Protector
“I guess I could stand it for a little while,” he said finally.
Coltrain beamed. “Good man. I’m proud of you for putting aside your prejudices.”
“They aren’t put away. They’re just suppressed.”
The other man shrugged.
“When can I leave?” Hayes asked.
“If you’re good, and you continue to improve, maybe Friday.”
“Friday.” Hayes brightened a little. “Okay. I’ll be good.”
* * *
He was. Sort of. He complained for the rest of the week about being awakened to have a bath, because it wasn’t a real bath. He complained because the television set in his room didn’t work properly and he couldn’t get the History Channel and the International History Channel, which appealed to the military historian in him. He didn’t like the cartoon channel because it didn’t carry the cartoon movies he was partial to. He complained about having gelatin with every meal and the tiniest cup of ice cream he’d ever seen in his life for dessert.
“I hate hospital food,” he complained to Coltrain.
“We’re getting in a French chef next week,” the doctor said wryly.
“Right, and I’m going to be named King of England the following one.”
Coltrain sighed. He looked at the chart. “Well, the way you’re improving, I plan to release you in the morning. Minette’s coming to get you, bring you back to her place and then go on her way to the office.”
His heart soared. “I can get out?”
Coltrain nodded. “You can get out. And Minette and her great-aunt are wonderful cooks. You won’t have cause for complaint over there.”
Hayes hesitated and avoided the doctor’s eyes. “I guess it was a kindness on Minette’s part to have me stay with her. Especially knowing how I feel about her.”
Coltrain moved a little closer to the bed. “Hayes, she never had anything to do with Bobby, except that an older girl at her school was friendly with her and dated Bobby. But she wasn’t in their circle of friends, you see? Besides that, she’s one of the few people I know who never even tried marijuana. She has nothing to do with drugs.”
“Her family...” Hayes began hotly.
Coltrain held up a hand. “We’ve never spoken of that, and we shouldn’t, even now. Minette doesn’t know. You promised your father that you’d never tell her. You have to keep that promise.”
Hayes took a steadying breath. “It’s hard.”
“Life is hard. Get used to it,” Coltrain told him.
“I’m doing that. This is my third gunshot wound,” Hayes pointed out.
Coltrain cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. “You know, that’s either damned bad luck or a death wish on your part.”
“I don’t have a death wish!”
“You walk headfirst into dangerous situations, without any thought of letting your men help.”
“They all have families. Young families.”
“Zack doesn’t. But if it worries you, hire some more single deputies,” Coltrain said curtly. “Some men with guts and independent thinking who know the ropes and can calculate the risk.”
“Chance would be a fine thing,” he huffed. “The last deputy I hired was from up in San Antonio. He commutes. We don’t have a big employment pool here. Most of the young men move to the city to find work, and law enforcement is notoriously low-paying, considering where we are. If it was my only source of income, I’d be hard-pressed to pay the bills, even on my salary.”
“I know all that.”
“The family men needed jobs desperately,” he added quietly. “This economy is the worst I’ve ever experienced in my life.”
“Tell me about it. Even physicians are feeling the bite. And it’s bad for our patients, many of whom won’t come in for early treatment because they don’t have insurance to pay for it. So they wait until conditions are life-threatening. It breaks my heart.”
“Too true.” Hayes leaned back on the pillows. “Thanks for letting me out.”
Coltrain shrugged. “What are friends for?” He looked at the chart. “I’m giving you prescriptions to carry with you, and I’ve made an appointment with the physical therapist who’s in a group that practices here. You’ll need to go three times a week. Don’t argue,” he said when Hayes started to protest. “If you want to ever be able to use that arm again, you’ll do what I say.”
Hayes glared at him. After a minute he sighed. “All right.”
“It’s not so bad. You’ll learn how to exercise the arm, and they’ll do heat treatments. Those feel good.”
Hayes shrugged, wincing at the brief pain.
“Isn’t that drip working?” Coltrain put down the clipboard and fiddled with the drip. “It’s clogged.” He called a nurse and indicated the drip. She grimaced and quickly fixed it.
“Sorry, Doctor,” she said quietly. “I should have checked it earlier. It’s just, we’re so busy and there are so few of us...”
“Budget cuts,” Coltrain nodded, sighing. “Just be more careful,” he said gently.
She smiled faintly. “Yes, sir.”
She left and Coltrain shook his head. “We have our own staffing problems, as you can see. I’ll have that drip removed later and we’ll give you a patch for the pain meds.”
“Modern technology,” Carson chuckled.
“Yes. Some of the new stuff is amazing. I spend an hour on the internet every once in a while researching the new techniques they’re experimenting with. I wish I was twenty years younger, so that I could be learning this stuff at medical school. What a future physicians can look forward to now!”
