Before We Kiss (Fool's Gold #14)

In a twisted way, not taking his pain medication made him feel as if he was in control. Something his coaches would tell him was bullshit. But right now, it was all he had.

He shifted slightly on the hospital bed, then hissed out a breath when the fire ripped through his body. Moving was never a good idea. Not at this stage. Not until he’d healed a little more. Which meant Shelby was totally on her own.

Before he could rail at the unfairness of the situation, his hospital door opened and an old lady stepped in. She was of average height, with white hair and blue eyes. She wore a jacket over dark pants and pearls around her neck. Pearls? In a hospital in New Zealand?

“Hello, Mr. Gilmore,” the woman said. “I’m Marsha Tilson.”

“I don’t give a shit who you are, lady. I’m not in the mood to give autographs, so get out of my room.”

Instead of leaving, or even seeming upset, the old woman pulled the visitor’s chair closer and sat down.

“How are you feeling?”

He raised his good arm and motioned to the pulleys and casts, the drip lines and the beeping monitor. “How do you think?”

Her expression turned knowing. “You’re not taking your pain medication. I understand why. I hope you understand your logic is flawed.”

She was American. Probably mid-sixties. With her lack of accent, he would put her from the West Coast, maybe. Or Nevada or Colorado. The one thing he was sure of was that he’d never seen her before.

“Get out,” he said, turning away from her. “Just get the hell out of my room.”

“I will. I promise. But first I need five minutes of your time.”

He sighed. What the hell. It wasn’t as if he had anything else going on today. He closed his eyes and hoped he could fall asleep while she talked.

“I’m the mayor of Fool’s Gold. That’s a town in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada. Our town is in California, not too far from Sacramento. We’re at twenty-five hundred feet, so we get all four seasons, but none of them are especially brutal. There’s good skiing up the mountain. Not that you’ll be doing that for a while.”

He turned back to face her and opened his eyes. “I really appreciate your support.”

She lightly touched the fingers sticking out of his cast. “I’m sorry, Mr. Gilmore, but we both know the truth. You’ll never ski professionally again. While that’s very sad, you did win two gold medals at the Olympics a few months ago, and over the years have won nearly every major event in your sport. So if you had to go out, better to do so on top.”

“Thanks for the tip,” he said. “I feel much better now.”

“You don’t, but you will.” She drew in a breath. “I’d like to offer you a job. Not now, of course. You have some healing to do. But later. We’re going to be starting a search and rescue group in Fool’s Gold. I’d like you to run it. You’ll be outdoors much of the time, yet connected to a community. The best of both worlds, so to speak.”

He pushed the button to raise his bed and ignored the white-hot pain that shot through him when he moved.

“Get out,” he told her. “I don’t know you and I sure as hell don’t want to talk to you about a job.”

“Mr. Gilmore,” she began, then paused. “Kipling. Our town is a unique place. Friendly, warm and we take care of our own. We always have. Maybe it’s our history, maybe it’s just dumb luck. Regardless of the reason, you would be safe there. More important, Shelby would be safe there.”

Kipling stared at her. “What do you know about my sister?” he asked, his voice a growl.

“I know that she loves her mother and that she’s having to deal with a father who enjoys hitting helpless women. I know you’re not scared for her. Because being scared doesn’t come close to describing what you’re feeling. You are terrified, and while you’re in this hospital you can’t help her. I, however, can.”

Kipling closed his eyes. What was happening? Was it real? Could he trust this old broad and how did she know about the situation with Shelby?

“I know a couple of people,” Marsha Tilson continued. “Gentlemen who have served our country with honor and distinction. I have already spoken with them and they are willing to take care of Shelby’s problem.”

He stared at her. “How?”

“Shelby’s mother doesn’t have much time. My friends will explain to your father that he needs to make his wife’s last weeks pleasant. They will make sure that Shelby is safe, and when her mother finally passes, they will assist with the details of the estate. Then they will bring her to Fool’s Gold, where she’ll be given a safe place to stay while she decides what to do with the rest of her life.”

“And my father?”

The old lady gave him a spooky smile. “We won’t break the law, Mr. Gilmore. But it’s possible your father will get a taste of his own medicine.”