“Just…hold on to me.”
Her voice was so weak he could barely make out the words. He was lying on his stomach with both arms around her. He couldn’t believe after everything they’d gone through, it was going to end like this. That she was going to die in his arms because he was too damn weak to pull her out of the water. Talk about irony. They’d been so damn close….
A buzzing sounded in his ears. Jake shook his head, certain that unconsciousness was about to descend. At least they would die together….
He set his mouth close to her ear. “I love you,” he whispered, pressing his mouth to her neck. “I’ve always loved you.”
“Vanderpol! Holy frickin’ cow!”
The sound of Rick Monteith’s voice jerked him from semiconsciousness. Footsteps pounded on the ice behind him. He raised his head and looked around in time to see Rick charging toward him.
“About damn time,” Jake ground out.
“You can sue me later.”
Strong arms gripped his shoulders and dragged him back. “Can’t…leave her.”
But Rick was already pulling Leigh from the hole in the ice. Even as he laid her on the snow covered ground, he was working off his coat to cover her.
“I’ve got you,” he said. “You’re going to be all right.” He looked at Jake. “For God’s sake, Jake, you’re bleeding all over the place.”
“It’s not like I have a choice.”
Rick rose. “Stay with her. Chopper’s on the way. I’ve got chemical warmers in the snowmobile.”
Jake had already crawled over to where Leigh lay motionless in the snow. Her face was colorless. Her lips were the deep blue of a bruise.
“Leigh,” he said. “Come on, honey, wake up. Talk to me.”
Her eyes fluttered open. “You saved…my life.”
“Yeah, well, I had a little help.”
A smile whispered across her mouth. “Did I dream that you told me you love me?”
“You didn’t dream it.”
“I guess this would be a good time to confess that I love you, too.”
Her eyes tried to roll back, but he shook her. “Leigh, damn it, hang on. Please, honey. I need you. There’s a chopper on the way.”
“…always…loved you,” she whispered.
Rick returned and knelt beside Leigh. “You’re going to have to let go of her, partner. Let me get these warmers against her abdomen and then I’ll assess those bullet wounds.”
Too weak to argue, Jake rolled onto his back and looked up at the sky. Snow swirled crazily all around. He felt Leigh’s hand, cold and lifeless within his. Please don’t let her die, he thought.
Drowsiness tugged at him, dragging him to a place that was dark and warm and safe. He thought he saw a chopper hovering overhead, but he couldn’t hear the rotors and figured he must be hallucinating.
Then the darkness engulfed him. Warmth infused his body. He gripped Leigh’s hand tighter. I love you, he thought.
But it wasn’t enough to keep the darkness at bay.
Chapter Twenty-One
Jake opened one eye and for a moment wondered what he’d done to deserve ending up in heaven. He was surrounded by warmth and white and a pleasant lavender haze. A few feet away, Leigh smiled down at him, and he was suddenly very glad for all the Sundays he’d spent in church.
“C’mere.” He reached for her only to be halted by the dull throb in his shoulder. The pain was the first inkling that he hadn’t actually made it into heaven.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Hurts,” he croaked.
“The doctor said if you need something for the pain all you have to do is ask.”
As far as Jake was concerned his head was fuzzy enough. “Where am I?”
“St. Francis Hospital in Detroit.”
His other eye popped open. “How long?”
“Two days.” She took his hand then, and Jake almost forgot about the pain.
Her hand was warm and small and incredibly soft within his. Even drugged and hurting he was aware of the need rising inside him. He wanted to kiss her and never stop, but he didn’t think he was strong enough and settled for squeezing her hand. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
Leaning close, she pressed a kiss to his forehead. “So are you.”
His vision clearing, he looked around the room and spotted Rick Monteith. “What about Rasmussen?”
Monteith shook his head. Dead. Jake felt nothing but relief. He recalled the final minutes on the ice. Leigh in the water and fighting for her life. He remembered Rasmussen taking a shot at him. He thought he recalled seeing a chopper.
“What happened?” he asked.
Monteith and Leigh exchanged glances. “Rasmussen put a bullet in your shoulder,” Rick said. “Dislocated it. Nicked an artery. You lost a lot of blood. Passed out. By the time the chopper arrived, you barely had a pulse.”