“I’ve read about some of it. You’re right. It is amazing.” He was feeling suddenly sleepy.
“Get some rest,” Coltrain said. “We’ll talk again tomorrow.”
Hayes nodded. “Thanks, Copper,” he said, using Coltrain’s nickname.
“My pleasure.”
Seconds later, he was asleep.
* * *
The next morning, everything was suddenly bustling. The nurses got him bathed, if you could call a tub bath bathed, and ready to check out by eleven o’clock.
Coltrain came by with the prescriptions and releases. “Now if you have any trouble, any trouble at all, you call me. I don’t care what time it is. Any redness, inflammation, that sort of thing.”
Hayes nodded. “Red streaks running up my arm...” he teased.
Coltrain made a face. “Gangrene isn’t likely.”
“Well, you never know,” Hayes chuckled.
“I’m glad to see you feeling better.”
“Thanks for helping to get me that way.”
“That’s my job,” Coltrain replied with a smile. He glanced toward the door. “Come on in,” he said.
Minette Raynor came into the room. She was tall and willowy, with a curtain of pale gold hair that fell almost to her waist in back, neatly combed and clean. Her eyes were almost black and she had freckles just across the bridge of her nose. Hayes recalled that her mother had been redheaded. Perhaps the freckles were inherited. She had pert little breasts and long, elegant fingers. Didn’t she play piano at church? He couldn’t remember. He hadn’t been in a church in a very long time.
“I’m here to drive you home,” Minette told Hayes quietly. She didn’t smile.
Hayes nodded and looked uncomfortable.
“We’ll get him dressed and a nurse will bring him down to the front door in a wheelchair.”
“I can walk,” Hayes snapped.
“It’s hospital policy,” Coltrain shot back. “You’ll do it.”
Hayes glowered at him, but he didn’t speak.
Minette didn’t speak, either, but she was thinking about the next couple of weeks with pure anguish. She’d felt sorry for Hayes. He had nobody, really, not even cousins who would have taken care of him. There was MacCreedy, but that would be a total disaster. His sweet Mrs. Mallard, who did his housework three days a week, was out of town because her sister was ill. So Minette had offered him room and board until he was healed up.
She was having second thoughts. He looked at her with angry dark eyes that wished her anywhere but here.
“I’ll just wait outside,” Minette said after a minute, one hand on her purse.
“He won’t be long,” Coltrain promised.
She left and went down to the waiting room.
“This is a bad idea,” Hayes gritted as he started to get out of bed and had to hesitate because his head was swimming.
“Don’t fall.” Coltrain helped him up. “You can stay another day or two...”
“I’m fine,” Hayes muttered. “Just fine.”
Coltrain sighed. “All right. If you’re sure.”
Hayes wasn’t sure, but he wanted out of the hospital. Even Minette Raynor’s company was preferable to another day of gelatin and forced baths.
He got into the clothes he’d been wearing when he was shot, grimacing at the blood on the shoulder of his shirt.
“I should have had somebody get fresh clothing for you. Zack Tallman would have brought it over if we’d asked,” Coltrain said apologetically.
“It’s no big deal. I’ll ask Zack to get them for me,” Hayes said, hesitating. “I guess Minette’s afraid of reptiles, too?”
“I’ve never asked,” Coltrain replied.
Hayes sighed. “He’s like a lizardly cow,” he said irritably. “Everybody’s scared of him because of the way he looks, but he’s a vegetarian. He wouldn’t eat meat.”
“He looks scary,” Coltrain reminded him.
“I suppose so. Me and my dinosaur.” That tickled Hayes, and he laughed. “Right. Me and my dinosaur.”
* * *
Once he was dressed, a nurse came in with a wheelchair. Hayes got into it with rare docility and she put his few possessions in his lap, explaining the prescriptions and the care instruction sheets she handed him on the way out the door.
“Don’t forget, physical therapy on Monday, Wednesday and Friday,” she added. “It’s very important.”
“Important.” Hayes nodded. He was already plotting ways to get out of it. But he didn’t tell her that.
* * *
Minette was waiting at the door with her big SUV. It was black with lots of chrome and the wood on the dash was a bright yellow. The seats were tan. It had a CD player and an iPod attachment and automatic everything. There was an entertainment system built in so that the kids could watch DVDs in the backseat. In fact, it was very much like Hayes’s personal car, a new Lincoln. He drove a big pickup truck to work. The Lincoln was for his rare nights out in San Antonio at the opera or the ballet. He’d been missing those because of work pressure. Maybe he’d get to see The Nutcracker next month, at least. It was almost Thanksgiving already.
He noticed the signature trademark on the steering wheel and chuckled. The SUV was a Lincoln. No wonder the dash instruments looked so familiar.
