Outside, kid and beast were more tangled than she expected. She handed Taylor her drink and went to work, but the retractable leash had somehow ended up fully extended and was in knots. “What did you two do?” she asked as she tried to extract little Matthew from the tangled nylon strap.
The boy shrugged with all the innocence of childhood. Made her ache inside, to think of Jax and his note.
“I’m not sure what happened,” Matthew said.
Murphy barked. Whether in agreement or dissidence, Ellie wasn’t sure.
“You can see the guilt all over his snout,” Taylor said. “The dog, I mean. Not the kid.”
Ellie blew a frustrated breath as Murphy ran yet another circle, further worsening the mess. The leash was wound so thoroughly around Matthew’s arm that she’d never get it undone with Murphy bouncing around. “I’m going to have to unhook the leash. Murphy, sit.”
The dog sat, but not convincingly.
“I mean it,” Ellie warned.
Murphy yawned, and his tongue never made it back in his mouth. He sat there, tongue hanging out in the freezing air, like he hadn’t a clue.
“Idiot,” Ellie muttered. “Here goes nothing. Murphy, stay.”
She unclipped the leash and started unwinding it from the kid, keeping one eye on the dog. He sat serenely…at least long enough for her to get almost as tangled in the leash as Matthew. Then his butt started to wriggle, and pretty soon he was on his feet.
“Murphy, sit.”
He lunged like she’d ordered it, his unruly mixed-breed hide bounding joyfully through the snow.
Ellie’s hands were all but tied. Literally.
Taylor dropped the coffee making a grab for him and missed. “Shit…er, crap.”
“I’ve got him,” Ellie said, disengaging as quickly as she could. “Help Matthew, would you?”
Taylor shook off the coffee that had splattered her and went to work.
Ellie turned in time to see Murphy take off after a rabbit. Great. She responded with a shrill whistle. To her surprise, Murphy stopped, then turned and tore back across the snow toward her.
“Must have cold feet,” Taylor said. “Either that or that dog has some sense after all.”
Ellie barely heard her. The sound of an approaching car caught her attention, and with horror she realized it was moving fast. She tried jumping and waving, but the driver didn’t appear to notice her. The dog didn’t seem to notice the car. Oh, God.
Ellie darted across the road at the same time Murphy did.
No time.
It was her last thought before a bone-crushing impact brought her to her knees.
Chapter Fourteen
Jax had been playing quarter slots, two dollars at a time, for the better part of a month. It was ridiculous, really, but he found a semblance of peace there. Not much, but he’d take it. He didn’t have much else to do. Focker was back to wherever cover models did their thing, and Jax had gotten some kind of citizen’s accommodation for tackling the gunman. He’d barely looked at the paper before tossing it on a pile of junk mail keeping the dust off his end table, then proceeded to turn down every job offered him. He had money, didn’t need it. What he needed was the drive to go out there. Risk everything.
What he needed was Colorado.
He needed a mountain to climb.
Her words haunted him. So did her touch. Her eyes. Her fucking uterus. He couldn’t work—not like that. Not wondering if he might leave the world with his kid in it. He’d googled and now knew more about fertility than he ever cared to. Enough to know that Ellie should have known within two or three weeks of leaving if she was pregnant with his child.
And he’d counted five.
He’d dreamed of her every night. Sometimes of losing her, but mostly of holding her. Holding on. But he’d left her a note, and then he’d watched her go.
He’d fucking watched her go.
Every thought of that moment nearly killed him. At the time he thought he was being strong. Thinking of someone other than himself for once. Making a sacrifice. Maybe he was and maybe all that was true, but no amount of rationalization changed the fact that he’d let her go. Hadn’t fought. Hadn’t tried.
Just watched.
He’d given up bacon. Had a new favorite T-shirt, but he didn’t wash it. Didn’t wear it. Just kept it on his pillow, inhaling her scent. He hadn’t been back to the park since the day the sunset had filled her eyes. He thought about going back, but knowing she wouldn’t be there made it impossible to put one foot in front of the other. He was done with the desert.
The mountains called him. He thought about one in particular and wondered how he’d feel up there now that the view had changed. The ache in his heart demanded he find out. But he needed Ellie.
He stared at the machine in front of him. In all his years there, he’d never quite figured out which pictures constituted a jackpot and which a loss. The days of three pictures calling the shots were long gone. Now dozens of images crowded the screen, none of them meaning anything to him.
Nothing did.
His phone dinged. He almost didn’t check.
But he did.
Colorado, the screen read. He clicked the notification and her message filled the screen.
At the emergency room. Bad news. Don’t want to be alone. There are some things I should say. Can we talk?
He stared at the words, and in one brief second he translated them a thousand different ways. But only one thing mattered.
Ellie needed him.
He didn’t stop to cash out his credits on the machine. Didn’t go home to pack. Just ran out of the casino and grabbed the first cab he saw. On the way to the airport, he searched flights. The next one to Vail was six hours via fucking Dallas, but he could be in Denver in less than two. He booked it via his phone. If he didn’t miss the flight, he’d be on the ground in two and a half hours. He’d rent a car and be…where? He couldn’t remember where she lived—only that he’d never heard of the town—but he knew she worked in Vail. He’d start there. He’d have a two hour drive from Denver, but he’d need the time on the ground. That particular come to Jesus moment was long overdue.
