Hard to Hold (16 page)

Maddie felt a reluctant smile tug at her mouth. “My brother is in a room downstairs, so I’m planning on staying the night. But even if he wasn’t, I couldn’t leave Colton.”

Reaching into his shirt pocket, Simon withdrew a small notepad and pen and scribbled on it before tearing the sheet free and handing it to her. “Here’s my number. I’m staying in Reno for the next few days until Colton is released. Call me if you need anything.” He glanced to where Susan and her husband were still talking with the surgeon. “I’m taking his mother and Billy out for a quick lunch. You’re welcome to come with us. In fact, I’d like it very much if you’d join us.”

“Thank you, but I think I’d feel more comfortable staying here,” Maddie demurred.

He nodded. “I understand. I’ll take Susan in to see him now, but we won’t be long.”

Maddie watched as Colton’s mom and stepfather went with Simon. Staying behind was the hardest thing she had ever done.

“Ms. Howe?”

She turned to see Marshal Cooper eyeing her.

“Why don’t I take your statement now while we’re waiting?”

Needing a distraction, Maddie nodded. For the next thirty minutes, as Siyota and Aiden listened, she told the marshal everything that had transpired since she’d received the funeral wreath and note from Jamie’s kidnappers. The only thing she left out were the intimate details of her time with Colton.

Marshal Cooper studied his hands. “You know,” he finally said, slanting her an amused glance, “I should press charges against you.”

“But you won’t.”

“No. Consider it a professional courtesy toward Colton.” He rose to his feet and slid his notepad and pen back into his pocket. “But I would advise you to have a long discussion with your brother about the pitfalls of gambling.”

Maddie smiled at him. “Don’t worry. I think he got the message. He’s going back to school, and any money he receives, he’s going to have to work for.”

Marshal Cooper arched an eyebrow, and his lips lifted in an answering smile. “Good luck with that, Ms. Howe.”

* * *

C
AUTIOUSLY
, M
ADDIE
ENTERED
Colton’s room. His parents and stepfather had left the hospital, but would return later that afternoon. Marshal Cooper, Aiden and Siyota had promised to drop by the following day to check on Colton’s progress. Jamie was resting in a room just down the hallway, and for now, Maddie could visit with Colton undisturbed. But she was unprepared to see him in his condition.

He lay in the narrow hospital bed with an IV drip attached to his arm and a heart monitor hooked to one finger. His eyes were closed, and if she hadn’t seen the slow rise and fall of his chest, she might have doubted that he was alive. The room smelled faintly of lemon-scented disinfectant and alcohol, and the shades on the window had been drawn, casting the room in cool shadows.

Quietly, Maddie pulled a chair up to the side of the bed and lowered the rail so she could reach out and hold his hand. He was completely unresponsive and unaware of her presence, and her heart broke a little at seeing him so helpless. She turned his hand over in her own, studying the strong fingers and short, neat nails. A faint scar bisected the pad of his thumb, and she smoothed her fingertip over it, wondering how he had acquired it.

Despite the fact that Colton had shared the story of his upbringing with her, she knew so little about him. She didn’t even know what his favorite color was, although she suspected he would say it was black, like his name. She knew he liked roasted chicken with biscuits, and that he preferred to spend his spare time at his cabin, fishing. He loved his family and maintained a close relationship with his childhood friends. She knew he was honorable and decent, and that if their paths hadn’t crossed at that roadside diner, there might have been a very different outcome to this whole situation.

Colton would be unharmed and probably kicking back at his cabin with a cold beer and a fishing pole. Jamie might be injured far worse than he was.

And she would never have known what it was like to be fully alive. In fact, if not for Colton, she might be dead. He had taken a bullet that had been meant for her. Tears blurred her vision as she pressed her hand against his, palm to palm. Her own hand was smaller and slender in comparison, her skin pale against his. She had placed both her and Jamie’s lives in his capable hands.

“Please be okay,” she whispered fiercely through her tears, and pressed his hand against her cheek. “Because I’m falling for you, too, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

“I already knew.”

