She told him about the prospect for Blue’s adoption. “I’ll be shocked if Sarah doesn’t take him.”
“I know you wanted it done before you left.” He rolled his shoulders. “I’ll be heading out tomorrow.”
“So…this is goodbye?”
“Seems so. Before I forget—” He reached into his shirt pocket, pulled out a gold hair clasp. “I found it when I was packing. Forgot I had it.”
“The firefly rescue. Yes, I remember.” Every. Minute. She took the barrette, still warm from his hand. A lump wedged in her throat. “I think we made a good team, and…and, I’m very sorry for the way I acted at the end. I was mad at my father, and I took it out on you.”
“I think this is where I came into the picture in May—you mad at your father.”
She offered a wry smile. “I get it that you couldn’t tell me he asked you to ‘protect’ me. Knowing my father, you likely didn’t have a choice.”
A grin. “Being with you all summer was a pleasure.”
The lump threatened to dissolve into tears. “For me too.”
He stepped away. Standing too close to her had become hazardous to his heart. “I should just keep moving. I want to tell Blue goodbye.”
Kenzie wanted to draw out their parting. And to figure a way to thank him for giving his salary to her project, without revealing Ciana’s slip. “Did you hear that the Mercers have asked me to come again next summer and do rescue work? I agreed.”
“I’m not surprised. You’re a natural.” His grin was fast, his eyes dark pools, and she quickly realized he wasn’t going to say anything about his donation.
“Take care.”
“Let me know when you get that law degree.”
He closed his eyes, started to say something, decided against it, turned, and jogged across the grass. In the moonlight, the world had turned an ethereal shade of white.
Kenzie watched him disappear into the woods, reminding herself that building walls around herself was a well-practiced habit. Casual dating, yes. Serious entanglements, no. Austin had almost broken through. She lifted her face skyward, let the moon wash over her. “Goodbye, Austin.” My love.
* * *
—
Blue and Mamie were bedded down for the night in their stalls on fresh straw. The horses’ heads popped over the tops of the half doors. “Hi there.” He obliged each with a treat, scratched Blue’s broad forehead. “You be good for a new owner, you hear?” Blue chewed, eyes half closed. All at once, his head came up, ears forward, on alert. The big horse whinnied deep in his throat, edged backward in his stall, ears flattened. “Hey, what’s wrong, Blue?”
A boot’s scrape. Austin turned, his brain registering in slow motion a man in a ski mask, arm raised, a long knife on a downward thrust plunging into his chest. He gagged, heard a whoosh—his lung blown, deflating. He staggered, twisted away from the stall, fell backward, his head slamming against the hard floor. Flashes of light. Searing, burning pain.
Malevolent dark eyes stared down from the mask. Bending with hand outstretched, the man said, “I want my knife back.”
Struggling for air, Austin saw a streak of white from the corner of his eye, and the assailant was hurled to one side, then hauled backward amid growls and snarls. The man screamed. Human bone crunched. Austin fought to stay conscious, lost the battle, and darkness swallowed him whole.
The journey into consciousness was like swimming through gelatin. Austin drifted, forced his way upward, and drifted again, until finally he broke the surface and opened his eyes. He was in a dark space. A cup covering his mouth and nose was held in place with a stretchy band. He blinked, attempting to focus. He was in a room, on a bed, machines humming in one ear. He turned his head and was swamped by pain from inside his skull. He gulped deep breaths, clearing away the gelatin remnants.
Gingerly, he cut his eyes to his left, made out machine shapes beside the bed—monitors with squiggly lines and blurry numbers, tubes leading from a stand attached to his immobilized right arm, another tube protruding from his chest. His whole body felt strange, fuzzy. He sorted through dense, murky images. A man, a knife. Panic. Pounding heart. He cut his eyes to the right, saw Kenzie, curled up and asleep, covered with a blanket in a nearby chair. She became his visual anchor, his connection to reality. If she was with him, he was alive and grounded. Austin settled, closed his eyes, and slept.
