by B. J Daniels
She hurriedly pulled up her jeans as she heard sirens in the distance. Rafael hadn’t raped her. But he’d come so close that she could still feel his weight on her...
“Did he...?” Darby asked, his words slurred. He leaned against the wall. She could see that he was having trouble staying conscious.
She shook her head as she looked down at the dead man at her feet. Then, as if the effort was all the strength he had, Darby stumbled back and slumped to the floor. “Darby!” He didn’t move. He didn’t answer.
Mariah shoved past Rafael. She knew he was dead but a part of her imagined his hand snaking out, grabbing her ankle, pulling her back to him. And what if this time she wouldn’t be able to escape?
Rafael had been this evil threat hanging over her for so long that she couldn’t believe it was over. He lay on the floor, unmoving. She took a step toward Darby, then another. To her surprise, the knife was still gripped in her bloody hand. Her fingers felt glued to it.
She reached Darby and dropped to her knees beside him. Opening her fingers she let the knife drop to the floor. She touched her blood-free hand to his chest, praying he was still alive. She felt the rise and fall of his chest.
He was still breathing. She could hear the sirens growing closer and closer. Outside a car door slammed. She looked over at Rafael. His eyes were open, but unseeing. He lay in a pool of his own blood. He wouldn’t be coming after her ever again.
Slowly, she lay down beside Darby on the floor, curling herself around him. She closed her eyes. Inside the saloon, the only thing she heard was the pounding of her heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
MARIAH HAD NEVER killed anyone before. She felt numb as she answered the questions from first the sheriff and then a crime scene crew out of Billings. It seemed that she must have repeated her story twenty times before they finally let her get cleaned up.
By then it was afternoon. Flint had insisted she come back to his house and try to get some rest. But she’d been too exhausted to sleep. She’d finally gotten up and gone to the hospital. She needed to be with Darby.
Flint had assured her that Darby was going to make it. He’d been shot, but no vital organs had been hit. He’d lost a lot of blood and he had a concussion, but the doctors were taking good care of him.
Mariah had to see for herself. She walked the few blocks from Flint’s house to the hospital and entered the emergency exit. “I need to see Darby Cahill.”
The nurse started to argue that she had to wait until visiting hours, but then stopped as if she’d finally taken in Mariah’s injuries and realized who she was. Word traveled fast in a small town. The nurse’s gaze became compassionate. “Come on. I’ll show you to his room.”
The hospital room was dark except for the medical devices Darby was hooked up to. She listened to the steady beat on the screen next to him as she moved toward the bed. His eyes were closed. He was breathing softly. She pulled up the chair next to the bed and sat down, lowering her head to the mattress as she took his free hand.
The nurse said something about her not staying but a few minutes. Mariah didn’t remember anything after that. Listening to the machines and Darby’s breathing, she closed her eyes and slept.
* * *
DARBY WOKE TO find Mariah sound asleep in the chair next to his bed. He felt a start until he looked into her face. She was all right. He couldn’t remember everything that had happened last night. His head ached, he felt groggy and his side felt as if it was on fire.
All that mattered was Mariah. Her beautiful face was bruised, her lip bloodied and one eye black and swollen, but she was alive.
She opened her eyes, blinking as if surprised to see him awake. “Oh, Darby, I’m so sorry.” She was on her feet and pressing her face into his neck, crying. He put his arm on his uninjured side around her.
“You’re all right. That’s all I care about,” he said quickly.
She pulled back to look at him. “You saved me.”
He smiled. “I’m glad to hear that. Truthfully, I don’t remember much.”
Mariah quickly told him what had happened. He listened, horrified at how close Rafael had come to not just raping her, but killing them both.
“What about Harp?” he finally asked.
“He’s going to make it. Like you, he has a concussion. Flint said he’s just glad to be alive.”
“I know that feeling.” He squeezed her hand. “And Rafael?”
She swallowed. “Dead. Angel too. Harp shot him.” Tears filled her eyes. “Angel didn’t want to be involved in this. Rafael...” She seemed unable to continue.
“Well, it’s over now, right?”
She nodded, looking away as she did.
He felt something tighten in his gut. It was over, wasn’t it?
“Good, you’re back with us,” the doctor said when he came in. “If you can give us just a minute,” he said to Mariah.
She dried her tears and said she would be just down the hall.
“How are you feeling?” the doctor asked after she’d left.
“My head hurts.” Darby touched the bandage.
“I would imagine it does. You suffered a concussion and were unconscious for quite a while. Do you remember what happened?”
“Bits and pieces. That’s all.”
The doctor nodded. “Your family is here, but I think it would be better not to have them all in here demanding answers.”
Darby smiled through the pain. “Thanks, Doc.”
“So I’ll let them come in, see that you are all right and then send them on their way, how’s that?”
He nodded, and then stopped himself. “I want to see Mariah, though.”
The doctor smiled. “Just don’t let her tax you too much.”
Hawk, Cyrus and Lillie all came in along with Trask, Lillie’s fiancé, but were quickly shooed out by the doctor. Flint came in last. He had on his sheriff’s face so Darby knew it was bad.
