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The expectation faded into mist, like dreams barely recalled when dawn came. She felt the loss deep within, a nostalgia for what might have been, rather than what actually was. She had longed for a great love. Without it, life would be lonely.
Inhaling carefully, as if the slightest movement might cause her to shatter, she thought of her guardian angel, the one who had comforted her and eased the fear with his cool touch. He hadn’t been real, but that didn’t stop her from clinging to the memory or the dream of him or whatever it had been. Maybe she would meet a man like that.
Riding that small raft of comfort in the troubled sea of darkness that was now her future, she drifted toward sleep once more.
Rory stood outside the door of room 212. He glanced at the pot of poinsettias he’d brought. They seemed pointless now, after he’d spoken with Shannon’s cousin in the parking lot. Shannon wouldn’t be able to see them. Both her eyes were bandaged. The doctors didn’t know the outcome yet. She might be blind.
He pictured her in her police uniform, swinging across the street with a bouncy step. Her hat had sat at a jaunty angle on her head, and she’d been leading a group of children across the street. The Pied Piper of Wind River, he’d thought in amusement at the time. The later picture, the one of her shot and bleeding, didn’t seem real.
A funny ache tapped behind his sternum as he went into the room. He wasn’t, he saw, the only one who’d thought of flowers. Vases and baskets of them covered nearly every surface and overflowed onto the floor, filling the corners of the room with lush color that reminded him of spring.
The patient was asleep.
He set the flowerpot on the windowsill, then stood beside the bed and studied her face. Beneath the massive bandages covering her head like a turban, he could see bruises along her left cheek. The rest of her face was pale.
Except for her lips. They were pink and full.
Her mouth wasn’t wide, but it had an appeal that made a man want to lean forward and experience for himself the taste of those dewy lips. For some reason he’d wanted to do the same thing at the parade that night.
Frowning, he drew back. He’d seen his share of attractive women… But there was something very appealing about this particular female—when she wasn’t arguing the opposite side of an issue with him. Maybe it was because she was asleep. A man just naturally wanted to wake her with a kiss.
Cynically amused at his own thoughts—Prince Charming he wasn’t—he stepped back from the bed and took in the whole array of medical equipment. The lady cop had been seriously wounded. If he’d been seconds later in arriving, the outcome could have been much different.
It certainly seemed to be an odd case, still of interest to the local news media, although the story hadn’t made it to national broadcasts.
The other two victims had been released from the hospital. The store owner couldn’t remember anything about the incident. The customer couldn’t identify the robber, who, he said, wore surgical gloves and a stocking over his face. Walking in on the robbery, he had struggled over a gun after the crook had shot the officer and the store owner and gotten himself shot as a reward for his efforts.
No gun or identifiable fingerprints had been found at the crime scene. There had been no trace of the perpetrator at the shoot-out, as the media had dubbed the incident due to the number of shots fired. Six in all, four from the robber’s gun, two from Shannon’s. If she ended up blind, then she wouldn’t be able to identify the perp, either, assuming the cops ever found the guy.
Rory didn’t know how much of the story was true. All his information came from the local paper.
He paused in his ruminations when Shannon shifted restlessly. Her lips moved in a murmur. Although his practice didn’t extend to the human animal, he checked her pulse anyway. It was fast. When she became more and more agitated in the grip of her nightmare, he debated ringing for the nurse and asking about a sedative.
As he hesitated, the sun emerged from a cloud. Its rays, streaming in through the window, caught in the strands of hair across the pillow. Fascinated, he stared at the luxuriant tangles. Her hair flowed from under the white gauze in long, curly tendrils. Where the sunlight hit it, the strands glinted in shades of tawny blond and auburn, like darkly burnished gold, a secret treasure waiting to be discovered.
He lifted a curl and watched it curve over his finger and cling, as if it had a mind of its own.
“Beautiful, isn’t it? And the color is natural. You can tell by the roots.” A nurse came in and checked various things—the patient’s vital signs, the level of water in a pitcher on the bedside stand. “Miss Bannock? How do you feel today? You want to sit up?”
Rory stepped back to give the nurse some space. He saw Shannon’s head turn toward the woman’s voice and tried to recall the color of her eyes. He noticed the smallness of her hand resting on the sheet.
She was on the slender side, but tall, probably five-eight, like her cousin, Kate, who had been a grade ahead of him in school from the time he started kindergarten until they’d graduated from the same state university a year apart.
He’d had a terrible crush on the “older” woman in high school, something she’d never known. After college, he’d gone on to vet school and Kate had married someone else.
“You have company today, someone other than your cousins and the sheriff and detectives,” the nurse reported to the patient in tones too cheerful to be real as she went to the other side of the bed, smoothing the covers as she did. “A handsome young man.” She cast him a playful glance.
“Hi,” he said, stepping up to the bed again. His voice came out as falsely cheerful as the nurse’s. He cleared it self-consciously. “How’re you feeling?”
