by Tina Leonard
In the end, she’d called Steel on her cell phone, praying there was service. He’d been there with Frick and Frack, his deputies, not twenty minutes later. The three men had gotten Declan into the boat, taken him across the creek. Put him in Steel’s truck, driven him into Hawk to the nearest hospital. There’d been no time to take him to Dr. Ann Chandler, who usually tended general health issues in Hell; Steel had known at once Declan would require surgery of a greater magnitude than Ann’s small clinic could provide. Harper had driven Declan’s truck, following Steel, although now she couldn’t recall where she’d parked. Everything had happened so fast, and yet so slowly. She took a deep breath, wishing the doctor would hurry up and let them know that he was going to be all right.
“Don’t worry,” Judy said. “He’s tough as nails. He’s going to be fine.”
Harper’s teeth chattered. She tried to calm her trembling, but she couldn’t.
“I’ll get you some coffee,” Trace said, “I’ll get us all some coffee.”
“I’ve got a flask in the truck,” Saint said. “We’ll get you all fixed up. I’ll be right back.”
The Outlaws disappeared. Harper wished she could calm down.
“Good job getting him out of the creek,” Steel said. “Declan told the doctor the last thing he remembered was going under. And that you must have rescued him.”
She nodded, feeling sick. He’d been like dead weight in her arms as she’d towed him to the bank. There’d been several moments of utter terror when she’d feared she wouldn’t be able to locate him in the dark water; she hadn’t been able to see a thing. Fortunately, he’d fallen in where the squishy clay sloped into the water, not two feet under the water. He still would have drowned, but—
“I don’t want to talk about it. I can’t.” Harper looked at her friends. “I’m sorry.”
Trace came over with a hot cup of coffee in a paper cup, and she took it, sipping it for the warmth. A few minutes later Saint came in, pouring something into her cup.
“Whiskey,” he told her. “Nothing chases the chills like whiskey.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Thank you,” Trace said. “If you hadn’t gone in after our buddy—”
A doctor entered the small waiting area, wearing a tag that read Dr. Matthews. Harper glued her gaze onto him. Her heart felt like it couldn’t beat until she knew Declan was going to be all right.
“You’re the next of kin for Declan O’Rourke?” Dr. Matthews asked.
“Yes, we are,” Steel said. “We’re his family.”
The doctor looked at Steel, glanced at his sheriff’s badge. Moved his gaze to Judy, taking in the big-haired blond beauty. Glanced at Trace and Saint, his eyes locking onto Harper. She felt him study her wet hair, note the blanket over her shoulders. “Are you all right, Miss?”
“Yes,” Harper said. “How is Declan?”
“He came through surgery just fine.” She felt the doctor’s keen gaze assessing her, clearly making the judgment that whatever additional liquid Saint splashed in her cup might help. Harper dutifully sipped at the coffee, which was now more whiskey than joe. “He’ll be in a sling for a while to give his arm a chance to heal. But he’s young, tough, strong. I expect him to recuperate well.” He glanced around the room. “Any idea who did this, Sheriff?”
“Not yet.”
“When can we see him?” Harper asked.
“You can go in right now. He’s in recovery, so you can only stay a moment, but it would be best if only one of you—”
Harper, Steel, Judy, Trace and Saint hurried down the hall to the small area marked Recovery, crowded around Declan’s gurney. Declan stared at them, bleary-eyed.
“The gang’s all here,” he said weakly. Then his eyes locked onto Harper. “Hey, beautiful.”
She felt stronger just seeing his mouth lift in the slightest of smiles. “Hey, Handsome.”
“The doctor says you’re a hero,” Declan told her. “I told him I already knew that.”
She didn’t feel like a hero. “You just rest. The doctor says you’re not going to be doing anything for a while.”
He closed his eyes. “I beg to differ with the good Dr. Matthews. I know what I want to be doing as soon as possible.”
Harper felt blood rush into her cheeks, the first rush of heat she’d had in her body in the hours since she’d dragged Declan to shore. She checked to see if Judy and Steel had caught the subtle meaning in Declan’s words, caught the knowing gaze the mayor sent her sheriff. Saw the pleased grins on Trace’s and Saint’s faces. Well, there weren’t any secrets in Hell, anyway, she decided, and leaned over to kiss him on the mouth.
“Get well. I’ve got to get back. Michael will be wondering where I am.”
“Can you let Toad out?” Declan’s eyes popped open. “He’s in his crate, and by now, he’s probably desperate to go outside. And to eat.”
“He’s with Cameron, remember?” Steel patted Declan’s chest briefly. “Dr. Jack’s also going to feed your yard horses. Don’t worry about a thing.”
Harper slunk from the room while the group continued filling Declan in on their plans for his recuperation, which included meals from Redfeather's, movie nights with Trace and Saint alternating keeping an eye on him, and so on. She went down the hall, glad she’d stopped shaking—finally.
She’d felt better the moment he’d opened those eyes and given her a ghost of a smile.
“Harper!”
She turned. Judy hurried across to where Harper was about to get in Declan’s truck.
“Do you have any idea who did this?” Judy asked.
