Still the One

by Debra Cowan

  She looked at him with anguished eyes. “Liz. She’s been shot.”

  Fear a cold fist around his heart, Rafe moved quickly. He and Tony carried Liz carefully to Tony’s truck while Kit raced ahead to open the door and slide in. They situated Liz so her head rested in Kit’s lap, her feet across Tony’s.

  Outwardly, Rafe was calm, but inside his nerves were a hot, jumbled mess. How close had those wild shots come to Kit?

  He followed them to the highway, calling an ambulance on the way. Then, he called Kit to let her know he’d meet her at the hospital. He stayed behind to wait on the police and tell them what had happened. The sight of Liz’s blood on Kit’s blouse had given him a brutal jolt, made him admit what he’d been trying to deny ever since she’d come back into his life.

  He needed to see her, make sure she was okay, but it was three hours before he finally reached the San Luis Valley Regional Medical Center in Alamosa where the paramedics had transported Liz. Due to the nature of her wound, they thought she needed a larger facility.

  Rafe had given his statement to the local police and stood by Kit as she and Tony had both given theirs. Rafe had told her the cops were willing to wait until her sister was out of surgery, but she wanted it finished.

  Just as the police officers left, a young, blond doctor with kind blue eyes stepped out of the operating room. He introduced himself as Dr. Warren and told them that the bullet had nicked Liz’s spleen. He’d performed a splenectomy, which had progressed fine, and they’d removed the bullet, but she had a pneumothorax—a hole in the lining of the lung—in her right chest from an errant central IV line placed by an intern.

  He recommended a three-or four-day stay in the ICU to recover from the blood loss and the puncture. Just after Liz was taken to ICU, Harv Foley arrived. Rafe hadn’t seen the man in over ten years. He was still built like a line-backer, broad but lean.

  His big build was a perfect match for his big heart. Not a speck of gray shone in Harv’s dark hair. Kit’s hair was the same mink shade as her dad’s, and both Harv’s daughters had inherited the man’s stubborn chin. Rafe was pleased to learn that Kit had called her father, glad she was letting him and Harv help her.

  The days passed in a blur of bad coffee, medical updates, an emotional seesaw of alarm and relief. Kit looked worried but never became overtly upset. Just handled everything in her cool way and looked increasingly gaunt.

  By the fourth day, Liz was recovering well enough from the surgery and a mild pneumonia that they removed her chest tube and transferred her to a regular floor. Despite Liz’s progress and the fact that Harv was there, Rafe was the only one who could convince Kit to leave her sister’s room. To eat, walk the grounds, to shower. But he couldn’t get her to sleep, not even when he told her he’d sit with her. He marveled at her composure, her stamina.

  He loved her. The words he hadn’t let himself think for so long burned in his chest. He’d always loved her, figured he always would. Wanted to get her off somewhere alone and tell her, show her, but now wasn’t the time.

  She remained upbeat with him, steady with Liz. Still, Rafe sensed a subtle shift in her. Because of all the medical commotion, dealing with the police and Tony’s parole officer and getting updates from his uncle on the case against Alexander, Rafe couldn’t put his finger on what it was about Kit that seemed off. It was something he should recognize, but he didn’t.

  She was incredible, so strong. He’d always recognized her independence, but he’d never given her credit for what those years of self-sufficiency had done for her. She was the core of her family, made all the decisions for Liz’s care, made sure her father slept and ate regularly, even when she didn’t. She never wavered.

  Until the fourth day. Even though it was just past sunrise, Rafe had been outside talking to his uncle on the cell phone. The FBI was waiting on Tony and his evidence. Once they had it, they planned to pick up Steve Alexander, whose name was really Sergio Alejandro. Rafe should get home, but Kit needed him.

  He walked in from the parking lot, the tap of his boots echoing on the tiled lobby floor. The doctors had pronounced Liz out of danger early this morning and said she looked as if she would recover fine, but they wanted to keep her at least two more days. He didn’t want to leave Kit but didn’t see how he could put it off after tomorrow.

