“The hell you are. Stay here while I run upstairs. Sheriff, if he even tries something stupid, cuff him.”
Before either man could respond, Kathleen took off like a shot, escaping the confines of the storage room by leaping over the destruction with the grace of a deer. Jack’s respect for Corey McFlannigan rose a notch when the sheriff didn’t stare at her bare legs and kept his knowing smirk well-hidden.
“Do you know this guy?” the sheriff asked.
Jack stepped closer and peered down into the guy’s face. “Looks vaguely familiar. Should I?”
“This here is Jimmy Foster, one of Danny Finnegan’s good for nothing sons-in-law. Word must have made it out to whatever rock he crawled under that the old man sold the place. I’m guessing Jimmy wasn’t too happy about that.”
“I thought Danny’s daughters moved away years ago.”
McFlannigan shrugged. “They did, but Sheila moved back to Pennsylvania not too long ago. Said she missed the seasons. But most folks think it was Jimmy’s doing, saying he was hoping to get in the old man’s graces before he died so he could get the Pub.”
Danny’s unwillingness to keep the Pub in his family made a lot more sense.
Kathleen reappeared, looking somewhat flushed but otherwise none the worse for wear. Dressed in jeans, snow boots, and a thick cable knit sweater, she waved a set of keys at him. “Come on, I’ve already got my car warming up.”
“We are not taking that death trap,” Jack informed her firmly.
“You did not just insult my car.”
“We’ll take the Galaxie. It’s heavier, and has the chains.”
“Fine,” she acquiesced, reluctantly. “But I’m still driving.”
––––––––
The drive to the hospital was no less harrowing than his trip to and from Birch Falls, but not because of the weather conditions. The heavy snow had tapered off to flurries, and the road crews had done a commendable job getting the main streets plowed and cindered. Jack was forced to reconsider his concession of allowing Kathleen to drive when she made the twenty minute trip in less than ten.
She slid right up to the Emergency entrance and all but bullied him inside, informing anyone within earshot that her husband was shot and demanding immediate attention.
They were shown to a tiny curtained off area right away, probably to keep Kathleen away from the general population. With some quick thinking and a lot of stroking, kissing, and reassurance, Jack managed to prevent her from stalking the halls and accosting anyone who looked like a doctor. The ER was short-staffed due to the weather, and a serious accident involving a salt truck and Gremlin took a higher priority.
It took half the night, but they finally made it back to the pub. Jack’s shoulder was bandaged, his arm in a sling to keep him from moving it too much, and Kathleen was hovering over him like a mother hen. There were definitely worse things than being pampered, he decided as she brought him a glass of water and fluffed up his pillow. But they had more important things to discuss.
“Enough,” he said, firmly but gently, as he wrapped his large hand around her wrist. “Cease your fussing.”
“Just let me get another blanket,” she protested. She tried to pull away, but he would not allow it. Instead, he tugged her onto the bed with him. She was close, but not close enough. He needed the physical contact. His logical mind knew that she had not been physically harmed, but the illogical part kept generating images of what might have happened.
“You came back,” he said, tucking a wayward strand of black behind her ear.
“Of course I came back,” she snapped, but there was little bite to her tone. “You’re my husband. Where you are is where I belong.”
Her words warmed his heart. “I’ve been thinking. If you really hate this place, we’ll put it back on the market. We can start looking for a new place tomorrow.”
She inhaled sharply. “You’d do that?”
“I’d do anything for you, Kathleen. Tonight made me realize that there’s nothing more important than making you happy. Except maybe keeping you safe.”
Using his uninjured arm, he hefted her up until she straddled him. Beneath the layer of bedding and pajama bottoms, his cock stirred under her warmth and weight. She pretended not to notice. She’d held up well all night, but he could see the tension in her shoulders. She hadn’t left his side, but she had yet to look him in the eye.
“Kathleen. Look at me.”
She did. Her big, beautiful eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, filling with moisture. Her pretty, rose colored lips parted, the fuller bottom one wobbling slightly. He couldn’t bear to see her like that; it made his heart ache far more than his shoulder.
“I’m so sorry, Jack.”