Harper shook her head. “It was dark. I wasn’t even aware that anyone was at the creek.”
“I always said those boys were going to get in trouble out there.” Judy eyed Harper’s wet hair. “You weren’t with your team.”
Harper nodded. “That’s true. I wasn’t.”
“Is there something I should know?”
“I’m not sure what you’re asking. When Ava, Cameron, and I were a team, you didn’t stay at the Bungalow with us a single night. Why would you ask me about chaperoning my girls?”
“Because rumor has it that you’re not going to be a team much longer.” Judy studied her with a long look. “I just thought you should know so you wouldn’t be surprised.”
“Is there something specific you want to tell me?”
“It’s no secret your team is on the wild side. In the month they’ve been here, Hell’s been a different place. Winter especially has made it clear that she’s looking for more adventure and excitement. She’s also shown she disrespects your authority. She doesn’t really like you, does she?”
Harper stared at Judy. “Why would Winter want to hurt Declan? Because I think I hear that’s what you’re implying.”
“I’m not saying it was Winter. I’m just saying that beyond your team, I don’t know anyone that has that kind of archery skills.”
“That’s not right. There are plenty of hunters in this town.” Her glare could have melted a lesser woman, but Judy gazed at her sympathetically. “I really don’t appreciate what you’re saying. If you think this is helpful, it’s not. My team wouldn’t hurt anyone. Not a soul, Judy.”
“The only reason I bring it up is that sooner or later, Steel’s going to have to talk to them, ask them what they know about what happened tonight. And you know better than anyone that those girls aren’t the type to take to questioning too well. It could get ugly.” She glanced over Harper’s wet hair and sighed. “Go get warm and dressed. I’ll pick Michael up in the morning and bring him to the Training Center. You rest up.”
Harper watched with a sinking heart as the mayor walked across the parking lot. It was true: her team were amazing archers. Winter especially could take out targets standing on the back of a horse. It was amazing to watch her. Harper had always admired her strength, her toughness.
But Winter wouldn’t want to hurt Declan.
Maybe not—unle
ss Fallon wanted her to, a small voice whispered.
A combination of a dare, a wild night, liquor, maybe some drugs, and fireworks at the creek—anything was possible. Steel would have to consider every angle. Harper put the key into the ignition slowly. Surely she was tired, overthinking things. Judy’s words had unsettled her.
But the bad blood between Declan and his twin was longstanding. He said he thought Fallon was trying to change his life—but someone had shot Declan. Who had something to gain by harming him—or worse, killing him?
Chapter Fourteen
Declan was cranky. Two days of lying in his bed at home with his two partners sitting in his room was getting on his nerves. It kept him from getting to talk to Harper the way he wanted to—and he had a lot to say to that sexy lady. “You guys don’t have to do bodyguard duty every day,” he said crustily. “You say you’re visiting, but you’ve never been much for that. You think you’re protecting me, but it’s not necessary, fellows. I’ve got Gypsy.” He patted the border collie on his bed, and she inched closer to him. “She won’t let anything happen to me. Neither will Toad.” Toad was learning from Gypsy, and figuring out his place in his new home. Declan was itching to get out of bed and get on with his life.
He was especially anxious to talk to Harper. Yesterday she’d brought Michael, and he’d sat up straighter in the bed, trying to look big and strong and healthy instead of bedbound, which wasn’t the way any man who considered himself fairly durable and strong wanted to appear. The last thing he wanted Michael to know was that someone had shot him. There was no reason for Michael to know that Hell wasn’t always the safe place it purported itself to be.
Okay, Hell had never really presented itself as a comforting, friendly place to raise a family, or even a little boy growing up in town full of renegades and some outlaws, but what the heck. It was how he wanted Michael to see his world: safe, happy, secure.
God damnit, the way a kid should see the world. The way he would have liked to have viewed the world himself, instead of taking the knocks he had. No, he wanted a different life for Michael.
“It’s necessary to look after your dumb ass a little,” Steel said, walking in and taking a seat. Declan thought his room was beginning to resemble a committee meeting. The guys had dragged the ladderback chairs in from the dining room, and there was now enough seating for a rousing town council session. “You weren’t shot by accident. Buzz looked the arrow over. Definitely not a toy.”
Buzz did the town hair for men and women, owned a garage for car repairs, and had a unique and longstanding interest in weaponry, specifically anything that pertained to hunting. Declan raised a brow.
“So it was an accident. Someone thought they were shooting at a bear or a deer or something,” he said. “All of you can go home now. The mystery is solved.”
“I figure they had night vision goggles,” Trace said, easing himself into a more comfortable sitting position and clearly not going anywhere. “Stands to reason, since the doc said the arrow entered from behind you. And as you were, as I recall the story, buck naked and in the process of chasing a sexy, naked—”
Harper entered, sans Michael. She put her backpack on a chair, handed around a bag of cookies. “From Hattie, with compliments.”
He didn’t want a cookie; he wanted her mouth under his. “Don’t feed them. They’ll never leave. I’m trying to get them to go.”
