Truth and Consequences (24 page)

Jason was on a troop transport. He had to be. He didn’t hear the rhythmic drone of a C-130, but over him, Fish and Angie argued, something about her cooking and his ancestry. Why wouldn’t they shut up and let him sleep? Hell, they should sleep, too. There would be little time for rest when they got wherever they were headed.

Where were they headed? He tried to concentrate, running into walls in his head. Thoughts jumped around like wild phantasms, nothing he could reach out and grab. He couldn’t even hold on to the pain hovering at the edge of his consciousness. He hurt. He knew it, but even the pain seemed unreal. Drugs. Somewhere beyond the painkillers, that pain was gonna be huge.

What had happened? Had he been shot? Again, he nudged at his memory. The walls refused to give.

He sensed motion over him.

“Dude, wake up.” Fish’s voice, the ditzy surfer tone that didn’t match the sharp mind underneath. “Come on, Harding. Wakey, wakey. Two days is long enough for a nap. You’re breathing on your own. You can do this, too. C’mon. Open your eyes. Hey, if you don’t wake up, Bull is gonna give me the keys to your car.”

Like hell. Bull knew better. He wanted to chuckle, but oblivion sucked at him again.

Pain. Real this time, the drugs not dulling it. Pain everywhere—his foot, his arm, his chest. His face. Sweet Jesus, his head. What had happened to his head? Little sledgehammers slammed against the surface of his skull. He recoiled, seeking the dark where he didn’t hurt.

“Jason? Buddy, you there?” Bull, his deep voice heavy with concern.

He could hang on to Bull. A guy had buddies, and then there were
buddies
, the ones who could be trusted with a guy’s life. Bull was one of those.

Blood brothers, Bull said, because Jason had shed his saving Bull’s sorry self.

With Bull here, he could brave anything. Even the overwhelming, all-encompassing agony. Whatever had happened, Bull could help him fight back from it.

“Hey, man. Wake up.” Bull’s voice dropped, close to his ear. “You were right about that Palmer chick, man. She is hot. You gotta wake up and give me the details.”

Kathleen
.

Jim Ed.
The walls of his memory gave way, anger and hatred and agony flooding back.

His head hitting a concrete floor.

A booted foot slamming into his side.

Water closing over him.

The son of a bitch had tried to kill him and damned near succeeded.

Jason. I love you.

He wouldn’t let his cousin win. He had to fight his way back, for Kathleen. She’d said she loved him and he had to find out if it was true. He had to tell her, too.

“That’s it, man. Open your eyes.” Urgency flooded Bull’s voice. “C’mon, Harding. You can do it.”

Light blinded him. He blinked, everything fuzzy, his lids fighting to close again. Bull leaned over him, a wide grin splitting his face. “All right! How you feel, buddy?”

His tongue lay thick in his mouth, his throat dry and on fire. He opened his mouth, trying to force out a sound. Trying to tell Bull what he really needed. A croak emerged.

“Kathleen.”

In the ladies room, Kathleen leaned over the sink and splashed cool water on her gritty eyes. Three days. Small improvements—the respirator removed, Jason breathing on his own now, his brain waves registering normal activity. But he hadn’t regained consciousness, although his condition remained stable enough for Dr. Grady to have him moved to a private room and out of the ICU.

The door burst open and Bull rushed in. The elderly woman reapplying too-red lipstick shrieked and smeared it across her cheek. Kathleen stared at him, his wild-eyed look striking another type of fear in her heart.

She backed away, shaking her head. “No.”

He nodded, a huge smile showing off sparkling white teeth. “Yes. He’s awake. And he wants you.”

“Oh, my God!” Kathleen launched herself into his arms and, with a booming laugh, he swung her around and out into the hallway.

He pushed her toward Jason’s room. “Go. I’ll get the doctor.”

She didn’t need to be told twice. Heart pounding, she dashed to the end of the hall, to the corner she’d haunted for two days now. Her hand trembled on the door latch, a shakiness that attacked her entire body as she slipped into the dim room.