Overdue, but it wouldn’t be easy.
Curbside at McCarran, he paid and tipped the cabbie and hot footed it to check in. The line was blessedly nonexistent but the ticket agent was talkative. He bit his tongue. At some point she realized his plane was going to leave the gate at any minute and finally let him through.
He made it past security. Boarded the plane with nothing but his wallet and his cell phone. He must have looked crazy enough all strung out on coffee and memories that if anyone was supposed to sit next to him, they didn’t. He wasn’t even wearing a jacket. Not ideal for Denver in February—let alone a few thousand feet higher in Vail—but there was nothing that could happen when he got there that would leave him caring if his arms were cold. Either Ellie would want him or she wouldn’t. Regardless, the weather would be the least of his worries.
Not until the plane ate up the tarmac and lifted off did the enormity of what he was doing hit him. Two months ago, he couldn’t have imagined anything important enough to get him back to Colorado. Back then, stepping a toe across the state line would have brought him to his knees. Going to the mountains wouldn’t have happened. Not for any reason.
Now he had one, and he just hoped it wasn’t too late to tell her.
From the air, despite the miles between them, the desert morphed into the snow-covered Rockies far too quickly. He looked at the peaks without seeing them, wondering which one was Gracie’s without really wanting to know. When he closed his eyes he saw that red hat disappearing under the churning snow and ice.
When he opened them, he saw Ellie.
The woman he loved.
He fucking loved Ellie.
And he’d lost her. He’d more than lost her…he’d pushed her. Watched her go, too afraid of what he felt for her to try to stop her from leaving.
And then what?
The words had been his mantra, day in, day out. Everything he wanted to say, wanted to do, had always ended up in that same place. Then what. Because he couldn’t change who he was. Couldn’t change what he’d lost. The more he wanted her, the more he realized he didn’t deserve her. But damned if anyone else did. No one could love her like he did. He made a mental note not to lead with that. It sounded stalkerish and a little creepy, especially if he hit his knees and started begging.
But first she had to be okay.
The plane touched down in more of a controlled wreck than an actual landing. The pilot, who had clearly missed his calling as a Las Vegas cab driver, joked over the intercom about the thin air in the Mile High City and made Jax exceptionally happy he hadn’t booked a return trip. He didn’t think his stomach could handle it. Yeah, just stay here. Where he’d lost Gracie.
Where he stood to lose Ellie. Maybe he already had.
After he cleared the jetway, he rented an SUV and pointed it west. He had one stop to make, and he made it count. Then he hit I-70, cursed the construction all the way to the city line, and then pushed the hell out of the speed limit. The road, four lanes winding at steep inclines through sheer rock faces and blankets of snow, should have been his worst nightmare, but it was the unknown at the other end of his journey that got to him. He wondered if she’d texted him again, but he didn’t dare look. Not with his tires eating up the miles at breakneck speed.
By the time he found the exit for the hospital, his heart was in his throat. And he wasn’t even sure it actually was the right exit for the right hospital…just that there was a chance. He prayed Ellie was okay. Even if she hated him, he just wanted her to be okay.
He found a parking spot halfway occupied by plowed snow and parked there anyway. Exiting the SUV required equal parts skill and luck, but he managed not to break his neck on the way to the pavement, after which he sprinted to the building. He tore through the emergency room doors, nearly knocking an EMT off his feet. Over on a bank of waiting room chairs, a kid started crying. The god-awful smell of antiseptic and cleaning chemicals assaulted him. He barreled toward the admissions desk. “Ellie Montgomery. Where is she?”
The young blond woman at the admissions desk gave him one of those long, slow looks that belonged in chick flicks and romance novels, and most certainly not in emergency rooms. “Well, hot damn,” she said after a moment. “You’re Vegas.”
More of an accusation than a statement. But clearly she knew about him, which might work in his favor. Or maybe not. The light bulb went off. “You’re Taylor.”
“Way to read my name tag, genius. Ellie’s not here. Which kind of begs the question, why are you?”
“She told me she was in the emergency room,” he said. “She works here, so I assumed she’d be here.”
“She volunteers here,” Taylor corrected with absolutely no angst in her voice. “She works on the mountain. And wrong emergency room.”
He fought for patience. Ellie had to be okay, or her friend wouldn’t be giving him hell. Unless Ellie wasn’t okay…especially if she wasn’t okay because of him. “How many can there be around here?”
She crossed her arms and hit him with a masterful glare. “At least one more.”
“Which hospital?”
“Why should I tell you?”
“Because she sent me a goddamn text, that’s why!” Several people turned to look. The kid had stopped crying to stare. The woman with him wore a death glare. Across from them, an old woman’s brow disappeared into her blue hair. Jax bit his tongue. Lowering his voice a notch he said, “Look, I’m sorry. She sent me a text saying she didn’t want to be alone. I’ll show you if you want. Anything. Just please tell me where I can find her.”
