Lone Star Lonely (16 page)

Blinking, she tried to see him clearly, but
she couldn’t. His face swam and danced in front of her. Her bed
tilted, and she felt certain she was about to be dumped onto the
floor. She reached for Adam, and he was there, gripping her
shoulders, his hands strong and solid. The sensation of falling
faded. The room around her straightened, and she relaxed. “Don’t
let go,” she whispered.

“I don’t plan to.”

When she opened her eyes again, her vision
was clearer. Adam stood beside her, one hand still holding her
shoulder, the other gently stroking her hair. Around her, the
familiar accoutrements that told her she was in a doctor’s office.
Stainless steel and glass, bottles and bandages. The giant domed
light above her. The tall white scales in the corner.

And Adam. Holding her. Holding on to her just
the way he’d promised he would.

She remembered then. The wild ride, the
gunshots that had followed her, pursuing her like death itself. The
burning pain and paralyzing shock of a bullet slamming into her
head like a red-hot mallet. The moment of horror as she realized
she’d been shot.

Lifting one shaking hand, she touched the
spot from which the pain seemed to emanate, and found thick, soft
bandages there.

“It was only a graze.”

“Was it? It felt more like a freight train,”
she muttered.

“I’ll bet it did. Here, take this.” He
slipped a tablet between her lips, then cupped her head, lifted her
and held a paper cup to her mouth. She sipped the water, swallowed
the pill. “Tylenol with codeine,” Adam told her, lowering her head
to the pillow once more. “It’s mild, but it ought to help with the
pain.”

She nodded, then looked around the oddly
silent place for the doctor.

“We’re alone,” Adam said, reading her the way
he always had. “It’s only 3:00 a.m. Lucky for us, Doc doesn’t have
any fancy locks on his office doors. Just a simple tumbler that’s
easy as hell to pop open.”

Holding her throbbing head with one hand, she
sat up slowly. “Adam, that’s illegal…. God, stealing drugs…you’re
going to wind up in jail.”

“Not unless we get caught.”

“Jail’s the least of your worries, you
two.”

Adam’s head came up fast, and Kirsten’s heart
jumped…but settled as she recognized Elliot’s voice. The youngest
Brand brother came light-stepping his way through the clinic and
found them in the little treatment room. Squinting through the
darkness, he nodded a greeting toward his brother. Then he came
closer to Kirsten, eyeing her with real concern.

“I saw the blood. Figured I’d find you here.
I wondered which one of you took the bullet. You okay,
Kirsten?”

“It hurts like hell, but Adam says it’s just
a graze and I’ll be fine.”

Adam pocketed the pill bottle he’d taken from
Doc’s locked cabinet. “You sure you weren’t

followed here?” he asked, and his tone was
sharp.

“You think I’m an idiot?” Elliot
countered.

Adam only sighed. “What the hell happened out
there, El? Since when do the border guys shoot first and ask
questions later?”

“Since never.” Elliot shifted his worried
gaze from Kirsten to Adam and back again. “I talked to them.
Convinced them I was just an innocent passerby out for a midnight
ride and that I’d unwittingly stumbled into the cross fire. And
then I asked them the same damn thing. Why they were firing at
shadows in the night.”

“And what was their answer?” Adam
prodded.

“They claim the shadow shot first.”

Both men looked at Kirsten sharply. She
blinked, confused. “I don’t understand.”

“The officers swear you shot at them,
Kirsten,” Elliot explained. “They say they returned fire, but only
after you fired at them. And frankly, hon, I’m inclined to believe
them.”

She blinked at him, so confused the dizziness
returned. “But…I didn’t even have a gun.”

“I know that,” Elliot said.

“But somebody did,” Adam said slowly,
thinking aloud. “Somebody fired at those border guards.”

“I don’t understand.” Kirsten searched both
men’s faces, saw the knowing glance the two brothers exchanged, the
nod of affirmation that passed between them. As if they’d already
figured out something she wasn’t seeing just yet.

“Those boys are too well trained to just
start shooting at shadows, Kirsten,” Adam said, his eyes on his
brother. “I don’t think they would have fired if they hadn’t
believed you did. And I think that’s just what someone wanted them
to believe. Somebody fired the first shot. But it wasn’t you, and
it wasn’t the border patrol.”