  Pride filled him that she had, at last, allowed herself to lean on him. Even so, she hadn’t cried, had barely expressed anger or shock over what had happened to Liz. She’d been as steady as the mountains surrounding them. Spending time with Liz, time with him.

  Needing to stretch his legs, he took the stairs rather than the elevator to the third floor. As he stepped into the empty corridor, the squeaking clank of a food cart drew his attention. An orderly and the cart he wheeled disappeared around the corner toward the nurses’ station.

  Rafe saw Kit leaning against the wall ahead of him. She stood with her back to him. Her shoulders looked slight in the coral linen cropped top she wore; the slim capri pants hung loosely on her. Had she lost weight?

  She was so still that for a moment he thought she might be asleep, then she reached up to rub her temple.

  He walked toward her, glad she was taking a minute for herself. Her legs buckled and she wobbled suddenly. He lunged for her.

  “Whoa, darlin’.” He caught her arm, steadied her. “You okay?”

  “Yes.” She smiled brightly, but it looked like a desperate effort to him. Exhaustion lined her pale face. Dark circles ringed her eyes.

  “You need to get some rest.”

  “I’m fine. I took a nap a while ago.”

  “Liar,” he said softly, gathering her to him. He spotted a couple of empty chairs in a small alcove by the stairs and walked her there.

  Sitting in one of them, he pulled her onto his lap.

  “Rafe,” she protested. “I’m fine.”

  “Just sit here for a minute.” He pressed her head to his chest. She looked like she was about to crumble. “Everything’s under control. Your dad’s with Liz. Just take a minute.”

  “I want to be with you, talk to you.”

  “We can be together right here, like this. Why don’t you close your eyes for a while?”

  “I don’t want to sleep. I’m doing all right,” she said stiffly.

  “Yes, you are.” He moved one hand up and down her arm, kneaded the nape of her neck, trying to loosen the tension he felt bowing her back and shoulders.

  She stared at him for a moment, the determination in her eyes giving way to resignation. Finally, she rested her head on his shoulder and let out a deep breath.

  “You’re one amazing woman, Kit Foley, and you’ve been strong for everyone, but it’s okay if you want to cry. Or get mad. There’s only you and me here.”

  “I’m fine, really.” She sat up, flashed a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Did I already thank you?”

  “About a hundred times.” Breathing in the soft shampoo scent of her hair, he narrowed his eyes. There it was again, that fleeting sense that something was wrong.

  “She was almost out of danger,” Kit murmured. “Almost.”

  He tipped her chin up with one knuckle. “You know that wasn’t your fault. You’re not blaming yourself.”

  “No. I know it wasn’t my fault. And I know it wasn’t your bullet. I know where it came from. You were firing away from her.”

  “Good.” He was glad she’d reached the same conclusion as the local police. He would die if he thought she believed it had been his shot that wounded her sister.

  He resumed his soft massage of her neck.

  “Tell me what your uncle said.” She began to relax against him. “Tell me what the FBI is doing about Alexander.”

  With all that had been going on, Rafe hadn’t given her the latest developments on the case. She did know that Tony had been remanded into his custody by Oklahoma’s parole board, and now that Liz had been pronounced out of danger, Rafe would take Tony home.

  “The
FBI is ready for Tony. They’ve been surveilling Alexander and are ready to move as soon as they see what Tony has on him.”

  “What’s his real name?” She stifled a yawn.

  “Sergio Alejandro.”

  “Is he really connected to the mob, like Liz said?”

  “Looks that way. He changed his name to Steve Alexander so that his Mafia ties to a Boston crime family wouldn’t be so apparent. He moved into the Midwest five years ago and has been taking over territory in Oklahoma and Texas.”

  She let out a deep breath. “Wow. My sister can pick them, can’t she?”

  He chuckled, kneading the tight muscles in her shoulders.

  “Thanks for the massage.” She pressed a kiss to his lips.

