If Wishes Were Horses (24 page)

According to the police report, Justin  Herne had found her in her home and hadused CPR to  keep her heart beating. Eric  Wassler suspected he had used everything up to and including selling his soul to Satan to keep her alive.

Marion’s police chief stood outside her door  now. Pale as a  ghost she was,  but she was propped on some pillows and smiling at  something the nurse had said. Justin hadgiven them  a moment alone, choosing to stand in the hallway, but he hadn’t gone far

115

Joey W. Hill

away. Wassler could still see him out of the corner of his eye, hovering in the waiting

area.

Her men had sent all sorts of balloons and  flowers that she’d finally been able to

have in her  room when they moved her out of the Gainesville critical care area.

She saw him and smiled wider, holding out her hand in a gesture of affection somewhat uncoplike, but permissible due to the circumstances, and since she was female. He was glad for it, for it gave him  the chance to give her cheek a kiss and her frail body a hard hug.

“Damn, I didn’t realize quite how much I liked you,” he said roughly, holding her at arms length. “Aren’t they feeding you in here?”

She chuckled and waved at the assortment of  chocolates. “I get to go back to solid

foods Monday. My system is too  weak to do  digestion. I’ve been tempted to  bolt down a box and just suffer the consequences, but  the nurses have terrified me with  graphic descriptions of throwing up my internal organs  if I do one thing they don’t tell me I can do. You should have come sooner.”

“I did.” He  pressed her hand. He  had visited her often as she hovered between life

and death, one of many who had.

“I’ve been here before, Eric,” she said, sobering. “I’m still not ready to go.”

“Glad to hear it, but  let’s not test it again,  okay? I think you’ve made your lifetime  quota of near misses.” He cleared his throat. “Sarah, I need to…I’m going to ask you once. I asked Justin, and he  said it was for you to  say. Your symptoms. The lowered temperature…”

She nodded. Her blue eyes had  a serenity in them, he realized, something shehadn’t had before. Her first brush with death and her divorce had brought her demons.  Her second brush appeared to have dispelled them.

“It was the  same thing, Eric. Justin was right. It wasn’t something of this world,

though I suspect it was created by it. It’s gone now,  thanks to Justin and the coven, and we don’t…it’s no longer a police matter. There won’t be any more victims in our  county, or anywhere else. Not from this perp.”

He studied her for a long moment. He knew  her to be level-headed, a great cop, and  there wasn’t a trace of delirium in her eyes, just practicality. He also knew if she  thought there was still a threat, they’d be having to tie  her to  the bed to keep  her from going after it.

“Okay,” he  said, and left it at that. The report on Lorraine Messenger was a closed file, and since Sarah was not filing a criminal  report on her illness, so was this. He put a  hand over hers again,  squeezed. “You get  back to work soon, hear? Dexter’s getting  delusions of grandeur, being in charge.”

She grinned, and he tried to focus on the sparkle in her eyes versus the gauntness of  her cheeks. “You bet. Is Justin still out there?”

116

If Wishes  Were  Horses

“I don’t think he’s been further than a  hundred feet from you since they brought  you here,” Eric said dryly. He grinned at the sudden pink tint of her cheeks. “You let me know if you want a restraining order filed, hear?”

* * * * *

It was several more days before Justin chose to expand that distance. Her parentswere due in today, for against his wishes she had not permitted him to call them untilnow, when it was obvious she was going to pull through.

Justin pulled up a chair beside her. Sarah expected him to take her hand as he had so often, but he didn’t. “I need  to say something to you,” he said.

For the first time in the short time they'd known each  other, Justin Herne  looked

unsure of himself.

“A lot of things happened in those very  few moments,” he said at last. “They say  the Lord and Lady can instill full enlightenment upon a mind in the space of a breath,  but that the human mind is a  sieve. I couldn't  hold onto all of it, but I did get some of it.

You're an incredible person, Sarah.”

He should have reached for her hand then,  but he didn't. She wondered why, for he was not acting emotionally distant. Quite the contrary. His eyes  were full of need for her.