* * *
—
The next time Austin awoke, midmorning sunlight flowed through the window. Kenzie sat upright in the chair, awake and reading a book.
“Kenzie.”
At the sound of his voice, Kenzie leaped forward, sending the book crashing to the floor, and rushed to his bedside. He held up his untethered hand and she cradled his palm to her cheek. Tears swam in her eyes. “Welcome back.”
Her whispered, trembling words and the look on her face caused him to lift his head, sending a mini-explosion through his skull. “Water?” he asked, his throat burning with thirst.
She grabbed a cup from a bedside table and raised the oxygen cup covering his mouth and nose and rested it on his forehead. She scooped out an ice chip and laid it on his lips. He sucked it into his mouth, and for the next few minutes, she fed him chips until he felt revived enough to ask, “What’s happened?”
“A man stabbed you. You’ve had surgery. You have a concussion and you’re hurt, very hurt.” She reached behind and hooked her foot around the leg of the heavy chair, dragging it closer and sitting. “Do you remember anything?”
He closed his eyes, an attempt to shut out the throbbing inside his head. “Blue…I was talking to him. His ears went flat. Heard a noise behind me.” Images flowed, ebbed. Menacing images of a man in a ski mask, arm raised, hand gripping a knife. “No, not too much.” He shut out the pictures.
“I was still standing on my patio when I heard the horses whinnying. They sounded panicked. And then Soldier shot past me like a freight train and a man started screaming. I took off through the woods—”
“You shouldn’t have done that. The guy, he could have attacked you.”
Her sprint from the patio, the blind run in the dark along the path, bushes and tree leaves slapping, stinging against her arms and face. Fear had coursed through her, driving her. Coming into the stable, Austin had been on the floor, a knife protruding from his chest, while Soldier was attacking a screaming man, blood on the dog’s white fur. Reliving the minutes spiked her heart rate. She touched Austin, managed a smile. “Not a problem. Soldier had the guy pinned and bleeding. The ruckus was heard all the way up to the bunkhouse and everybody came running. Jon got there first with his shotgun, called off the dog, called 911. I…I went to you…and saw a knife.” She rocked in the chair, bereft. “Why, Austin? Why did he stab you?”
“Hey, no tears. I’m all right.” Deep breaths were difficult. His chest felt compressed, as if bearing weights he couldn’t lift.
Kenzie didn’t believe his claim. His color was chalky, and his voice sounded strained. Seeing him fight for breath scared her. She knew firsthand the smothery sensation of oxygen deprivation. She quickly lowered the oxygen mask from his forehead to his nose and mouth. “This will help.”
He sucked in the pure air, and it chased away the light-headedness. “What else?”
“You were unconscious. You didn’t even wake up when the EMTs came, and when they got you to the hospital, you went right into surgery. We all came and waited. It…it took a long time.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Since they brought you down from the recovery room, about two this morning. The others left after the surgeon came out and said—” Her voice snagged. Her lips trembled. “He said you would make it.”
“You should have gone home with the others. I’ve slept in those chairs; it’s no way to spend a night.”
“I wanted to be her
e when you woke up.” Needed to be.
“Well, now I’m awake. Please go, get some rest.” He saw the strain of the night on her face, the paleness of her skin. “Come back later. I’ll be better company, promise.” Pain was coming in waves.
She saw he was hurting, put his hand on a remote attached to his bed rail. “You have a morphine infusion pump. Push the call button, and a nurse will come, tell you what you need to know about using the pump. I’m not leaving until she comes.”
He pushed the button on the remote. “There, it’s done.” Kenzie rose, pushed the chair into its previous position, and went to stand at his bedside. He itched to smooth her hand over his forehead but didn’t. He remembered how he’d sat at her bedside all night, how scared he’d been. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this…in hospital rooms.”
She laced her fingers through his, rewarded him with a watery smile. “I agree.”
A nurse bustled into the room, and Kenzie stepped aside while the woman offered kind words and instructions about the morphine pump’s red button. The nurse fiddled with the IV lines, smoothed the sheets, and left. “Kenzie, this is going to knock me out. I’ll sleep.”
