Forever A Hero

“Sam Helgeson called it in five minutes ago,” Spence said. “I’ve already got a squad car and a wrecker on the way.” He paused. “You okay, buddy?”

“I’m fine,” Mace said. Where had he heard that before?

“You sure? You sound pretty jumpy to me.”

Mace gave a long sigh. “I’m sure,” he said.

“Hold on a second,” Spence muttered. “Deputy Brenner’s on the radio. He’s at the scene.”

Mace waited. He heard some back-and-forth on Spence’s end, although he couldn’t make out what was said. He was too busy wondering what was going on with Kelly Wright back there in the exam room and, at the same time, rifling through his mental files, which—when it came to women, were considerable—in search of a connection.

He came up dry.

He’d probably known half a dozen Kellys in his time, gone to school with a few of them, dated one or two on the rodeo circuit, but the name Wright didn’t ring a single bell.

Spence came back on the line. “You said there was only one woman in the car before it went over the bank, right? No other passengers?”

“Just her,” Mace replied. “Doc Draper’s checking her out now.”

Spence released an audible breath.

“What?” Mace prompted, worried by Spence’s hesitation.

“According to my deputy,” Spence said, “he and the tow truck driver were taking some personal items out of the car when they smelled gas. They hightailed it uphill with whatever they’d managed to gather, and it’s a good thing, because the rig burst into flames and then blew sky-high. Fire department’s on the way, to make sure it doesn’t spread. Thank God for this rain.”

Mace squeezed his eyes shut, opened them again. “Christ,” he breathed, the blaze as vivid in his mind as if he’d witnessed it. He thought how close he’d come to stopping by his favorite bar for a beer after his afternoon meeting with the guy who maintained his website, how he’d have lingered there awhile, shooting the shit with friends and neighbors, maybe playing a round or two of pool. If he hadn’t remembered that Harry, the family’s longtime cook and housekeeper, was serving her legendary sloppy joes for supper that night, if he’d thought there’d be leftovers once his two older brothers, Slater and Drake, ate their fill—

If.

Most likely, the Wright woman—Kelly—would’ve been trapped, unable to push open the driver’s door, with the rig on a slant like that. She would have gone over the cliff along with her car and, if by some miracle she’d survived the rollovers without losing consciousness, burned to death.

He swore under his breath.

“Reckon this makes you a hero,” Spence put in, gravely wry.

“I was there, that’s all,” Mace said. “Right time, right place. You would have done the same thing if you’d been there, and so would just about everybody else around here.”

“Just about everybody,” Spence noted with a very slight emphasis on the middle word.

Mace made no comment. Every town had its lightweights, and Mustang Creek was no exception, but that was beside the point. All that mattered now was that the Wright woman hadn’t gone rolling down that hillside with the car. She’d walked away, still breathing, possibly in need of some patching up, but alive.

A shudder went through Mace, reminding him that his clothes were soaked through, clinging to his hide, clammy and cold. He was hungry, he was tired to the marrow of his bones and he was damn grateful that fate, so often fickle, had dealt Kelly Wright a decent hand.

“Mace?” Spence asked. “You still with me?”

“I’m here,” he replied.

“I’m guessing there isn’t a whole lot more you can do tonight. Might be best if you go on home.”

“Soon as I know Kelly’s all right, I’ll do just that. She’ll probably need a ride to the resort. That’s where she’s staying.”

“Fair enough,” Spence agreed diplomatically. “I’m thinking the lady will be admitted for observation, though, and the kind of tests they’ll want to run can take hours. You really want to cool your heels in the waiting room for that long?”

Mace sighed. “She’s from out of town. Seems like somebody ought to hang around until they decide whether to keep her overnight or turn her loose.”

“Fine,” Spence conceded. “We’ll do what we can on our end.”

Mace found himself nodding, then realized his friend couldn’t see him. “Her name’s Kelly Wright, and the car was a rental, but she couldn’t say which company she used. That’s about all I can tell you, as of now.”

“Not to worry,” Spence said. “Mustang Creek PD works in mysterious ways its wonders to perform. Ask Ms. Wright to call me when she feels up to it, will you? There’ll be some paperwork, of course.”

“I’ll do that,” Mace answered. Goodbyes were exchanged, and the call ended.

