You're Still the One (22 page)

              When the man shifted, Rick finally saw his gun, drilling into the underside of Grace's jaw.

              "I'm telling you, those disks are in town." Tommy's features were drawn, his gaze trained on the man who held Grace. "If I don't pick them up by tomorrow, they'll be mailed to the police."

             
Good thinking, Tony,
Rick commended silently, trying to gauge his chances of taking Baldy from this angle.
Move down another step, you slimeball.

              Skinny stepped to the ground, backed Tommy into the hood of his pickup.

              The bald guy pushed Grace down another step, then another. Rick moved silently toward them.

              "Robert!" The skinny man called. "There's a car back there. Behind this truck. It's a black Cor-"

              Rick jammed his gun into Robert's back. "Let her go."

              The man tried to angle away from Rick, put Grace squarely in front of him, but she dug in her heels. He yelled, "Joseph!"

              The skinny guy whirled, aimed at Grace. Tommy roared and tackled him from behind. The gun went off. Grace screamed.

              "Drop, Grace!" Rick ordered. "Fold your legs and drop!"

              His words were drowned out by more gunfire from Joseph. He and Tommy grappled on the ground, fighting for the gun.

              Rick yelled at Grace again, and she folded her legs. Caught off balance, Robert stumbled, slamming her into the railing.

              "Tommy!" she screamed. "Tommy!"

              Joseph's gun fired again, Robert draped himself over Grace like plastic wrap. Rick couldn't get a clear shot.

              Tommy yelped, frantically pushing at the man on top of him. Scrambling off the ground, he stumbled and bumped into the grill of his truck. "He's dead. Crap, he's dead."

              Before Rick could tell Tommy to get Joseph's gun, Robert exploded into motion. He pushed Grace to the side and bolted down the steps.

              She tumbled over the rail, on top of Rick. Under the sudden impact, he stumbled. They both fell to the ground.

              A shot rang out. Tommy cursed. Another shot crackled the air. By the time Rick moved Grace and darted under the steps, Tommy had taken cover behind the passenger side of his truck and was shooting at Robert, who had ducked behind a tree.

              Tommy fired twice more, peeked over the hood to squeeze the trigger again. This time, the gun clicked, empty.

              Robert popped out from behind the tree, shot twice. Tommy dove for the ground.

              Grace screamed, getting to her feet.

              "Stay down, damn it, Grace!" Rick motioned her down. "Get behind the cabin. "Katie's waiting for you."

              Another shot sounded. Grace dropped to the ground, stayed low.

              Rick fired in Robert's direction. Saw the guy's shoulder and fired again.

              He had no shots to waste, no chance of getting to his other clip in the car.

              Robert fired. One shot whizzed past Rick's ear; another buried itself in the wood over his head. The other man bolted into the woods.

              Rick squeezed off two shots, aiming for Robert's leg. The man tripped, then fell. Silence descended so abruptly that Rick's ears still buzzed from the sound of gunfire. The acrid smell of gunpowder burned the air. Rick blinked. Had he hit the guy? If so, where?

              After several moments with no movement from either Robert or Joseph, Rick moved carefully from under the steps. He knelt to check Joseph. No pulse.

              "Tommy, you okay?"

              "Yes." The man's voice shook as he rose slowly from behind the truck.

              "Check on Katie and Grace." Rick started toward the edge of the woods where Robert had fallen.

              Rick could see him, sprawled face down on a bed of pine needles, unmoving. Keeping his gun at the ready in case Robert planned to surprise him, Rick stood over the man. No twitch of a leg, no moan, nothing.

              He knelt, placed two fingers on the guy's neck. He was dead.

              He'd never killed anyone before. A wave of shock rolled over him, left his chest clammy. His hands unsteady, he thumbed on his safety.

              For a moment, he dragged in deep breaths, trying to ease the greasy knot in the pit of his stomach. Sweat trickled down the side of his face, and he wiped it away.

              He turned and started toward the cabin, looking for Katie's dark head. Just as he slid his gun into the small of his back, he reached the steps and saw her on the ground hugging Grace. Tommy was on his knees beside them.

              "They're both dead." Rick strode toward them. Grace was exactly where he'd last seen her.

              He had a clear view of them. Katie wasn't hugging Grace; she was
holding
her. Grace's head lolled against Katie's breast, her eyes closed. Tears streaked Tommy's dusty face.

              Dread fisted in Rick's gut. "Katie?"

              He didn't even realize he'd moved, but he found himself in front of her. Dropping to his knees, he gripped her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

              She looked at him with anguished eyes. "Grace. She's been shot."

              Fear a cold fist around his heart, Rick moved quickly. He and Tommy carried Grace carefully to Tommy's truck while Katie raced ahead to open the door and slide in. They situated Grace so hr head rested in Katie's lap, her feet across Tommy's.

              Outwardly, Rick was calm, but inside his nerves were a hot, jumbled mess. How close has those wild shots come to Kit?

              He followed them to the highway, calling an ambulance on the way. Then, he called Katie to let her know he'd meet her at the hospital. He stayed behind to wait on the police and tell them what had happened. The sight of Grace's blood on Katie's blouse had given him a brutal jolt, made him admit what he'd  been trying to deny ever since she'd come back into his life.

              He needed to see her, make sure she was okay, but it was three hours before he finally reached the San Luis Valley Regional Medical Center in Alamosa where the paramedics had transported Grace. Due to the nature of her wound, they thought she needed a larger facility.

