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“Thanks.” Shannon hesitated, then spoke. “When the doctor came in this morning, he said I’d have to wear the bandages two weeks to give my eyes a good rest. Then…”
“Then we’ll know,” Kate said quietly.
“Yes.”
“Megan and I’ll be there for you. You know that.”
Shannon nodded, not quite able to envision the future. Fear returned.
Kate kept her entertained with tales of her newly adopted daughter Amanda, Mandy to the family, and Jeremy, Kate’s stepson, for the next two hours. When Kate mentioned Jess, her husband of three months, her tone changed, going softer, huskier.
As she listened to Kate’s quiet chatter, Shannon thought of Rory Daniels. Maybe he had been the man of cool light who had made her feel safe when she’d been so strangely lost in a hot, dark fog. Or was her dream man only an illusion created out of pain and delirium? Sometimes she still needed him….
“By the way, did Rory tell you he’d bought the place next door to us?” Kate asked when she stood to leave.
“No. What place?”
“The Mulholland land.”
The land had belonged to Kate’s mother-in-law. Kate’s first husband had grown up there. Kris had been several years older than she, a Vietnam vet suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. One minute he would be fine; the next, he would change into an angry, suspicious man lost in the jungles of his mind, sure the enemy was near and searching for him and his family. It had been eerie. The marriage had ended in Kris’s suicide. Kate deserved all the happiness she now had.
“Will Rory live in the house?” Shannon asked, curious since she’d recently had the ancient foreman’s cabin on the Windraven Ranch, across the creek from the Mulholland house, remodeled, and had planned to move in over Christmas.
Oh. She was supposed to be out of her apartment in town by the first of the year. “My apartment,” she began.
“Megan and I finished moving the last of your things and cleaned it. It’s all been taken care of. Your SUV is stored in the garage at the new place, too. Sorry. I should have told you earlier so you wouldn’t worry.”
“I’d forgotten until this moment.” Shannon lifted a hand to her temple.
Kate touched her shoulder, then gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Your mind is fine. Quit worrying.”
“It isn’t my mind I’m worried about, not really.”
“Oh, honey.” Kate hugged her fiercely, her protective, nurturing nature familiar and comforting. “We can only wait and see how things turn out. It’s hard, I know. You’ve been terribly brave.”
“Hardly. I wanted to ask, has anyone else come to visit that you know of?”
“Like a certain young attorney who’s new in town?” Kate teased. Her voice became serious. “Not that I know, but Jess said the sheriff had ordered no visitors other than immediate family. He had a deputy outside your door twenty-four hours a day during the week you were in a coma. He’s been pretty worried about you.”
“I guess he thought the robber would sneak in and smother me or something,” she scoffed, trying not to recall that Rory had somehow gotten in to see her.
Couldn’t Brad have found a way?
Maybe. If he’d loved her.
There were a lot of ifs in her life just now. She would have to take each day as it came. But she would be okay. She was sure of it.
Chapter Three
Shannon repeated that assurance to everyone who called the rest of the day and the next when Gene Thompson, the sheriff and her boss, came to visit. They discussed the case.
“There was no third man,” Shannon told the lawman. “The wounded guy was the perp.” She sensed his impatience at her stubborn denial in the silence that followed.
“According to his story, the third man was a customer who came in after you and the store owner were unconscious,” Gene said, his gruff voice gentle.
At six feet, six inches and two hundred-plus pounds, the law officer reminded her of a big, friendly bear. Under the tough exterior, he was all heart. He took it hard when one of his deputies was injured.
“They struggled, then the robber shot him and made his getaway?” she asked skeptically.
“Yes.”
Shannon mulled over the information. “Well,” she finally concluded, “I suppose the evidence shoots holes in my theory that the guy you let go was the robber, especially since the perp’s gun wasn’t on the premises. I know I shot the real crook. In the shoulder, too, just like the other guy had. The gun couldn’t have walked off by itself, and since Rory found three people on the floor, all of us unconscious, the robber must have escaped.”
“Yep. With nothing to go on, the case goes onto the back burner.”
She hit the flat of her hand on the chair arm. “I wish I could see the store, go over it…” She stopped, then shrugged impatiently, refusing to give way to despair.
