I Still Do

by Christie Ridgway

  But Will had gone out on a fire call, Izzy was being stubbornly silent since the last time Emily had harassed her about getting in touch with Owen—and since she was still married, Emily didn’t have much room to criticize, anyway. Her boss had never once called her during her off-hours.

  No one else had the number. She cocked her head toward the kitchen, where the phone was plugged into its charger. Will might be back at the station already. He might want to continue the conversation they started…

  But it remained silent.

  And Emily settled into the comfortable sofa cushions and tried pretending she was a Regency-era miss instead of a modern mouse. This time it was a knock on her door that interrupted.

  She started, and automatically half-rose, but then she dropped back to her seat. Who would come visiting at this time of night? Kids out on a prank?

  Who had her address anyway?

  Her boss, who hadn’t called her cell phone.

  Izzy, who was on the other side of the country.

  Will, who was working a twenty-four-hour shift.

  Glancing at the door as someone banged on it again, she double-checked that it was locked and deadbolted. She was safe. Safe in her mousehole, insulated from worry and heartache and all the highs and lows that had come to her over the last few weeks. The highs and lows of living life.

  The next knocks were louder, a declaration of impatience and insistence. Really, who could it be? Not her boss, or Izzy, or Will—

  “Emily!” A voice called out. No, not Will, but one of only two others who’d ever been to her house. One of Will’s brothers.

  Her heart clawed its way from her chest to her throat as she approached the door. “Max?” she called back, even before she had her hand on the lock. “Is something wrong?”

  “Will.” Max’s voice was muffled. “It’s about Will.”

  Her fingers slipped on the deadbolt. She clamped her teeth on her lower lip and focused on her hand, finally managing to turn the mechanism and fling open the door.

  Cool air rushed over her colder skin, and Max faced her, his hands in his pockets and his eyes worried. A younger, leaner version of his brother. A more scared version. Even standing before an Elvis asking for his “I do,” Will hadn’t appeared afraid.

  “What is it?” she asked, her voice hoarse. “Oh, God, what’s happened?”

  “I don’t know exactly.” Max’s gaze bored into hers. “But something went wrong at a fire and we’re supposed to get to the hospital. One of the sibs told me to stop and pick you up on my way.”

  “Pick me up? I’m not, he wouldn’t…” Oh, God. Will wouldn’t want her. They weren’t anything to each other.

  Max bounced on the balls of his feet. “Are you going to change first? Please hurry.”

  “I…I…” Unsure what to do, she gestured him over the threshold, then backed toward her bedroom. “We don’t know if he’s hurt, or…?”

  Oh, good Lord, what was she dithering about? She turned and ran toward her bedroom, already stripping off her robe. In seconds she rushed back out and then she and Max ran to his car.

  As they drove off, she looked back at her house, the lights she’d left on making it look cozy. Secure.

  But knowing something had happened to Will—not knowing what had happened to Will, meant she wouldn’t be safe there even behind another set of locks or even bars on the windows. Still, she’d discovered a knack for making mouseholes anywhere. Surely in the midst of the large Dailey family she could stay back—unnoticed and perhaps even invisible—thereby assuring herself all was well with Will. And without putting more of her emotions on the line.

  Mouseholes were mighty fine for her, she’d decided.

  The hospital’s emergency room waiting area was filled with uncomfortable chairs, tattered magazines and people in various stages of misery. A child held an icepack to a cut lip, a grizzled old man slumped against molded plastic in an attitude of surly yet stoic patience, a gaggle of Dailey brothers and sisters roiled in a restless knot in one corner.

  Max made his way straight for them, but Emily hung back even as she kept her ears open for news. It didn’t take long for both her and Will’s brother to be filled in. A fire, a collapsed metal canopy, a search to find Will under all the wreckage.

  Wreckage.

  They’d had to cut him out.

  Cut him out.

  It took ten long minutes once they’d located him to free him from under the debris. Though he’d protested, they’d brought him to the hospital, because obviously he’d suffered from smoke inhalation and there was something wrong with his ankle.

