Lone Defender (Love Inspired Suspense) Page 18

  Skylar’s.

  “The surgeon is getting ready to close her up. We’ll know more soon.”

  “I’m sorry, Jonas. You can’t know how sorry I am.” Mitchell dropped onto a chair, rubbed the bridge of his nose.

  “Yeah. I think I can. The bullet that hit Skylar was meant for me.”

  Just like before.

  Only this time it was meant to kill him, not destroy him, and this time there’d been no shock as blood bubbled up. He’d seen the bullet coming just as he’d felt Skylar slam into his chest.

  Felt her fall.

  Blood seeping.

  He paced across the room, shoving the image aside.

  Skylar was alive. Had been conscious but fading when they’d lifted her onto the ambulance.

  Fighting hard.

  Just like she always did.

  And he was praying hard, like he hadn’t in a long time.

  He had to believe God’s answer would mean Skylar’s life.

  Had to.

  “You okay?” Mitchell handed him a cup of coffee.

  “Are you?”

  “Smithson was my boss. I’m a police officer. It doesn’t make sense that I didn’t know what he was capable of. If I’d been on the ball, I would have closed him down years ago. Booked him for tampering with evidence or withholding it or whatever would get him thrown in jail for the longest amount of time. I wasn’t, and two people are dead. An innocent woman is…” He shook his head, sipped coffee.

  “She’s going to be okay.”

  “So is he. The miserable excuse for a—”

  “Throwing names around won’t do anyone any good. Better to throw the book at him.”

  “Believe me, we’re going after him with everything we have. The doctor is dressing the bullet wound, and then we’ll drag him out of here in cuffs. We’ve already got him for attempted murder. We’ll see what else we can find.”

  “Any hope for his son getting justice?”

  “He got it. Gary Smithson is facing a far more permanent justice than I could enforce right now.”

  “Don’t get bitter, Mitchell. It won’t serve the community or you.”

  “You’re right. Sorry. This is eating at me. An officer of the law serves the people. Not himself.”

  “Smithson had it backward.”

  “And upside down. Sideways.” He ran a hand over his jaw, shook his head. “Lots of dark stuff in this town, Sampson. It makes a guy wonder. We brought the Clovis brothers in an hour ago. They’re trying to pin Redmond’s murder on Gary Smithson.”

  “It’s easy to blame something on a guy who’s dead.”

  “Apparently so, because they’re also claiming Gary murdered Josiah Stanley.”

  “You think it’s true?”

  “I don’t know, but they’re accessories one way or another. Whatever else we find, they’ll be going to prison for a long time.”

  “Good.” But Jonas wasn’t interested in who’d be in jail on what charges. He wasn’t interested in how many bad guys Cave Creek Sheriff’s Department would throw the book at.

  All he was interested in was seeing the waiting room door open and the surgeon walk in.

  Please, God, let Skylar be okay.

  “Listen, maybe this isn’t the time or the place, but we have a slot to fill on the force. We need a guy like you to fill it.”

  “You’re offering me the job?” Surprised, he faced Mitchell.

  “I can’t think of anyone else I’d want to offer it to. You have a reputation in your field that I think will carry over well into police work.”

  “I appreciate the offer, but I’m going to have to pass.” He had another offer to accept. The same one that had been extended to him every year since he’d left the Shadow Wolves.

  He was going back to the job he loved.

  Whatever happened today.

  But, please, let it be different than before.

  “If you change your mind, let me know.”

  “I won’t change my mind, but thanks.”

  “I’m going to head back to the station. We’ve got the state police coming in to start the internal investigation. My life is about to get really messy. You have my card, right? Call if—”

  The door opened, and Jonas whirled around.

  “Jonas!” His father raced toward him, Rayne and Debby hot on his heels.

  “How is she?”

  “Still in surgery.”

  “What are the doctors saying?” Rayne asked.

  “Broken clavicle. Some internal bleeding. Punctured lung.”

  “We’ve been praying all the way here. For her and for you. You’re both going to be okay. I know you will be.” Debby’s arms wrapped around him, and she hugged him tightly.

  “Don’t smother him, Mom. He’s been through a lot. He needs some space.”

  “Mr. Sampson?” A young woman walked toward them.

  Surgical scrubs.

  Careful meeting of the eye.

  Sadness? Regret?

  Please.

  “I’m Jonas Sampson.” His heart thundered in his chest.

  “I’m Dr. Radcliff, the surgeon in charge of Skylar Grady’s case. You’re listed as next of kin.”

  “That’s right.” His family closed ranks around him, Debby’s arm around his waist. Rayne crossing hers at the small of his back. His father’s hand pressed to his shoulder.

  His family.

  And he wanted so desperately for Skylar to be part of it.

  “I just finished closing her wound. There wasn’t as much damage as we first thought. The lung is contused, but not punctured. We stopped one large bleeder, used a plate and screws to rebuild the shattered clavicle. She has a hairline fracture in her left fibula, but that should heal without intervention. She’ll be sore for a while, but, barring any unforeseen complications, she should be fine.”

