Bulletproof Bride

Feeling unaccountably like Benedict Arnold, she stalked to the kitchen.

The snap and crackle of the fire was the only sound in the cabin as she made a tuna sandwich and carried it to the small table near the window. Chewing slowly, she managed to draw out her meager meal. Twenty minutes later, she poked a cautious head through the doorway.

Gabe lay stretched out on the couch, the mug still clutched in one hand. His sooty lashes rested against his cheeks and his full lips were parted. He was motionless, not even appearing to breathe.

Had she given him too many pills? Her stomach flip-flopped. Pulse racing, she stared at his broad chest until she saw the rise and fall of his deep, rhythmic breaths. “Gabe?” she whispered.

He didn’t move.

“Gabe?”

Still no response.

She tiptoed across the room, and then carefully turned the doorknob. The door swung open with a slight creak. She stepped across the threshold.

“Don’t leave me!” Gabe begged, his voice husky with anguish.

Her heart rocketed into her throat. She whirled.

Still asleep, but restless, he flung out his arm and the empty mug fell to the rug. Heart pounding, she stood frozen until her muscles cramped, waiting for him to resettle into deep slumber. Finally, she crept outside.

“No!” he cried. “Please don’t go!”

A choking lump lodged in her throat. Who was he pleading with in his dream world?

Her chest tight, she eased the door closed and crept out into the darkness—feeling oddly as if she had left something precious behind.

Chapter 3

Enveloped in blackness, Tessa paused. The ocean roared on her left, loud in the quiet night. She turned in the opposite direction and broke into a run. Blindly, she stumbled through the woods, clawing aside rough branches and wet leaves. Finally her burning lungs grew unbearable and a stitch caught in her side. Gasping in the damp air, she clutched her aching ribs and slowed to a walk.

The night closed around her like a predator cornering his prey. An eerie screech rang out, echoed through the fog-shrouded forest. The hairs on her arms prickled. The bushes beside her rustled, and she swallowed a scream. Gabe’s advice to focus on something else popped into her mind.

She hummed “Don’t Be Cruel” as her thoughts spun. Gabe—what a puzzle. Even when she’d tossed her cookies in his car and whacked him with the door during her escape attempt, he’d kept his good humor. And when she’d been terrified in the boat, he’d comforted her with a story about his foster mom. And a tender, calming kiss.

Obviously, he’d been in the juvenile care system, not always the best environment. His foster mom sounded loving, though. What had caused the flash of anguish in his eyes? And to whom was he crying out in his sleep? Her heart contracted at the memory of his desperate plea.

The irony of the situation struck her and a grim smile tightened her mouth. Not only had she taken the advice of a man she was running away from, thoughts of him provided the distraction that kept her panic at bay.

Suddenly, pain exploded in her forehead. Reeling backward, she plopped down in the damp grass. Brilliant stars crackled in front of her dazed eyes. She blinked, peering upward into the darkness. The twisted shape of a low-hanging branch loomed above her. She must have smacked into a tree limb.

Tessa gingerly explored the swelling knot on her forehead. It wasn’t bleeding, but the throbbing sting made tears stream from her eyes. She clenched her teeth against a whimper. Throwing a pity party wouldn’t accomplish a thing. The only way out was to keep going. She blinked again and then clambered to her feet. Shivers crawled up her spine, and she wrapped her arms around her middle. Warily peering into the gloom for any more of Mother Nature’s ambushes, she doggedly put one foot in front of the other.

Hours of cold, lonely progress later, she stumbled out of the smothering thicket of trees and onto a highway. The long ribbon of asphalt loomed black and empty. On a guess, she turned right and kept trudging, praying she was headed toward a town.

Her plodding steps in tandem with her pounding head, she trudged along the gravel shoulder. She’d quit humming hours before. Her pinched, empty stomach grumbled in the silence. The pale morning sun peeked over the horizon, weaving golden strands through pink-and-lavender clouds. Another round of shivers rattled through her and she hunched over, too forlorn to appreciate the beauty. The unexpected rumble of an engine behind her sent her spirits soaring. She whirled and waved, but the car sped past. Sharp disappointment speared through her. Her despair deepened when she saw the taillights of a green sedan. Why had she expected a gray Jag?