His eyes were closed again. Some of the swelling had receded over the last day and he looked more like himself, though deep blue and purple bruises still covered his face.

Kathleen eased closer, struggling against crushing disappointment that he seemed unconscious once more. Bull had seen him awake. He would wake again.

Next to the bed, she reached for his uninjured hand, careful of the IV line. She leaned over him. “Jason?”

His lashes fluttered, lifted, dropped again.

Her heart jumped, a huge thud against her ribs.

She feathered a touch across his dry lips. “Jason, it’s Kathleen.”

His mouth twitched under her thumb. His eyes flickered open, the sea green depths murky with pain and drugs. Tears spilled over her lashes.
Thank You, God.

She smiled, stroking his hand. “I love you.”

His throat moved. His lips parted and, under her hand, his fingers flexed. Recognition shone through the confusion in his eyes. “Kath.”

She shook her head, his shallow breath a whispery warmth against her skin. “Don’t talk. It’s okay. Everything’s okay. You’re safe.”

His eyes closed, lashes dark against his pale skin. His mouth moved again. “Love you.”

A tear dripped onto his chin. “Good. Because I’m never letting go of you, Harding.”

“Rain’s coming.” Jason rotated his wrist, trying to relieve the deep ache in the bone. Ever since the fracture had healed, the increased pressure of a coming rain sent a throbbing through his entire forearm.

Tick reeled his line in and cast a skeptical glance at the sky. “There’s not a cloud up there.”

Jason chuckled, the sound blending with the gentle lap of water against the boat. “Trust me. My wrist hurts. It’s going to rain.”

“Sure it’s not overuse?”

“One semen sample does not constitute overuse.” Jason tugged his cap lower over his eyes. Being handed a little plastic cup and ushered into a bathroom did constitute one of the most awkward events of his life. But worth it. Kathleen wanted his baby, the old fashioned way wasn’t getting it, and he wanted her to have whatever she wanted.

Enough that he’d be playing sperm donor again tomorrow, this time for the artificial insemination. He wanted the procedure to succeed, not just so Kathleen would have the baby she desired, but because he missed his wife. For the last six months, their love life had been regimented, ruled by temperatures and fertile dates. Not that he wouldn’t make love with Kathleen whenever, wherever she wanted, but he missed the playful, spontaneous woman he’d discovered under the layers of Kathleen’s reserve.

Thunderclouds gathered on the distant horizon. Jason nudged Tick’s foot with his own. “Told ya.”

By the time they loaded the boat on the trailer, fat drops of rain pelted them. They made a dash for the cab and Jason laughed. “I’m telling you. The wrist never lies.”

Tick glanced at him. “You finished with the physical therapy?”

“Yeah.” He flexed his fingers. “It’s not ever going to be as strong as it was, but it’s a lot better than at first.”

A silence descended on the truck while Tick navigated rain-slick roads. The wipers slapped in rhythm across the windshield, rebellious rivulets making their way down the side of the glass.

“I saw Stacy yesterday,” Tick said, his voice quiet.

Jason straightened. “How is she?”

“She’s different. Tori can’t say enough good things about her. She’s completely reorganized the front office at the women’s center. The divorce is final. Did you know that?”

“Jamie told me.” He was coaching a county rec baseball team this year, which let him spend time with his cousin’s son. He’d been afraid he’d see too much of Jim Ed in the boy, but instead kept seeing flashes of himself at the same age. “He’s proud of his mom.”

“He should be. Starting over completely couldn’t have been easy.”

“The family counseling’s been good for all of them.”

Tick pulled into the driveway of Jason and Kathleen’s home. “Good luck tomorrow.”

“Thanks.” Jason grabbed his rod and tackle box from the truck bed and made a dash for the house. Only his unmarked car, bearing the H-1 tag signifying his rank as Haynes County’s appointed interim sheriff, sat under the carport. Kathleen wasn’t home yet, probably still at her late appointment to have her hormone levels checked before the next day’s procedure.

