“You’re in a hospital.” Mark kept his voice hard and firm. “Get back into bed before I give you fifty.”
Judy shot Mark a quick glance of appreciation when Harley obeyed. She didn’t know what fifty meant, but apparently Harley did. It worked.
Shaking and drenched with sweat, he climbed into the bed and collapsed on his pillow, his eyes riveted to Mark. Judy checked Harley’s bandages and pulled the blanket over his bare legs, her own hands shaking plenty. She wanted to comfort him, but he didn’t seem to know her. She held back.
Mark sat at the end of the bed, breathing heavily and Libby still at his side. Her blue eyes darted about the messy room. “Raj sent us. What was he doing out of bed?” she whispered.
Judy could only roll her eyes. Good question. Adrenaline and PTSD? Yeah, not a good combination.
“How you feeling?” Mark grasped Harley’s arm right up to his elbow. His voice softened. “We’ve been worried about you.”
Harley looked away, blinking hard. He looked so confused, and Judy’s heart went out to him. “I don’t know, sir.”
“It’s me. Mark Houston. Remember?”
Harley squeezed his eyes tight, his handsome face contorted with a barrage of conflicting emotions—anger, relief, fear, panic.
She busied herself reattaching his monitor feeds and bandaging the hole he’d left when he jerked out his IV line. Nervous energy pulsed off of him. For a man still recuperating from surgery, he was in no shape to have jumped out of bed like he had. His heart rate had skyrocketed. Mark’s attempt to calm him wasn’t helping.
“Do I know you?” He tilted his head sideways not meeting Mark head-on.
“You were best man at my wedding,” Mark answered warmly.
No recognition lit Harley’s eyes. Only suspicion. Frustration.
“Hey, buddy.” Libby took his other hand as she sat opposite Mark. “You’ll remember me. I know you will. You always tell me I’m unforgettable.”
But Harley only stared at the curly-haired blond holding fast to him, looking like he might pull his hands away from these strangers until he figured things out.
Libby lifted his hand to her cheek. “Come on, Harley. You can’t have forgotten me.”
“No, I…” A guilty look replaced the anger. He blew out a deep sigh, swallowing hard. “It’s just that… Wait. Libby? Is your name Libby?”
“There you go. I knew you’d never forget.”
He dropped Mark’s grip and grabbed her into a hug. “You’re… Libby. Course I remember you, darlin’.”
Judy blinked the tears out of her eyes when Libby pressed her hand gently to the back of his neck, holding him close. That was her place. Not Libby’s.
“And you… You married that jarhead, didn’t you?” he muttered hoarsely. “He’s... Mark. My buddy, Mark Houston, isn’t he?”
“That’s right,” Mark said.
“Hey. Sure, man. I know... you.”
Judy caught Harley’s emphasis on his last word. He knew Mark and Libby. Where did that leave her? The embrace he held Libby in looked like it came from a lost boy who’d finally recognized a familiar face in the crowd.
“Libby,” he whispered. “I been looking for you. I think.”
“It’s okay. You found me. Mark and Judy too.” Her arms were still around his neck and his face in her hair. “You’re home now, Harley, where you belong.”
Judy’s heart pinched. He should be hugging her.
When he finally released Libby, Harley leaned heavily back into his pillow still clinging to her hand. He didn’t seem able or willing to let go. “And you kids have a tiny little gal of your own now, don’t you? You named her, umm... Let me think. You named her... Damn. I can’t remember.”
“You call her a bug.” Libby filled in the blank space for him.
He swallowed hard. Anger flashed across his face again, but disappeared as quickly. “You named her JayJay only I call her ladybug because... she’s so danged cute. Right?”
“That’s right,” Mark said.
Relief shuddered off Harley. Once again a soft smile lit his troubled face. “That’s right. Oh, yeah. You named her after Mark’s mother, didn’t you? You could have called her Harley, you know. That’s one of those kinds of names that fits all.”
“That’s a very good idea.” Libby’s eyes brimmed full. “We are definitely naming our next baby after you.”