“An amazing, intelligent woman with a generous heart. I knew some of that, but on  that plane I felt every aspect of who you  are, who you've been, who you'll be.  I realized  how much I’ve taken from you when I should  have been asking.  You deserved to be  courted. I wanted you, instantly and more desperately than I've ever wanted anything,

except  to  get  my  daughter  back.  So  I  rolled  over  you,  no  different  than  that  incubus,

overwhelming you.”

“Justin—”

He shook  his head.  “It’s important I  tell you this, Sarah. Hear me  out. I did lie toyou. Sin of omission is bullshit. The excuse  that you wouldn’t believe what I knew, also bullshit. I didn’t tell you because I couldn’t  talk about it, wouldn’t talk about it. Or  Lorraine.” He rubbed a hand over  his face.

Sarah realized for the  first time how exhausted he was. Why hadn’t she noticed how pale he had become these last several weeks, how that gaunt hardness  of his face had gotten more pronounced? She reached out, covered his hand, offered him comfortfor a change.

“Justin, you don’t need to say all  this. You  need to go home. Rest, eat a decent meal instead of some of this liquefied  crap off my tray, and worry about yourself for a littlewhile. You’ve seen me through the worst of it. I’m going to be okay.”

He turned his hand,  tightened  his grip on  hers until she winced and he  let go,easing off immediately. “It was pride, Sarah.  He took my choices away. He gave me my

117

Joey W. Hill

angel, but deep underneath all of that, he  tricked me, forced my body, and that deeply  offended me. Pissed me off. Disturbed the hell out of me. Whatever you want to call it.”

A woman would have called it rape, a violation. It was even harder for a man to say  it, particularly a man like Justin Herne. She had forgiven him for not revealing what  had happened, but her forgiveness had come because he had been there in the  desperate moments when it counted. Now Sarah let go any lingering distrust, because she truly understood his silence. She had seen  his actions in relation to herself, never as a man who had been victimized. Seeing it in  that  light, his silence made perfect sense.  She was hearing truth, at last.

“If I had told you sooner, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Was there any way to stop him, other than how you did it?” she asked.

“What?”

“You heard me. Was there any other way?  You couldn’t predict where he would go  except that one instance, because  you knew  his pattern  of going to the woman whose  form he took.”

“If I had had time to research—”

“Then he could have harmed someone else.”

“Linda—”

“Would be in this  bed instead  of  me. You  think that I would accept that? I wear a

badge, Justin. It’s my job to protect.”

“I know. I knew it that  night. That’s why…damn it.” He started up out of the chair,  walked over to the window and stood there,  his shoulders rigid. “I could have told the  dispatch rookie that someone was breaking  into  your  home, anything,  and  the cavalry would have come and scared him away. But I  didn’t, because I knew you’d want to get  him. Then I felt you die in my arms, and I  knew I’d never forgive myself if I lost you.”

“But you didn’t lose me. You hung onto  my soul, Justin, you wouldn’t let it fly  away. I am alive because of you.  Please come back over here. Please.” Her eyes were  wet, and he came. She took his hand as he sat on the edge of  her bed, and she held onto  it with the same fervency with which he had poured  his life into hers that night,

keeping her breathing. “It’s my job to protect. Just like  it is yours.” She laid  her free  hand over his heart and felt it  beat beneath her touch. “You wear your badge here, but I  can see it. I would have made the same choice, if it had been me.”

“I didn’t give you a choice when we met,  Sarah. I took advantage of your every  weakness to  claim you as mine, didn’t give you a chance to think it through. I still want  you,” his voice dropped and he flicked a glance at her, filled with that hunger. “But I’m  going to step back and give you the time  to think it through, time to choose.”

“What?” Her brow furrowed. “You’re leaving me?”

