“My suitcase is in there, and my purse, but they’re probably covered with blood. Everything is covered with blood.” Cara covered her face. “Oh, God. Nick lost everything.”
Tony rubbed her back. “Hey, we’re the same size. He won’t have to go naked.”
Cara looked up at Tony. “If he gets through this, I don’t want him to see the boat like that.”
“He won’t.”
“Buy new cushions and carpet and whatever, Tony. Rip it all out and start over if you have to. Fix it up so Nick can live on it until he rebuilds his house.”
“Okay, sure.”
Cara stood in the window and stared out. The longer Nick’s surgery took, the more worried she grew. What if they couldn’t fix all the damage?
No, don’t think that way. He’ll make it. Nick has to live.
Aunt Sophia’s rosary beads clicked away, an irritating, yet comforting sound. If love and prayers would save Nick’s life, he was home free.
Gerry stood beside Cara, offering comfort without words. To stay positive, she looked ahead, to when Nick would take over Max and Company. “Gerry, would you please open a credit card account for Max and Company? Have cards made for Tony and Angelo and Al and Gina. For me and Nick, too. He’s going to get through this.”
“Yes, he will. Nick is a strong man.” Gerry stood quietly beside Cara for a minute before changing the subject. “Cara, I hate to bring up something else right now, but you should know. I spoke with Mr. Pettibone this morning. Sally saw the sanitarium on St. Rupert’s. It’s a dump. Rats, no air-conditioning, the beach is strewn with litter and filth, and the private room they had reserved for you is about six by six with one tiny barred window. It’s like an oven. The room is big enough for the bed and a nightstand, but that’s it. The library is six old paperbacks with pages missing. Some woman screams constantly, and one man who works there put his hands on Sally’s breasts. They’re on their way back now, but Sally hasn’t stopped crying since she got there.”
Cara wasn’t surprised. She doubted Lance had ever seen the sanitarium on St. Rupert’s. He didn’t care how bad the conditions were in that place. He just wanted to lock her up where no one would ever find her. “Poor Sally. Lance had her convinced I was sick and that was the best place for me. ‘Like a permanent vacation,’ he told her.”
“Your security guard says she’s furious that Lance would even consider putting someone in a place like that. She said he lied about everything.”
“Welcome to the real world,” said Tony.
Cara glanced at Tony. Whether Nick lived or died, she wanted to take care of his family. She turned to Gerry. “Gerry, would you see if the estate attorney has a copy of my will in his files? It’s time for an update.”
Al appeared with a bandage to match Angelo’s, and they waited together for news.
<>
Two hours later, a doctor wearing an outfit like Cara’s came into the waiting room. “Maxine Donatelli?”
Cara jumped to her feet. “Is Nick... is he...?”
“He’s doing well. The bullet nicked his heart. We repaired the damage and he tolerated the surgery quite well. He lost a lot of blood, but his vital signs are strong.” The doctor smiled. “He has an excellent chance of making a full recovery.”
Cara’s eyes filled with tears. “Thank you.”
“See, I told you,” said Tony. “Nicky’s tough.”
“Mrs. Donatelli, you can see him when he wakes up. I expect he’ll be glad to know you’re all here, but I don’t want all of you going in to see him the first time. Just his wife.”
The doctor walked away and Tony’s eyes bugged out.
“Wife?”
“I wasn’t thinking,” said Cara. “Aunt Sophia should be the one to go see him. All of you should see him first. You’re his family.”
Aunt Sophia patted Cara’s hand. “It’s you he’ll want to see, Cara. We’ll go next time.”
<>
Cara stood by Nick’s bed in the recovery room, staring at all the wires and tubes snaking out from under the sheet. He looked pale and still, but he was alive and breathing. Lifting his limp hand, she held it to her face.
“You can talk to him,” the nurse said. “He’s starting to come out of it now.”
“Nick, I’m here. Please open your eyes.”