Maddie raised her head in astonishment and saw Colton watching her through half-open eyes, a weary smile lifting one corner of his mouth. With a glad cry, she flung herself against his neck, careful not to disturb his injury. She rained kisses on his cheeks, his eyes and finally his mouth before she buried her face against his shoulder, not wanting him to see her cry. He held her close with one arm, sliding his hand into her hair as he pressed his mouth against her temple.

“Shh,” he murmured. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I’ll be out of here in a day or two.”

“Oh, Colton.” Her sobs were muffled against his shoulder. “You crazy man, you could have been killed.”

“Not a chance,” he replied. “Not when I have so much to live for.”

Maddie pulled back enough to search his face, but kept one hand entwined with his. “Are you in any pain?”

“Not much. I asked the doc to hold off on any more meds until after I saw you.” Colton wound a tendril of her hair around one finger and held her gaze. “I’m better now I know you’re safe. How’s your brother?”

“He’s fine,” she assured him, drinking him in. “A little banged up, but nothing serious.”

“Good.” Colton shifted against the pillow, and winced. Immediately, Maddie would have moved away, but he refused to release her. “No, you’re fine.”

“You’re in pain,” she protested. “Let me get a nurse to bring you something.”

“Later,” he insisted. “I want to talk to you first.”

Maddie swiped at her damp cheeks with her free hand and nodded. “Okay. But only for a short time.” She gave a small laugh. “I think your father, Aiden and Marshal Cooper would each gladly put me away for life if I let you overexert yourself.”

Colton laughed and then groaned a little, but refused to release Maddie’s hand when she sat up. “Where are my things? My clothes?”

She glanced quickly around the room and saw a plastic hospital bag on a chair in the corner. Releasing his hand, she retrieved the bag and carried it to the bed. “Your clothes are in here. What do you need?”

“Look in the front pocket of my jeans.”

Maddie sifted through the items inside the bag, briefly lifting his bloodstained shirt and seeing the tiny tear in the fabric where the bullet had passed through. With a small shudder of distaste, she dropped the shirt and searched through the front pockets of his jeans.

“Is this what you want?” She withdrew a small key on a chain and handed it to Colton, but he pushed it back toward her and folded her fingers around it.

“No, it’s yours.”

“Mine?” Maddie looked at him in bewilderment. “I’ve never seen this before. It must be yours.”

“No. It’s yours. There’s something else, in the back pocket of my jeans.”

“Colton, I don’t think—”

“Please, Madeleine, just get it.”

Maddie frowned, but searched his pockets and withdrew a folded envelope. She was about to hand it to him when she saw the writing on the outside of the envelope. There, in her grandfather’s distinctive scrawl, was written one word:
Maddie.
She looked at Colton in bewilderment.

“What is this? Why do you have it?” She walked toward the window, where the light was better, casting one curious glance at Colton. He looked tired and pale, but his expression was resigned.

“I took the key from your grandfather’s cabin. It was in that tin box, and you didn’t care about anything except the money.”

“But what about this?” she asked, feeling her chest tighten with emotion. “Why didn’t I know about this letter?”

“Because it’s been locked away in a safety deposit box at the U.S. Bank in Reno.”

Maddie looked at him in surprise. “That’s what the key was for? A safety deposit box?”

He nodded and tried to push himself to a sitting position, his expression tightening with pain.

“Colton, no,” she said, returning to his side. “Please don’t. You’ll hurt yourself.”

“I need you to know what was in that safety deposit box, Madeleine.”

She sat down on the edge of the bed and took his hand in hers. “Okay, I’m listening.”

“I obtained a search warrant and opened the box yesterday afternoon. It contained a little over two hundred thousand dollars in cash. And that letter.”

Maddie stared at him, uncomprehending. “What?”

“Your grandfather wasn’t just ranting when he said he had a fortune hidden in the cabin,” Colton explained. “But the key was what he referred to, not the money.”

Maddie sat back, stunned. She recalled how her grandfather had insisted the cabin was a gold mine, but she hadn’t understood his meaning. She’d thought it was the dementia talking. But Colton had seen the key, and knew where it belonged.

“Why didn’t you say something to me then?” she asked.