The miles dragged by in an icy-cold blur before she finally spotted a weigh station with an Oregon State Patrol car parked in the turnaround. Her knees weak with relief, she staggered toward the welcome sight.

A tall, square-jawed trooper jumped out and helped her to the car. “Sit down, ma’am.” He opened the back door. Shaking, she sank onto the seat. He squatted down. “What happened?”

“I’m Tessa Beaumont. I was…kidnapped yesterday during a bank robbery in Riverside.”

The officer studied her forehead. “Did the perpetrator assault you?”

Tessa drew a ragged breath. “No. Please take me home.”

“You were in the woods all night?”

At her nod, he rose and walked away. The car bounced as the trunk popped open. In seconds, he returned with a foil blanket. “There’s a small hospital in Forreston, ten minutes away.”

“No hospital. If you can’t take me home, please call a cab.”

The cop patted her hand. “After the doctor checks you out.” He climbed into the front seat. The engine rumbled and flashing blue lights reflected off the car’s hood. She huddled into the blanket, her teeth chattering.

Before long, he hustled her into the hospital. Ignoring her objections, a burly nurse stripped off Tessa’s damp suit and underwear and strong-armed her into a hospital gown. Draped in a white blanket, she perched on the exam table, her uncontrollable trembling making the paper covering crackle.

The door swung open, giving her a whiff of the sharp, medicinal smell from the hall. A tall doctor with salt-and-pepper hair strode into the room. He wheeled a stool to the exam table and sat down. “I’m Dr. Maxwell.” His kind hazel gaze studied her. “I understand you’ve been through quite an ordeal. Would you like to tell me about it?”

“I’m cold, that’s all. I’m going home.” She tried to climb off the table, but her wobbly limbs refused to obey.

“Not the best idea, Miss Beaumont. You’ve sustained a head injury. You’re weak and shaky because you’re suffering from hypothermia.” The doctor probed at the knot on her head, flashed a bright light in her eyes and asked questions about double vision and nausea. “The laceration on your forehead isn’t serious, but you do have a concussion. We’ll take a CAT scan and keep you overnight for observation.” He glanced at his clipboard. “The nurse said your clothes were disheveled and torn. Did your abductor sexually assault you?”

Tessa jerked upright, a gasp bursting out of her. “No!”

Doctor Maxwell’s bushy brows pinched in a concerned frown. “Don’t be afraid to tell me the truth, Miss Beaumont. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, and your life could be at stake. There are diseases—”

Dizziness washed over her and the room whirled. “He didn’t even hint at anything like that! My suit got ruined when I ran through the woods.”

“You’re in shock.” He patted her hand. “Completely understandable considering the circumstances. Will you consent to a thorough exam and lab tests?”

“You’re not hearing what I’m saying. There’s no need.” She ordered her weak, trembling body to climb down, but couldn’t summon the strength. “He listened to me better than this.”

“You’ve suffered a blow to the head combined with a traumatic event. But don’t you worry about a thing; we’ll take good care of you. I’ll send the nurse in with an IV.” The doctor again patted her hand. “After the scan, we’ll settle you into a room. You’ll feel much better after you’ve had a chance to rest. Would you like me to notify your family?”

Tessa gave him Mel’s number. The nurse returned with an IV bag and a needle so huge she could have knitted an afghan. Tessa gritted her teeth and focused on the only thing that helped. The image sustained her through the endless, claustrophobic CAT scan and was the last thing she saw before she fell asleep.

Gabe’s rain-forest green eyes.

Tessa woke to Mel’s angry hiss. “What do you mean you can’t find her clothes? What is she supposed to wear home, one of those idiotic gowns? She’ll get arrested for indecent exposure!”

“Mel?” she mumbled.

Mel’s worried blue gaze met her own. “Are you okay?”

Dazed, Tessa struggled to sit up, blinking at the painful stab of sunlight. “Nothing eight or nine aspirin won’t cure.” She pressed her palm to her forehead, where the Philadelphia Philharmonic Orchestra was conducting cymbal practice. “What time is it?”

“Barely past dawn. You’ve been out for almost twenty-four hours.” Mel grabbed her hand and squeezed Tessa’s fingers. “I’ve been so worried.”