Deception (Southern Comfort) (43 page)

Donnie’s anger mingled with regret and concern and she reached out to stroke his cheek.  “Dane wasn’t a part of this,” she told him, because Dane deserved no less than the truth.  Donnie had been his friend also, and she knew he felt betrayed.  Dane may not be able to forgive her for what she’d done to him, but at the least she could clear his name.  “The murder, the mafia, you getting shot, my abduction – all of that was Alan.  Dane was as shocked as I was to find himself fleeing the country.  And I don’t think he ever would have gone through with it if his dad hadn’t scared him senseless.  He… really cared for you, Donnie.  He never could have hurt you.”

Sam watched a sort of easement steady her brother’s expression and she knew she’d salved a hurt.  Whether or not they patched things up, at least no lies lay between them.  Sam fervently hoped that after the initial dust had settled, they’d find a way to salvage their friendship. Dane was a far better man than she’d ever given him credit for being.   

“His dad’s dead,” Donnie said flatly.  “I wish I could have killed him myself.”

“You and me both,” said a new voice, and Sam looked over toward the doorway. Josh stood with a travel cup from Starbucks.  The smile that lit his face when he walked into the room made her heart lift with gossamer wings of love.  “I leave for fifteen minutes to get a decent cup of coffee, and look who decides to wake up.”

He stepped into the room and immediately behind him Sam was surprised to see Karen Davis.  From her professional garb Sam assumed she’d already returned to work.  She looked pale against the bright print of her scrubs and there were faint smudges beneath her eyes, but overall she looked much better than the last time Sam had seen her.  “And if I’m not mistaken, that brother of hers disobeyed a direct order and climbed out of his wheelchair himself.”  The look of barely disguised affection which bathed her face as she admonished him had Sam glancing with revelation at her brother.

Of course, she thought, noticing the slight flush on her brother’s cheeks.  She’d been an idiot not to have seen it sooner. 

Karen helped Donnie into his chair, and Josh moved around her bed to perch on the other side.  “How are you feeling?” he inquired in an undertone, all trace of playfulness gone from his voice.

“Like I’ve been shot,” she deadpanned, not wanting him to worry, but her attempt at humor was sorely underappreciated.  Josh flashed her an ugly look before moving in more closely so that he could get a peek at the bandages, which he attempted by looking down the front of her gown.

“Do you mind?” she hissed, fighting the laugh that threatened to spill over. She shot an embarrassed glance toward her brother.

“Not in the least,” was his soft rejoinder, the faintest trace of amusement back in his tone. 

A pointed ahem from across the bed brought them both around.      

“We’ll be going now,” Karen said, hands resting on the wheelchair’s handles.  “Donnie has to get to his therapy session.”

“Oh joy.” He shot a rueful glance over his broad shoulder, still impressive despite his loss of weight.  “Do you think I could pick up some pants on the way so that my rear end isn’t flapping in the breeze?”

“We’ll ask.” Karen winked at Sam.  From the way she’d been looking at her brother, Sam thought that Karen might have enjoyed the flapping.

After she’d watched them wheel out of her room, Sam turned to Josh
.  He’d been keeping himself cool in an impressive outward display, but she knew he had to be seething.  “Are you okay?” She trailed one hand along his cheek.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted, turning his lips to press against her palm.  “I think a big part of me shut down from sensory overload a while ago, and the rest is just running on autopilot.  I’m… numb, maybe.  There’s anger, and joy, and fear, plain and simple, but it’s like I’m experiencing them through a sort of anesthetized haze.”

“I believe that’s normal.” Her feelings were fairly similar.  Any event as traumatic as the ones they’d both experienced took a while to truly sink in.

“You’re amazing.
” Josh drew her attention back from wayward thoughts.  “To have endured everything you’ve gone through and yet to be so concerned with everyone else.  There’s not another person,” he told her, lifting her hand for another caress from his lips, “who inspires me the way that you do.  You’re my muse. You always have been.”

“The drawing!” she exclaimed,
having been reminded by the talk of muses.  “Did you –”

“I have it,” he assured her with a smile.  “It’s hanging in our master bedroom.”