He was strapped in, grimacing because the seat belt hurt.
“Sorry,” Minette said gently, fumbling with the belt to make it less confining.
“It’s all right,” Hayes said through his teeth.
She closed the door, got in under the wheel and pulled out of the hospital parking lot. Hayes was tense at first. He didn’t like being a passenger. But Minette was a good driver. She got him home quickly to the big beautiful white Victorian house that had belonged to her family for three generations. It was surrounded by fenced pastures and a horse grazed, a palomino, all by itself.
“You’ve got a palomino,” he mused. “I have several of my own.”
“Yes, I know.” She flushed a little. She’d seen his and loved the breed. “But, actually, I have six of them. That’s Archibald.”
His pale, thick eyebrows rose. “Archibald?”
She flushed a little. “It’s a long story.”
“I can’t wait to hear it.”
Chapter 2
In another pasture, Hayes noted milling cattle, some of which were black-baldies, a cross between Black Angus and Herefords. Most mixed-breed cattle were popular in beef herds. The Raynor place was a ranch.
Along with the ranch, when her stepmother and stepfather died just a few months apart, she inherited two siblings, Julie and Shane. They weren’t actually related to her, but they were hers as surely as if they’d been blood siblings. She loved them dearly.
The children were school-age now. Julie was in kindergarten and Shane was in grammar school. Minette seemed to take that responsibility very seriously. No one ever heard her complain about the kids being a burden. Of course, they also kept her single, Hayes mused. Most men didn’t want a ready-made family to support.
Minette’s great-aunt, Sarah, a tiny little woman with white hair whom Minette always addressed as “Aunt” instead of “Great-Aunt,” was waiting on the front porch. She rushed down the steps as Hayes climbed laboriously out of the SUV.
“Here, Hayes, you lean on me,” she said.
Hayes chuckled. “Sarah, you’re too little to support a man my size. But thanks.”
Minette smiled and hugged her aunt. “He’s right. He needs a little more help than you can give.” She got under Hayes’s arm and put her arm around his back. Her hand twitched when she felt a cavity under his shirt.
“It’s another wound,” he said quietly, feeling her consternation. “I’m pockmarked with them. That one was from a shotgun blast a few years back. I didn’t duck fast enough.”
“You’re a walking advertisement for the perils of law enforcement,” she muttered.
He was trying not to notice how nice it felt to have her close to him. They’d been adversaries for years. He’d blamed her for Bobby’s death. He still blamed her family for that, but she didn’t know who she really was. She had illusions, and he was hesitant to shatter them. After all, she’d given him a home when nobody else offered.
“Thanks,” he said stiffly as they went up the steps and into the roomy, high-ceilinged house.
She paused and looked up at him. She was trying not to let him see the effect his nearness had on her. She’d always adored Hayes Carson, who hated her for reasons that were incomprehensible to her.
“For what?” she stammered.
He searched her black eyes far longer than he meant to. He wondered if she ever questioned the color of those eyes. Her mother had had blue eyes. But he wasn’t going to ask.
“For letting me stay here,” he said.
“You’re welcome.” She hesitated. “I’m afraid all the bedrooms are upstairs...”
“I don’t mind.”
She sighed. “Okay.”
Sarah came bustling in behind them and closed the front door. “I changed the bed in the guest room and turned on the heat,” she told Carson. “It’s not the warmest room in the house, I’m afraid,” she added apologetically.
“Not to worry. I like a cool bedroom.”
“We need to get some fresh clothing for you,” Minette said, appalled by the gunshot wound in the fabric of the shirt he was wearing, and the blood on it.
“I’ll call Zack and have him bring some over,” he said, naming his chief deputy. “He’s been feeding Andy and Rex for me.”
“Okay.”
She helped him into the guest bedroom. It was decorated in shades of blue, brown and beige. The walls were an eggshell-blue, the coverlet was quilted and included browns and blues. The carpet was a soft beige. The curtains matched the coverlet. The windows, two of them, overlooked the pasture where the palomino was grazing.
“This is very nice,” Hayes remarked.
“I’m glad you like it,” Minette said gently. “You should call Zack.”
He nodded. “I’ll do that right now.” He eased onto the coverlet and laid back on the pillow, shivering a little from the exertion and the pain and the weakness that was still making him uncomfortable. “That feels so good.”
Minette hovered. He was pale and he looked terrible. “Can we get you anything?”
He looked at her hopefully. “Coffee?”
She laughed. “They wouldn’t give it to you in the hospital, I gather.”
“They did give me a little hot brown water this morning. They called it coffee,” he scoffed.
“I make very good coffee,” she said. “I have a machine that uses pods, and I get the latte pods from Germany. It’s almost sinfully good.”