Taylor sighed. “I think this is the part where I threaten your balls if you hurt her, but I’m pretty sure the water under that particular bridge is mightier than the Colorado.”
He stared evenly. “The Colorado River is a stream here—one you can cross on foot. What’s your point?”
The woman tried to bury a smile and lost. “I almost like you, Vegas. But I’m serious. She’s not in a good place right now, so if you barrel in there…wait. Why didn’t she tell you where to go? Does she even know you’re here?”
“No. And she’s not going to if you don’t tell me where to find her.”
“She texted you and you didn’t reply?”
“I came.” The words clogged his throat. Questions followed. Was Ellie pregnant? Had she lost their baby? He wanted to ask, but he didn’t want to violate her privacy. “I need to see her. Please.”
The woman studied him for an endless minute, then sighed. “She’s at this animal hospital. Head west.” She scrawled a name on a pad of paper and tore off the sheet. Reminded him of how he’d left Ellie.
Animal hospital. He blinked. “She’s okay?”
“No, you asshole.” Taylor glared, leaving no room to doubt what she thought of Jax. “She’s absolutely not okay, but you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”
Relief evaporated. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. Just do right by her.”
“That’s the plan.” He took the paper and took off running. After a harrowing climb back into the SUV, he searched the animal hospital and memorized the way to get there. Then he floored it…but only until he hit the legal speed limit. No point in wasting time on the side of the road in front of highway patrol.
He found the place within a few minutes. Managed a more conventional parking spot this time. And froze. This was it.
This was the rest of his life.
He snatched the keys out of the ignition, took a deep breath, and headed inside.
Chapter Fifteen
Ellie leaned back in the waiting room chair and tried to breathe. Murphy would be fine. A broken leg—certainly not a cause for relief, but it could have been worse. It had been a simple break, so if all went well and he halfway behaved while it healed, he’d get to keep his leg. He was out of surgery and doing fine, but she couldn’t go home. There wasn’t anything there for her except an empty house, devoid of everything but memories that didn’t belong there. Murphy had at least provided a distraction. Without him careening around corners and tripping over his own legs, the silence would be agonizing.
The door chimed, followed by a rush of cold air. After sitting there for hours, she was well acquainted with what happened next. The dogs in the waiting area would start barking and anyone unfortunate enough to be holding a cat, sans the carrier, would get a lap full of claw marks. She didn’t look up. Didn’t need to see it again.
But something made her look anyway.
Right into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.
“Oh, God. You’re here.” But even though she said the words, she couldn’t believe them. She didn’t move. Just saw herself running across the room into a mirage, because there was no way in hell Wolverine wanted anything to do with these mountains. Either she had the cruelest imagination ever, or…
“Colorado.” Four syllables were all he said before he was in the seat beside her, his strong arms holding her like they never had before. Protectively, like he knew. Like he thought he could be that man he swore he couldn’t. The emotional wall against which she’d leaned all day collapsed and the tears fell.
Sobs shook her, but still he held on. Not a word. Not a word needed. He just held her and let her cry. Finally she caught her breath. “You came?”
“Yes, baby. I came.”
“You can’t reply to a text?”
He laughed quietly and pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes. “Didn’t seem like it would be enough. What happened?”
“My dog was hit by a car. He has a broken leg, but he’ll be okay. I didn’t mean for you…I didn’t know you’d come. How did you find me?”
“I went to the ER, where apparently my reputation precedes me. I met Taylor, who quite clearly no longer thinks you’re as lucky as she did that night at the hotel. Any chance you could cal
l her off?”
She gave a watery laugh. “She doesn’t listen any better than Murphy does, I’m afraid.”
“Your dog.”
“The one and only. Short for Murphy’s Law, which pretty much sums him up. If something can go wrong, it will. I found him a couple of years ago with his tongue stuck to a light pole. Put up fliers and everything, but no one claimed him so I kept him.”
“That actually happens?”
She nodded, still not quite believing Jax was there. “Yes. Every stupid thing that can happen has happened to that dog. As well as a few things that shouldn’t.”
“But he’s okay?” Worry clouded his eyes.
“He will be.”
Jax smiled, and while she believed it genuine, he seemed distracted. “Okay. Good. Can I get you some coffee or something?”
Oh, God. This was it. The part where he looked around, saw where he was, and was on the next flight out of there. It mattered that he’d come—it meant a lot—but soon he’d leave and she’d just have to get over him all over again. The realization hung heavily in the brittle air. “You did not come all the way here to get me coffee.”
“No. I came to ask…” He looked around. Lowered his voice. “Are you…?”
She shook her head, her heart breaking. Was that was this was about? “No,” she said. “I’m not.”
“Good.”
Her heart fell. Crumbled. A pregnancy wasn’t ideal, but witnessing his relief firsthand tore what was left of her embattled heart. “You could have saved yourself a trip. I would have gladly told you that via text.”
“No, that came out wrong. What I meant was good, because I didn’t want you to question my motivation for what I’m about to do.” He looked toward the windows. Jagged peaks painted in late day sun made for a beautiful view for anyone else, but she couldn’t image how much the view must hurt him.
And he’d come anyway.
Gambling on the Bodyguard Page 14
