Playing For Keeps (Montana Men) (41 page)

There must have been a nail, and of course, she’d found
it. Ripping off the bottom of her shirt, she tied a makeshift bandage around
her arm. Then, snatching up the bow once again, she crawled up the roof,
ignoring the pain. She wasn’t hurt nearly as bad as Duel. He needed her help.
This was no time to wimp out.

Reaching the center ridge of the roof, she dropped to her
belly once again and peeped over the edge. Duel hadn’t moved and she wondered
if he was still breathing.

“Please, God, take care of him until I can. I love him.”

She turned her attention to the woods, watching for any
sign of movement. Nothing. What the hell was he doing, playing a game of cat
and mouse with her? Right. And she was the ill-fated mouse? Not today, she
thought. Today—she was a lioness. The love of her life was in trouble. She’d
save him or die trying.

There!

He was there, creeping along the edge of the tree line
moving as slow as a snail toward the cabin. Flayme watched the assassin slip
away from the cover of the forest, crouch, look around, then move forward with
caution. The man was dressed in white from head to toe. The first time she’d
scanned the area with the scope, she’d completely missed him tucked low behind
a snow-covered log.

She took a deep breath to steady her nerves, rested the
bow on the center ridge and watched him through the scope. “Come on,” she
whispered. “I need one clear shot.”

She couldn’t believe it when he stood up and ambled toward
the cabin. “Cocksure sonofabitch.” Flayme lined him up in the scope, set the
red light on his shoulder and slowly squeezed the trigger. The arrow flew,
silent, smooth and straight at her target.

“Ahhhhh!”

“Yes!” Flayme watched as he dropped his weapon and crashed
to the ground. He skittered around, rising, and stumbling back into the woods.
“Not so proud of yourself now, are you?” she yelled from the roof. “Go on, run,
you sniveling coward!”

She crept down the roof and dropped onto the deck. Flayme
felt like punching the air with a victory fist. She’d nailed the bastard good.
Racing through the house to the front door, she flung it open and hurried down
the steps.

“Duel!” Flayme fell down beside him and cradled his head
in her arms. “Come on, cowboy, open your eyes. Talk to me. I’m going to have
your baby. You aren’t dying and leaving me knocked up.”

He opened his eyes. “Flayme?”

“Yeah, I’m right here. I’m here.”

“House. Go…inside.”

She laughed. “You have a one track mind. I’m not leaving
you. He’s gone, at least for now.” The noisy whirr of a chopper overhead drew
her gaze away from Duel. “Please, let it be help.”

The helicopter landed in the clearing and two people
emerged, ducking and running toward her. Flayme laughed. She didn’t think she’d
ever been happier to see Samantha Rivers as she was at this moment. “Hurry,”
she said. “He’s in a bad way.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

How important it
is for us to recognize and celebrate our heroes and she-roes!

~Maya Angelou

Denver, Colorado

St. Anthony Central Hospital

February 20, Friday

9:00 p.m.

Flayme
sat beside Kaycee and Jace Remington and like them, waited for a report from
the surgeon or some other member from the hospital staff. It was easy to like
the couple, and certainly she saw the resemblance between Duel and his brother,
not only in looks, but in their rock steady support.

They
were the kind of men who’d settled the West, tough, fierce, and protective of
the people and things that mattered. They’d always be there when they were
needed.

Travis
was one of those kinds of males. The agent had stepped out to book a flight
back to D.C. for Sam and himself. Samantha sat to her right sipping coffee from
a Styrofoam cup. Hospital coffee was always bitter, strong, and black, but they
all needed the healthy dose of caffeine.

“Remington
family?” The serious sounding voice cut like a knife into her thoughts, jarring
her back to her surroundings.

“Yes?”
Jace rose to his feet.

The
man held out his hand. “I’m Doctor Brozil.”

Jace
shook the physician’s hand. “Jace Remington. Duel’s my brother.”

“Mr. Remington. I’m sorry we have to meet under these
circumstances. Your brother’s condition is serious. He’s stable now, but he
lost a lot of blood. We had to transfuse him, six units during surgery and I’ve
ordered three more to be given immediately.”

“Is
he going to be all right?” Kaycee looped her hand through her husband’s arm.

“My
wife, Kaycee.”