“So… we still have a master bedroom?”

“The fire didn’t reach that far.  There was a little bit of smoke damage – the smell’s still lingering and I’ll have to have my entire wardrobe dry-cleaned – but otherwise everything’s intact.”  Josh’s eyes went watery for a moment.  “When I saw that drawing and heard what Simms had to say –”

Sam touched a finger to his lips.  “I know.” .The thought of him living brokenhearted without her was what had given her courage through it all.  She’d had no choice but to make it back to him.

He gathered himself together, dipped his hand into his pocket.  It emerged with a small velvet box in the palm
.  Sam felt sunshine break out all over.  All the darkness suddenly banished.

“For me?” She reached to open it with
eager fingers, and Josh laughed at her expression of delight.  “It’s a butterfly!” The platinum wings seemed to flutter with the sparkle of inlaid diamonds.

“Y
OU
like it?”  It was so unlike Sam to get girly over anything that he was thrilled to be the one to make it happen.  “I started with a two-carat solitaire, but…”  That had been more about him proclaiming his ownership than anything to do with Sam’s tastes.  Not the foot on which he wanted to get started. “Then I saw this.” His voice went husky as he thought of all that Sam meant to him.  Past, present, and future.  “It reminded me of you.  Not just your tattoo, but…” He hesitated to gather his thoughts.  As artistic as he’d always been, his gift wasn’t with words. “You’re like this magnificent, delicate creature that fluttered into my life.  And yet you were strong enough to cocoon yourself through some of the worst that life has to offer.  It’s sort of a double reminder – how lucky I am to have… caught you, and how beautifully you’ve emerged.” 

Awkward now that the words were out, Josh cleared his throat and stared at the ring.  “I can get another if you don’t like it.”  

Sam looked appalled and snatched the box.  “It’s perfect,” she told him simply, sliding the butterfly onto her finger.  She held it out and waggled it around to watch it play under the fluorescent lights.  “So are you.”  She grasped his cheeks between her hands and kissed him full on the mouth. 

“As soon as you’re back on your feet again, I’m dragging you down the aisle.
Or to the courthouse.”  He’d already alerted his family to the fact that they’d better get their suitcases ready.

“You won’t have to drag me,” she assured him, “I’ll walk right down of my own volition.”

“You want a big to-do?” he asked, “Or something that can happen quickly?”

“Quickly,” she said,
and Josh realized they were in perfect accord. Given the eight years they’d already spent separated, it couldn’t happen quickly enough.

EPILOGUE

“SHE’S
amazing,” Josh gushed, besotted with love and a bit of whiskey as he stared across the crowded room at his wife of all of one week.  She was costumed as a bright blue butterfly for the Murphy’s Halloween party. She shifted into the light, the glitter on her cheeks dazzling him like magic dust that caused his breath to catch in his throat.

“If I ever get that sappy over a woman,” Rogan Murphy proclaimed, “I expect you to put me down.”

He’d addressed the comment to newlywed Clay, tanned from his recent honeymoon.  Then Rogan, who’d shown no great stretch of imagination by appearing outfitted as a pirate, eyeballed Clay’s cutesy jailbird costume, the counterpart to Tate’s warden.

“Never mind.” H
e sighed as he poured Clay a beer.  “Any man in leg shackles who manages to look that damn happy about it isn’t exactly up to the task.”

Clay laughed, turning to look at the lovely jailor conversing with the eye-catching insect. “I’m happy to see that Sam got over her wariness regarding Tate.”

Josh waved a dismissive hand, inadvertently catching his fingers in part of his netting. As he worked to extricate himself, Rogan made another noise of disgust.  “Couples costumes,” he muttered, sliding the tall pilsner to Clay.  “Egad.”

Ignoring the antagonistic pirate, Josh leveled a friendly look at Clay.  “With everything else that’s happened lately, a little social awkwardness was small potatoes.  But if any of you ever bring up that bachelor party
, I’ll be forced to kill you where you stand.”

Clay laughed and
Rogan snorted.  “Whipped.” Rogan shook his head.  “My man is an embarrassment to the species.”   

