Hidden in the Shadows (12 page)

With a quiet groan, she waved her hand in his direction. “Go ahead and unfasten it, please.” He hesitated, and she looked in the mirror, meeting his gaze. The flush had deepened, and she frowned. “What?”

“When I start cutting these out, you’re going to have to stretch out over the sink. You may expose your chest when you do that if you take off the bra.”

She looked down to where she held the pillow clenched against her breasts, and her mind raced. Of all the times for Ethan and Stacy’s words to come back to haunt her, it would be now. Without looking at him, she asked, “If you see my naked breasts, are you going to have the uncontrollable urge to ravish me?” Exasperated with herself, she shook her head, hurting too much to be embarrassed. “Never mind. I can’t believe I asked that. The pain’s addling my brain.”

Wyatt pursed his lips. “Not under these circumstances, anyhow. I think I can control myself.”

She blinked, surprised by his response, but a sharp twinge pulsed through her back before she could question him further. “Then let’s get these damned hooks out of me before they become permanently embedded or cause gangrene. Please?”

He grabbed another old towel out of the closet and draped it across her hips. “You have some iodine here. I’m going to use it to sterilize the field.” Donning a pair of gloves from the kit, he instructed her to lean over. “Ready?”

She nodded, wrapping her hands around the edge of the pillow, and he started removing the first two hooks. They came out quickly, with little resistance.

“The one in your bra is next. I’m going to unfasten the bra and cut the portion with the hook in it. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” As he worked, she felt sweat beading on her face, and she swallowed against the nausea that threatened to rise. “Can you talk to me, please? I’m not feeling so great.”

“Okay. What about?”

She hesitated. “Tell me how your appointments went.”

He laughed, but with no humor in the sound. “Well, Marsha was less than receptive. I haven’t talked to her since Julie died, and our conversation was strained, to say the least.”

“How did you approach the subject with her?”

“I told her the truth. I explained about the letter, what it said, and what I suspected she’d done. Take a deep breath for me, then let it out.” When she exhaled, he made the cut that would release the third hook. Within seconds, he dropped the rusty hook onto the gauze pad with the first two.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. It’s hardly been worse than a strong pinch so far. So what did Marsha say?”

“She wanted to know why I hadn’t arrested her six years ago if I suspected her of assisting Julie’s suicide.”

Maria turned her head toward him. “Why didn’t you?”

He hesitated for a moment. “I don’t know. It just… I was grieving, in shock, and all I had was a gut feeling, nothing I could prove. I thought about all the hurt it would cause if I made the accusation…” With a self-deprecating laugh, he shook his head. “Who am I kidding? To be perfectly honest, I couldn’t bring myself to care one way or another. I wasn’t in a very good place mentally.”

“That’s understandable, Wyatt.”

He shrugged, placing a hand low on her back beside the next hook. “I suppose. This one is going to hurt more.”

“Go ahead.” She gasped as he made the cut that would free the next hook. “You weren’t kidding.”

Cursing viciously, he slid his hand up to her uninjured shoulder and squeezed gently. “I’m sorry. Just breathe through it.”

“How about giving me a minute before you do the next one?”

“Sure thing. Just tell me when you’re ready.”

The sharp burn slowly dissipated into a throbbing ache, and she exhaled slowly. “I’m ready. So was she able to help you?”

“I don’t know. She wouldn’t admit to having told anyone. Hell, she wouldn’t admit to anything. I’ve never been Marsha’s favorite person, even before Julie died.”

“Why not?”

He carefully removed the next hook, then dabbed the area around the wound with a piece of gauze. “She blames me for Julie not having been happy the last few years of her life.”

Maria snorted. “I’m sorry, but that’s ridiculous. Julie was an adult. She was responsible for her own happiness. We all are. If we’re miserable with who and what we are, it’s up to us to change things.”

“True, but I wasn’t a great husband.”

She rolled her eyes, not believing that for an instant. “Did you abuse her in any way? Beat her, belittle her? Try to tear her down or keep her isolated from her friends and family?”