“Don’t, honey,” Gene said softly. “You’re going to be fine. Everything has a way of working out.”
“Does it?”
“I have to believe that, or else I’d go crazy with the insane things people do. Like shoot people over money.” He stood. “Well, it’s back to work for me. I understand you’ll be going home today.”
“Yes, Megan is coming for me as soon as she finishes with her riding students this afternoon. Uh, the nurse said you wouldn’t allow any visitors in my room, except family,” Shannon said. “And Rory Daniels?”
Gene muttered a curse. “I told them no one other than Kate and Megan.” He snorted, then chuckled. “It’s his looks. Women melt when he glances at them. Must be nice.”
“I don’t know,” Shannon said on a lighter note. “It could be hell, having everyone fall all over you.”
“Could be. Wind River may not be heaven,” the sheriff said, abruptly changing the subject, “but it’s still a good place to live. Don’t let one incident spoil your life.”
“I won’t,” Shannon promised, thinking of the cards, flowers and candy she’d received. It had all been disposed of and her room was bare, ready for the next occupant when she left. She wanted to go. Ten days in a hospital was enough for a lifetime.
She kept smiling until the last of her visitors left at the close of visiting hours that afternoon, then she pondered the future. A week from Friday and the bandages would come off. Nine days until she knew her fate. A shaky, rather forlorn, sigh escaped her.
Shannon was surprised when the doctor and the second shift nurse came in a couple of hours later. “What’s happening?” she asked, alarmed by the sudden visit.
“We’re taking the bandages off,” replied the doctor.
Her heart lurched. “Now? I thought it was later.”
“Just the ones on your wounds, not the eyes. I don’t want any stress on them for a few more days.”
“Oh.”
When the wrappings came off, her head felt funny. She reached up to examine the injuries. Feeling a bristly stubble on the left temple, she remarked in surprise, “I’m bald on one side.”
The doctor chuckled.
“Not really,” the nurse assured her. She was a quiet, efficient person who spoke in a normal, friendly manner. “If you had bangs around your face and a layered look on the sides, the short hair would blend in with the rest in a couple of weeks.”
“Thanks. I’ll do that.”
After they left, Shannon found her brush and fussed with her hair. She wondered when she could shower. She must look terrible. On an impulse, she called the beauty shop.
Marilee said she would give her a shampoo and a cut whenever she appeared. “Don’t worry about other customers,” she said airily. “They can wait.”
Shannon felt better after hanging up the phone. She’d punched in the number without help. Her spirits lifted. It was a beginning. Today the telephone. Tomorrow the world!
She laughed until she realized she was close to tears. That wouldn’t do, not at all. She wasn’t going to get all weepy and make people worry about her when the doctor didn’t know anything yet. Besides, everything was going to be fine.
When Megan arrived, Shannon was ready to go, and they took off for home.
“Umm, the air smells so crisp and fresh,” Shannon said.
She found she could tell where they were by using her other senses. She recognized the clatter of the tires on the old trestle bridge when they went over the creek. She heard the cows at a dairy farm. The scent of incense cedar indicated the woods near the house.
When they arrived, she eagerly got out of the station wagon and waited for her cousin. She’d experienced a sense of vulnerability at leaving the known haven of the hospital, but now she wanted freedom from restrictions and routine.
“It snowed last night. The sun is out today and everything looks pristine,” Megan had told her. “Hold on. I’m coming as soon as I get myself together. It’s really cold today. It’ll be well below freezing tonight.”
Shannon waited for Megan to take her arm and lead her into the house. Lifting her face to the sun, she pictured the mountains, elegant in their coats of new snow. She loved the hills and the sense of family that came to her each time she returned to the ranch. Her roots were buried deep within the rocky soil.
With a painful lurch of her heart, she realized she might never see the place again. The hot darkness descended on her, as if someone had thrown a blanket over her head. She breathed carefully and fought for composure.
“Can you carry your personal belongings? Your gun’s inside the bag. Careful. The flagstones may be slippery.” Megan put a plastic bag into her hand and took her arm.
Shannon pulled herself back from the brink of panic. She walked through the snow to the side door of the sprawling two-story ranch house, guided by Megan’s touch and voice. “Here’re the steps. Up. Up. Let me get the door open. Okay, let’s go inside.”