              Rick had given his statement to the local police and stood by Katie as she and Tommy had both given theirs. Rick had told her the cops were willing to wait until her sister was out of surgery, but she wanted it finished.

              Just as the police officers left, a young, blond doctor with kind blue eyes stepped out of the operating room. He introduced himself as Dr. Darren and told them that the bullet had nicked Grace's spleen. He'd performed a splenectomy, which had progressed fine, and they'd removed the bullet, but she had a pneumothorax - a hole in the lining of the lung - in her right chest from an errant central IV line placed by an intern.

              He recommended a three- or four-day stay in the ICU to recover from the blood loss and the puncture. Just after Grace was taken to ICU, Sam Foley arrived. Rick hadn't seen the man in over ten years. He was still built like a line backer, broad but lean.

              His big built was a perfect match for his big heart. Not a speck of gray shone in Sam's dark hair. Katie's hair was the same mink shade as he dad's, and both Sam's daughters had inherited the man's stubborn chin. Rick was pleased to learn that Katie had called her father, glad she was letting him and Sam help her.

              The days passed in a blur of bad coffee, medical updates, an emotional seesaw of alarm and relief. Katie looked worried but never became overtly upset. Just handled everything in her cool way and looked increasingly gaunt.

              By the fourth day, Grace was recovering well enough from the surgery and a mild pneumonia that they removed her chest tube and transferred her to a regular floor. Despite Grace's progress and the fact that Sam was there, Rick was the only one who could convince Katie to leave her sister's room. To eat, walk the grounds, to shower. But he couldn't get her to sleep, not even when he told her he'd sit with her. He marvelled at her composure, her stamina.

              He loved her. The words he hadn't let himself think for so long buried in his chest. He'd always loved her, figured he always would. Wanted to get her off somewhere alone and tell her, show her, but now wasn't the time.

              She remained upbeat with him, steady with Grace. Still, Rick sensed a subtle shift in her. Because of all the medical commotion, dealing with the police and Tommy's parole officer and getting updates from his uncle on the case against Henderson, Rick couldn't put his finger on what it was about Katie that seemed off. It was something he should recognize, but he didn't.

              She was incredible, so strong. He'd always recognized her independence, but he'd never given her credit for what those years of self-sufficiency had done for her. She was the core of her family, made all the decisions for Grace's care, made sure her father slept and ate regularly, even when she didn't. She never wavered.

              Until the fourth day. Even though it was just past surprise, Rick had been outside talking to his uncle on the cell phone. The FBI was waiting on Tommy and his evidence. Once they had it, they planned to pick up Steven Henderson, whose name was really Charles Antonio. Rick should get home, but Katie needed him.

              He walked in from the parking lot, the tap of his boots echoing on the tiled lobby floor. The doctors had pronounced Grace out of danger early this morning and said she looked as if she would recover fine, but they wanted to keep her at least two more days. He didn't want to leave Katie but didn't see how he could put it off after tomorrow.

              Pride filled him that she had, at last, allowed herself to lean on him. Even so, she hadn't cried, had barely expressed anger or shock over what had happened to Grace. She'd been as steady as the mountains surrounding them. Spending time with Grace, time with him.

              Needing to stretch his legs, he took the stairs rather than the elevator to the third floor. As he stepped into the empty corridor, the squeaking clank of a food cart drew his attention. An orderly and the cart he wheeled disappeared around the corner toward the nurse's station.

              Rick saw Katie leaning against the wall ahead of him. She stood with her back to him. Her shoulders looked slight in the coral linen cropped top she wore; the slim capri pants hung loosely on her. Had she lost weight?

              She was so still for a moment he thought she might be asleep, then she reached up to rub her temple.

              He walked toward her, glad she was taking a minute for herself. Her legs buckled and she wobbled suddenly. He lunged for her.

              "Whoa, darlin'." He caught her arm, steadied her. "You okay?"

              "Yes." She smiled brightly, but it looked like a desperate effort to him. Exhaustion lined her pale face. Dark circles ringed her eyes.

              "You need to get some rest."

              "I'm fine. I took a nap a while ago."

              "Liar," he said softly, gathering her to him. He spotted a couple of empty chairs in a small alcove by the stairs and walked her there.

              Sitting in one of them, he pulled her onto his lap.

              "Rick," she protested. "I'm fine."

              "Just sit here for a minute." He pressed her head to his chest. She looked like she was about to crumble. "Everything's under control. Your dad's with Grace. Just take a minute."

              "I want to be with you, talk to you."

              "We can be together right here, like this. Why don't you close your eyes for a while?"

              "I don't want to sleep. I'm doing all right," she said stiffly.

              "Yes, you are." He moved one hand up and down her arm, kneaded the nape of her neck, trying to loosen the tension he felt bowing her back and shoulders.

              She stared at him for a moment, the determination in her eyes giving way to resignation. Finally, she rested her head eyes giving way to resignation. Finally, she rested her head on his shoulder and let out a deep breath.

              "You're one amazing woman, Katie Foster, and you've been strong for everyone, but it's okay if you want to cry. Or get mad. There's only you and me here."

              "I'm fine, really." She sat up, flashed a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Did I already thank you?"

              "About a hundred times." Breathing in the soft shampoo scent of her hair, he narrowed his eyes. There it was again, that fleeting sense that something was wrong.

              "She was almost out of danger," Katie murmured. "Almost."

              He tipped her chin up with one knuckle. "You know that wasn't your fault. You're not blaming yourself."

              "No. I know it wasn't my fault. And I know it wasn't your bullet. I know where it came from. You were firing away from her."