Someday Soon (10 page)

Mercenary
. The word echoed in Linette’s ears like a giant gong, but instead of fading, the sound grew louder and louder, more and more deafening.

“Linette?”

It took an instant for her to realize that Nancy was speaking to her. “In other words, he’s a hired killer,” she said slowly.

“Yes. I’m sorry, so sorry. I feel like such a fool.”

Linette forced herself to give Nancy a reassuring smile. “You didn’t know.”

“But I should have questioned Rob more thoroughly before I suggested introducing you two. I don’t think Cain’s a bad person, don’t misunderstand me. It’s just that…well, you’ve already lost one husband, and you don’t need to get involved with a man in a high-risk occupation like his.”

“You’re right, I don’t.” Linette’s fingernails dug painfully into her palms. If there was one single thing she had learned during Michael’s illness, it was how very precious life is. She couldn’t bear the thought of anyone wasting a gift of such value.

“What upsets me most is the big stink I made with my parents. They asked me all these questions about Cain, looking for one small thing to discredit him. Mom was furious with me and Rob, and when I learned what he was, Linette, I can’t tell you how upset I’ve been. Thank God she never found out.”

“There’s nothing to worry about. No harm done.”

“You’re sure?” she asked with a heavy sigh. “I can’t tell you how guilty I’ve felt over all this.”

“Don’t,” Linette insisted. If she was angry with anyone, it was with Cain. He’d clearly misled her, clearly chosen to let her believe he was in the service. She knew why. Had she known the truth, she would never have agreed to travel to Montana with him. Would never have become involved with him.

“I hope this doesn’t mean you’re going to be gunshy,” Nancy continued, then smiled. “No pun intended. Cain’s just one man, and if you were attracted to him, then there are bound to be others, don’t you think?”

“Of course.” But Linette wasn’t interested in anyone else. In time she would be willing to try dating again, but not soon. As it was, she felt like a yo-yo on one of those around-the-world spins. Her emotions had been looped around almost full circle. A feeling of emptiness swamped her.

She knew what Cain had told her before he’d left was true: he wouldn’t be contacting her again. He couldn’t risk involving his heart any more than she could allow herself to care for a man who’d built his life around death and destruction.

“I’d better go,” Nancy said after a moment. “I hate being the bearer of bad news.”

“I don’t want you to feel guilty over this,” Linette said, handing Nancy her coat.

“I can’t help it. I’m my mother’s daughter. I cut my baby teeth on guilt. Little happens in this world that I can’t find a reason to accept some of the blame.”

Linette laughed, and the two women hugged. “Don’t look so worried,” she said, and unlocked her front door.

“But I am. You’re going to be all right, aren’t you?”

“Of course.”

Nancy hesitated, and Linette knew her sister-in-law wished there was something she could do or say to set matters right. Nancy, however, had already paid a hefty price. She’d stood her ground against her parents on Linette’s behalf. That hadn’t been easy and had helped pave the way for her confrontation with the Collinses later.

After Nancy had gone, Linette sat on the sofa, suddenly cold. She wrapped a hand-knit blanket around her shoulders. In the worst part of Michael’s illness she’d sat in exactly this position, with this same autumn-colored afghan tucked about her like a security blanket.

She’d needed it then. She needed it now.

The force of the explosion knocked Cain onto his belly. His breath gushed from his lungs as the wind was knocked out of him. He lay there in intense pain, too stunned to move.

What the bloody hell had happened? The only thing he could think was that the explosives had gone off too soon. It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

The explosion had been planned as a diversion. Unfortunately, the only ones it had distracted were the men of Deliverance Company. Not a single man was in position. The whole mission had literally blown up in their faces.

They weren’t ready. This was a hell of a way to announce their arrival. If the terrorists holding Louis St. Cyr had any brains, and they must have, they’d quickly figured out this was a rescue attempt gone awry.

Instinct took over, and Cain leaped to his feet and ran around the side of the building, dodging the rapid fire of a machine gun. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Jack and Murphy crash through the underbrush to join him. Jack literally hurled himself behind the building, cursing as he slammed onto his stomach. Murphy followed.