She didn’t want to leave but was afraid he wouldn’t push the button if she didn’t go. At the door, she turned, remembering something. “Before I forget, a man came to see you early this morning. He wasn’t familiar to me, and he didn’t tell me his name. He just stood staring at you, looking sad. He was older, with white hair in a buzz cut. Finally, I asked if I could help him. He shook his head, said, ‘I’ll stop by later.’ ” She waited. Austin kept his silence. She prodded. “Do you know the guy? Because he seemed to know you.”
Austin played dumb. “I’m sure he’ll return; now please go on. And tell Jon to give Soldier a steak, on me.”
“See you later. Count on it.”
Once she was gone, Austin put his thumb on the morphine pump’s button, torn between taking a dose of the drug and knocking himself out and waiting for his earlier visitor to return. The guy would likely be somewhere nearby, watching and waiting for Austin to be alone in the room. But Austin wasn’t in any condition to talk to him. Not yet. He pushed the red button.
* * *
—
Kenzie drove to Bellmeade in a quandary. She’d been at his bedside, catnapping off and on, terrified. She had almost lost him. Hearing his voice had jump-started memories and emotions she’d worked to banish. Now she was in limbo all over again. It was one thing to say goodbye at summer’s end, quite another to lose him forever. Like Caro. No coming back. It had been hard enough letting go of the idea that she’d never see him again after this summer, and of knowing that their lives had touched, then diverged into separate paths, but to lose him completely was unthinkable.
Kenzie shivered, parked at the barn, and hurried to the back pasture, anxious to see the familiar. Mamie and Blue were grazing, and when she stepped inside on the grass, the horses came to her. Mamie nuzzled and Blue gently lipped her arm, as if both sensed Kenzie’s turmoil. She put her arms around the Appaloosa’s neck, buried her face in the horse’s dark mane, and wept.
* * *
—
Austin awoke groggily to find a man in a white lab coat redressing his chest bandage. “I’m Dr. Shepherd, your surgeon.”
Austin fought to clear cobwebs from his brain. “Will I live?”
“Absolutely.” Shepherd grinned. “The knife went deep, through muscle wall and into your right lung. It collapsed. Good thing we’re given two, because your left lung kept you alive long enough for the EMTs to arrive. Now you’re all patched and your lung’s inflated. That chest tube is for drainage but will come out in a couple of days. You cracked two ribs when you fell, and banged your head hard enough to concuss your brain. But believe it or not, you were lucky. If you’d turned to your left instead of your right, the knife might have hit your heart.”
“When can I get out of here?”
“Slow down. Don’t be so eager. You’ve got a lot of sutures inside and out, and a good bit of healing to do. Your IV contains a broad-spectrum antibiotic to ward off infections. In short, we need to keep an eye on you, so your stay is a day-by-day thing.” The doctor finished dressing the wound and then scribbled some notes on the electronic tablet he carried. “You were in my OR before the knife was removed. It acted like a plug. If it had been removed prematurely, you would have bled to death. A nasty weapon, too—serrated on one side, razor sharp on the other. The police have taken charge of it. Roll on your left side, please.”
Austin grabbed the bedrail, and groaning, he turned. “Hurts.”
“No doubt. Your ribs will take time to knit together. You’ll have to take it easy even after you leave the hospital.” The doctor placed his stethoscope against Austin’s upper and lower back, listening. “Your lung’s clear, a good sign. It’s also good that you’re in top physical condition. It will help toward your recovery.” The physician poked the end of his scope into the front top pocket of his white coat as Austin gingerly eased onto his back to again lie flat on the bed. “We’ll take you off the pump and switch you to oral pain meds tomorrow. You’ll also be getting out of bed and walking the halls. I’ll check you again in the morning.”
