Page 21 of I’ll Be There (Montana Fire #4)

He could find that life here, with Liza.

Micah slowed as they came flying into the city limits. “Almost there—”

“Cherries,” Conner said as lights flickered on from a cruiser hiding in a pullout just off the highway.

“Shoot,” Micah said. “Listen, the hospital isn’t far. I’ll get you there, then deal with this cop.” He shot a look in the rearview mirror.

“Registration is in the glove compartment,” Conner said as Micah turned off the highway. The hospital sat off on the right.

The cruiser flicked on a siren, just a burp, and Micah slowed, turning into the drive. “I’m going to drive up next to the ER. Hop out like you’re injured.”

“You were just speeding.”

“I don’t want them to think you’re some kind of criminal, running from the cops. That’s a good way to get in trouble.”

Micah pulled up next to the ER doors, and Conner grabbed the door latch. “Thanks.”

“I got this.”

Conner jumped out, slammed the door, and because the cruiser came up next to the truck, blocking Micah in, Conner grabbed his gut, bent over, and hobbled inside.

Feeling silly.

But it worked, and as the door swished closed behind him, he straightened up and headed for the admitting desk. “I’m looking for Liza—”

“Oh, more for the party.” The nurse at the desk smiled, her brown hair tucked behind her ears. In her mid-fifties, her name badge said Cindy. “Come this way.”

The voices with a hint of laughter drifted up from the otherwise dead-quiet ward, and somehow the worry strung around his chest eased.

See—she was fine. And frankly, here in the hospital, she was out of danger from P.T. Blankenship. Except, he still had Danny Boy’s phone in his pocket, still half charged, the ringer on vibrate.

Conner stopped in the open doorway.

The chatter in the room ceased.

Liza sat on the bed, an IV tube running into her arm, dressed in a hospital gown, her beautiful sable hair pulled back in a single braid, brown eyes widening as she stared at him. Ugly red welts rose on her arms and neck, evidence of whatever allergy had attacked her.

“Conner, what are you doing here?”

“Are you kidding me? You’re in the hospital and you’re asking me that question?”

Grace and Ivy stood at the far end of the bed, and Mona rose from her chair as Conner came in.

“I thought you’d text me back,” Grace said.

“I decided to visit my fiancée in the hospital instead.” He advanced on Liza and took her hand. “Babe, what happened?”

“I’m fine—I didn’t want you to see me like this.” She pressed her hand to her neck, where the red welts looked angry, inflamed. “They’ll probably be gone by tomorrow—I hope, but...” She made a face. “I ate pecans. I didn’t know I was allergic to pecans.”

“It might be an acquired allergy,” Grace said.

“Oh, that’s just perfect.” She turned to Conner. “I really can’t believe they admitted me. I’m fine.”

“She’s not fine,” Grace said. “Her blood pressure is high, and for a little while there, it looked like she might asphyxiate.”

Conner looked from Grace to Liza. “Seriously?”

Liza’s mouth made a thin line of frustration as she glared at Grace.

“Okay,” Conner said. “Thank you, ladies. I have it from here.”

Grace raised an eyebrow, but Ivy smiled. “I think the man needs a moment with his woman. Someone is about to freak out.”

Conner’s mouth opened, but Ivy held up her hand, gave him a look.

Okay, maybe.

“I’ll come by in the morning, Liza,” Mona said and gave her friend a kiss on the cheek. “I think you’re in safe hands now.”

Liza caught her hand, squeezed.

Then they were alone.

Conner sank down on the chair Mona had vacated.

“Grace had to text me. Not you. Grace .”

“Conner—it’s just...the hospital. And we have so many hospital memories...I didn’t want you to panic.”

“Oh, I panicked. Micah is right now getting a ticket for breaking land speed records.”

He got up, sat on the bed, touched her cheek. She had amazing eyes, the kind that could still the chaos inside, bring him home. “You don’t have to protect me, Liza. That’s my job, okay?”

She leaned her face into his hand. “No, that’s our job. I just didn’t want to get in the way of your...whatever you were doing with Micah. But yeah, I should have called you. I’m sorry.”

He leaned down, kissed her, his desire for her building so quickly—probably the aftermath of the swirl of panic and frustration—that he leaned away, took a breath, his heart thundering.

“Are you okay?”

He swallowed, nodded. Managed to find his voice. “I just can’t wait to marry you.”

She gave him a sad smile. “I’m so sorry, but this wedding is a disaster.”

“What?”

“And now I wrecked your bachelor party.”

“It wasn’t...oh shoot.” And then all of it simply rose inside him, the need to spill it out—finding Blue and nearly getting shot, the call to Blankenship, and the very real possibility that by this time tomorrow he’d have his brother’s killer.

“Liza, I gotta tell you something.” He blew out a breath. “I went to Fort William today to meet a woman.”