“It’s too soon,” Jack said as though Cain hadn’t figured that much out himself.

As far as Cain could see, they had two choices. Ignore the fact that all their careful arrangements had gone up in smoke and go in after the kid.

Or get out alive, while they could.

One thing was certain—if they turned tail now, the kid was a goner. For all Cain knew, the teenager might already be dead. There were no guarantees he’d survived one moment beyond having his photo taken. He’d been held hostage for nearly three weeks as it was. The odds of his surviving the first few minutes following the explosion were slim to none.

“We’re going in,” Cain decided.

His men followed without hesitation.

He was the first one through the door. The first one to fire his weapon, spitting death at a faceless enemy. The first one to see just how big a disaster they’d walked into.

One man fell and then another. Bullets whistled past Cain, hitting the wall directly behind him. He fell to the ground and rolled, firing as he twisted. If they were going to kill him, he sure as hell wasn’t going to make an easy target.

It had been almost a month now that Francine had been working with Tim, and in all that time she hadn’t dreaded a morning more than this one.

She wasn’t sure she could look Tim in the eye. Wasn’t sure she could pretend he hadn’t touched her, hadn’t kissed her, hadn’t told her he wanted to make love to her. At first she was tempted to call in sick and arrange for a substitute, but that was a coward’s way out. Sooner or later she was going to have to face her patient again.
The way she figured it, she’d prefer to get this over with as quickly as possible.

After some deliberation, Francine decided she was going to walk into his bedroom the way she always did. She would greet him the same way she did every morning and pray to high heaven he didn’t mention what had happened in the pool.

“Good luck with the beastmaster,” Greg told her when she let herself into the house. “He’s in one bear of a mood.”

Francine was afraid of that, but prepared. She walked down the hallway to his bedroom, feeling very much like Marie Antoinette facing the guillotine.

She knocked lightly, and after squaring her shoulders and gathering her composure, she let herself into the bedroom. “Good morning,” she said as if nothing had changed between them. It hadn’t, because she wouldn’t allow it.

Tim was sitting in his wheelchair, dressed and ready. He raised his head expectantly when she walked inside. He seemed surprised to see her.

“Morning,” he murmured. “I didn’t know if you’d be here.”

“Why not?” Which was a ridiculous question, and one she immediately regretted. “We have work to do,” she said, not giving him the opportunity to answer.

“I expect you want me to apologize,” he said in the same gruff-affectionate tone he often used with her. “If you do, then you’ve got a long wait.”

“The only thing I expect of you, Tim Mallory, is for you to walk again. It’s the reason I was hired, and by all that’s holy that’s what I intend to see happen.”

“I have a vested interest in walking myself.”

“Good,” she answered, relieved. “Then we’re on the same wavelength.”

“What about yesterday?” His gaze held hers.

Her cheeks felt hot, but she ignored the ready way in which her body betrayed her. “What about it?”

“I suppose you want to forget about it.”

“I…think that would be best.”

“Fine,” he said, but he didn’t sound pleased.

“Good.”

“When will I start walking again?” he demanded with thick impatience.

“We need to take this one step at a time, no pun intended. First we’ve got to get your leg strong enough to support your weight. For the last month I’ve been working at building up your muscle strength. You’re gaining weight and getting stronger every day, but we have a ways to go.”

“When can I stand?”

It was true that he’d gained weight, but he remained weak, and she hated to take any chances. Physically he could handle a setback, but emotionally…she wasn’t so sure. Thus far everything had been going along smoothly.

“You think you’re ready now?” she asked.

“I was ready last week.” A hint of a smile touched the edges of his mouth.

Francine couldn’t keep from smiling herself. “All right, big boy, let’s see what you can do.”

She started out with the rubdown, the way she did every morning, massaging his muscles, warming them up for the more strenuous work out that would follow.

He was sprawled across the top of his mattress as she kneaded the thick muscles of his injured leg. She worked hard, preoccupied with the task.

“You aren’t talking,” Tim muttered.

“Not talking?”

“You’re usually a regular chatty Cathy. In the beginning I would have sold my soul to shut you up, but I’ve grown accustomed to your prattle.”