  He pulled her closer, but didn’t deepen the kiss. He wanted more, but not here, not now.

  “I’m good to sit with my sister for another hour. Then maybe you and I can eat or something? I can give you an hour, too.”

  “I wish you’d sleep. I’ll sit with you.”

  “I don’t want to spend our time together sleeping. I want to be with you.” She kissed him again, then stood.

  He rose, watching her thoughtfully as she turned and walked around the corner, her footsteps echoing on the tile.

  I can give you an hour, too.

  Her words bounced back, triggered that sense of something being off. Mentally flipping through the last few days, he realized how she’d gone between him and her sister with the measured regularity of a metronome. Like a checklist. Time with Liz. Time with Rafe.

  It all fell into place then. His own words to her at the creek crashed back.

  I want all of you. You can’t commit to me. I was always there for you. You were never there for me.

  She’d sworn she was ready to walk away from the responsibility of her sister—for him. Sworn that she wanted to choose him over that responsibility.

  He’d thought by being here with her, he was supporting her. But when she should’ve been focused solely on Liz, she felt she had to give him equal time. She was choosing between them, and she didn’t have to.

  He groaned, sank down in the chair. What had he done? Now he could see how she carefully rationed her time between them like the last bit of water in a drought.

  If he hadn’t come upon her in the hallway, he doubted he would have seen the toll this was taking on her. She certainly wouldn’t have knowingly shown him. Between the time she spent with Liz and the time she spent with him, she was driving herself into the ground.

  He had told himself he was helping her, told himself that he was the only reason she hadn’t fallen apart. That he was the one who kept her on an even keel. What a lie. His presence presented a distraction for her, a demand on her time she didn’t need. This constant juggling act wasn’t what he wanted for her, this feeling that she had to choose between him and her family. Was this how it would always be?

  A sharp pain pushed up under his ribs. He couldn’t watch her tear herself apart like this. He didn’t want that for her, for either of them. Even though he might lose her forever, he knew what he had to do.

  Chapter 14

  “You’re leaving? But why?” Kit demanded, panic flashing across her delicate features.

  A little over an hour later, they once again stood in the small alcove by the stairwell.

  Rafe had asked her to walk with him. It had taken him four flights of stairs and a cup of coffee to get the nerve to tell her.

  “It’s time. I need to take Tony back.” He wasn’t sure how to say it, but he knew he had to tell her. The timing couldn’t be worse, but he couldn’t stand by and watch her drive herself into the ground. He knew she would never say anything about it, much less admit it. It was up to him.

  “I thought you could stay until tomorrow.” She searched his face intently. “I thought Tony’s parole officer wasn’t expecting you back until tomorrow night.”

  She paused, indecision flitting through her eyes, then she said, “I can go with you.”

  “No.” He hadn’t expected that, hated the dilemma he read on her face. “It’s too soon. Liz can’t leave—”

  “My dad can stay.”

  “That would kill you, Kit.” He took her empty coffee cup, walked to the wall and tossed both his and hers into the trash bin.

  “But what about us?” She followed him. Mid-morning sun streamed through the window, picking out the blue in her eyes. “I don’t want to give up. I want this to work. I can make it work.”

  He turned, gently cupped her shoulders. “You’re killing yourself trying to make it work,” he said quietly. “Right now, you shouldn’t be worrying about anyone except Liz.”

  She stiffened. “Are you saying you’ve decided you don’t want me?”

  “No. I haven’t decided anything like that.”

  “Then what—” Her chin lifted. “You don’t trust me. Maybe you never will. At least be honest.”

  “I am, Kit.” He shook her gently, looked straight into her eyes. “Listen to me. I want you in my life. If I didn’t know that before yesterday, I for damn sure know it now, but not like this. When I told you I wanted total commitment from you, I didn’t mean for you to tear yourself apart trying to make everyone happy.”

  She pulled away, her eyes stormy with denial. “You don’t have to leave.”