  Thank You, Lord.

  “When can I see her?”

  “I planned to hold off on visits until tomorrow, but…she’s awake and asking for you. Is actually quite insistent that she see you. I don’t want her agitated, and I don’t want to give her a sedative. Go on up, but don’t wear her out. The more rest she gets, the more quickly she’ll heal. Room twenty. Second floor. I’m afraid I can only allow one visitor for tonight.” She offered an apologetic smile to his family, a quick goodbye to all of them and walked away.

  Jonas offered his own quick goodbye to his parents and Rayne, then jogged to the stairwell, taking the stairs two at a time.

  He knocked on the half-open door, walked in.

  Saw her covered to her chin in blankets and bandages. Swollen lip. Swollen cheek. Pale, bruised skin.

  “Sky?” He touched her temple, the only place on her that didn’t seem bruised or bandaged or hurting.

  “Go away.” But she reached blindly for his hand, held tightly.

  “Is that any way to talk to the man who pulled you from a burning car?”

  “It is when he wakes me up.” She offered a wan smile, opened her eyes.

  “Were you really sleeping?”

  “Pretending to be so that the nurses would stop coming in to take my temperature.”

  “How many times have they been in?”

  “Once, but I get irritable when I’ve been shot.”

  “Only you would have reason to know something like that, Grady.” He chuckled, the sound hot and raw with everything he felt.

  Relief.

  Concern.

  Love.

  “Yeah, well, I’d prefer not to test the knowledge again.”

  “I’d prefer you not, either. My life is way too boring without you in it.” He pulled over a chair and sat, his legs shaky from relief. Weak from it.

  “I was thinking something when I was lying on the ground with that bullet in me,” she said, her voice raspy and frail. “I was thinking that maybe what I’d done was selfish. Just like you said when I untied the rope on the mesa. I was thinking that if I died, you’d be right back where you were before we met.
I didn’t want to die before I made sure that you were going to be okay.” Tears slipped down her cheeks, each one shattering a piece of Jonas’s heart.

  “Only you would worry about the living when you thought you were dying.” He kissed her bruised knuckles, her swollen fingers. “And, for the record, no matter what happened, I wouldn’t have been the same man you met in the desert. You changed me, Skylar. Made me realize I was clinging to the past more than I was moving toward the future.”

  “I’m glad.” Her eyes drifted closed, her grip easing. “And, for the record, you’ve changed me, too.”

  Her hand went limp, her breathing heavy.

  Giving in finally.

  Bruised, battered, alive.

  He brushed hair from her forehead, pressed his lips close to her ear, whispered. “Here’s another thing for the records, if you ever jump in front a bullet meant for me again, I’ll bring you out in the desert and leave you exactly where I found you.”

  To his surprise, she laughed, the sound ending on a soft groan. “It isn’t nice to make a woman with a busted collarbone laugh.”

  “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

  “It’s hard to sleep when every bone in my body hurts.”

  “I can call the nurse.” He reached for the button, but she touched his hand.

  “I have a better idea.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Tell me about you.”

  “You already know about me.”

  “Not the stuff we’ve already talked about. Tell me about climbing mesas and exploring the desert. Tell me what it’s like to feel like you belong where most people wouldn’t dare go.”

  “Sky—”

  “Tell me, because some day I want to go back with you. I want to walk the desert and see it through your eyes instead of the eyes of fear. I want to climb the mesa and camp in the cave, look out at the stars. Just be. With you. And God. The whole world…” Her voice faded.

  Asleep?

  Awake?

  “Tell me. Give me something to dream about,” she whispered, and he couldn’t resist her.

  He lifted her hand. Gently. Gently. Stroked her knuckles.

  Spoke the poetry of the desert into her ear. Spoke it as he had never spoken it to another person. Sharing his heart in a way he’d never imagined he could, the words flowing with his love for Skylar.

  Just as they should.

  Just as he wanted them to.

  God’s plan, God’s will, playing out through grief and joy and everything in between, bringing Jonas to exactly the place he was always meant to be.

  EPILOGUE

  “You didn’t tell me it was going to be this hot in May.” Skylar took a long swallow of lukewarm water and eyed her husband as he rolled up a sleeping bag and hooked it to his backpack. His long-sleeved shirt was unbuttoned, his chest chiseled and hard, his abdomen smooth.

  He looked good.

  No.

  He looked great.

  Too bad it was their last morning in the desert.

  She was really enjoying the scenery.

  She smiled, fingering the arrowhead at her neck.

  A reminder of another time.

  Another trip to the desert.

  A reminder of how far she and Jonas had come together.

  How far they still had left go.

  A lifetime, stretching out in front of them. All those dreams she’d given up on, finally being fulfilled.

  “I would have, but I didn’t want to spoil the surprise.”

  “If that’s your idea of a surprise, I think I’ll pass next time.”

  “Really?” He nuzzled her neck.

  “No.”

  “That’s what I thought. I love you, Skylar. Even if you do wilt in the heat.”