Her eyes widened. “What—”

“No, it’s not—”

“Is he in there?”

The voice, loud and abrasive against the quiet of the corridor, made Conner turn. He hit his feet when he saw a uniform enter the room. The officer, wide-shouldered enough to mean business, wore a deputy’s badge. “Conner Young?”

Micah came in behind him. “It’s not what you think.”

“I think this man is wanted in connection to a possible homicide.”

Conner froze. He glanced at Micah, back to the cop. And in that split second, his options both birthed and decayed before his eyes.

Run—let Micah back him up, and wait for Blankenship to show up, then turn himself in.

Surrender, maybe talk his way out of trouble. After all, how much proof could they have?

And then there was option three.

Liza. “Kyle, what are you doing? This is my fiancé. I promise you, he didn’t kill anyone.”

Well...

“Actually, Liza, the Canadian authorities have been trying to track him down,” Deputy Kyle said. “Someone was shot today at Fort William, and your fiancé was seen fleeing the scene.”

“I wasn’t fleeing—I was chasing down the shooter!”

“What—” Liza said as Kyle continued the accusations.

“He then accosted a man in the parking lot. A man who was later found fatally killed in a car wreck.”

Conner swallowed. Yeah, that might have been their fault.

“And a truck with US plates belonging to one Conner Young was identified leaving the scene at a high-speed chase.”

“We were following him—like I said, he was the shooter.” Although Conner put a little less oomph into his explanation.

“The shooter,” Liza repeated on a wisp of breath.

He met her eyes, the crazy what’s-going-on tilt of her head.

“Are you okay?” she whispered.

He nodded, no words.

“Unfinished business?” Liza said softly.

“I can explain.”

“Start with me,” Kyle said.

Conner slipped his hand into his pocket and palmed the phone. “Fine. But I come with you peacefully, no cuffs. No reason to make this into something.”

Kyle considered him, glanced at Liza, back to Conner. “Don’t make me regret this.”

Conner leaned down and kissed Liza on the forehead. “I really can explain.”

She met his eyes and offered a sad smile. “I know.”

He started to follow Kyle out the door, but Liza stopped them. “Kyle, Conner has to be at the church tomorrow at 4:00 p.m. For our wedding rehearsal.” She raised an eyebrow. “And you do too.”

Kyle’s mouth tightened around the edges. “I’ll be there.”

Oh, what a small, very, very small town she lived in. “Me too,” Conner said as he slipped Danny’s phone into Micah’s waiting hand.

Then he followed Kyle out into the parking lot and got into the cruiser.

Kyle slid into the front seat. Met Conner’s gaze in the mirror. “For Liza’s sake, I’m listening.”

Just what she needed to sleep. The image of Conner shooting someone—no, Kyle didn’t say he’d actually shot him, but what did Conner say about going to Canada to meet a woman?

Liza had kept Micah there by the sheer force of her gaze, daring him to leave her in the hospital room after her fiancé was carted off—thankfully, not in cuffs—by the local law.

Aka, handsome Kyle Hueston, who’d married sweet Emma, and played in the local band, the Blue Monkeys.

Her wedding band, to be precise.

For a wedding that was looking like it might not happen.

So, as Kyle took the groom away, Jim Micah had stood by her bed, holding a cell phone in his grip, tapping it as if itching to move, but planted there like the good friend-slash-soldier he was.

“So how much of that—Conner involved in a shooting and possible vehicular homicide—is true?”

Micah sighed. “All of it?”

She just stared at him.

“Not quite as black-and-white as your cop friend made it out to sound. It’s a long story, and I think Conner’s the one to tell it—”

“Who’s the woman he went to see?” She didn’t know why that bothered her so much—Conner wasn’t a cheater, had barely dated before she met him, and frankly, the way he’d kissed her only seconds before...no, it wasn’t another woman. Just a woman.

“Someone who knew his brother.”

“Justin.”

“Apparently Harmony Blue was his girlfriend. She just...well, when you texted everyone about the wedding, she had his brother’s old phone. She called him...wanted to meet.”

“Oh, that’s horrible. I had no idea—but wait—what does that have to do with a shooting ?”

“Blue was the one who was shot, while they were meeting. We chased down the shooter, but Conner thinks there’s a mastermind who sent him.”

She stilled. “And now that mastermind is after him?”

“We don’t know.” But something about the way Micah looked away from her toward the dark pane of night had her instincts firing.

Micah and Conner had a loyalty that went beyond camaraderie.

They would have died for each other, once upon a time.

She hadn’t a prayer of wedging herself between them. Not yet, at least.

“I don’t know a lot about Conner’s past, when you two served together,” she said quietly. “But Conner has a very high loyalty gene. And my guess is that you do too.”

Micah didn’t blink. Swallowed.