“Home,” Shannon murmured when the door closed behind her. “It’s good to be here.” She inhaled the scent of fresh pine and cinnamon in the air. “Something smells good.”
“I made spiced cider before I left to pick you up. Kate sent over apple fritters. Mrs. Roddey cut some pine boughs and put them on the hearth.”
Mrs. Roddey was wife to the rancher who leased their land. “Where’s Grandfather?” Shannon stuck her gloves in her pocket, then hung her coat on the hall tree without help.
“He lay down for a nap a little bit ago. I think the worry over you has gotten to him. He’s looked sort of peaked the past few days.”
“Maybe Christmas was hard on him. It is for many people. It makes them feel lonely.”
“Go into the parlor,” Megan suggested. “I’ll take care of these bags and things.”
Shannon touched the door with her right hand, then, going on memory, walked into the parlor, which was the family gathering place.
The warmth of a fire in the fireplace reached out to her as she carefully felt for the glider rocker and took a seat. She exhaled a ragged sigh, as if she’d finally reached a safe place after an arduous trip. She hated the feeling of uncertainty, of being vulnerable—
“You did that very well,” a masculine voice commented.
Shannon gripped the arms of the chair. “Brad?”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” the man said with sardonic amusement. “Rory Daniels. I came by to check on a couple of Megan’s boarders and stayed to welcome you home.”
Shannon realized how ungracious she’d sounded. “Oh, yes, the Good Samaritan. Thank you again for your help.”
She realized Rory must be in the chair that used to be her grandfather’s. Sitting in the big leather recliner, her granddad used to read the Christmas story from the Bible every year on Christmas Eve. That was before the stroke that had left him paralyzed.
Things, times, people changed. A wise person accepted that fact. But it was hard.
“Don’t mention it. As a doctor, I’m dedicated to healing, no matter what kind of animal crosses my path.”
Was it her imagination or was his tone decidedly cooler than his earlier greeting? Had she offended him by thanking him for his help?
“That’s very commendable,” she replied with the exact inflection he’d used on her, irritated without knowing why.
There was a brief silence. “Your hair looks nice,” he commented.
Shannon’s hand flew to the bristly section at her temple. “I had it shampooed and cut before I let Megan bring me home. Marilee said it would blend okay in a few days.”
“It looks great now. You can hardly tell one side is shorter than the other.”
She didn’t want to ask, but there was something she’d worried over during the hours when she couldn’t sleep for thinking about the future. She thought he would tell her the truth. “What about the wound? Can you see where the bullet went in or…or anything?”
She hated the hesitation, as if she was afraid of his answer. She squared her shoulders and waited.
When he moved from the chair, she felt a stir of air near her face. Warmth touched her an instant before he did.
Fingers caressed the side of her jaw before sliding under her chin and lifting her face. She stared up at him, or where she imagined him to be.
She was wrong. When he spoke, she realized his face was nearly level with hers and very close. His breath caressed her cheek as he answered.
“The scar at your temple won’t be visible. Your hair will cover it completely when it grows another half inch. Now under your chin…”
She waited, her breath shallow, for his pronouncement.
“That might be noticed if someone is specifically looking for it, or if they happen to be at this level with your head tilted just so. Otherwise, it isn’t obvious. The surgeon did an excellent job of stitching it up.”
Her breath rushed out in audible relief. Feeling self-conscious, she tried to laugh. That sounded even worse.
“Nothing like being vain,” she finally managed.
“Everyone is,” he said softly, “to a certain extent. No one wants to feel like a freak.”
His tone was deep, with an unexpected huskiness that surprised and disturbed her. He’d sounded amused, cynical, maybe bitter, but also gentle and understanding. Which didn’t fit her image of him at all.
“Well, that’s one worry you’ve certainly never had,” she said, injecting wry amusement in her voice.
“Haven’t I?”
Wondering what he meant, she instinctively reached toward him, as if to check for herself that he was as she remembered. She encountered his lean cheek and chiseled jawline. He had classical good looks, the bone structure strong and masculine, his nose straight, his lips…she tried to think of a descriptive word and failed.