  “Plants wilt. I’m frying.”

  He chuckled.

  “The sun is barely up. Look.” He turned her, his chest pressed to her back, his breath ruffling her hair as he pointed to the horizon.

  Gold sun.

  Deep pink clouds.

  Blue, blue sky.

  “It’s just like you said it would be, Jonas. Breathtaking.”

  “More so when I have you to share it with.”

  “I almost wish we didn’t have to go back.” She twisted in his arms, the secret she’d been carrying for a week, begging to be told.

  Would he be happy?

  Sad?

  Both?

  “We don’t. The Clovis brothers have been convicted of first degree murder. Smithson’s trial won’t start for another two weeks. We can stay here until it starts. Just show up when it’s time to testify.”

  “You’re forgetting a few very important things.”

  “Am I?”

  “We’re expected in New Mexico in two weeks so you can start your new job. We have a house to pack up. I have two very pressing cases that I need to tie up before then. Not to mention our anniversary.”

  “What anniversary?”

  “Rat.” She slapped his chest, and he grinned.

  “One entire year married to you. I don’t think I need a reminder of that. As a matter of fact, since we’re going to be busy packing to move on our official anniversary, I brought your gift with me.” He knelt by his pack, pulled out a small box.

  “What is it?”

  “Open it and see.”

  She lifted the lid, her eyes welling when she saw the arrowhead necklace.

  “I know you have the one my grandfather made, but I wanted to give you something from my own hands.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “You’re beautiful.” He lifted the necklace from the box, slipped it around her neck.

  She held the arrowhead in her palm, squinted at the tiny letters engraved in it. “You wrote something on it?”

  “It is our anniversary. It had to be special.”

  She read the words, her eyes welling again. For the record, I love you always.

  “You’re not crying, are you?”

  “No.”

  “Really?” He traced one tear down her cheek.

  “Okay. I’m crying a little. I brought your gift, too, Jonas.”

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s here.” She took his hand, pressed his palm to her still-flat abdomen, saw the wonder fill his eyes.

  “Are you happy?” she whispered, and he pressed his forehead to hers, looked into her eyes.

  “How could I not be?”

  “The memories—”

  “Will always be there. The past will always be there. But this is now. This is you. Our baby. Our future.” He kissed her deeply, tenderly, endlessly.

  And she wanted to stay right where she was. Forever.

  Wind howled. Chopper blades churned.

  Reality intruded, and Jonas broke away, breathing deeply, his eyes blazing with love and passion. “I guess that’s our cue to get out of here.”

  “We could ignore it.” She kissed him again, and he smiled.

  “We could, but we have a house to set up in New Mexico. A nursery to set up, so I think it’s time we got on that chopper and got on with our future.” He patted her belly, and her heart swelled with love for him.

  For the child they’d created.

  For all that God had done.

  All that He had yet to do.

  Swelled because it was so filled up, it could do nothing else.

  “You know what, Jonas Sampson? I think you’re right,” she said.

  And Jonas swept her into his arms and carried her toward the chopper and all the beauty and trials and joy God had in store for them.

  Dear Reader,

  Tragedy often brings us to a place of choices. Will we hold tight to our faith or will we doubt what we believe? Jonas Sampson has stood in that place. After the murder of his wife and unborn son, he questions his purpose and struggles to hold his faith. When he’s asked to help find missing private investigator Skylar Grady, he agrees. But getting Skylar back to safety is more complicated than he expects. As he and S
kylar work to uncover a killer’s plan, Jonas must search his heart and learn that no matter how far we roam, God is only a prayer away.

  I hope you enjoyed reading Lone Defender as much as I enjoyed writing it! I love to hear from readers. If you have time, drop me a line at shirlee@shirleemccoy.com.

  Wherever you go, whatever you do, may you feel the fullness of God’s ever-present love.

  Blessings,

  Questions for Discussion

  Skylar Grady is a survivor. What characteristics do you think make a person a survivor?

  How has Skylar’s past shaped her personality and character?

  Jonas has suffered a horrible tragedy. What is his response to it?

  How strong is his faith before the tragedy?

  Does that change after the murder of his wife and son?

  Is it hard to keep believing in the goodness of God’s plan when your life seems to be falling apart?

  What promises has God made regarding difficulties in life?

  Are there Bible verses you find comfort in during troubling times? What are they?

  Jonas’s guilt leads him to give up his work as a border patrol agent. Do you think that was the right decision?

  Have you ever made a decision based on emotion and regretted it?

  What is it that draws Jonas and Skylar together? Would you characterize them as similar or different in personality?

  Skylar has a difficult time trusting others, but she does trust Jonas. Why?

  Jonas knows that he must move on with his life, but doing so isn’t easy. What is it that leads him to finally move forward?

  Is there something in your past that keeps you from moving forward into God’s plan for your life?

  What Biblical principles guide us in dealing with past trauma and heartache?

  ISBN: 978-1-4592-1285-5

  LONE DEFENDER

  Copyright © 2011 by Shirlee McCoy

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Love Inspired Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.