Mace was pacing the floor when a young couple hurried through the main doors, looking anxious. The man carried a toddler, bundled in a blanket and whimpering.

Ellie appeared immediately, her smile wide and white and reassuring. She greeted the new arrivals, handed the woman a clipboard and led the trio to an exam room.

When she returned to the reception area, she returned Mace’s cell phone. “Kelly asked me to give you this.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Any news?”

Ellie shook her head. “Not yet,” she said, gently noncommittal. “Want some coffee?”

“No, thanks.” He was hyped up enough, he figured, without a caffeine buzz.

“How’s your night going?” he asked. He wasn’t a talker under normal circumstances, but the waiting was driving him crazy.

“Better than yours, I’d say,” Ellie replied with an understanding smile. By then, she was back at her station behind the reception desk. “So far, business has been pretty slow. Which, of course, is a good thing.”

Mace realized he was fresh out of sparkling conversation. He sat down in an orange plastic chair, opened an outdated copy of Field & Stream, read one paragraph of an article about trout fishing in Montana and gave up.

Another hour passed, during which an elderly woman was brought in with respiratory problems, and the young couple returned with a prescription and their child, now sound asleep, head resting on the man’s shoulder. Mace nodded in greeting, and the man nodded back.

Soon afterward, Sheila Draper came out, spotted Mace and smiled as she approached. She was a good-looking redhead with a figure that did great things for the blue scrubs she was wearing.

“Hey, Doc,” Mace said. Sheila had grown up on a neighboring ranch, and the two families were longtime friends.

“Hey, yourself,” Sheila responded. She carried an electronic tablet but didn’t consult it, and there was a twinkle in her bright green eyes. “You can rest easy, Sir Galahad,” she said. “Kelly isn’t seriously injured, just shaken up and a little dehydrated. I’m admitting her overnight, for observation and the appropriate fluids.”

Something unclenched inside Mace. He heaved a deep sigh. And even as the question took shape in his mind, he wondered why he needed to ask it. He’d done what he could for Kelly, and he knew she was in good hands, had been from the moment he’d brought her in.

He asked, anyway. “Could I see her?”

Sheila shook her head regretfully, touched his arm. “Not tonight, Mace. I gave Kelly a sedative, and she’s on her way upstairs. I’m guessing she’ll be zonked before she gets to her room.” The rest went without saying—Kelly needed sleep, not visitors.

He nodded again, sighed again.

Then he thanked Sheila, said goodbye to Ellie and left for home.

* * *

MACE CARSON DIDN’T remember her. Not quite, anyway.

That was okay for now, Kelly decided, rummy from the sedative she’d been given minutes before. She remembered well enough for both of them.

She closed her eyes against the bright overhead lights and the dizziness as she was wheeled, lying on a gurney, into an elevator, then down a long hallway. She flashed back, momentarily, to another hospital, another night, over a decade before.

The recollection made her want to curl into a fetal ball, but the medication and the IV needle lodged in her arm rendered any such movement impossible. Too much effort.

Another memory flooded her mind, soothed her. Mace had been with her that other time, too. He’d accompanied her to the hospital, holding her hand. He’d told her everything would be all right, that she was safe now, that nobody was going to hurt her. He’d promised to be there when the police came to question her, and he was as good as his word when she was discharged the following morning. He’d driven her to the police station, sat with her while two SVU detectives questioned her about the events of the night before, when, walking to her dorm, she’d been assaulted and nearly raped.

Mace, a student at the same California college, had heard the scuffle, hauled the man off Kelly and restrained him until the police arrived.

How could Mace have forgotten all that? Perhaps he made a habit of saving people. Did it happen so often that one incident blended into the next until it was all a blur?

She giggled at the thought.

Tomorrow, or maybe the next day, she would see Mace again. If he still didn’t recall their first meeting, she’d just have to refresh his memory, though that wasn’t her first priority.

She’d come to Mustang Creek to do business with the man, after all, not to renew their old—and brief—acquaintance. Great Grapes International, the company she worked for, wanted to establish a partnership with Mountain Winery, something they’d done successfully with other vintners.

Big of them, Kelly thought. As far as she could tell, the board members had zero doubt that everything would go their way; their confidence bordered on outright arrogance, in her opinion. She didn’t know much about Mace Carson as a person, after one dramatic encounter and a few brief meetings during her attacker’s trial, but recent online research had filled in a lot of gaps.