Judy bit her lip, standing on the outside of this friendly conversation like she didn’t belong. All her plans screeched to a halt.
Harley’s face relaxed again with Libby’s hand still snug in his. “JayJay and Harley. That’d be way cool. Maybe I could come visit you kids after I get out of here.”
The yearning in his voice shook Judy to her core. He wanted to belong somewhere, but he had yet to look her way. She was nothing more than invisible staff.
Tears filled Harley’s eyes. “Look at you, Mark. Married to the woman you love. A family. I’d like to be happy like you someday.”
Judy had to turn away. Every memory restored was another sucker punch she’d not expected. This was no happy reunion. Maybe for Libby and Mark. Not for her.
“It will happen sooner than you think,” Mark said.
“Excuse me, nurse, but can I get something to drink?” Harley asked. “I’m awful dry.”
Libby gasped. “Harley, this is—”
“No. It’s okay,” Judy interrupted, more determined than ever and a knot in her throat. “I’d be happy to refill your water bottle.” To prove the facade, she lifted the bottle off his nightstand and filled it from the pitcher, fighting the stifling cramp in her chest. “Is there anything else?”
“Thank you, ma’am. No. I’m just tired.”
She turned to Mark and Libby, her fingers clenched at her side. “Mr. Mortimer needs his rest. You too, Mr. Houston.”
Mark shook his head sadly. “Call me if you need anything, Judy. You’ve got my cell.” He waved to Harley at the door. “We’ll be up to visit later.”
“Sure thing.” Harley offered a tired wave as Mark shut the recovery room door. Raj’s dark eyes appeared in the window, but Judy shook her head. She needed more time with her man. He didn’t even know who she was. The FBI couldn’t have him. Not yet.
“Judy, huh?” he said softly. “I knew a Judy once. She had brownish-red hair, kinda long like yours, only—”
Hazel browns skated over the last one standing in his room. Judy held her breath. For a minute, he seemed frozen. He blinked. The flutter of information overload came too fast and too raw to handle. Harley squeezed his eyes shut, the next words out of his mouth laced with pain and guilt. “I. Left. Them.”
She watched helplessly as the strong, self-assured man she loved shattered into unrecognizable pieces. Gone was the debonair gentle hero who’d caught her eye from the first second she’d seen him. This poor soul was desperately sad and ripping her heart out.
“There was so much smoke and.... They were dead. I checked them. I know what I saw. Honest. I’d never have left them if they weren’t already dead.” He covered his face with clenched fists, his voice filled with self-loathing. “But I did.”
She sat at the edge of his bed. He was remembering. Still full of anesthetic and of all things, reliving what had happened years ago. It had to stop. He needed to heal first. Remember later. Even her. She could wait.
“Let’s get you settled.” She tucked the blanket around his feet and legs.
“You sure I don’t know you from somewhere, darlin’?” he asked tiredly. “I might forget a lot of things, but I’d never forget a pretty filly like you.”
The resurgence of his drawl didn’t bring the relief she expected. Instead, it reminded her of the pain still ahead for this sweet man. Harley’d left his home in upstate New York after his parents forbade him to enlist in the Army out of high school. After they kicked him out, he earned his drawl along with his cowboy boots at Fort Hood, Texas. With his parents’ unyielding decision, he’d changed from a n
aive city boy into a man who thought he had to save the world.
“You know what?” she asked as brightly as she could. “May I give you a back rub? It might help you relax.”
“Sure. Why not?” He rolled to his side.
Judy lowered the railing to reach him easier and offered him an extra pillow to support his bandaged chest. “Does this position bother your knife wound?”
“My what?” He peered over his shoulder at her, his hand on his sternum. “That why I got this hard bandage on my chest?”
“You were stabbed. How about your leg? Any pain or discomfort there?”
“Nah. Go on. Work your magic.” He collapsed face first into the pillow.
She untied the back of his hospital gown, keeping everything below his waist covered. “Close your eyes. Think of your favorite place. Pretend you’re there and relax.”
“Got it. I’m on a beach. Go figure.”