Just then the front door to the bar eased open and the three of them checked out the newcomer.  A lovely pirate wench,
auburn curls spilling fetchingly from beneath a black silk scarf, peered into the dim interior.

Rogan emitted a strangled noise.

As one, Josh and Clay turned to give him bland looks. 

“Your shackle, I presume?” 

Rogan shot Josh a dirty look.  “She said she couldn’t make it,” he muttered by way of excuse.  His tone was a mixture of chagrin and a note of terror running underneath.  Then the look on his face as he glanced at Kim proved his bluster for what it was.  All the ducking and running he’d been doing lately had merely turned the key in the lock.  “I’ll, uh, catch up with you guys later.”

“The man’s whipped,”
said a feminine voice, and Josh turned to smile at Kathleen.  She’d been late to arrive at this particular shindig, so it was the first that he’d seen her.

“Where’ve you been?” he asked, slipping an arm about her shoulder.

“My stupid brother – the non-whipped one – forgot part of my costume.  He was supposed to bring the stuff with him tonight but left it at the house.  I had to run all the way out to Dad’s.”

“What the hell are you supposed to be?” Clay asked, stepping back to look her over.

Kathleen pointed to the pillow perched atop her head and the sheet which draped her body.  “I’m a bed of roses,” she explained in drawn out syllables.  “Obviously.”

Josh was too close to get the full effect so he moved away to check it out.  Sure enough, aside from the linens, she was covered in pinned-on rosebuds.  He opened his mouth to make a snide remark but something about her stopped him cold.

“Where did you get these?” He yanked a rosebud from where it was anchored.

“Hey,” Kathleen smacked the flower out of his hand.  “Get your own costume buddy.”  She bent down to pick up the rose.

“Seriously,” Josh demanded, no trace of humor in the question.  “Where did you get those flowers?”

Kathleen stood with a questioning look on her face and Josh’s tone brought Clay to attention.  “From my mom’s rose garden,” she said slowly, obviously wondering what was up.  “Well, Declan’s garden, now.  He’s been tending it ever since Mom died.”

Josh sat his whiskey on the bar top.  “I’ll kill him,” he said succinctly, and went off to do just that.

“Josh, wait!” Kathleen called, but he was already scanning the crowd.  He spotted his prey lurking as Dracula in a dark corner, deftly sliding his hand around a victim’s neck.

Josh launched through the air like a rocket.

“Hey!” Declan yelled, just as Josh seized him by the shoulders.  But before he could send his fist through those fangs Clay grabbed Josh and hauled him back.

“Didn’t we go through this already?  I’ve got a weird sense of déjà vu.”

But Josh was too blindingly furious to pay heed to his friend’s bland comment.  “You son of a bitch,” he sputtered at Declan, fighting against Clay’s iron grip, “You’re the one who’s been stalking Sam!”  It was the last piece of the puzzle, and Josh finally saw how it fit.

Declan stiffened for a moment, his gaze darting about at their audience, then he rolled his eyes.  “Overdramatic as usual, Harding.  Sending your girlfriend a couple tokens of affection could hardly be considered stalking.”

“She’s my wife,” Josh corrected angrily.

“Now.  Not then.”  Declan’s eyes flashed annoyance.  “And how was I to know all that when I hired her to strip for Clay’s party?”

“Easy,” Clay murmured when Josh lunged with renewed vigor.

Declan backed up a step.  “I was just messing with you, Harding.  A little payback for that sucker punch.”  His eyes darted over Josh’s shoulder and landed behind him with a touch of chagrin.  “You’ll have to forgive me, Mrs. Harding.  I never meant to cause you alarm.”

Jerking about to see Sam behind him, Josh’s anger cooled considerably.  “Honey,” he greeted her placidly, as Clay released him from his grip.

“You’re forgiven,” she said pointedly to Declan.  The message her eyes telegraphed to Josh was
enough of this already
.

Feeling like a couple rowdies hauled into the principal’s office, Josh offered a begrudging truce to Declan.  When the other man accepted his outstretched hand he leaned close and whispered a promise.  “I ever catch you near her again and they’ll never find your body.”