“Mariah filled me in on what happened—at least what she knew,” Darby said.
“You don’t remember?”
“Not much. She said Harp has a concussion?”
“Yep, he’s the town hero now.” Flint shook his head. “How are you feeling?”
“I’ve been better. I’m just worried about Mariah. Are you sure there isn’t anyone else out there from Rafael’s family who wants to hurt her?”
“I’ve spoken with his family. Once they heard what he did... I don’t think there will be any more trouble from them. Mariah’s staying with me. Right now, the saloon is a crime scene. It will be a while before you can reopen.”
He wasn’t worried about the saloon. “Mariah told me that Rafael is dead?”
Flint nodded. “Mariah killed him.”
“Did he...”
“She has a few scrapes and cuts, but she wasn’t seriously hurt.”
He thought of the bruises on her face. They would heal. The rest would take longer.
“You’re going to be all right, the doctor said. The DCI will want to talk to you now that you’re conscious.”
“Is Mariah still out there?”
Flint smiled. “She hasn’t left your side except when I insisted she try to get some rest at my house. As it was, she left to come down here. I found her sleeping in a chair next to your bed. I hope now that you’re awake, we can get some food in her and she’ll agree to continue staying at my house. I’ll let her come in and say goodbye, but then I’m insisting she get some food.”
Now that he knew Mariah was all right, Darby nodded. He closed his eyes again. He couldn’t remember ever being this tired. Rafael was dead. So was his cousin. He hated to think what repercussions that would have for Mariah. Was she safe now? Or would other members of the Roma community want blood?
On
e thing was clear. She could never go back even if she wanted to. She wouldn’t want to, would she?
* * *
VICKI FOUND HARP’S hospital room but didn’t go inside right away. She stood just to the side of the doorway looking in at him. His eyes were closed and, as badly beaten as he was, he looked...peaceful.
She realized he would have looked like this in his casket. He’d almost died. That thought made her feel sick to her stomach. Actually just about everything did.
Now people were calling him a hero. If he hadn’t saved the day, Darby Cahill and Mariah Ayers would be dead right now. She knew how proud he must feel. Wasn’t this what he dreamed would happen? That he would show the sheriff that he deserved more respect? That he would finally get the recognition he deserved?
She was happy for him, but worried he would no longer be interested in some skinny waitress at Sue’s Diner.
As if sensing her, his eyes opened. He looked surprised to see her, but seemingly happy too. He lifted a hand and waved her in, motioning for her to close the door behind her.
Hesitantly she entered with the little flowerpot she’d picked up and the piece of pie Sue had sent with her. Apple, Harp’s favorite. She put the flowerpot and pie down on the table next to his bed.
He reached out his hand to her, and to her surprise, she saw tears well in his eyes. She took his hand. He squeezed hers so hard she almost cried out as he pulled her to his side.
“It is so good to see you,” he said, sounding as if he was choking on tears. He cleared his throat. “You heard?”
She nodded. “You’re a hero.”
He grimaced, closed his eyes and shook his head. When he opened them, he said, “I’m sorry we didn’t get to have that talk.” His gaze searched hers. “Is it what I think?”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m pregnant.”
He let out a laugh and for a moment she didn’t know how to take it. “That is the best news I think I’ve ever heard.” He squeezed her hand a little more gently. “We should get married.”
“Really?” Vicki had heard him say those words, but only in her wildest dreams. She’d imagined this conversation going a few completely different ways. “You mean it?”
He nodded. “There’s something I have to tell you first.” Harp glanced toward the door, before returning his gaze to hers. “I’m no hero, so if you think you’re marrying one...” His voice broke again. “You need to know the truth. Our baby...” He cleared his throat again and made a swipe at his tears with his free hand. “Promise you won’t ever tell anyone?”
She nodded and took his hand in both of hers, bracing herself as she listened to his side of the story.
“Still, if you hadn’t radioed in when you did—”
“I almost didn’t. I was so scared. I told everyone that I went back into the trees because I thought it might be the man after Mariah and that I got jumped by them. I thought they were going to kill me.”
Vicki leaned down to kiss his cheek. “Anyone would have been scared, Harp. You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.”
“You think?”
“I know. You did the right thing. Maybe it didn’t start out that way, but you helped save those people’s lives.”
He nodded and gave her a weak smile. “You won’t ever tell?” He sounded as if he might already be regretting telling her the real reason he’d gone to check on the van parked in the woods. “The sheriff was by earlier. Thanked me. Actually thanked me. Usually he just cusses me out and threatens to fire me.”
“Well, all that’s changed now,” she said. “You’ll get the respect you deserve. He might even buy us a wedding present.”
Harp met her gaze as if it was finally sinking in. “Right. A wedding. A baby.” He took a shuddering breath. “Once I get on my feet. Could be a while.”
* * *
“WAYNE, DO YOU have a moment?” Flint asked as he entered the office building that afternoon and caught Wayne Duma heading out. He had a lot on his plate, but he wanted to take care of this since it had to be done.