“God, no! She was independent, stubborn. She’d have had my head on a platter if I’d tried anything like that, even if I were the kind of man who gets his kicks from abuse. I just… we grew apart the last few years, and I guess I didn’t fight hard enough to remedy that.”

“And how hard did she fight for your marriage?” Maria asked.

Wyatt shrugged. “I don’t know. Not hard enough, I guess.”

Very carefully, she moved her hand to cover his where it rested on the counter. “Don’t you think it’s time you forgave yourself for something you didn’t do?”

He stared at her for a long moment. Swallowing, he cleared his throat. “We’d better get this last hook out.”

Cursing herself for going too far, she held up her hand and stopped him. “I’m sorry if I offended you. That wasn’t my intention.”

“I’m not offended.” He started working at freeing the deepest hook. “I guess I’m a little surprised. I haven’t spoken so bluntly to anyone else about my marriage before. It’s… not easy to bring all that up again now.”

“I imagine not.”

Taking a deep breath, he grimaced. “This hook is in pretty deep. I don’t know if I can get it out with making a good-sized cut. I’ll try, but it’s going to be rough.”

“Do I need to get something to bite down on?” When he hesitated, she gave him a strained smile. “I’m kidding. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded, and turned her face down into the pillow. Wyatt started working out the last hook, but when she whimpered, he stopped. “No, finish it. Please.”

With a few more cuts, the hook was out. He tossed the scalpel he’d been using down on the counter with the hook and braced his bloody hands on its surface. After a brief minute, he started gently dabbing at the last cut with a gauze pad. “I don’t think you’re going to need stitches, but irrigating these wounds thoroughly is going to be the key for preventing infection.”

She nodded, unable to speak, and he hunkered down beside her, stripping off the gloves. “Talk to me. Are you okay?” He turned her face toward him, and when he saw her tears, he cursed, his voice soft. Rising, he moved to the closet for a washcloth and dampened it in the other sink. “Here, let’s wash your face.” As he brushed the cloth across her face, his touch was so gentle, it made her want to cry all over again.

Slowly, keeping the pillow clutched to her chest, she sat up.

“Maria…”

With a hand that trembled, she reached out and touched his face, then wrapped her hand around one of his. “Thank you.”

Almost as if he were unable to stop himself, he held the back of her hand to his face, then stood. “We need to get those wounds irrigated before they close up too much.”

She eased herself to her feet. “I’ve got blood in my hair. Think I’d be okay to take a quick shower?”

He considered her wounds. “Probably. It’s—”

“Gonna hurt. I know.”

“Are you going to be able to stand on your own that long? You’re pale as a ghost.”

Taking a tentative step, she wobbled and let go of the pillow to clutch at the counter.

“Steady.” Wyatt grasped her upper arms. “Why don’t you wait on the shower?”

She nodded and crossed an arm over her breasts.

“Put your arms around my neck. I’m going to carry you to the bed.”

“No! You’ll break your back. I’m way too heavy for you to carry.”

He grinned. “A puny little thing like you? Nah. Arms, neck. That’s an order.”

Rolling her eyes, she slid her right arm around his shoulders as he bent and lifted her into his arms. With one of his arms carefully across her back, the other under her knees, Maria was amazed when he didn’t stagger as he walked to the bedroom and gently placed her on the bed.

“See? Told you.” His grin was boyish. “That put some color back into your cheeks, anyhow.” Grabbing an extra towel from the foot of the bed, he handed it to her. “Lay on your stomach, and I’ll get started on those.”

Moving awkwardly as she tried to keep the towel in place over her chest with one arm, she struggled to get onto her stomach. Giving up, she let the towel drop. “You’ve already seen the girls, anyhow. Just consider this a bonus round.” Both hands free, she was face down in seconds, and heard Wyatt choking back laughter.

“No, go ahead and laugh,” she said. “I’m sure someday, if I ever decide to tell anyone else about this, it’ll be funny.”