Doctor Brozil nodded. “The next twenty-four hours are
going to be rough, and even after that, your brother will have a long term
problem. One of the bullets was a through and through, and thankfully did
little damage. But the other one entered his right side, struck a rib and
pretty much tumbled around all over the place. It nicked his liver, then hit
his groin, nipping his femoral artery, the reason he lost so much blood. We
repaired the liver. We had to take a vein from his left leg to repair the
artery. The problem is, the bullet lodged right against his spine and for now,
it’s too risky to operate again. He’s too weak.”

“What?”
Jace looked stunned.

Flayme
swallowed hard. “That’s why he couldn’t feel his legs?”

“Yes.”
The doctor looked at her questioning.

“I’m
Flayme Jansen, Duel’s fiancée. I was with him when he was shot.”

Jace
and Kaycee both gave her odd looks. She could hardly blame them. Until now, she
hadn’t said anything about her and Duel’s plans to marry.

“Ah,
I see.” The surgeon nodded. “You’re the young lady he’s been asking for.”

“Is
he going to be able to walk?” Sam asked.

Doctor
Brozil frowned. “Maybe, but it’s going to be slow. He needs time to heal from
what he’s been through. However, it’s imperative he have that bullet removed as
soon as it’s safe to take him back into surgery. You need to locate a
specialist who’s willing to risk removing the bullet, but right now, he’s too
unstable. It’s going to take patience on his part. I’m sorry, I wish I could
tell you the outlook was better, but a lot of it is going to depend on his
attitude and the support of the ones he loves.”

Kaycee
smiled. “We’ve been down this road before, doctor. He’ll have all the support
he needs from all of us.”

“Good.
He’s in recovery. We’ll move him to ICU as soon as he’s more alert. He’ll be
hooked up to a lot of equipment, so don’t be alarmed.”

Flayme
nodded. “May I see him?”

“Once we get him settled in ICU, you can each see him for
five minutes. A nurse will come out and let you know when. He’s going to be
pretty muzzy, so don’t expect much response from him.”

“Thank
you,” Jace said.

Samantha
edged closer to Flayme. “Travis has our flight booked. We leave in three
hours.”

“We?”

Sam
frowned. “You, Travis, and I, we’ll get you into a witness protection program
in D.C.”

Flayme
looked around. Jace watched her as did Kaycee, but neither said a word.
Ultimately, she figured they were letting her make a choice without trying to
influence her decision. She shook her head. “I’m not going to D.C.”

“But,”
Sam blinked. “You won’t be
—
”

“Duel
needs me,” Flayme interrupted. From the corner of her eye, she saw Jace sigh
with relief.

“You
won’t be safe here, Flayme,” Sam said.

“Why
would I be any safer in D.C.?”

“Well…I
—
”

“I’m
not going.”

“You
could die, Flayme.”

“And
Duel almost died because of me. I can risk no less for him. He needs me here
and that’s the end of the discussion. If you need to hire another secretary,
then please, go ahead. I understand.”

“No
—
”

“In fact,” Flayme interrupted, “do go ahead and hire
someone in my place. I won’t be returning to D.C. at all, except as a witness
when you need me.”

Jace grinned and patted her shoulder. “Welcome to the family,
Flayme Jansen. I have a feeling my brother has finally met his match.”

She laughed. “You have no idea.”

Epilogue

On my tombstone just write, ‘The sorest
loser that ever lived.’

~Earl Weaver

Denver, Colorado

February 20, Friday

2:00 a.m.

“The
bitch shot me with a fucking crossbow,” Zaden yelled into the phone. “I got a
hole in my shoulder the size of a golf ball. You never said a word about her
being a hunter or her ability to shoot a bow. She shot me!”

“But
did you get her?” Kane asked, sounding bored. “Did you get her and the agent?”

“I
got him. Don’t know if he’s dead or alive though. The damn spooks showed up in
a whirlybird, took both targets outta there. You didn’t tell me I’d have to
deal with the CIA popping up.”

“The
first lady was assassinated. Every department of government is crawling out of
the woodwork,” Kane said patiently. “I told you that.”

“I’m
done here. I can’t shoot with my shoulder like this. Bitch got my gun arm.”

“I
agree. Besides, you wouldn’t be able to get close to either one of them now
that they know a hit man is near.”

Zaden
groaned. “I need painkillers, damn it!”