Jason left his boots and equipment on the deck by the door. The house enveloped him with Kathleen’s essence when he stepped inside. He loved walking into their home, the first real one he’d ever had. But home wasn’t the house, the furniture, the wedding photos and honeymoon snapshots.

Home was Kathleen. Home was the incredible love and affection that flooded every aspect of their lives with light and healing.

In the bathroom, he stripped off and dropped his bait-scented clothing in the hamper. He stepped into the shower and groaned with satisfaction, hot water pelting any residual tension from his muscles. The week had been rougher than usual, from trying to hire a new investigator to attending Jim Ed’s sentencing hearing.

He wasn’t sure what he’d expected to get out of going, and he and Kathleen had argued over it. Whatever he’d looked for—a confession, an apology, an admission from Jim Ed that what he’d done had been wrong—Jason hadn’t gotten it. But that part of his life was over.

He couldn’t think of any better way to begin the next chapter than having a baby with his wife.

Once out of the shower, he rubbed water from his hair and wrapped a towel around his waist. He pushed his damp hair away from his face, brushing the ridge of his surgical scar.

“Jason.”

He startled, heart pounding against his ribs for one uncomfortable moment. Clutching his ribs, he chuckled and glanced at the bedroom door. “Geez, Kathleen.”

“I’m sorry.” An apologetic smile on her face, she reached for him, her arms going around his waist. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know.” He rubbed his face against her neck, inhaling her clean scent. The increased tendency to startle easily was normal, at least according to his doctor, and should fade, just as his getting the words for colors mixed up had in the three months after his head injury.

“Mmm. You smell good.” Kathleen pressed closer, nuzzling his jaw. She kissed down his neck and he shivered, a tingling arousal rushing to his groin.

“Sugar, this isn’t a good idea.” He leaned against the vanity and slid his hands to her waist. “I’ve got that…” She mouthed his nipple, taking his breath, and his hands tightened. “…thing tomorrow.”

“What thing?” Her teasing tone matched the mouth traveling over his stomach. The towel fell to the floor.

“The appointment thing.” She nipped his thigh, and his fingers tightened on her shoulders. “Ah, God, Kathleen. We can’t.”

Her tongue smoothed the spot where she’d bitten him. “Why not?”

He tried to remember why not, but she was driving him out of his mind, and all he could think of was tumbling her down on their bed or right here on the thick rug.

“Because it’ll lower my count.” He gasped the words and felt her smile.

“I don’t think that’s a problem. I canceled the appointment.”

That got his attention. He gripped her arms and pulled her up. “What? Why?”

She touched his mouth, smiling. “I didn’t ovulate.”

He groaned and closed his eyes. “Hell, sugar, I’m sorry.”

“Jason.” She cupped his jaw and he opened his eyes, meeting her shining brown gaze. “I didn’t ovulate because I’m already pregnant.”

He laughed. “Really?”

Her arms wound around his neck. “Yes. Really.”

Wrapping her in a tight embrace, he swung her around, their joyful laughter bubbling in the small room. His mouth found hers and the laughter ceased for a long time.

Later, they lay sprawled among rumpled white sheets. Sated, he rested his head on her chest, his hand on her stomach. Kathleen sifted through his hair, the easy caress making him drowsy.

He flexed his fingers against her flat abdomen. “Hard to believe there’s a baby in there.” He lifted his gaze to hers. “Is it okay for us to be doing this?”

Her sparkling laugh warmed him. “Now you ask,
after
we’ve done it. Yes, it’s fine. I asked.”

He moved up on the pillows and pulled her into his arms, her cheek against his chest. She sighed, stroking his side. “I have never been so happy in my life.”

“I’m glad.” He caressed her back, sleep pulling at him.

“Are you happy, Jason?”

She had to ask? He smiled, her tousled locks tickling his lips. “Yeah, sugar, I’m happy.” He tightened his arms. “I’ve got everything I’ve ever wanted, right here.”