Hardball (40 page)

Get the gun! You have to get to the gun before he does!

It was so close. She stretched her arm out for it. But Arnold was faster. He dropped to one knee, seized the gun, and was back on his feet in what seemed like a fraction of a second. Holly watched in dismay as, with an economy of motion, he brought the gun up and aimed it back into the kitchen.

Holly screamed, expecting the next sound to be another deafening explosion from the gun—the sound that would mean that Nate’s life—and hers—would be over. Instead, she heard a sickening, thudding sound. A
splat
.

Pushing her hair out of her face, she swung her eyes up. Blood trickling down his face, Arnold teetered and collapsed, barely missing her as he hit the floor. She lay there, gaping at him beside her. Pain radiated down her left arm from shoulder to fingers.

What the hell?

As she stared, dazed, at Arnold—unconscious, his head bleeding—she heard footsteps. Suddenly, Nate’s strong arms lifted her into a sitting position and then surrounded her in a fierce embrace.

“You’re safe, honey. You’re safe,” his voice said in her ear. He knelt beside her, his arms holding her tight, enveloping her with his strength and warmth.

Her throat so tight she couldn’t speak, Holly finally let the tears come. She buried her face in Nate’s broad chest, and felt the pounding thud of his heart against her cheek. His hand cupped the back of her head, cradling her.

She snuggled into his neck for a moment longer, then peered up to inspect his face. He looked pale under his deep tan, and his pupils were a bit dilated, but otherwise he seemed okay. “Nate, what about you? Are you all right?”

He kissed her cheek gently. “Not a scratch. No bruises. Nothing.”

She slumped back in relief. “Thank God. But you’re completely crazy—you know that?”

She could hear sirens close by. It seemed like forever since Arnold had fired the first shots, but she knew it had been only a handful of minutes. The police had responded very quickly. But not as quickly as Nate.

Holly let him hold her, staying still and quiet. Nate rocked her, whispering to her, covering her ear, her cheek, her neck with soft kisses. His arms around her felt so good. So right. And she knew at that moment that everything between them would be fine.

Nate was right. Everything
had
changed. They’d faced down a madman and survived. There was nothing they couldn’t figure out together, no problem they couldn’t solve.

Then her eyes snapped wide open.

”Shit,” she groaned as her gaze flicked to Arnold’s inert body. “I almost forgot about him. Nate, hurry—get my medical bag. You know where I keep it.”

Nate got a mulish look on his face, like he was about to protest, but she pushed out of his arms.

“I hate him, too,” she said. “But I have to try and help him.”

“Okay,” he sighed, getting to his feet. “I guess that’s one of the reasons I love you so much. You’re a way better person than I am.”

She stared after him as he hurried from the room, her mouth hanging open. Did he just say he loved her?

Focus, Holly.

Shaking off her daze, she rolled onto her knees and held two fingers to Arnold’s carotid. His pulse was a little erratic, which didn’t surprise her. His forehead and face were now a mess of bright, red blood. She got up, ignoring her complaining body, limped into the kitchen, and returned with a stack of tea towels. Folding one into a small square, she pressed it gently against his forehead. With that kind of wound, she suspected Arnold might even have a skull fracture. How it happened, she still hadn’t figured out. Taking no chances, she kept the pressure as light as possible while still trying to stanch the bleeding.

Flashing lights flooded the street. Seconds later, she heard voices in the yard, and Nate’s footsteps as he thudded down the stairs.

“Three cruisers and a fire rescue truck,” he said. “I’m going to talk to them.”

“Yell through the door,” she said. “I don’t want any more bullets flying.”

“Good thinking.” He set the medical bag down beside Holly and moved to the front door. “The shooter’s down,” he shouted. “Everybody else is okay. Can I open the door now?”

Seconds later, two paramedics rushed inside, one carrying a heavy medical kit. “I’m a doctor,” Holly said as they dropped to their knees beside her. “This man has a severe head trauma. Possibly a skull fracture.”

“Got it,” the older one replied. “We’ll take it from here, ma’am.” His eyes did a quick scan of her body. “Actually, you look like you could use some attention yourself.”

She shook her head. “Focus on him for now. I just have a few bruises.”

The younger paramedic started to run a line into Arnold’s thick forearm. As she glanced past them toward the doorway, where Nate was standing talking with the policemen, Holly noticed an odd-shaped object on the floor. On her hands and knees, she crawled a few feet to gingerly retrieve it.

When she realized what it was, her mouth dropped open.

She held in her hand the snow globe Nate had given her at the golf banquet. The small but surprisingly heavy souvenir had a chunk missing out of its ceramic base and was streaked with blood.

She raised her eyes quizzically at Nate and raised the globe toward him. “Nate, my God. You actually hit him with this thing?”

He broke away from his conversation and stared down at her, handsome and seriously intense, looking like a battle-hardened warrior. Then he gave her a sweet, lopsided grin. “It was the most important pitch I’ve thrown in my life.”

Holly gazed up at him, dumbfounded. Nate had saved her with the little snow globe he’d given her on their first date? Talk about quick thinking. Or karma.

He shrugged and reached down to help her up, frowning when she grimaced. “I needed some kind of weapon. I was thinking I’d have to scramble around for a kitchen knife, or something else sharp. But as soon as I stepped inside, I saw the snow globe on the counter. Not far from the door. So, I just dived inside, and then got up and grabbed it. The rest was pure instinct, I guess. He wasn’t more than twenty feet from me. I couldn’t miss at that distance.”