“Because I had no idea what the box would contain.” He gave her a tender, tolerant look. “Besides, would you have listened?”

Maddie smiled ruefully and caressed his lean cheek with the back of her fingers. “Probably not. I’d have thought it was a trick. But that much money? How in the world—”

“Read his letter, sweetheart.”

She turned the envelope over in her hands. It was still sealed. “You haven’t read it.”

“Of course not.”

He sounded a little indignant, and Maddie gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

Tearing the envelope open, she withdrew the paper inside with fingers that trembled and unfolded it. The date at the top indicated the letter had been written nearly eight years before her grandfather’s death. That would have been about the same time that Jamie had run away and come to live with her, when her grandpa’s drinking had been at its worst. The penmanship was crooked and messy like a child’s—or like a drunk’s—and Maddie wondered if he had written the letter during one of his drinking binges, and had then forgotten about it. What other reason could there be for not having given her the letter sooner?

Swallowing hard, she read it, and then read it again. By the time she was finished, she couldn’t stop the tears that flowed unchecked down her face.

“Hey, come here,” Colton said, and pulled her close so that her cheek was once more pressed against his shoulder. “Everything is going to be okay, I promise.”

Maddie nodded and sniffed. “I know. My grandfather wrote that he’s had this money for years, but guilt prevented him from ever spending it.” Sitting up, she pulled a tissue from the box on the bedside table and wiped her eyes, smiling apologetically at Colton. “We don’t need to talk about this now. You need to rest, and I need to let you.”

But Colton’s grip on her arm as she tried to stand was surprisingly strong. “Madeleine, I’m fine. I can rest later. Tell me what the letter says.”

There was no mistaking the insistence in his tone.

“Okay, but you need to stop me if you feel at all tired,” she said. The truth was, she wanted to tell him what was in the letter. She wanted to share everything with him.

“I’m not tired,” he said, but he let her adjust the pillows behind his shoulders to a more comfortable position.

“My grandfather gambled his entire life,” she began, “and he was pretty good at it. But when my father showed signs of becoming a compulsive gambler, Grandpa tried to counsel him, telling him he was going to lose everything, including his kids.”

Colton reached out and took her hand in his, squeezing her fingers in sympathy.

“Eventually,” Maddie continued, “my dad did lose everything, including money that wasn’t his to lose. My grandfather refused to bail him out, thinking he was teaching him a valuable lesson. But he never guessed that my father would commit suicide.”

Colton made a sound of sympathy. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

Maddie cleared her throat against the lump that had formed there. “My grandfather had the money to help him, and I don’t think he ever forgave himself for not giving it to my dad. That’s what drove him to drink so heavily.”

“That would be a heavy burden for anyone to bear.”

“My mother had passed away the year before from cancer, and my grandfather ended up with custody of me and my brother.” She traced a finger over the letter. “He writes here that the day we moved in with him was the day he stopped gambling. He wanted to be a good role model, and he intended to use the money he had to raise us. But he couldn’t stop himself from drinking.”

“He did the best that he could,” Colton said quietly.

Maddie nodded. “Yes. He closes the letter by asking for our forgiveness, saying that he hopes the money he’s left us will somehow compensate for the mess he and my father made of our lives.”

Colton tugged her down until she was lying beside him on the narrow bed, with her head under his chin. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” he said. “But I’ll never be sorry about what happened these past few days.”

“Me, neither,” Maddie agreed. “Except for you being shot, that is.”

“What will you do now?” he asked. “Two hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money.”

She wanted to tell him that she didn’t care about the money; she just wanted to be with him. She’d gotten by her entire life without having much money, and she didn’t need it in order to be happy.

“I don’t know,” she said, smiling. “I’ll probably just keep it in reserve for the next time I need to ransom my brother.”

Colton arched an eyebrow in a look she’d come to know very well over the past few days. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”

“No,” she agreed. “I’m not going to let that happen. I’ll start by getting myself a new car. And Jamie has agreed to get some help for his gambling addiction. Maybe I could use the money to help other teens who have addictions—kids who might not have access to treatment. Jamie’s also going to do an outreach program, to warn other kids about the perils of gambling. That was his idea.”