She brushed the hair off his forehead and kissed it. “I’m here, Nick. Maxine is here.”
His eyes fluttered open. “I dreamed an angel begged me not to die.”
Cara didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. In the boat, she’d said those words over and over until it became a chant. A prayer.
Please don’t die.
Smiling through her tears, Cara said, “That was no angel, that was your wife, Maxine Donatelli.”
“You’re not a wuss after all.” His eyes drifted closed.
“I love you,” she whispered. She didn’t know if he heard her or not, but it didn’t matter. He knew how she felt. She loved him. And he loved her.
The nurse stood beside her. “You can come again later. I’ll keep a close eye on him.”
Cara rushed back to the waiting room to speak with Nick’s family and found the room swarming with reporters. Flashbulbs went off and microphones were shoved under her nose. Aunt Sophia tried to shoo them out, but it didn’t work, and Gerry was talking on the phone. Cara knew what had to be done. “If you’ll all wait in the lobby, I’ll be down in ten minutes with a statement.”
They shouted questions at her, but Cara shook her head. “Ten minutes. In the lobby.”
Gerry took Cara’s arm and steered her around the corner, into another room. She leaned on the back of the door and closed her eyes. “Help me write something, Gerry.”
“How is Nick?”
“He woke up and spoke to me. He looks pale and weak, but he knew I was pretending to be his wife.”
“I spoke with hospital security,” said Gerry. “They’ll keep the reporters downstairs and send the surgeon down, if they can find him. He’s around here somewhere.”
She rubbed her forehead. “I don’t even remember the doctor’s name.”
“Johnson.”
They walked back to the other room to find the reporters gone. Cara did her best to ease Aunt Sophia’s mind about Nick before she sat down with Gerry to write a statement for the press. “What do they know, Gerry?”
“They know who you are and who you’re pretending to be. They know you accused Lance of shooting at the boat, and they know about the fire at Nick’s house. It’s national news.”
It was worse than she thought. If not for her money, if not for her celebrity, this wouldn’t have happened. She was responsible, and she’d have to see to it that nothing else happened to Nick or his family. “We need to talk in private.”
Cara sat in the corner with Gerry and he made notes on what she wanted him to do. She wanted security guards for Nick here in the hospital and more at Aunt Sophia’s house, to protect his family. When Nick came out of the recovery room, she wanted him taken to a private suite, where his family could wait without people staring at them. “Private nurses, too, Gerry, around the clock. I don’t care what it costs, I want the best care for Nick.”
“Are you staying here at the hospital?”
“I can’t leave him now.” She was going to stay on the boat, but she couldn’t do that now. Reporters were definitely a problem, but not the main one. The inside of the boat was covered with Nick’s blood. Would she ever see that boat again without seeing red?
“I’ll arrange for a bed for you.”
“Yes, all right.” As if she could sleep.
When Nick was well enough to travel, she’d take him to the estate in California. He’d need time to recuperate and Lance couldn’t get to Nick there. He couldn’t get to
her
there, either. Her security people might have to work overtime, but she knew she could count on them.
In her head she knew Lance was responsible, but she was the one who’d set things in motion, the one who’d run away instead of facing up to her husband. And she’d made love with Nick.
Had Lance seen them together?
Had her love for Nick caused this nightmare?
Cara rode the elevator downstairs with Gerry. Her makeup was completely gone and she still wore the baggy green scrubs. Not the best way to face the cameras, but at that moment the only thing she cared about was Nick.
They reached the lobby as Dr. Johnson stepped up to the microphones. He gave a brief statement, and then Cara read hers.
“I’m Cara Andrews. I met Nick Donatelli the day of the earthquake, when my house collapsed. He risked his own life to pull me out of the rubble.
“Paramedics brought me here to the hospital the next day to get treatment for my injuries. I used the name Maxine Donatelli then because I didn’t want to be recognized, and because they said Nick couldn’t come along unless he was related to me. I was injured and sick and scared, and I didn’t want to go alone, so we said Nick was my husband. When we came in today, someone recognized me from before and called me Mrs. Donatelli.