“Stop
whining. Why don’t you join me here in Podunk? We’ll lay low a couple of
days—kill a couple of bottles of tequila, give your arm time to mend. Two
hunters are always better than one. We’ll track down Jayla and this cowboy the
senator thinks she’s ran to for help.”

“I’ll
see you in a couple of days. I need a doctor.”

“Forget
that. You’ll see me today.”

“But
I’m bleeding!”

“Christ,
will you just plug it and get on the plane? I want you here as soon as
possible. I’m damn tired of these Remington men getting in my way. I want this
over and done.”

Zaden
sighed. “I’ll be there, but this pain…it’s going to cost you.”

* * * *

Denver, Colorado

St. Anthony Central Hospital

February 24, Tuesday

Flayme
sat down in a chair beside Duel’s bed and took his hand. He looked pale and so
damn beautiful she wanted to cry. Heck, it seemed to her all she’d done the
last couple of days was bawl.

“Hey,
beautiful.” He sounded weak. He tugged her closer for a kiss. “I missed you.”

“I
missed you, too.”

He
stroked a fingertip along the top of her hand. “I should tell you to go, but I
can’t bear the thought of you returning to D.C. without me.”

“I’m
not going back to Washington, at least not without you. Sam called and she
located a surgeon there who’s willing to remove that bullet pressed against
your spine.”

He
nodded and rubbed the top of her hand. She felt the slight tremble in his
fingertips, his uncertainty. “You know I could end up paralyzed for the rest of
my life?”

“Yes.”

“Flayme—”

“Don’t.”
She held up a hand. “I’m not leaving you, so don’t insist I go to D.C.”

“You
shouldn’t have risked staying here without protection. You could get killed,
doll baby. I’m in no shape to protect you.”

“I
could get killed crossing a busy intersection.” Tears welled into her eyes.
“You almost died because of me. I’m not leaving you.”

Duel
clasped her fingers between his. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to stay.
It was my job to risk my life. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

“I
know, and that’s why I love you so much.” Her voice broke. “Will you see the
surgeon in D.C.?”

He
squeezed her hand. “As long as you’re there with me, I can do anything. We’ll go
as soon as the doc clears me to leave here, but I want you to be certain and
fully understand I may never walk again.”

“I’m
positive I love you. Nothing else matters, except that you get better.”

Duel
fidgeted with the covers. “I swear to God I don’t want to tie you to a cripple,
but I don’t want to lose you.”

“Shhh.
You’ll walk again. Even if you
don’t, I’m still not going anywhere. I love you, Duel Remington. When I gave my
heart and body to you, I made a commitment for better or for worse. I don’t
have to say the words aloud. I don’t need a piece of paper to fulfill my vows.
In my heart, we’re already husband and wife, and my place is beside you.”

“Flayme.”
His voice cracked. “I don’t think either of us was expecting the worse right
away. I’m a selfish sonofabitch, because I can’t let you go. I know it isn’t
fair to tie you to me like this.”

“You
aren’t tying me to you. I’m tying you to me. You should know you’re going to be
a father, so I have you good and trapped, cowboy.”

Tears
traced the corners of his eyes. His eyes lit up. He squeezed her hand. “You
took a test?”

“This
morning.” She laughed, excited. “It’s so pink, there’s no doubt. I took three
of them just to be sure. They’re all rosy. I’m pregnant. So you don’t get to
dump me so easy.”

He
brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s going to be rough, me getting
back on my feet.”

“Uh-huh.” She patted his arm. “I’ll be right beside you
every new step you take.”

He grinned, that wicked roguish grin she adored. “My
Nicole,” he said softly.

She laughed. “One day, you’re going to have to tell me who
this Nicole person is. Should I be worried?”

“Nah. She’s a fantasy. You’re the real deal. You’re the
only woman who matters to me.” He pulled her close and kissed her mouth.
Releasing her, he studied her for a moment. “So, you brought down the assassin
with the crossbow? You know, there was a rifle you could have used.”

“Yep, but where’s the fun in that? Besides, I didn’t know
how many there were and you said an arrow was swift and quiet.”

Duel laughed and grabbed his side.
“Ow,
don’t make me laugh. How do you feel about learning how to
throw a knife? It’s swift and quiet, too.”

“Pretty damn good. How does one learn the proper
technique?”

“Well.” He drew her closer for a kiss. “It’s all in the
flick of the wrist…”

To be Continued…