She gulped. Could that beach be the same one on the Florida Keys where they’d spent two weeks falling more in love? She hoped. The memory still warmed her. Maybe it would do the same for him.
Gently, Judy applied her skill as a masseuse to the knotted muscles of her battle-scarred patient. Over his shoulder blades and down his spine she kneaded until some of his stress let go. When he rolled his shoulder, she applied another round of tender massage to the scalene muscles of his neck. He might not remember her, but she knew him. Harley carried his worries in the taut muscles melting beneath her fingertips. When he groaned, she knew she’d achieved her goal.
“How does that feel? Any better?”
He didn’t answer. Judy peered over his shoulder. She’d accomplished her goal all right. Harley was fast asleep, his face scrunched into the pillow like a little boy. She covered him with a heated blanket and dimmed the lights. Remember or not, he was hers. For now.
Eighteen
Harley had no more than fallen asleep when Raj returned, a scowl on his face.
“Thanks for sending Mark and Libby,” Judy said before he could spill the bad news she could read in his eyes. “Mark was exactly who Harley needed.”
Raj shrugged. “No big deal. I figured he’d relate better to another military guy.”
“They’re back again, aren’t they? The FBI, I mean.”
“They never left.” Raj looked over his shoulder at the porthole window in the door. “You need to know. Mr. Johnston’s involved now.”
Judy cringed. Mr. Johnston, the hospital administrator, was all about following correct protocol, something she hadn’t adhered to since she’d shown up last night. It was early Sunday morning. Careers were now at risk.
“I can’t let the FBI take him, Raj. They’ll treat him like a criminal. I won’t be able to get near him. What can I do?”
Raj deliberated for all of one second. “Where’s that gentleman you came in with last night?”
“Good idea. See if Alex is still in the hospital. Hurry. Tell him I need him.” Her heart thudded. She never thought she’d live to see the day she’d need Alex Stewart again.
But she was too late. As Raj opened the door to leave, there stood an unhappy hospital administrator with FBI Agent Holman at his heels. “Miss O’Brien,” Mr. Johnston said sternly. “Is what I’m hearing true? Is your friend the sniper who’s been terrorizing D.C.? And you’ve been hiding him in my hospital?”
“No. They’re wrong. It’s a lie.”
Agent Holman huffed as he angled through the doorway to stand one step ahead of Mr. Johnston. “Not according to the warrant a federal judge signed in the middle of the night. He’s ours. Take a step back and think about what you’re doing, Miss O’Brien.”
She blinked at that thinly veiled threat. What exactly was she doing besides protecting a defenseless victim from a bully? Judy moved between Harley’s bed and Agent Holman. “He’s not going anywhere.”
“Now Nurse O’Brien.” Mr. Johnston’s normally strong voice turned thin and appeasing. He meant to give Harley up. She could hear it in his voice.
“No,” she barked. “He’s sick. He stays.”
Agent Holman’s right cheek hooked into a patronizing smirk. His eyes narrowed. “You think you and your friends are big enough to take on the FBI, do you?”
Judy turned to Mr. Johnston. “Sir. Please. You know Harley and me. I’ve called his neurologist and VA counselor. I’d recommend we wait until—”
“Not going to happen.” Agent Holman already had a pair of handcuffs opened in his hand. “You might have friends in high places, Miss O’Brien, but this cold-blooded murderer does not. No one can help him now.”
“Mr. Mortimer does require a specific regimen,” Mr. Johnston offered.
“And I care about that why?” Holman stepped around Judy and snapped the cuffs onto one of Harley’s wrists, the other end onto the bedrail. “Plenty of boys like him come back from the war whining and crying. Bunch of cowards if you ask me. We know how to take care of him.”
“Sir, you really cannot cuff a patient like that,” Mr. Johnston advised with absolutely no conviction in his voice. “It’s against the law.”
Agent Holman stared the man down. “I’m a federal agent. This man is a terrorist. I’ll do whatever I need to protect my country.”
Judy’s knees about buckled. Holman was taking Harley. She gulped. Mr. Johnston would not defend her position. More than ever, she needed Alex.
