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After she woke in the ambulance, she’d remained conscious: a good sign, the doctor had told them. In the hours since they arrived at the hospital, they’d done an MRI. It showed no evidence of a skull fracture, or of epidural or subdural hematoma: no blood on the brain, which could cause swelling and brain damage.
The wound had required twenty stitches, but the doctor said things were looking good. They would keep her at Memorial through the night for observation, just to be on the safe side. In the morning, barring complications, she would be released.
As Tucker sat there regarding his shoes, the hospital staff was in the process of moving her to a regular room. Once they had her settled, Tucker was planning to make sure they let him and Lena in to see her one more time, for a minute or two at least. If he got lucky, he might even be allowed to pull up a chair and stay the night. Tucker sipped the bitter hospital coffee, stared at his shoes some more, and hoped only for that: to be allowed to spend the night slouched in an uncomfortable chair in the room where Lori slept.
He was more certain than ever now. She was the woman for him. He marveled at himself. Until Lori, he realized, he’d never been all that certain of much of anything.
Fourteen days had gone by since his first real sight of her, at the Gas ‘n Go. He’d held her in his arms only once—and still, he knew. Lori Lee Taylor was meant for him. And the very thought that he had almost lost her so soon after finding her…
Uh-uh. Not to be considered. It couldn’t happen. He wouldn’t let it.
And it wasn’t happening, so he could stop worrying about it. The doctor had as good as promised them that she was going to pull through okay.
Across the short expanse of dark blue commercial carpet that covered the floor of the waiting area, in the chair next to Dirk’s, Lena stretched and yawned. She leaned close to Dirk and whispered something in his ear.
Dirk grunted.
Lena, sliding a look at Tucker, nodded. “Oh, my yes. I know I’m right…”
Tucker sat up a little straighter and slugged back another gulp of bad coffee. “What?”
Lena braced her elbows on her knees and craned her head forward. She looked at him measuringly through those blue eyes so exactly like Lori’s—but still, strangely, not like Lori’s at all. “I think this is probably a dumb question. I mean, considering everything that’s happened tonight. But, Tucker, I’m gonna ask it straight out, anyway. Are you in love with my sister?”
One thing about Lena. She never had a problem with cutting to the chase. Tucker opened his mouth to say, simply, yes—and then reconsidered. It seemed wrong, somehow, to go talking to Lena about how he felt. Lori was the one he ought to be talking to.
And he would. As soon as she was feeling better.
“Well, are you?” prodded Lena, when the seconds ticked by with no answer from him.
Dirk stirred in his chair. “Honey, leave the poor guy alone.”
Lena smoothed her big, puffy skirt, sat up straight and spoke to her groom. “Well, she’s my sister and I do want to know. Plus, if Lori married Tucker, I bet she’d move back to town…” She slid Tucker another glance. “I just want to say, you know, for the record, that I am all for that.”
“Baby,” said Dirk.
Lena gave him her sweetest smile. “What, darlin’?”
Dirk leaned across the space between the seats and planted a quick kiss on his bride’s pretty nose. “Some things are none of your damn business, that’s what.”
Lena heaved a windy sigh and flopped back in her chair. “Oh, well. I suppose you’re right…”
The exchange surprised Tucker. The Lena he used to know would never have allowed any man to tell her a subject was none of her business. Apparently, true love really had changed her. Or maybe she’d just grown up a little.
Lena spoke again. “Well, Lori’s going to be okay. I know it in my heart. And that makes me so happy—even if she does head back to San Antonio and I don’t get to see her until the next time I go visit her.” She plunked her elbows on her knees again and canted Tucker’s way, bracing her pretty chin between her hands. “And, Tucker, you have saved her life and Brody’s, too, and my family owes you. In a giant way. Forever and ever.” Tucker didn’t know quite what to say to that one—not that it mattered. Lena went on talking. “And even if it is none of my business, I did notice that you and my sister were together all afternoon. And having a mighty fine time, too. Weren’t you? I’ll bet you talked about just everything…”
Dirk warned, “Lena…”
She reached across and patted his arm. “It’s all right, honey. I’m not gonna push.” Then she told Tucker, “It’s only that, well, after all you’ve done tonight, I want you to know that I truly do regret what Lori and I did to you, on prom night.” Tucker frowned at her, not getting it. Her smooth brow crinkled. “Lori did tell you, didn’t she?”
What they did to him…
Must be the coffee. His stomach churned. He asked, with great care, “What did you do to me?”
“Oh.” Lena blinked. “She didn’t say?”
Dirk grunted some more. “Lena, what are you talking about?”
Lena looked from her groom to Tucker and back to Dirk again. “Oh, Lordy. I do believe I have gone and put my foot in it.”
Dirk said, “Put your foot in what?”
