"

  "Let him go, sweetie. He knows he's home," Cord replied, laughter in his voice.

  Julia pushed the screen door open, and then the scrabbling noise became a big German shepherd running along the whole length of the porch toward her. He was wearing a huge red bow around his neck, she saw as she dropped to her knees and opened her arms wide—a huge red bow, just like the first time Cord had given him to her.

  "King!" she cried, and at the sound of his name the dog ran to her arms, that heavy tail beating like a metronome and those deep brown eyes glowing with adoration. He was licking the tears from her face, but she didn't care, and she couldn't believe it.

  "We couldn't tell you, Auntie Julia." Lizbet was hopping up and down excitedly, her tiny heart-shaped face shining with happiness. "Uncle Cord said it was touch and glow there for a while, so he made me promise not to tell you. But the vet says King's as good as new, except for the place where they shaved his fur off. It'll grow back in, don't worry."

  "How—what—" Julia's voice broke, and she looked wonderingly at Cord, her face wet with tears of joy.

  "One of the cops from the canine unit found him the night of your accident." He hunkered down beside her, pulling Lizbet close with one arm and pushing the hair out of Julia's eyes with a gentle hand. "The bullet crea
sed his skull and gave him a massive concussion—he must have been comatose when we saw him, honey. When they told me there was a chance that surgery could save him. I asked them to do all they could, but they couldn't give me any promises." A shadow crossed his features. "Maybe I should have told you, but like Lizbet said, it was touch and glow there for a long time."

  He grinned wryly, holding her eyes with his. "Forgive me?"

  "Forgive—" She shook her head, laughing and crying at the same time, stroking King's velvety pricked ears. "Oh, Cord, sometimes you're just the densest of men! But I guess that's one of the reasons I love you so much."

  King beat his tail on the porch, and Lizbet swung her gaze from one to the other of them expectantly. She gave an impatient hop.

  "Well, say it!" she prompted with a giggle. "Say what you always say!"

  Cord's dark gaze met Julia's hazel one over the head of the little girl. Julia smiled. She'd spring her surprise on them all at dinner, she thought happily, touching her stomach.

  "Always have." She reached out and tucked a stray strand of strawberry-red hair behind one tiny ear, but her eyes stayed on his.

  "Always will," Cord said softly…

  …and in one dark eye Julia could see a speck of green like the reflection of this perfect summer's day…

  * * * *