“Whoever it was, they did it deliberately,”
Elliot added. “Knowing damn well it would force the border patrol
to return fire.”

“And they damn near got you killed,” Adam
finished. He stood in front of her, staring into her eyes, his own
so tortured that she could feel his pain. “Thank God it didn’t
work,” he whispered. And he pulled her against him, held her. His
heat warmed her, and his heart beat hard against her. “Thank God
you’re okay.”

Her arms crept around his waist. She didn’t
want him to let her go.

“Why did you run away, Kirsty?”

She closed her eyes. “I…I thought it would be
better for you if I just…got the hell out of your life, once and
for all.”

He shook his head slowly, staring down at
her. “Honey, you tried that once. It didn’t work.”

“I know,” she whispered. Then, slowly, she
pulled herself away from his embrace. She had to think, had to
figure this out. “You think the man who fired the first shot was
the same man who killed Joseph, don’t you, Adam?”

“Yeah,” Adam said. “I don’t know what else to
think. I just want to know why.”

“Could be he thinks she can identify him,”
Elliot said slowly. He paced across Doc’s floor, then came back to
her again.

“But he knows he was covered head to foot
when I saw him. He has to know I couldn’t possibly have any clue
who he is.”

Elliot shrugged. “Maybe you have a clue you
aren’t aware of.”

Adam rubbed her back, soothing the tension
that coiled her muscles tight. “Is the pain any better?’’

“A little.”

“If it comes back, say so. You can take
another one of these if you need to.” Stepping back a little, he
pulled the pill bottle from his pocket, then stood frowning at it.
“Hell, I forgot.”

“What?” she asked.

Adam glanced at Elliot, then back at her.
“This.” He handed her the bottle. Not the codeine, but a
prescription bottle with Joseph’s name on it.

“I found it at your house,” Elliot said,
coming back to the table where she sat. “It’s a narcotic used for
pain. A powerful one. Do you have any idea why your husband would
have been taking something this potent?”

She shook her head. The movement hurt, and
she winced. “No idea at all. I didn’t even know he’d seen a
doctor…this doctor. Doc’s name is on the bottle.”

“Yeah,” Elliot said, meeting Adam’s eyes.
“And Doc’s files are in the next room.”

Adam licked his lips, sent Kirsten a
questioning glance.

Kirsten nodded once. “We’ve come this far. We
might as well compound the charges as much as possible, right?”
Bracing her hands on Adam’s shoulders, she slid to the floor. He
gripped her waist, steadied her. With his presence and his warmth
as much as with his hands. And with the look in his eyes.

“Okay?”

“So long as you hold on to me,” she
whispered.

He bent, pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“Don’t worry. I’m not letting go. Not this time.”

Elliot cleared his throat and discreetly
stepped out into the hallway.

“That’s not what I meant,” Kirsten said when
he’d gone.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s what I mean.”

“But, Adam, you don’t know—”

“But I will know. And if you think this deep,
dark secret of yours is going to make a difference to me, you’re
wrong. But you’re not going to realize that until you open up to
me, Kirsten. Give me the chance to show you that I’ll stand by you
this time.” He squeezed her waist, looked down at her. She couldn’t
hold his gaze. Guilt twisted her heart up in knots. Adam sighed
softly. “But I guess I have to wait until you’re ready to tell me.
Come on, Elliot’s waiting.”

He led her into the hall, placed her hand on
the wall and let go of her long enough to go to the door, where
Elliot was already at work.

The younger Brand jimmied the lock on Doc’s
office door. Then he swung it open. “Yesss,” Elliot whispered with
a flourish.

“I don’t even want to know where you learned
that particular skill,” Adam said. He put his arm around Kirsten’s
shoulders and guided her inside. “Sit here,” he said, easing her
into the soft chair near Doc’s desk. Then he turned to the file
cabinet, tinkered with the drawer and finally got it open while
Elliot looked on.

“I see I’m not the only one in the family
with a talent for criminal acts,” Elliot quipped when Adam slid the
drawer open.

“Yeah. Must be from those outlaw ancestors of
ours.”

Elliot grinned and leaned closer, while Adam
began perusing the files. Kirsten couldn’t sit still as Adam
thumbed through the folders and finally pulled one out. Pushing
herself to her feet, she moved unsteadily closer. Adam had flipped
the folder open, was reading slowly. Elliot was leaning over him,
reading as well. They looked at each other, and almost in unison
the two Brands swore softly.