“No.” His hand contracted on hers, that  brief, hard grip. “I’m not going anywhere,  Sarah. You want me as your lover, I’m all yours. You want a friend, you’ve got one. You  need me just to be a shopkeeper in your jurisdiction,” a muscle ticked under his eye, “so

118

If Wishes  Were  Horses

be it. I took away your rights, Sarah, so I’ve got no claim on you, until you want to make one on me. I want you, I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere, but I'm going to give you the time and space to make up your own mind.”

He bent, pressed a kiss to her hand, then  he brushed his mouth against her cheek, catching the corner of her ready, confused lips.

“Now, your parents are here. That’s the other thing I came to tell you. I asked them  to give me a couple minutes because I knew you’d want to  make yourself presentable, but you’re beautiful. You eat, grow strong  again.” He stood, looked down at her.  “Lilesville needs you, and so do I.”

* * * * *

Well, he certainly had a damn fine way of  showing it. A week passed, then another.  He did not abdicate a single responsibility.  He had left her  in capable hands, well on the road to recovery. She came home to find  he had arranged for someone to mow her yard, prune and weed her previously neglected flower beds, even air out her house that morning before she arrived. The guys at the station had taken her  cat, let him live at the station and returned him to her house the day before she was released so he was there to greet her. There were vases of fresh wildflowers in every room, but no note.

She wasn’t due at work for another couple of weeks and the inactivity only enhanced her frustration. Whether she read  a novel, chose something on  TV, or lay

down for one of a multitude of naps, inevitably he was there in her mind.

Those serious eyes, those arousing hands. His voice. As her strength returned, so  did her libido, and she touched herself in the  desolate  hours of the night and longed  for  her clever but mechanical fingers to be his. She almost called him a hundred times. When she put down the receiver for time  one hundred and one, she figured it out.

Since Chicago, she’d been afraid to open her heart, give  herself to a man. Justin had  to force her to consider  the possibility again because she’d been as terrified as the victim of a convenience store crime venturing out for  a pack of cigarettes again. He’d given her  a taste of what was possible.

More pain, certainly. Failure, very possibly.  Or, if all the pieces fell in the  right  place, and they were both willing to devote themselves to  making it work,  a lifetime  commitment. The love  she’d been looking for  in her first marriage. But if he was going  to commit to it, he wanted her to do it too, out in the open. A straight-forward  declaration, no hiding behind trumped  up slights or imagined betrayals.

He thought he was so clever, presenting  it like some  noble sacrifice on his part, looking at her with those heated eyes, mouth curving in that way that made her remember just what those lips could do to  her. While she was lying in her sick bed no less, where even imagining sex of  such explosive proportions could  kill her.

Well, she wasn’t on her deathbed now, and she missed him, and he’d pissed her off  again. He was going to answer for it. She  decided to go to Fred’s Pharmacy and get a

119

Joey W. Hill

double chocolate milkshake, complete with  mini chocolate peanut butter cups. Then

she’d call Linda.

120

If Wishes  Were  Horses

Chapter 17

Justin had avoided driving by Sarah’s house as much  as possible, but today there was no help for it. Linda and the coven were meeting him at a meadow off of Route 17.  They were scoping it out as a perfect area for the first multi-county pagan festival theywere planning to host and wanted  his thoughts on it.

Her car wasn’t there.

She was putting effort into avoiding him.  Not one time in the past several weeks since she had gotten out of the hospital had  he seen her, not even at a distance. Fine, then. If she didn’t have the guts to reach out  and take love when it was offered to her,he’d just…be miserable, go drag a commitment  out of her, force her to accept  him as heknew her heart and soul already did.

No, that’s not the way it worked. If she’d  made her choice, so be it. But he would damn well call her or maybe go see her if he  didn’t hear from her by the end of theweek, so she would have to tell him to his face. He wouldn’t press her, but he…oh hell, yes he would. He was in aching, screaming misery, his heart and his cock brothers-in-arms, tormenting him  for the stupidity of his  resolve. Wasn’t all fair in love  and war? Who was he to change the rules and give her a choice? He deserved this misery. Fools deserved what they  got.