Now that was a brilliant question to ask someone who’d been shot in the head. Disgusted, he tried to think of something to add, but his mind went blank. So much for social skills.
“Fine,” she said politely. “Uh, do you mind telling me who you are? I’m not good with voices yet. Except for Kate and Megan.”
“Rory Daniels. Sorry, I should have mentioned it.”
“That’s okay. Rory,” she repeated as if testing the name against some memory.
For a second, she seemed disappointed, then she smiled. Her lips tipped up at the corners and dimples appeared in her cheeks. Even with that just-begging-for-a-kiss mouth, the dimples made her look young and vulnerable beneath the pile of bandages.
“How nice of you to stop by,” she continued in a polite manner that set his teeth on edge. “Oh, and Happy New Year.”
As if they were at a tea party or some damn thing. It made his chest ache in that odd way.
The nurse pushed a button and the bed slowly rose, bringing the patient to a full sitting position.
When the bed stopped, Shannon turned toward him as if she could see. “It seems I have you to thank for saving my life. The paramedic said you called for help, then controlled the bleeding until they arrived. A very good Samaritan indeed.”
She stopped speaking. The alluring smile disappeared. The soft-looking lips trembled, then firmed as she smiled once more. He added self-control to her list of attributes.
“It was nothing. Don’t think about it if the memory bothers you,” he quickly said.
“No, I want to remember. Would you help by telling me everything you saw?”
He mulled over the scene at the mini-mart while the nurse brought a robe from the closet, deftly slipped it on the patient, then bent to put on slippers. “Why don’t you escort her down to the sunroom? The patient is tired of these four walls,” she said without checking with Shannon.
“Sure.”
Rory took hold of Shannon’s arm and steadied her as she got out of bed. The nurse, beaming with goodwill, saw them on their way, then bustled about straightening the room, her shoes making curious little noises on the tiles.
“This is the first time I’ve been out of the room since I got here. I’m sort of nervous,” Shannon admitted as they walked slowly down the broad corridor.
“So am I.”
“You? Why?”
“I want to kiss you.”
She stopped abruptly. Her head whipped around toward him, then she groaned and put a hand to her temple.
“Sorry,” he murmured, resisting an urge to put his arm around her waist and pull her closer. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I should have guarded my tongue.”
The smile fluttered over her lips. “Well, now that you have my attention, what did you really want to say?”
He laughed, relieved at her humor and sassiness. “Here we are. Turn right,” he directed.
They went into the pleasant, window-lined room. The winter sun played hide-and-seek through a thin covering of clouds. “Do you recall what the room looks like?” he asked.
“Not really. Windows and plants, I think.”
He described the potted trees and plants, the way the snow lay upon the rolling grounds of the hospital and on the peaks outlining the sky, the gleam of the sun shining on the red Mexican tiles.
“I brought you a poinsettia,” he added. “You have about a thousand baskets of flowers in your room. We should have brought some down here.”
“Good idea. I’ll tell the nurse.” She took a seat in the cane-backed rocker he directed her toward. “Now. Tell me what you saw when you went in the gas station. First, what kind of vehicles were outside?”
“That’s what Kate’s husband asked,” Rory told her. “He wanted every detail I could recall.”
Kate’s first marriage had ended in tragedy a few years ago. She’d recently married a cop. The man had a son, and the couple was adopting a little girl. When he saw them in town, they were the picture of a happy family.
For an instant, he felt the strangest emotion, then realized what it was—envy.
Not that he was still mooning over Kate, but sometimes a man felt the emptiness in his life. Like at Christmas.
Shannon nodded. “Jess is in charge of investigations for the department. He’s grilled me, too. Between him and the sheriff, I began to wonder if I had robbed the place and shot myself to cover up the crime.”
He chuckled at her wry grimace, which caused the dimples to flash in and out. “Let’s see, there was your SUV at the gas pump in front of my truck,” Rory said, picturing the gas station, its lights hazy in the falling snow. “A pickup was parked at the side of the building, where the air and water hoses are located. I think there was another one at the curb near the door. That was all I saw.”
“You didn’t see anyone driving off when you arrived?”
“No.”
“You didn’t notice any fresh tire tracks in the snow where someone might have just driven off?”
“No, sorry. Clues to a crime weren’t on my mind at the moment. I was thinking of home and bed. I didn’t notice anything until I walked in the store and saw three bodies lying on the floor.”
“I told the sheriff there wasn’t anyone else. The perp had to be the other man in the store.” She sighed and raised a hand to her bandaged temple. “No one believes me.”
Rory sensed her frustration. Lacking evidence, since the store owner didn’t remember anything at all, the sheriff had let the other man go when he was released from the hospital with only a slight flesh wound from the shooting. Without sight, Shannon couldn’t identify the man, even if he was the guilty party.