Lena’s cheeks flushed pink. She sat up straight and started waving her hands. “Oh, really. I mean, it’s not that big a deal. After all, it was years and years ago and we were so young. And, um, pretty stupid, I guess. Pretty thoughtless. But, Tucker, you and I had broken up and I felt like I had to go to prom. I was up for prom queen and all. And folks always expected so dang much of me. So I did feel I should have put in an appearance—but at the same time, I didn’t want to go. And Lori’s date got sick on her. And she did want to go and…”
Tucker was getting it and it was not pretty. It was like some giant puzzle, random pieces flying everywhere, suddenly settling of its own accord into a recognizable whole. Tucker stared at Lori’s sister in a kind of numb disbelief as it all fell together.
Lori in pink at the wedding, bringing that long-ago night to life all over again…
Her scent, so haunting and familiar…
The very feel of her in his arms…
The perfect, remembered fit of her mouth to his…
Lena was still chattering away. “And Tucker, look at it this way. Even if Lori hasn’t told you yet about prom night, well, what was the harm, really, in what we did?” She fiddled with her big skirt, brushing at it, smoothing it. “Oh, I am just making much too big a deal about this.” She flung her arms wide again. “It was a very naughty little trick by two teenage girls, something you have to know both Lori and I wish we had never so much as considered…oh, and I do hope you’ll forgive us—both of us?”
Tucker couldn’t have answered her if he’d wanted to.
Dirk said, “Lena. I’m lost here. Stop circling the facts and spit ‘em the heck out.”
Lena let her flying hands fall to her lap. With another gusty sigh, she confessed to her husband, “Well, honey. Lori and I switched places on prom night eleven years ago. I stayed home and pretended to be Lori. She put on my pink prom dress and went to the dance with Tucker, in my place.”
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Dirk turned to Tucker. “And you never knew?”
Somehow, Tucker managed to answer, “‘Fraid not,” in a calm voice that betrayed nothing of the emotional tornado wreaking havoc within him. At the same time, the last piece of the puzzle spun in his mind, stopped, hovering in a holding pattern above the rest—and then dropped neatly into place.
That final piece had Brody’s face on it.
Chapter Nine
Maybe twenty seconds after Lena blew the whistle on that night eleven years ago, the doctor who’d taken charge of Lori when she reached the hospital appeared through the wide swinging doors to the patient area.
Lena, in a rustle of heavy skirts, jumped to her feet. “Dr. Zastrow, can we see her? Just for a minute or two, please?”
The handsome young doctor gave Lena a smittenlooking smile. “She’s all settled. Resting comfortably—and as for paying her one more visit, how can I refuse such a beautiful bride?”
Dirk got up then, fast, and went to draw Lena close to his side, making it clear to the doctor that this particular bride was very much taken. “Thanks,” he said flatly. “Which room is she in?”
Lena turned to Tucker, who’d yet to rise from his chair. “Tucker. Come on. We can go in now…”
He got up—not too fast; he felt slightly light-headed. And he took the few steps that brought him nose to nose with the good-looking surgeon. “You’re sure. She’s okay now?”
Zastrow smiled his movie-star smile. “She’s doing very well. I think, by now, it’s safe to say that she’s out of the woods.”
Lena quivered with impatience. “Tucker. Come on. Let’s go…”
But Tucker wasn’t going. He didn’t want to see her right then. He couldn’t see her—couldn’t trust himself not to…
No. Better not.
He turned to Lena. “I think I should head on over to your folks’ place, tell them the good news—and tell Brody, too, if he’s still awake.”
Brody, he thought, and then, impossibly, my son…
But wait. There was still that other guy from the night after the one she’d spent with him…
Or was there? Who the hell knew? Only Lori—sweet, beautiful Lori, who’d been lying to his face all along.
He still couldn’t quite get his mind around the thousand and one ways she’d pulled the damn wool over his eyes. Lie after lie after lie. He had a lot to say to her and none of it was pretty—which meant he didn’t dare to see her now. Not while she was flat on her back with twenty stitches in her head.
“But Tucker,” Lena wheedled, “you don’t need to go all the way over to the house. We can give my folks a call. And Lori’s expecting you, looking forward to—”
“No.” He fell back a step and put up a hand. “I should go. Tell her for me that I’ll see her…real soon. Tell her to get well quick.” Before Lena could argue any more, he spun on his heel and headed for the wide hallway that led out of there.
A minute or two later, he shoved through the hospital doors into the windy darkness of the night. The rain had stopped. Sometime during the long hours they’d waited to learn if Lori would make it, the wind had pushed the clouds along. Beyond the cover of the front entrance porte cochere, the sky was clear and thickly scattered with stars. He reached in his pocket for his keys…
And he remembered.
He had no damn car. It was somewhere in the club parking lot—maybe totaled and buried under the liftedoff roof of the clubhouse or an uprooted oak. Hell if he knew. And hell if he cared right at that moment.