Kirsten gripped Adam’s arm. “What is it? What
does it say?”

Licking his lips, Adam looked down at the
sheets in front of him. “Carcinoma. Inoperable. Prognosis,
terminal.” Then he met her eyes. “Cancer,” he said softly. “Doc
gave Joseph two months at the outside. And this is dated six weeks
ago.”

It took a moment for the words to sink in,
for their meaning to become clear to her. “Joseph…had cancer? He
was dying? But Adam, how could I not know something like that?”

Adam sighed, flipped a page, read on. “Doc
made some notes here. It doesn’t sound as if the end was going to
be pretty. Says he was concerned the patient might resort to
suicide.”

“It looks like it was a fast-moving disease,”
Elliot said. “And with the Percodan, the symptoms might have been
tough to spot. Especially if…well, I take it you two didn’t spend a
whole lot of quality time together. I can’t believe Doc thought
that old goat was capable of suicide, though. He was too mean….”
Elliot looked up fast. “I mean…sorry, Kirsten, I didn’t mean….”

“He was mean, all right,” she said. Closing
her eyes, lowering her head, Kirsten whispered, “But that’s just
what he did. He killed himself, but he hated me so much, he set me
up to take the blame. He’s framing me for murder, even though he’s
already dead by his own damn hand. I knew it. I knew it.”

Adam met Elliot’s eyes, and Elliot shook his
head. “That can’t be right,” he said. “I’ve read the police files
on this—”

“And just how the hell did you manage that?”
Adam asked.

Elliot dismissed the question with a scowl
and a shake of his head. “The point is, I did. And this can’t have
been a suicide. Kirsten, they checked Joseph’s hands for powder
traces. There was no sign. And there would have been—make no
mistake, there would have been—if he’d fired that gun. Besides, his
prints weren’t on the weapon.”

“Then he wore gloves.” She spoke levelly,
firmly, not an ounce of doubt in her mind.

‘‘And took them off and got rid of them…after
putting a bullet into his own head?” Elliot shook his head. “Don’t
you see how impossible that is?”

“Then he had help.” She lifted her head,
looked Elliot squarely in the eye. “And that help wasn’t me. Do you
believe me, Elliot?”

Elliot swallowed hard, looked at his brother,
then back at Kirsten again. “Yes. I do. But I wouldn’t count on
that for much, Kirsten. I always was a sucker for a pair of pretty
brown eyes.”

He was trying to lift her spirits with his
charm and his infectious smile. Elliot the lighthearted, practical
joker. Always kidding. Always upbeat.

She was grateful for the effort, but it was
falling on sterile ground this time. She turned her question on
Adam now. “And what about you? Do you believe me now, Adam? Do you
believe that Joseph is the one who set this up to make me look
guilty?”

He nodded without hesitation. “You know I
believe you. But it brings up another question, doesn’t it,
Kirsty?” She just watched him, waiting. “Why did he hate you that
much? What the hell reason would Joseph have to hate you so very
much that his dying wish was to see you convicted of his murder?
And why is someone—his accomplice, maybe—trying to kill you
now?”

“Ease up on her, Adam.” Elliot’s voice was
anything but jovial.

“Why, Kirsten? Think. There has to be
something, some motive—”

“I don’t know. Dammit, Adam, I don’t know.”
Turning away, she moved back to the chair, her knees so watery she
wasn’t certain she would be able to stand much longer.
“Unless….”

“Unless what?” Adam carried the files to the
copy machine, flicked a button, lifted the lid, all the while
keeping one eye on Kirsten.

“Unless he found out…about the birth control
pills. The one thing he wanted was an heir. A child. And…now that I
know about his illness, I guess I can understand why he was so
desperate about it. But I couldn’t let him win that round. I
wouldn’t.”

“I know,” Adam said slowly.

She blinked, thought back. When had she told
him any of this? “Another thing I talk about too much when I
drink?” she asked.

Grim faced, he nodded.

“I went out of town for the pills, kept them
hidden in the house. He…he was so determined. Especially in the
last few weeks…” She stopped speaking when she saw the way Adam
stilled, the way he clenched his hands into fists at his sides, so
tightly his knuckles went white.