“I’m sorry. It’s been a long day.” As if to punctuate that statement, his stomach growled noisily.

Maria turned her head to look at him, and when she saw that his cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, it was her turn to chuckle. “After we’re done, I’ll feed you if you don’t mind spending a little more time in my company. It just so happens that I have a full pot of homemade soup in the fridge, and sandwich fixings. It isn’t fancy, but it’s exceptionally good soup.” She was gratified to see his mouth move into the hint of a smile.

“Exceptional, huh? I might have to stick around and see for myself.”

She rested her head on her arms as he started working. “I don’t cook very many things, but what I do make, I make well. After everything you’ve done here, the least I can do is give you a meal.”

“Well, if you put it that way, I guess I’ll let you twist my arm.”

Despite the pain, she wanted to dance. Hiding her face in her arms, she settled for a smile.

~ * * * ~

When Wyatt had walked into the warehouse earlier that evening, the very last thing he’d expected to find was Maria, injured. When he had realized just how seriously she was hurt, he’d felt sick.

As he moved around her kitchen in his white t-shirt, his heart was finally starting to settle down.

“Are you sure you don’t want my help?” she asked as she watched from the table. The look he shot her had her raising her hands. “I’m just asking.”

“I’m quite sure, thank you. And I’ll have you know that I am an accomplished chef, if that’s what you’re worried about. I can heat soup and make sandwiches in my sleep.”

Maria, dressed in a comfortable sweatshirt and pajama bottoms, laughed. “Oh, really? Do tell.”

He nodded as he removed the first sandwich from the sauté pan. “I love to cook. Always have.”

“You’re serious?”

“Sure. If I hadn’t become a cop, I probably would have become a chef. It’s still not out of the question.” He dished up the steaming vegetable soup and set a bowl in front of her. He quickly followed it with the sandwich.

“Do you ever wish you’d chosen cooking instead of law enforcement?”

He shrugged as he plated his own sandwich and joined her at the table. “Some days, yeah. Today, for example, would have been a wonderful day to have been a chef instead of a sheriff.”

Her expression was sympathetic. “Ah, but if you had chosen the cooking, you couldn’t have come to my rescue this evening and spent the last hour taking rusty fish hooks out of my back.” Picking up her water glass, she toasted him. “We’re really going to have to work on your dating techniques.”

He was glad he didn’t have any food in his mouth because his laughter would have choked him. Once the shock passed, he still wasn’t sure what to say. Maria took a bite of her sandwich, watching him with an expectant look. He finally settled on their usual teasing camaraderie.

“I will have you know that there is nothing wrong with my ‘dating technique,’ as you call it.”

Rolling her eyes, Maria grinned. “Oh, really? Let’s see. For our first date, you leave your evening with another woman, tear me away from a good steak dinner, and then drop me off at a remote location to sit for hours. I have to catch a ride with a cop to get into town, and when you finally remember me, you take me to a cheap diner and feed me waffles. Waffles, Sheriff, do not make a good substitute for a steak dinner.”

He was laughing so hard, she stopped and waited until he’d calmed down before she continued. “As if that weren’t bad enough, you leave me at my door without so much as a peck on the cheek. I get it—you don’t want to go out a second time—but then you show up at my job and ask for a favor. ‘Maria, can’t you leap tall buildings for me, pretty please?’ Not that I couldn’t do it, mind you, but still… it’s the thought that counts.”

She stopped to take a bite of her sandwich, and he leaned forward, placing his arms on the table. Still chuckling, he shook his head. “That’s just terrible, the way you’ve been treated. Do go on, please. Tell me how it ends.”

“Oh, I suppose I can.” The grin she shot him was full of mischief. “So the next thing I know, you’re sneaking up on me in the Brown Bag, buying my breakfast. Do you know what people are going to think? My reputation will be ruined. I’ll be considered a fallen woman. No decent man will have me.” She gave a dramatic whimper.