He cared about getting where he was going, period—to the Billingsworth house, where he could see Brody. But Memorial was ten miles out of town and Tate’s Junction was too small to support a cab company. Tucker stood there in the darkness, beneath the jut of the porte cochere, staring out at the stars, swearing under his breath and considering his options.
Dirk might loan him the keys to whatever vehicle he and Lena had taken to get to the hospital. But to get those keys he’d have to go back inside and find Lena’s new husband, who was probably with her in Lori’s room…
Uh-uh. Not happening.
Tucker got out his cell and actually raised a dial tone. But he flipped it shut before auto-dialing the ranch. He didn’t want to drag anyone out of bed at that hour, not Tate and not Jesse Coutera, who ran the Double T garage. He could call a poker buddy, or his semiretired partner, Leland Hogan…
No. Same problem. It was a bad hour for asking favors. And he’d have to be civil to whoever he called; you didn’t call a buddy at midnight asking for a ride and not make some kind of effort to explain why. Tucker wasn’t feeling civil; he was in no mood to explain anything. He put his cell away.
Hands stuffed in his pockets, he started walking, thinking, as he strode across the parking lot, that walking was pretty stupid. It would take him hours to get to the Billingsworth place on foot.
But he didn’t much care right then how long it took. He only knew he was going there, that when he arrived, he would see Brody and…
Hell. And what? He didn’t know.
He didn’t know anything, really. But then again, he’d been around the damn world and never really known where he was going. At least, tonight, his destination was clear.
The wind was in his face, warm and still smelling of rain. He peeled off his jacket, slung it over his shoulder and kept on walking.
Lena patted Lori’s shoulder. “Dr. Zastrow says you’re gonna be just fine. I am so relieved. I can’t tell you. You gave us one whopper of a scare.”
Lori stared at the empty doorway that Tucker should have come through. She lifted a careful hand and touched the bandage wrapped around the top of her throbbing head. Her head wasn’t the only thing that hurt. Her whole body felt stiff and sore and she also had a kind of disembodied feeling, as if none of this was real.
And why hadn’t Tucker come to see her again?
“I’ll be back as soon as they’ll let me,” he’d whispered to her before he left her side the last time. He’d kissed her—a gentle brush of his lips against her own. “It won’t be long,” he promised.
So where was he now? She touched her mouth, where the feel of that feather-light kiss still lingered. Oh, she just didn’t get it. “Tucker said he was going to Mama and Daddy’s?”
Lena pasted on a bright smile. “That’s right. He said he’d see you real soon and for you to get well.” She patted Lori’s shoulder some more.
Lori shut her eyes. When she opened them again, Lena was still there, looking down at her, smiling fondly.
What a sister, Lori thought. Lena’s hair straggled free of her formerly elegant upswept do. She had a smudge of dirt on her cheek and her wedding dress was torn at the sleeve and stained with soot and mud—and still, she was forcing brave smiles.
I’m so very fortunate, Lori thought, to have a sister like this one: a sister who called all the time, whether I called her back or not. A sister who never gave up on keeping the family connection, a sister who didn’t even hesitate to spend her wedding night at the hospital in her ruined bride’s gown, waiting for a chance to pat me on the shoulder and tell me I’m going to be fine.
Lori said, softly, “Did I tell you? You’re the most beautiful bride I ever did see.”
Lena’s eyes got misty. She sniffed. “Yes, I did look pretty amazing and gorgeous, didn’t I?”
“You still do. Absolutely beautiful…”
Lena sniffed some more and lightly punched the shoulder she’d been patting. “Oh, stop.”
“I’m grateful to have a sister like you.”
“Now, I mean it. You will have me bawling my eyes out and we don’t need that.”
“I haven’t always appreciated you and I know that.”
“Okay, okay. You’re definitely on to something, here. I won’t deny it.”
“But things are going to change, I promise. From now on, I’m going to work as hard as you always have, to keep that special connection between us.”
“Good.” Lena sniffed once more. And then she grinned. “Move home.”
“I don’t know about that—yet.”
“Wow. You should get hit on the head more often—” Lena caught herself. “No. Scratch that.” She pressed her hands together and cast her gaze heavenward. “I never meant that, Lord.” She let her hands drop and looked ruefully at Lori. “I can’t believe I said that. It was horrible, all of it, and I would never want anything like it to happen again.”
Lori reminded her, “Still. You know what they say—bad luck at your wedding, good luck for the rest of your married life.”
Lena sent a soft look over her shoulder at Dirk, who’d made himself comfortable in the corner chair. “I guess we’re headed for the luckiest marriage in history.”
“No doubt about it.” Lori glanced toward the door again and sighed.
“What?” Lena prompted tenderly.