“Earlier today, Nick and I were on the boat when I saw a man prowling around Nick’s house, looking in the windows. I looked through the binoculars and recognized my husband. He held a gun in his hand.
“While Nick started the engines on the boat, I called 911. I heard something ping against the boat, and then a bullet came through the window and hit Nick in the chest. I told the 911 operator what happened and tried to stop Nick from bleeding to death before help came.
“Thanks to the paramedics, Dr. Johnson and the staff here at Tacoma General Hospital, two family members who donated blood, and one who hasn’t stopped praying, Nick is still alive. I saw him a few minutes ago in the recovery room. He recognized me and spoke to me.
“Please pray for his recovery.”
Reporters shouted questions about Lance and Cara’s relationship with Nick, but she shook her head and stepped back. If she answered one question, they’d never stop, and she couldn’t deal with it now. She went back upstairs to sit in the waiting room with Nick’s family.
With Nick out of surgery, the tension eased somewhat. Cara and Aunt Sophia went to see Nick as often as they were allowed, and all they could do between visits was wait and pray. Aunt Sophia’s serene prayers and love bolstered Cara’s spirits and kept her from total collapse.
Cara felt numb, like a robot on auto-pilot, until the emotional impact crashed into her like a heavy wave. Love and hate and anguish came out in great body-shaking sobs, as if every tear she hadn’t been allowed to shed had been saved for this day, the day she nearly lost Nick.
<>
Late that evening, a private duty nurse accompanied Nick to the private suite. After a few minutes, Cara sent Aunt Sophia to bed, and then she sat in Nick’s room, holding his hand. She couldn’t stop looking at him, watching him breathe, loving him more every second. Around two in the morning, she finally rested her head on the side of his bed and let sleep claim her.
Sometime after dawn, she felt fingers in her hair. Nick was awake, playing with her curls. The nurse opened the blinds and bright sunshine streamed through the window.
Cara lifted her head and smiled at Nick. He looked pale and scruffy, but he was alive. Thank God he was still alive.
The nurse gave Nick a sip of water. Cara sat up and pushed the hair out of her face. “How do you feel?”
“You don’t want to know.” His voice sounded gruff, as if he had a sore throat.
She tried to stretch, but her shoulder had stiffened up, and she could barely move it.
Nick glanced at the nurse fooling with the IV. “Do I have a nurse all the time?”
“And a guard,” said Cara. “This place is crawling with reporters.”
The nurse put her hand on Cara’s shoulder. “Miss Andrews, why don’t you take a break while I check his dressing and get him cleaned up.”
Cara stood and kissed Nick on the forehead. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
A hot shower loosened her sore shoulder and eased her tired, achy body. As the hot water streamed over her, she thanked God for sparing Nick’s life. They’d been given another chance to live and to love.
Somehow, she had to make sure Lance couldn’t get to Nick again. She briefly considered hiring someone to hunt him down and kill him, but she wasn’t a violent person. Taking someone’s life, even Lance’s, was out of the question. She’d have to do it legally, through the court system.
<>
Lance found an attorney and convinced him that Cara was unbalanced and probably shot Nick and burned his house herself. He offered the lawyer a cut of his divorce settlement in exchange for his help with the criminal charges and the divorce. Although there would be no need for a divorce. He had no intention of letting his wife live that long.
An hour after Lance was released, he sat in front of television cameras, fully intending to get public sympathy on his side. He knew he wouldn’t get anything in a divorce settlement if he was convicted of a felony. They didn’t have anything solid on him or they would have charged him. He’d lay the responsibility for everything on Cara. Anyone could see she wasn’t playing with a full deck. Cara knew who he was all along, and Ian and Jane would testify to that. After what Cara had done to them, they’d say whatever he wanted them to say.