Duma was a large handsome man who had made a lot of money in the real estate business before settling in Gilt Edge, having an affair with Flint’s wife and ultimately marrying Celeste.
The man looked at his expensive watch as if he had places to be, but then looked resigned. “Why don’t we step into my office?” He ushered the sheriff in and closed the door. “I think I know what this is about.”
“You do?” Flint took a chair even though Duma hadn’t offered him one. Had Celeste confessed all? Flint could only hope, but it didn’t sound like her.
Duma walked around his desk and sat down to lean forward as if it was a subject he didn’t want to get into and wanted to make this quick. “Celeste mentioned that you stopped by last night, late, while I was away. I flew back this morning after her call.”
Flint groaned inwardly, realizing from the man’s tone that Celeste had not confessed anything. She’d lied. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but somehow he was. “I’m not sure what she told you but—”
“She told me that you have been...stalking her, that you haven’t gotten over her and that you’re trying to get her back.”
Flint couldn’t help it. He let out a laugh and shook his head. “I came by because someone tried to set Maggie Thompson’s house on fire last night. She identified that person as your wife.”
“I see. If that was true then I would assume you plan to file charges?”
“Wayne, we both know it would be Celeste’s word against Maggie’s, but this isn’t the first time that Maggie’s property has been vandalized. I know it’s Celeste but I can’t prove it and Celeste knows it.”
Duma said nothing as he looked at the floor for a moment before returning his gaze to the sheriff. “Celeste seems to think that you might be dangerous.”
“Okay, I’ve heard enough,” Flint said sitting forward in the chair. “I see how this is going to go. I told her I was going to tell you about what she’d been doing. Apparently she can’t stand that I’m getting serious with Maggie and has been doing everything possible to keep us apart.”
“I really don’t think—”
“Wayne, you don’t know me, but other people in this town do. So ask around. I’m in love with Maggie. I’m going to marry her. I don’t want anything to do with Celeste. I just want her to butt out of my life.”
“Then why would she—”
“Tell you different? Because Celeste is the dangerous one. I suspect you might already know that. She lies.” Duma started to interrupt, but Flint continued. “She lied that night you were hauled down to the sheriff’s office, first saying you struck her, leading us to believe it wasn’t the first time. She wanted us to believe that you physically abused her.” He held up a hand. “I didn’t believe her. But then I know her. And then magically it all came back to her, and no, she recalled that she’d fallen down after you left. She was ready to throw you under the bus, and all because she wanted to interrupt my date with Maggie that night.”
Duma cleared his voice. “I find that—”
“Hard to believe? How about the vandalism at Maggie’s shop?”
“I heard it was kids.”
“Did you also hear what was written on Maggie’s mirror—not Daisy’s—just Maggie’s. That sound like kids to you?” Flint got to his feet, his hat in his hand. “Celeste is sick and I’m afraid of what she might do next. She seems determined to keep Maggie and me apart. But no matter what fool thing she does next, Maggie and I are going to be together.”
“I don’t know what you expect me to do with this information.”
“I’m just here to give you a heads-up. The next time I stop by your house, I fear it will be either to take your wife away in a straightjacket or arrest her for some horrible crime she’s committed agai
nst Maggie. Think about that when you’re sleeping next to her at night. Get her some help.” He tipped his hat and left.
* * *
MARIAH WOKE TO SCREAMING. It took her a moment to realize the sound was coming from her lips.
Darby reached for her. She jerked back as the dream still had her in its grip.
“It was just a nightmare,” he said quietly as he turned on the lamp next to the bed.
She blinked at the sudden brightness. It filled the deep shadows in the room illuminating the apartment and dragging her out of the dream.
She took a few ragged breaths, her body wet with perspiration, and began to tremble.
This time when Darby reached for her, she curled into him, feeling small. She was so thankful to have him home from the hospital. In the days since, she’d hoped the nightmares would stop. Unfortunately, they seemed to be getting worse.
She’d always thought of herself as strong. Right now, she felt vulnerable. Even with Rafael after her, she’d been confident that somehow she could escape him.
She’d underestimated him and it had almost gotten her killed—and Darby, as well. That made her question everything she’d thought about herself.
“You’re safe,” Darby whispered into her hair as she pressed her cheek into his bare chest. “You’re all right, Mariah.”
But she knew she wasn’t. Rafael had followed her into her dreams. Every night he was waiting for her since the night he’d died, that horrible smirk on his handsome face, that murderous look in his black eyes.
Rafael and Angel were dead. Both were funerals Mariah wouldn’t be attending. The tragedy of Angel’s life especially hurt her deeply. Why had he gotten involved in this? Hadn’t he known how badly it would end?
She thought of her uncle. Maybe he hadn’t arranged the marriage for the money. Maybe he really thought Rafael would be a good match for her. Even now, when she was trying to make sense out of all this, she still couldn’t believe that. He’d done it for the money. Maybe he’d thought she could handle Rafael if any woman could. Not that it mattered now.