  Something wrong with his ankle. Smoke inhalation.

  Emily’s head felt heavy, as if someone had stuffed cotton wool in her ears. Her hand to her chest, she backed away from the circle of Daileys, needing to get away, get out.

  At home there was a couch, a soft robe, a Regency miss at a dance.

  “Emily!”

  She froze, as Jamie’s gaze found hers. The other woman strode through her family to take hold of Emily’s arm. “They said we’ll get to see him in a few minutes. He’ll want you to be there.”

  Emily didn’t have the voice to set Will’s sister straight. So she let herself be swept into the Dailey midst, and then, a few minutes later, she was swept along with them toward the hospital room where Will lay.

  The family gathered around the bed and then just stood there, frozen with concern. Emily huddled by the door. She stared at Will, noting the scrape on his forehead, the oxygen mask over his mouth and nose, the length of his body that ended with a wrapped ankle propped on a pillow.

  She didn’t think he noticed her as his gaze roamed over Jamie, who was cuddled close to her husband, Ty, then on to Max, Alex, Tom and Betsy. Will pulled the mask away from his face. “For God’s sake, Tommy,” he said, his voice hoarse but happy-sounding. “Are you crying? Betsy Wetsy I can understand, but—”

  The rest of his teasing was lost as his brothers and sisters converged on his figure. All Emily could see from her spot by the exit was his big hand roaming over dark hair, patting a shoulder, pausing to let fingers clutch his.

  “We thought it might be something bad.” Jamie’s voice came out muffled, as she was pressed, Emily supposed, to her brother’s shoulder. “We thought you might have…have…”

  “Left you rug rats?” he finished for her. “Then who would Max run to when he can’t balance his checkbook?”

  “Hey,” a male voice protested.

  “Who can actually get Ty’s lawnmower started for him?”

  “Hey,” Will’s brother-in-law echoed.

  The family moved back, grins intact and each echoing the one stretched across their big brother’s face. He gazed around them again. “You didn’t think I’d leave you guys to fend for yourselves, did you? Knowing I had to keep the herd in line was what kept me determined to get out from under there.”

  The worry had evaporated from the Daileys like steam under a summer sun. They started chattering as they always did, everyone talking at once, everyone vying for Will’s attention and approval. She smiled a little, knowing he was in good hands, and wondering if the gap between him and his family had finally been breached for good.

  She wouldn’t be around to know for sure, but he was safe, and she’d be safe, too, once she got back to her cozy house and her comforting book.

  She pulled open the door, only to face a woman in a firefighter’s uniform. Her hair was sweaty and her eyes were red and she looked past Emily to the man on the bed. Emily scuttled sideways to make room as she strode across the floor.

  The Daileys, sensing the newcomer’s presence, opened their circle so that the woman had a spot at the end of Will’s bed.

  “Anita.” Will frowned. “What are you doing? You weren’t hurt after all, were you?”

  “No, no.” She shook her head. “That canopy missed me. But…but it’s been a bad luck night, Will.”

  He stilled. “What are you talking about?”


  “Our guys were up on the roof of the house. Ventilating it.” The woman cleared her throat. “It gave way, Will.”

  “Our guys.” His voice barked out. “Our guys who?”

  “Palmer, Palmer from Engine 8. He’s dead, Will.”

  “Oh.” Will slumped against his pillow. “Oh, God.”

  “And Owen,” the woman went on. “Will, Owen went down, too. The ambulance just came in a few minutes ahead of me. I don’t know how bad it is. But he’s alive, I know that.”

  Will felt like he’d been hit in the head yet again. Oh, hell. Palmer gone, and Owen…? His gut clenched. Bad luck night.

  “Will, I’ll go downstairs and find out what I can,” Alex said. “The woman at the reception desk looked as if she will respond to flirting.”

  Tom rose from his spot on the end of Will’s bed. “I’ll go with, in case she responds to good-looking guys instead of pushy ones.”