Carson wasn’t likely to be swayed by the money GGI was prepared to offer, as the Carsons were among the wealthiest families in Wyoming. Mace’s company appeared to be a labor of love, rather than a source of income; the winery was debt-free, and the net profits went to various charities.

Kelly had explained these things to upper management, of course, or tried to, anyway. And she had gotten exactly nowhere.

Failure wasn’t an option, her boss, Dina, had informed her cheerfully. If GGI had a motto, it would be Rah-rah-rah.

Thinking about it, Kelly sighed. She knew the power of a positive mind-set, especially after years of company-sponsored “you can do this!” seminars, ranging from standard motivational talks and “trust exercises,” like depending on someone to catch her when she fell backward, to trekking barefoot over beds of red-hot coals.

She’d done all those things and, yes, it was true—the experience of walking on burning embers did cast a new light on what was possible.

It was also true, however, that no amount of positivity or fearlessness or persistence was going to sway someone who didn’t want to be swayed. Mace Carson, she was all but certain, fell into this category. He liked his independence far too much...

Kelly was in over her head this time, and she knew it, but she had too much riding on this deal to give up without even trying. She was up for a promotion of life-changing proportions, with some heavy-duty perks, such as profit sharing and stock options, access to company jets, opportunities to work overseas, six-figure bonuses and more than double her present salary.

The equation was a simple one: no deal, no promotion.

Lasso the moon, or crash and burn.

Bruised and scraped, dazed by pain meds and good old-fashioned exhaustion now that the adrenaline rush had subsided, Kelly closed her eyes. Sighed again.

She could worry, or she could sleep.

She chose the latter.

CHAPTER TWO

WHEN KELLY OPENED her eyes again, morning was in full swing, and bright sunshine had replaced yesterday’s rain. She took a few minutes to orient herself—she was in a hospital room in Mustang Creek, Wyoming. There were three other beds, all empty.

She performed a brief mental scan of her body.

A mild headache.

A few aches and pains.

In other words, nothing major.

A nurse’s aide appeared, carrying a breakfast tray and sporting a cheery smile. Her name tag read Millie.

“If I were you,” Millie began, deftly maneuvering the bed table into place and setting down the tray, “I’d go out and buy myself a lottery ticket. Considering what could have happened, you’re a lucky woman.”

Kelly smiled. “Maybe I’ll do that.”

“How do you feel?” Millie asked, lifting a metal lid to reveal a plate of runny scrambled eggs, limp toast and two strips of transparent bacon.

“Much better,” Kelly answered, eyeing her breakfast with a wariness she hoped wasn’t too obvious. Until about five seconds ago, she’d been hungry.

Millie chuckled, evidently the perceptive type. “First we patch people up,” she joked, “and then we confront them with hospital food. Ironic, isn’t it?”

Kelly grinned, picked up a slice of toast and nibbled at the edge. Her headache was already beginning to subside; this woman’s mere presence was a tonic. “I don’t suppose you know when I’ll be discharged?” she ventured.

Millie sighed, though her smile didn’t waver. She removed the plastic lid covering a cup of coffee. “Can’t say,” she replied. “The doctors are making their morning rounds, though, and I’m sure one of them will have an answer.”

With that, she headed for the door, nearly colliding with a tall, dark-haired man in jeans, a long-sleeve white shirt, boots—and a badge. He smiled down at Millie, took off his hat and stepped aside to let her pass before entering the room.

“Ms. Wright?” he asked.

Kelly nodded, set down her coffee cup.

“My name’s Spence Hogan,” the man said, “and I’m the chief of police. Mind if I come in?”

Kelly was only half kidding when she answered. “Not at all. Unless you’re here to arrest me for leaving the scene of an accident, that is.”

His smile was the kind that probably caused a seismic shift every time it flashed across that tanned, rugged face. “You’re in the clear, Ms. Wright,” he said, crossing the room to stand a few feet from her bedside. “I’m here to take a statement, that’s all. And, unfortunately, to tell you that your rental car is a total loss.”

“I figured it would be,” Kelly said, wondering why he’d come to the hospital personally rather than sending a deputy or someone from the office.