“We’ll see about that.” She gathered what was left of her ragged courage. Now was not the time to make a scene, but she knew someone strong enough to do just that. With her heart pounding, she left Harley in the hands of the same monster who had berated her less than twelve hours earlier.
Panic clawed up her throat. It was all she could do to not fall against the wall outside the recovery room door. A scuffle sounded from inside. A tray fell. Mr. Johnston’s was quickly lost in Harley’s angry roar of, “Where’s my men? Damn you! Get this thing off my damned—”
Silence. She trembled. Her nightmare had started all over again.
“Judy!”
She jerked around to see Alex running toward her. Two other men followed closely behind. Of all things, Alex was dressed in exercise pants and a sweatshirt. “Are we too late?”
She burst into tears. “They’ve got him, Alex. He’s cuffed. They won’t let me—”
“Like hell they won’t.” His hand gripped her elbow and he spun her around.
Glancing over her shoulder, Judy caught the tender smile of Jed McCormack. “Didn’t I tell you to call me the next time you needed something, young lady?”
She nodded mutely as the man in the business suit with Jed stepped forward. He offered her one quick nod before he put his palm to the door. “This won’t take long.”
Alex pulled her into his side. “Calm down. They aren’t taking Harley anywhere. You’ll see.”
“But, Alex...” She bit her lip, wanting to believe, but her heart couldn’t take much more. She’d seen the cuffs. Holman didn’t care one iota about rules or the law.
The hospital administrator exited the recovery room. A sheepish Mr. Johnston looked at Judy and then her benefactor in surprise. “Jed. Why are you here?” His gaze darted to the door he’d just closed. “Is it for—?”
“Just helping out a good friend of the family,” Jed replied as calmly as if arriving in the nick of time was no big deal. “Judy and Harley are two of the best. He’s a hero like my boy, but I’m sure you already know that.”
Mr. Johnston seemed at a loss for words. When he walked away, Judy leaned into Alex, thankful for the man she’d once considered an interference in her life. His hand tightened around her waist. A sob crept up from her chest. She tried to control it, but a tremor escaped anyway.
“Wait for it,” Alex whispered in her ear. “It isn’t everyday the National Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation pays a house call.”
“The National Director?”
“Andrew Strong in person.” Jed winked at her. “It seems two enterprisin
g private contractors filed their first official report in the wee small hours this morning. I don’t think he was even out of bed before they gave him their intelligence brief.”
“Roy and Connor?”
Jed nodded. “Once he’d seen their evidence, Andy called me to arrange this meeting. Seems Alex’s agents could prove your young man’s whereabouts from the minute he left home yesterday morning until he was found last night.”
“I told them it couldn’t be him.” Judy wiped her face, finally feeling a measure of relief. She turned to Alex with a lump in her throat again. “You knew this might happen, didn’t you?”
“Actually,” he said somberly, “I was out looking for my wife when Jed called. Roy and Connor acted without my knowledge.”
Judy lost it. Here he was helping her again. He’d devoted men, his dogs, and all his resources to locate Harley, but there was nothing she could do to help him. Sorry did not cover the hurt in her heart for this suffering man. “Thank you,” she whispered.
It took less than a minute before a very subdued Agent Holman accompanied his boss out of the recovery room. He did not look at Judy when he walked past, at least not that she could tell through his dark glasses and with his head down.
The Director took over. “On behalf of the Bureau, I personally apologize for the way this affair has been handled. No charges will be filed against Mr. Mortimer. You will see a formal retraction in the press.”
“Thank you,” Alex replied calmly. “May I ask what instigated this course of action to begin with?”
Director Strong sighed. “As you know, Mr. Stewart, we in the Bureau are trained to lean forward, to be ever vigilant and ready to intercept our nation’s enemies at all times. Let’s just say someone leaned a little too far forward, shall we?”
He nodded toward Judy. “Miss O’Brien, I owe you an apology, as well. You should not have been detained or questioned without probable cause yesterday. Your belongings will be delivered back to your custody as soon as it’s convenient for you and Mr. Mortimer. Good day.”
Harley (In the Company of Snipers Book 4) Page 15