  Alex cuffed their younger brother, but the gesture was half-hearted. All the grins in the room were gone.

  Jamie already had her cell phone out. “I’ll call the babysitter and get her to give me Owen’s sister’s number. I know I have it somewhere. I’ll call her to see what we can do to help.”

  Betsy grabbed Max’s arm. “Max and I will…we’ll…I don’t know, we’ll do something useful. Don’t worry, Bird Brother. We’ll take care of things. You can count on us.”

  Max nodded, his gaze somber. “We’ll take care of you, Will.”

  They all seemed about to leave. Suddenly, Will couldn’t have that. The idea of being without them without saying something more, something else, set in a panic that made his head pound harder, his gut twist tighter. Though it was different, this need to be with them, different than when he’d been under that canopy, because suddenly he saw the whole picture.

  He saw the whole thing about the Dailey brothers and sisters and him.

  You can count on us.

  We’ll take care of you, Will.

  “Wait, wait.” The words burst out of his mouth and he grabbed the arms of the two closest. Betsy. Max. “I need to tell you guys something.”

  Five sets of Dailey eyes looked back at him, Ty was staring too, and Will gave them all a reassuring half-smile. “I knew you guys were all going to be here. Once the captain called Jamie.”

  Her returning smile was faint. “You know the family grapevine is a fine-tuned machine.”

  “And I counted on that,” Will said. “I counted on that like I know every one of you counts on me. Like I hope you know you can count on me.”

  “Of course,” Betsy said, her voice puzzled.

  “Ty says you’re the oil in the Dailey gears,” Jamie added.

  “Well, I’m glad to hear that. But everybody, everybody, the fact is, you’re the oil in my gears, too. As much as you rely on me…I realize I rely on all of you right back.”

  Betsy dropped to the mattress beside him, tears in her eyes again.

  Will squeezed her hand. “I relied on you being at the hospital tonight, I rely on your prayers for Owen. I relied on you guys this summer to give me space when I demanded it. But, thank God, not too much space.”

  “We could never do that,” Betsy assured him.

  He smiled at her, then looked around to catch the eyes of all the rest of his siblings as he thought of how they’d stepped up to help Emily when she’d first moved to town and how they were ready to do whatever they could for Owen. “You’re not a weight around my neck. You’re my tribe and you’re my support and each one of you is even more precious to me now that I realize I can count on leaning on you, as much as you can count on leaning on me.”

  He ignored Jamie’s sniffle because she always liked to think she was tough. “I was a flat-out idiot for wanting freedom from your love.”

  He heard another sniffle, louder this time, and realized it was Anita who was brushing away tears from her face. “’Nita, sorry to bring you in on the family drama.”

  “No,” she said. “It’s lovely. I feel…privileged. But I need to tell you one more thing, in case it rings a bell for you.”

  “What?”

  “The guys said that when they got Owen out he was asking for an ‘Izzy’. He kept saying the name over and over. Captain thinks maybe it’s a dog he used to have, or something, but in case it’s someone important—”

  Will groaned. “Izzy’s not a dog he used to have. But I don’t know how to contact—”

  “Izzy,” a new voice interjected. “You don’t know how to contact Izzy, but I do.”

  The crowd around his bed parted and there, standing at the back of the room and looking as if she wished she were anywhere else, was Emily.

  Emily. God. Emily.

  He’d been all messed up about her, too.

  Ty took his sister’s arm. “Let’s go find out what we can see about Owen, people. Give Bird Brother here a few minutes to catch his breath.”

  Jamie yanked the oxygen mask back over his face, but he pushed it away again as his family, Anita too, melted away. This time he didn’t stop them.

  His chest felt tight, but it wasn’t the lack of air that was affecting him this time. It was the look on Emily’s face. His Emily.

  “I’m assuming the grapevine got to you, too.” The smoke had roughened his voice.

  “Max came to the door. I was in my pajamas, but he insisted.”