Clearly, he’d guessed what she was thinking, because there was a spark of amusement in his eyes. “I came by to look in on a friend who’s recovering from an emergency appendectomy. It made sense to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak, and pay you a visit, too.”

“Oh,” Kelly said.

He took a smartphone from his shirt pocket and tapped an icon. “I just need a few details about what happened,” he told her. His voice, deep and laconic, reminded her of Mace’s, a fact that both jangled and soothed her nerves. His eyes were clear and direct as he met her gaze. “First, though, I have some news. The rental car people have been notified, and they’re sending a replacement from Jackson. Should be here by the end of the day.”

“That’s good.” Kelly hesitated, almost afraid to ask. “My things—my handbag and laptop and suitcases—were any of them recovered?”

“The purse and the laptop came through all right—evidently, they were thrown from the car while it was rolling down the hill, because my deputy found them on the bank.” Spence Hogan paused, winced humorously. “I’m afraid everything else went up in smoke when the rig exploded.”

Kelly gulped. “The car exploded?”

“Yes,” Hogan answered, solemn now. He was probably thinking how easily Kelly herself might have been blown to flaming pieces; she certainly was.

“But it wasn’t burning when Mace—Mr. Carson and I left. And the rain was really coming down hard.”

Hogan raised one shoulder slightly, lowered it again. “Must’ve been some kind of delayed reaction. It happens.”

A shudder ran through Kelly. She felt herself go pale and, for one awful moment, she thought she might throw up.

Concern furrowed the chief’s brow, and he slipped the smartphone back into his pocket. “We’ll talk about the accident later,” he decided. “Do you want me to call a nurse or a doctor?”

Kelly swallowed hard, shook her head, attempted to smile. “I’m okay,” she said.

And she was. Thanks to Mace Carson.

Talk about déjà vu.

She’d come to Mustang Creek to see Mace again—but not for personal reasons; she was on an important mission for GGI, and he was a vintner with a flair for innovation. She was here on business, in other words.

The opportunity to reiterate her gratitude for his help ten years ago was a bonus.

Chief Hogan took a business card from the same pocket housing his phone and laid it on the bedside table. “When you’re feeling better, give me a call.”

Kelly, busy breathing her way through the what-might-have-been scenario splashing across the screen of her mind, promised she’d be in touch. Hogan excused himself and left.

Five minutes later, Dr. Draper, a titian beauty with shadows of fatigue under her eyes, arrived. “Hello, Kelly. Remember me?”

Kelly smiled. “Yes. You were on duty in the ER last night, when I came in.” She paused. “Was that a test?”

Dr. Draper laughed quietly. “It wasn’t, actually, but I would’ve been pretty concerned if you’d said no.” She came to stand beside the bed, took Kelly’s pulse. “How are you feeling today? Any double vision? Pain?”

“No double vision,” Kelly replied, as Dr. Draper put the earpieces of her stethoscope in place and listened to her patient’s chest. “I had a slight headache when I woke up, but it’s gone now.”

Dr. Draper nodded, tugged the stethoscope free of her ears and let it dangle from her neck like a strand of pearls. “Any dizziness?”

“No,” Kelly answered.

“I’m going to release you, then,” the doctor said. “I strongly suggest you see your own physician in a week or so, and obviously, if there are symptoms in the meantime, you need to seek medical assistance right away.”

“Okay,” Kelly agreed. This woman wasn’t much older than she was. What was it about doctors, whatever their age, that made a successful, confident adult feel like a five-year-old?

“Is there someone who can pick you up?” Dr. Draper asked. “I’d rather you didn’t drive for a day or two.” When Kelly didn’t answer, the doctor went on. “Some of the local hotels provide car service, or we could arrange for a cab.”

“That won’t be necessary,” a familiar voice said from the doorway.

Kelly’s heartbeat quickened when she saw Mace standing there, looking fabulous to the infinite power in an ordinary cotton shirt, jeans and boots. His dark blond hair was still damp from a recent shower, and a fashionable stubble accented his strong chin. Like Chief Hogan, he held a Stetson hat in one hand.

Dr. Draper turned toward him. “Mace Carson,” she said wryly. “What a surprise.”

He smiled guilelessly. “Just being neighborly,” he said. “I figured the lady would need a ride to her hotel.”