Eyeing the thick bandages, Rory considered her future. Being blinded in the line of duty was a hell of a way to end a police career. He wondered what she would do now.
“Take me back to my room, please,” she said suddenly, standing, her hands trembling as she reached out to him.
He wondered guiltily if she had somehow read his thoughts concerning her future. He took her arm and led her back the way they had come. Her cousin Kate was waiting for them. Seeing her reminded him of another reason for his visit. He removed an ATM card from his jacket pocket and handed it to Kate, along with a pair of glasses.
“The card was on the floor. I found the glasses in her hand,” he explained.
Kate gave him a hug for saving her “second favorite” cousin. Her smile was conspiratorial.
“Hey, I thought I was the favorite and Megan was second,” Shannon protested.
The lighthearted tone surprised him. Studying the lady cop and her smile, which looked rather comical, coming as it did from a head swathed with bandages, Rory felt that odd pang in his chest again. She was scrappy, this one.
Glancing at his watch, he saw it was time for him to report back to the office. “Duty calls,” he told the women. “Good to see you again, Kate. Take care, lady cop.”
He smiled for Kate and looked Shannon over once more, finding it hard to reconcile the confident, buoyant officer who’d held the world in her hands with the woman whose hands had trembled, whose steps had been hesitant, as he led her along the corridor. She’d changed yet again when she’d realized Kate was in the room, becoming cheerful and teasing. Putting on a show for her cousin.
He mentally cursed. Life, in case anyone hadn’t noticed, could be hell.
Shannon sensed Rory’s concern and recoiled. She wouldn’t accept pity from anyone. Holding on to the smile she’d assumed for Kate, she thanked him again for the plant and for stopping by.
After he’d left, she exhaled a relieved breath. Being sociable, especially with Rory, wasn’t her thing at the moment. Besides, she must look like a leftover from a Saturday-night brawl.
The irony of being concerned about her looks struck her as she climbed into bed. As if she had nothing else to worry about except combing her hair and putting on lipstick.
After handing Kate the robe and letting the fleecy slippers fall to the floor, she stretched out on the fresh sheets. She was as tired as a pilgrim returning home from a long dangerous trip to Mecca.
“Wow,” Kate said softly, “Rory Daniels. The prize catch of the county. Lucky you.”
Shannon managed a cheeky grin. “Yeah, should make local news, don’t you think?”
“It’s already gone the rounds. I heard he was here from Betty down at the bank. He’d bought a pot of poinsettias from the flower shop. Betty’s sister, who works there, told her. I suspect she’s told the rest of the town by now.”
Shannon laughed at the absurdity of the notion. Rory had never noticed she existed. Not until he walked into a convenience store and found three bodies on the floor, hers among them, she reflected, the internal darkness drawing around her once more.
The nurse bustled in. “Mail call,” she said and laid a new stack of cards in Shannon’s lap. “Well, now, it’s nice to hear you laugh. I’ll put that on your chart. The doctor will be pleased. This morning he said you could go home if you continued to improve as you have.”
Fear tightened Shannon’s throat. “I can go home?” she said, immediately worrying about where she would go.
“To the big house,” Kate said as if reading her mind. “Megan and Grandfather are expecting you. You can stay with them until the bandages come off and you decide what you want to do next.”
A beat of silence followed this announcement.
“Until we know if I’m blind or not,” Shannon said, saying what they all were thinking, making herself face the possibility. She felt again the hot flash of pain, the absurdity of being shot by some two-bit crook in a convenience store in a scene straight out of a B movie.
“Now, now, none of that,” the nurse chided. “There’s every chance you’ll be fine. You have to have faith.”
Shannon heard the little squeaks from the woman’s shoes as she arranged a lunch tray on the rolling table. After the woman left, Kate muttered in annoyance, “And a Happy New Year to you, too.”
Shannon agreed. “I know she means well, but she is the most irritating person. But I like the mice in her pockets.”
“Oh? I didn’t notice them,” Kate remarked, amusement in her tone.
Shannon explained. She was grateful for Kate’s wry humor and the fact that her cousin let her handle her lunch without help. Not that sipping a milk shake through a straw took a lot of skill. Neither did eating the paste that was supposed to be pudding.
Kate read the messages on the get-well cards out loud.
“Can you tell me who the flowers are from?” Shannon asked. “Rory said I had a roomful.”
When Kate read Brad’s name on a card attached to a vase of pink roses, Shannon perked up.
So he was busy on a case. Or maybe he’d gone to visit his folks in St. Louis this week, although he’d indicated he wasn’t going home for the holidays this year.
Reality reared its head. Some people were repulsed by those with a disability. Or scars. That was one worry she hadn’t voiced. It seemed so vain compared to everything else, but she had no idea how the wounds would look when they healed.
She would face that when the time came, she promised. Later. When she was alone and could think…
“There, done,” Kate said, finishing the cards.