  “I think that’s the best way I can help.” To keep from reaching for her, he rubbed at the lash of muscles in his neck. “You shouldn’t have to feel torn between me and Liz. You should be focused on her.”

  “I am.”

  “Can’t you see what you’re doing? An hour with her. An hour with me.”

  She blinked, then shook her head. “That’s compromise.”

  “No, Kit. I never should’ve given you an ultimatum that day at the creek. It wasn’t fair.” And now it had jumped up to bite him.

  “This isn’t right, either.” She paced to the stairwell door, then back, worrying her lower lip with her teeth.

  “When I said I wanted your total commitment, I didn’t mean this.”

  “What did you mean then?”

  “I never thought it would come to this, Kit. You shouldn’t have to choose, darlin’.”

  “I don’t feel that I am,” she said hotly, planting her hands on her hips.

  He gave her a level look until finally she tossed her hands in the air. “Okay, maybe I do feel that way right now, but Liz is healing. What about afterward?”

  “I have a lot of things I want to say to you. Need to say. But now’s not the time. You’ve got too much on your shoulders right now. When Liz gets better, we’ll talk. There’s time enough for that then.”

  The anger drained out of her face; she looked at him sadly. “Will we be able to work this out?”

  “I hope so.”

  Pain and uncertainty welled in her eyes. “Can I call you?”

  “You’d better.” He pulled her to him, folded his arms around her. He wanted to be there for her, but instead he was in the way.

  Her arms tightened around him. He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her against him, the silk of her hair tickling his jaw. He didn’t want to go, but he couldn’t stay. “How much longer do you think they’ll keep Liz?”

  “Maybe only another two more days. I’ll let you know.”

  He drew back, searched her face. “I’m counting on it.”

  She nodded, the vulnerability in her liquid blue eyes tugging at his heart. He dipped his head, covered her mouth with his. She rose on tiptoe, fitting herself tight against him. Her hand moved to his nape, pressed him closer. The kiss was long and slow, making it even more difficult to stick to his decision. He ached clear down to his toes.

  She made a little sound and pulled away. Tears glimmered in her eyes. “I wish you weren’t going.”

  “Me, too.” That was the hell of it.

  She framed his face in her hands. “We’ll talk?”

  “Definitely.” Pulling her to him, he took her mouth again, devouring this
time, intense and savage, frantic to possess her. She kissed him back with a desperation that clutched at his heart.

  “You’ve got my cell phone number.” He breathed against her forehead when they came up for air.

  “Yes.”

  “And my office and home numbers.”

  “I’ll call. Be careful. Will you let me know when you get home?”

  “Yes.”

  He walked her to Liz’s room then kissed her goodbye, wondering if it was for the last time. As he and Tony drove away from the hospital, Rafe couldn’t help feeling as if he were leaving his future in that third-floor room. But he couldn’t make her choose, even if it meant they would never be together.

  Rafe had left her. Two hours later, Kit stood at the single window in Liz’s hospital room, wanting to hope, but uncertain. Her hands curled over the sill, painted the same misty green as the room. The walls, along with coordinating pastel floral prints above and across from Liz’s bed, were chosen to soothe, but they couldn’t calm Kit’s churning thoughts.

  Rafe had said they would talk after this, that he had things to tell her. She hoped he wanted to tell her he loved her, that he wanted another chance with her, just as she did with him. But what if he wanted to tell her just the opposite?

  Was this the end? He thought she couldn’t balance her time between him and her family. She thought she’d been doing a pretty darn good job of it. The concern, the regret in his eyes as he’d said goodbye told her he really believed leaving was the best thing.

  Eyes burning with fatigue, she stared at the sunshine, remembering the pain in his face, the possessive promise in his kiss. Had he been right about her? She could see how she had been meticulous about making sure neither Rafe nor Liz felt slighted or ignored.

  “Why don’t you go after him?” Liz said from her bed.

  Kit turned to look at her sister, still not used to the sight of Liz’s short, platinum hair. This was the first time Liz had ever said anything about a man she’d dated. “We have things to work out.”