“I’m feeding them precisely so they’ll stay. The next person that decides to take a shot at you is going to have to go through your Outlaw buddies to do it.” She looked at him steadily, and his heart rate jumped. “You’re just going to have to accept that you’re going to be a little bit dependent for awhile.”
For some reason, Trace and Saint thought that was funny. Steel hid a smile, accepted a cookie from Harper. They were easy marks, gladly taking treats from Hattie and Harper that were designed to soften them, keep them remaining at their guard dog posts.
At this rate, he was never going to get her into bed. And Declan was certain making love to her properly was the last shot he had at convincing her that, even though her team had blown up, and things might be getting a bit weirder in Hell, what she really needed was to stay here.
With me.
“All I need is my Sig and I’ll be fine.” Declan shifted, annoyed. “You guys should be with your families.”
“The bow and arrow,” Saint said to Steel, ignoring Declan. “Who in Hell is trained to hunt with a compound bow?”
Harper went a bit pale. Declan growled, “There’s no reason to discuss this now.”
Steel pulled a small pad from his jacket. “Now’s as good a time as any to discuss suspects. I have the short list right here. Frick and Frack and Judy helped me compile the names of anybody who might want to put Declan out of commission.”
“Good,” Trace said. “From there, we just need to figure out who could fire one, and who might have access to night vision goggles.”
“Night vision goggles?” Harper repeated.
Declan eyed the blush suddenly pinking her face. Now she was going to hit on the obvious: that someone might very well have watched the two of them make love, swing into the creek naked, etc. etc. Which wasn’t going to bode well for her looking back on their first time together with fondness. “I really think we could discuss this when ladies aren’t present,” he growled.
“I want to hear everything,” Harper said quickly. “I need to know.”
Steel nodded. “It’s true, Declan. She could be in danger herself.”
Pain that had nothing to do with his shoulder slammed into him. The last thing he wanted was Harper feeling fear. That was the fastest way to drive her away from Hell—and him. “Jesus, Steel! We don’t even know if it was intentional! I don’t want you scaring Harper to death. It’s hard enough keeping her in Hell as it is.”
Harper’s gaze was on him. Declan shrugged. “So I’m the world’s most selfish bastard. I never hid it.”
Steel looked from Declan to Harper, then back to Declan, just as Trace and Saint did—only Trace and Saint had grins on their faces big enough to split pumpkins.
“Is there something going on I should know about?” Steel asked.
“Besides the fact that Declan doesn’t want Harper and Michael leaving Hell, no.” Saint took another cookie from Harper’s bag as she held it out to him. “For that matter, neither do I. Cameron wouldn’t take it well, either.”
“Were you planning on leaving?” Steel asked curiously.
“I don’t think it’s any secret in town that my team isn’t exactly fond of my leadership.” Harper looked sad about that. Declan felt for her. He knew from experience how demanding and difficult it was if a team wasn’t in the same place the leader was.
Steel nodded slowly. “Judy’s mentioned that. She’d be upset if you decided to leave, though. You’re a big part of Hell.”
It wasn’t like the sheriff to be overly-sentimental, and Declan was surprised. But it was great hearing Steel say exactly how Declan felt—and what he didn’t feel Harper might want to hear from him. Maybe not yet, anyway.
Steel returned to his list, scanning it. “So, listen up, everybody. The short list for anybody who might have had a reason to shoot Declan would be Ivy, and the Horsemen, for starters. I can’t leave Jake Masters, Rebel Wright, Buck St. John, or for that matter, your brother, Fallon, out.”
Declan looked at Harper. Her worried gaze was on his. He shrugged. She needed to defend her team, but she was going to have to make that decision.
“All I can tell you about the Horsemen is that some of them were with my girls that night,” Harper said.
Steel raised a brow. “Specifics?”
“Declan could tell you better,” Harper hedged. “But I don’t think my team would do something like this.”
“They have the shooting skills,” Trace said.
“They’re not dangerous,” Harper retorted. “They full of life, but not necessarily dangerous.”
“They were in reform school at one time,” Declan said reluctantly, and Harper stared at him.
“What are you talking about?” she demanded.
Declan felt any chance of them ever replaying the amazing moments of the other night slipping away. She loved that team like kids loved candy.
“I’m afraid that’s true,” Steel said. “The three of them have had some adventures, both lawless and lawful.”
Harper stared at Steel. “Why don’t I know this?”
“Judy ferreted out the information.” Steel looked chagrined. “She said there was something too tough about those gals, and she looked into them. It’s not hard to find things out about people anymore, with the right connections. I should have figured it out myself.”
Steel had plenty of the “right” connections, thanks to many years in law enforcement and unlimited friends and contacts he’d made over the years. Harper looked devastated. Declan’s heart lurched, felt like it beat raggedly in his chest.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” she asked Steel—but not before she’d looked Declan’s way again.
His heart sank like a stone in water.
“Judy said she didn’t want you to think she had a vendetta out against your girls,” Steel said. “And she said maybe it would all work out. Sometimes folks just need a second chance. Judy’s got a soft heart, though.”
“What’s your reason?” Harper asked Declan.
He swallowed hard. “I didn’t feel it was my place. I was hoping you and your team would get close, and they’d tell you themselves.”