  Bless Max. Just another reason to feel grateful to his family. They knew to bring him Emily. Looking at her dulled a little of the edge of his sorrow over Jerry Palmer, and his worry about Owen. The sadness over Jerry would hit him again, he knew it, but he’d take the time to feel it, like he hadn’t when his parents passed. Not until Emily insisted had he allowed himself to grieve.

  She cleared her throat now, then plucked at her top. “I’m embarrassed to say I’m still in my pajamas. Half of them, at least.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t care. You’re here.”

  She didn’t move from her spot by the door. “You, too. You’re here.”

  Not dead, but he’d come close. Not injured, not really. He could see the knowledge of that on her face and in the wariness in her big blue eyes.

  He remembered now, as clearly as if it had just happened, the one who had suggested they marry in Vegas. It had been him.

  His instincts were good, he always knew that. Like Em, he only got into trouble when he over-thought things. “Come here, honey.” He held out his hand to her.

  She didn’t move a muscle. Oh, yeah. His Em was thinking hard.

  He coughed and when he saw the lines of concern crease her brow, he didn’t try to hold back another round. His instincts said he should go with the sympathy if it gave him an advantage. This was just that important. “Em,” he said, “please come here.”

  From her pace, he might as well have asked her to a hanging. Her own. He leaned forward to catch her hand, then drew her to the side of the bed.

  “You’re scared.”

  Her whisper barely sounded in the room. “I’ve never been so frightened in my life.”

  He squeezed her fingers. “It’s okay though. I’m okay.”

  “I call my house my mousehole,” she confessed, the words blurting out. “I’m safe there.”

  She was in full retreat, he could see that, and all because he’d stopped listening to his instincts.

  “But I’m out here, honey.” He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “I can’t do much about that, because this is my job, what I’m good at. But out here, it rarely means anyone gets hurt. Honest. And out here we get to play together.”

  She frowned again. Okay, so “play” wasn’t a good word to use.

  “I don’t know that we want the same things, Will.”

  “I want you.”

  The face she made wasn’t flattering. “You want good times. To play.” She looked down at their joined hands, and then back up. “And even then, you’ve run hot and cold on me, Will.”

  “I’ve run,” he acknowledged. “Bu
t that was because you showed up when I least expected you, Em. I was all set to reclaim a life I thought I’d missed and there you were, everything I would want if I wanted to settle down.”

  “Which you didn’t.”

  “I wanted to have good times. But, Em, guess what? Guess what I’ve discovered these last few weeks? You are my good times. Without you, I won’t have times as fun or as passionate or as full of…love, as the ones I’ve had when I’m with you.”

  Color rushed to her face. “I can’t help being in love with you.”

  Though he could tell she was a little mad about it. “I wouldn’t want you to. Em—”

  “Will, I have word on Owen.” Alex stood in the doorway. “It’s good news. He’s injured, but nothing life-threatening.”

  A little of Will’s tension eased. “Thank God.”

  “Thank God,” Emily echoed. “Though I’m still going to get Izzy on the phone.”

  He looked back at her, then glanced at his brother, trying to send him a silent message. There were things that needed to be said, in private, before she started making calls. Alex might have picked up on the unspoken communication, but just then Betsy and Tom drew up behind him. “Did you hear the news about Owen?” his little sister demanded.

  “Yeah. So could you guys…”

  Ty and Jamie arrived now too, shoving the other three into the room. Then, not that he should have been surprised, Max showed up, and it was another Dailey crazy chaos. They were exchanging information, their voices getting louder by the moment.

  He was never going to get a chance to be alone with Emily, Will figured. Not while he was still in this damn hospital bed. Ah, well. His brothers and sisters had always been part of his package and he was done thinking that was a bad thing.

  Yanking on the hand he held, he brought the woman he loved closer to him. “I’ve been a shortsighted idiot, Em. But I’m seeing clearly now. That means I’m going to insist you venture out, my mouse. Come out and play with me, sweetheart, because I love you and am not about to let you go after finding you again.”

  Miracle of miracles, the Dailey clan all stopped talking at once, so that his “I love you” and then all the rest rang loud and clear in the room.