The surgeon tucked the tablet under his arm, offered a nod, and left. Austin rubbed his eyes with his free hand, saw that sunlight no longer stretched across the floor, and guessed it was late afternoon. He wondered if his visitor had come while he was knocked out, but also knew the man would keep coming until the two of them spoke face to face. He only hoped he could get the visit over with before Kenzie showed up again. He was also feeling hungry and was about to call for a nurse to ask about getting a food tray when another visitor stalked into the room. Avery Caine.
Avery crossed to the bed, his face a mask of cold fury. “Kenzie called and told me what happened last night.”
Austin shuddered a breath. He was in no shape to spar with Kenzie’s father. “I was the target, not her.”
“What if she’d been with you?”
“She wasn’t.”
“You were attacked! Stabbed! Why? You told me Bellmeade was safe. You told me you could protect her. You couldn’t even protect yourself.”
Austin’s whole body ached from the ordeal, but the force of Avery’s anger hurt more, a hurt that not even morphine could ease. The man was right—Austin had been taken by surprise. If Soldier hadn’t interceded, he would be dead. And Kenzie had run toward the evil that could have killed her.
“Stay away from my daughter! You understand? When you get out of this place, don’t come anywhere near Kenzie. You got that?”
Austin gritted his teeth, feeling as if his head would explode from pain. “Once I’m out of the hospital, I’ll be gone for good. No worries.”
“Make sure you keep that promise.” Avery stabbed the air with his forefinger, his eyes diamond hard. “No contact at all. I mean it.”
Austin kept silent, staring up at the ceiling.
Avery went to the door, spun, and with ice in his voice, said, “Who are you, Boyd? Who the hell are you?”
Austin kept his finger off the red button, using sheer determination to ward off his physical pain and waiting for his early-morning visitor to reappear. Austin had asked the nurse to put a privacy sign on his door, wanting to discourage any other unexpected guests. He knew Avery was correct; he needed to be gone. If he was out of the picture, perhaps the breach between Avery and his daughter would have a better chance of healing.
The hospital’s dinner food trays had come and gone before Caller 2 on his throwaway cell arrived, shutting the door behind him. The man was middle-aged and barrel-chested, with short hair, eagle-sharp brown eyes, and a broad nose. Bags under his eyes attested that he needed a good night’s sleep. He rested big, beefy hands on Austin’s bedrail, gazed at the medical equipment on the other side of the bed, and sh
ook his head wearily.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Austin said.
“Well, from where I’m standing, it looks bad enough. Give me a medical update. No holding back either.” Austin reported what Dr. Shepherd had told him, and the visitor scowled. “You know I would have been here sooner, but I had to face off with local police about what happened. The crime and the perpetrator is in their jurisdiction, so there’s a whole lot of paperwork involved.”
“Where is the guy? I heard the dog tore him up.”
“Ironically, he’s two floors below you, being treated, and is cuffed to a bed. It’s possible he’ll lose his arm, or at least part of it.”
Soldier was a formidable force. The white shepherd weighed over eighty pounds, and his jaws could exert two hundred and forty pounds of bite pressure. The attacker hadn’t stood a chance when the dog had come after him in defense of Austin. “Do you know who he is? Are there others?”
“Unlikely.”
By now, Austin’s mask had been replaced with a cannula to facilitate talking and eating, and deep breaths were painful, but Austin took one anyway. “I want out of here. Can you get me moved to another hospital?”
“More paperwork? What’s wrong with this hospital?”
“Am I interrupting?” Kenzie peeked around the edge of the door, which she’d quietly pushed open. She recognized the man at Austin bedside from his predawn visit. The man turned, gave her a nod.
Austin’s heart did a flip-flop. Either Avery hadn’t yet talked to her about keeping her distance, or she’d ignored what he’d said and come anyway. Austin remembered how he’d poured out his feelings about Kenzie to his visitor and felt embarrassed.
Kenzie stepped into the room, shutting the door behind her. Coming bedside, she gave Austin’s visitor a tentative smile. “I see you two finally connected. I’m Kenzie Caine. Austin and I work together. Or we did this past summer.”
The Girl with the Broken Heart Page 19