“You’re nuts,” she said, shaking her head. And brave and foolhardy. She hated to think what would have happened if his aim hadn’t been true. Then again, this was a man who could easily hit a catcher’s glove from sixty feet away.

He took her in his arms. “Well, it worked, right? Thanks to you, since you had the guts and the brains to go for the bastard’s gun hand. You gave me the time I needed.” He shook his head as he gazed down into her face, his eyes warm and rueful. “Man, what you did was batshit crazy, but you saved us both.”

Holly clutched him fiercely, burying her face in the warmth of his broad chest. “We saved each other.”

They stood, locked in a tight embrace, until someone cleared his throat.

“Sorry to interrupt, folks,” said one of the cops. “The Crime Scene Unit will be here in a few minutes, so we have to get everyone out and secure the scene. Unless you need to get medical attention, ma’am, we’d appreciate it if both of you could come back to the station with me now.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Nate asked, carefully running his hands over her shoulders.

“I won’t be wearing any swimwear until the bruises fade,” she said with a wince. “But yes, I’m ready to go. Let’s do it.”

Nate grabbed her purse in the kitchen and then came back for her. Leaning against him, secure in the clutch of his strong right arm, Holly managed to get herself to the police cruiser. Less than ten minutes later, they were at the town police headquarters, drinking industrial strength black coffee from paper cups. At that point, she thought it tasted as good as any cup of coffee she’d ever had.

Mercifully, it took little more than an hour to give their statements. The detective who had been called in to meet them couldn’t have been more understanding, repeatedly asking them if they’d prefer to come back tomorrow. They thanked him for his kindness, but Holly wanted to get it over with. The detective efficiently wrapped things up, telling them he’d call Detective Rich for further details on Lance Arnold.

A uniformed officer drove them home, and they arrived just as the Crime Scene Unit was packing up. Together, they surveyed the damage. The front door was well-aerated but still functional, so after the crime scene guys departed they stuffed the bullet holes with wadded-up newspaper and covered them with duct tape. The door to the garage was trashed, unfortunately. Nate started messing around with it, muttering under his breath.

By this time, reaction was seriously setting in, and all Holly could do was stand there, swaying a bit on wobbly legs, watching Nate work. As he tried to wrestle the door back onto its hinges, he paused to look at her face. He obviously didn’t like what he saw, for a heavy frown descended on his features.

Holly stripped off her clothes and stared at herself in the mirror as the bathtub filled, wincing as she checked the ugly bruises forming on her hip and shoulder. They would likely fade before the mental ones did. Little shudders kept rippling through her body, and she knew it would be a long time before she could put Arnold’s attack behind her.

But she was alive, thanks to Nate, and she
would
get past it. She had a second chance at life, and she had no intention of wasting it.

As she lowered herself into the tub, she couldn’t help thinking about poor little Tyler Arnold. Mother dead. Father on his way to prison after he recovered from his injury. Surgeries and long hospital stays an inevitable part of his future. But at least he had a chance at life now—just like Holly—and Mrs. Crump would see to Tyler’s care. Maybe the other relatives in Maryland could even take the boy in, and his follow-up care could be transferred to Johns Hopkins. Holly would talk to Nate about raising money. Whatever it took, she would do everything she could to help. She and Tyler had an unbreakable bond, now, and she wouldn’t abandon him.

Nate brought her the promised wine, kissing her with sweet tenderness as he placed it carefully on the edge of the tub. She sighed and leaned back as he left, letting the hot water soothe her aches and release the last of her tension.

She almost dozed off several times, but wouldn’t let herself. After twenty minutes, she toweled off and wrapped up in her comfy cotton robe. Sliding her feet into the flip-flops she’d left by the door, she went back down to find Nate. He’d stretched out on the sofa, shoes off, and was blowing on a cup of steaming coffee. A full glass of wine rested on the table in front of him, waiting for her.

With a smile, he sat up and made room for her beside him. Holly didn’t hesitate. She grasped the wine glass and snuggled close to him, tucking her legs up beside her.

“That smells good. Okay if I have a tiny taste?” she asked softly. Despite the bath, she still felt a bit cold—more inside than out—and the hot brew suddenly seemed more inviting than wine.

“Quite a lot of added something,” she said, savoring the kick of Jack Daniels. It felt so easy and right to be with Nate again. She’d missed him terribly, even though he’d been gone less than a day. And thank God he’d come back early, or—

An image of that gun, pressing into her forehead, flashed through her mind. She let out a soft moan and snuggled up closer to Nate.

“Hey, hey, it’s all over now,” he said. He set down the cup and enfolded her in his arms. “You’re with me, and that crazy bastard will never touch you again. Nobody ever will, as long as I’m around.”

Holly nodded, willing the image of the gun to fade. But even though Nate had set the living room mostly to rights, she could still visualize everything that had happened in that room with sickening clarity.

“I don’t think I can live in this house anymore,” she said. How could she ever work in that kitchen again without thinking of Lance Arnold’s disgusting body hammering her into the counter?

“Of course not,” Nate said, squeezing her even tighter. “You’ll stay with me until you find another place. As long as you like.”

Her immediate instinct was to agree, but caution held her back. Despite everything that had happened between them today, they had yet to articulate what it really meant. And she had no intention of pushing him to do it tonight.

“You don’t have to do that,” she said. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ll figure something out.”

But not right now. Tonight she needed him to hold her, and she needed to start letting go of the nightmare of the last few weeks. Everything else could wait till tomorrow.