It was true Francine generally made a point of chatting to put him at ease. But all at once she didn’t seem to have anything to say. She wasn’t entirely sure what she’d been telling him all these weeks.

“It’s your turn to entertain me,” she suggested.

“Me, talk? I’m not much good at that sort of thing.”

“I’m all out of stories.”

“Tell me about the time your brother locked you out of the bathroom and then jumped down the laundry chute so you couldn’t get ready for your date.”

“I was all of sixteen, and fighting mad.”

“And this was the night of your first real date,” he said, filling in the details for her. “You had to answer the front door with hot curlers dangling from your forehead, and it was your date, fifteen minutes early.”

“So you think that’s funny, do you?” She swatted him playfully across the butt.

“Ouch.”

“Listen, big boy, you don’t know what pain is until I’m finished with you.”

Tim chuckled, and to the best of her knowledge it was the first time Francine could remember hearing him laugh. It surprised her to realize how much she liked him. As he was being slowly freed of his disability, she
was seeing more and more of the man he’d been before the accident. The more she saw, the better she liked him.

A knock against the door was followed by Greg, letting himself into the bedroom. He was carrying the portable phone.

“It’s McClellan,” Tim’s attendant told her patient.

“Thank God.” Tim sighed with relief, and Greg handed him the receiver.

“Do you want me to leave?” Francine asked.

He shook his head.

Although Francine could hear only one side of the conversation, it was clear that Cain had been out on some kind of mission. At first Tim seemed worried, but he became more and more relieved as the conversation continued.

“He wants to talk to you,” Tim said when he’d finished. He handed Francine the phone.

“This is Francine Holden,” she said, although an introduction wasn’t necessary.

“How’s the patient?” Cain’s voice sounded as if it were coming from the bottom of a deep well. She wasn’t sure if it was from a poor connection or the distance.

“Cranky. Stubborn. Impatient. Better.”

“I like the last part best. It seems he thinks he’s ready to stand.”

“We’ll see. If matters progress the way they have, it’s possible for him to be walking within another month.”

Her prediction was met with stark silence. “I don’t believe it,” Cain said after a tense moment. “I didn’t dare believe it would happen.”

That had been Tim’s mistake as well. He didn’t dare
to believe it, either. “Wait until you see the changes in him.”

“I have to be in San Francisco next week,” Cain announced. “I’ll be by the house to see this amazing transformation myself. I didn’t think it was possible. Thank you, Francine.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” It was much too soon for that. They had a long way to go and almost all of it was uphill.

When she was finished, she handed the telephone back to Greg, who was waiting outside the door. Tim’s attendant left, and she returned to his bedside.

“They did it,” Tim said, sounding jubilant.

“Did it?”

“Rescued some poor kid who was being held as a political prisoner. Cain said everything that could go wrong did, but they managed to pull it off. The teenager’s back with his family, and Deliverance Company is taking an all-expenses-paid trip to the Bahamas, recuperating in the sunshine.”

“Was anyone hurt?”

“Only minor injuries.” Tim clenched his fist. “Damn, but I wish I’d been there. I’d give my eyeteeth to be in the thick of it again. They could have used me, too.”

“It appears to me,” Francine said stiffly, “that you’ve been in the thick of one too many missions as it is.”

“Hey, don’t go all soft on me. Fighting is what I do best. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m damn good at it.”

“I can tell,” she muttered sarcastically.

Tim was silent for a moment. “If I didn’t know better, I might think you actually cared.”

“What I care about is seeing you whole and healthy, but I’ll tell you right now, I’m not working this hard for
you to go off like some white knight to get yourself shot up again.”

Tim slapped his hands together. “You do care!”

“I don’t,” she said in what was a blatant lie. And Tim knew it.

“You know,” he said, sounding almost gleeful, “I just might grow on you. I wouldn’t be a bad lover, you know. Fact is, I’ve never had any complaints. We could have some good times, you and me. Some real good times. What do you say, Francine?” He waited for a response, and she answered him with a blistering look. Tim burst out laughing.