The doctor looked back at Kelly. “Does that arrangement work for you?” she asked.

Kelly blushed like a teenager. “Yes,” she answered.

Dr. Draper nodded. “All right, then,” she said. “I’ll sign you out, but you’ll need to stop by the business office before you leave.”

Mace saluted the doctor as she approached, and she gave him a shoulder bump as she passed, which made him laugh.

A brief silence fell.

Kelly broke it a minute or so later. “I have to get dressed,” she said, and immediately felt lame for stating the obvious.

“I’ll be at the nurses’ station.” Mace started to turn away, then turned back, a question dancing in his eyes. “You need any help?”

“No,” Kelly said too quickly.

Mace grinned. “I’m sure one of the nurses would be glad to lend a hand.”

“Go away,” Kelly snapped, her cheeks burning again.

The grin broadened. “Give me a shout when you’re ready,” he said.

And then he was gone.

Half an hour later, after dealing with her insurance company online, she was riding in Mace Carson’s truck again, headed for the resort.

Kelly still didn’t have her purse—which contained her phone—or her laptop, and the clothes she’d packed so carefully for the trip had been reduced to the particle level. After a moment’s mourning for her Armani pantsuit, which had set her back a month’s salary, she shifted her focus to what really mattered. She was alive and in one piece.

When Mace spoke, he caught her off guard. “You were Kelly Allbright, not Kelly Wright, when I knew you,” he said without looking her way.

“You remembered,” she said quietly.

“Yeah,” Mace responded. “I didn’t make the connection until I checked my schedule this morning and saw that my assistant had penciled you in—without mentioning it to me. Wanda is part-time, and she tends to be forgetful. Anyway, when I realized we had an appointment, I went online for some background info.”

Kelly smiled, somewhat dreamily. She was okay, she really was, but she was still drifting from last night’s drugs. There’d been a series of tests, she thought, but she couldn’t be sure. “Sorry I missed the meeting,” she said.

“No problem. I’m pretty flexible.”

“Impressive, for a superhero.”

“I’m just a man, Kelly. I did what anybody else would do, ten years ago on campus, and last night.”

Memories of her near-rape, a decade before, circled Kelly like wolves. She’d been walking back to her dorm after a night class when, out of nowhere, she was attacked. She’d screamed and struggled, certain she was going to die. And then, suddenly, Mace was there.

He’d hauled her assailant off her, flung him aside. Called the police while keeping one booted foot on the guy’s throat.

She’d scooted backward, a low, continuous moan shredding her throat.

“It’s over,” Mace had said. “You’re safe now.”

You’re safe now.

“Did I ever thank you?” Kelly asked, as they made the turn onto the road leading to the resort.

“About ten thousand times,” Mace said, not unkindly.

“I wasn’t sure. I was so scared that night.”

“I know,” he told her sadly.

“You disappeared.”

“I graduated,” Mace stated. “Went to Napa to work with my grandfather. He owns a vineyard there.”

She nodded. “Yeah, you told me about your family back then. When you were in LA for the trial.” She paused. “Did you ever wonder what became of me? Afterward, I mean?”

He didn’t reply, merely shrugged.

“I was married for a while,” Kelly told him, aware that her end of the conversation was a bit disjointed. “After I graduated, I mean. It didn’t work out.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” The resort came into view, sprawling and elegant.

“Did you get married?”

“No,” Mace answered.

“Why not?”

“I was busy,” he said.

“I appreciate what you did, Mace. Both times.”

“I know about a hundred guys who would have done the same thing.”

“I don’t,” Kelly told him. “Thank you again.”

“You’re welcome,” he said gravely.

They’d reached the portico in front of the resort. Mace brought the truck to a stop, and an attendant trotted over, smiling.

“Welcome,” he said.

“Thanks,” Kelly responded, strangely dazed.

“Ms. Wright has a reservation,” Mace explained to the young man.

The attendant nodded. “Yes, Mr. Carson,” he said.

“Mr. Carson?” Mace shot back, softening his brisk tone with a grin. “Chill, Jason. I’ve known you since you were in diapers, remember?”

Jason smiled. “I remember,” he confirmed. “But we’re supposed to call everybody either ‘sir’ or ‘ma’am,’ no matter who they are. It’s in the manual.”