He laughed. “Sounds great.”
“I’ll make you a cup before I leave.” She checked her watch and grimaced. “I need to call and let Bill know I’m going to be later than I expected. It’s okay,” she added when Hayes looked guilty, “he can handle the office. We go to press on Tuesdays, but today is hectic, because the weekend is coming up.”
“I see.”
“I won’t be a minute.”
She went back downstairs, with Sarah trailing her. Hayes dug his cell phone out of his pocket and called Zack.
“Hey,” he said. “I escaped.”
Zack chuckled. “Way to go, boss. Are you at home?”
“I wish. Coltrain won’t let me live by myself. I’m staying with...Minette and her family,” he said, almost choking the words out.
“Well!”
Hayes shifted uncomfortably. The stress of riding in the confinement of the seat belt was giving him some problems with his injured chest and shoulder. “I need some fresh clothes. I had to come here in the shirt with the bullet hole.”
“Just tell me what you need. I’ll bring it over.”
Hayes gave him quite a list, including pajamas and robe and slippers. He noticed that his room had not only a television, but a Blu-ray player. “And bring my new movies over,” he added. “I’ll watch them while I’m bedridden.”
“Where are they?”
“On the shelf next to the DVD player.”
“Okay.”
“Who shot me?” he added curtly.
“We’re working on that,” Zack assured him. “We have a shell casing and a cigarette butt. We think it may be tied to those recent arrests we made.”
“The new Mexican drug cartel mules. Their bosses are fighting a turf war across the border in Cotillo. Its mayor owes his soul to Pedro Mendez, who took over the operation that used to belong to the Fuentes brothers bunch,” Hayes added quietly.
“Yes, Mendez is the one his enemies call El Ladrón, the thief,” Zack agreed.
“Mendez has a bitter enemy in El Jefe, Diego Sanchez, who has an even bigger drug cartel. Sanchez wants the Cotillo stronghold for himself. It’s the easiest path to Texas, through mountains where a sidewinder could get lost.” Hayes sighed. “Two of the most evil men on the planet. God knows how many lives they’ve snuffed out.” He didn’t add that his own brother was one of those. He’d never shared what he knew with another living soul. Only Coltrain knew, but he had the information from Hayes’s late father, not Hayes.
“Hey, at least El Jefe takes care of his people, and he draws the line at killing women and children,” Zack reminded him.
“Drugs kill women and children.”
“That’s true, I guess,” Zack said. “I meant, he didn’t carry out vendettas against them. But even Manuel Lopez who used to own the drug trade in these parts never hurt children. God knows, he killed enough grown-ups to make up for it before Micah Steele took him out. Not that I know anything about that. Honest. Cross my heart.”
Hayes just smiled. “It’s an open secret locally, no worries. Maybe El Jefe does have a saving grace or two, but I’d gun him down in a heartbeat if I wasn’t sworn to uphold the law.”
Zack felt the undercurrents in Hayes’s voice, so he didn’t ask questions. His boss was closemouthed about some things.
“I imagine one of our drug-distribution czars ordered the hit on me. They don’t like local law enforcement interfering with the transport of their product, and they make a public statement with assassinations. But can we prove they tried to kill me?”
Zack chuckled. “The mule who threatened you is in custody in our county detention center. So isn’t it a good thing that we keep surveillance devices there?” he mused. “He made a phone call from the facility. We got it on tape, and traced the number. Sadly, it was a throwaway phone. Or that’s what we think. The number is no longer in service.”
“Damn.”
“Not to worry, I’ve got Yancy on it. He’ll go through every scrap of paper, every cigarette butt, every blade of grass on your property to dig the shooter out. Never saw a guy with such an eye for detail.”
“Me, neither,” Hayes agreed. “He’s good.” Hayes sighed. “I wish we had the bullet. It might give us an even better lead. But Coltrain wouldn’t take it out.”
“I’ve seen lawmen get court orders for bullets to be removed for evidence,” Zack replied.
“So have I, but I don’t know anybody who’s ever forced Coltrain to do anything he didn’t want to do. Besides that, he said it was a greater risk to take it out than leave it in.” He frowned. “Pity they can’t do an invasive scan on me and check out the bullet.”
“There’s a thought.”
Hayes moved and winced, because it hurt. He drew in a long breath. The new antibiotic seemed to be working already. Maybe it was wishful thinking. It still hurt to breathe, but he had to get up and move around, to prevent the development of a bad bronchitis, or even pneumonia.
“Anyway, we’re working on your case, along with the other thirty that are current,” Zack added drily. “Of course, you’re the only shooting victim so far.”
“Good enough. If I could get the county commission to listen to me, I’d give you all raises.”
“We know that, boss. None of us got into law enforcement because of the money.”
Hayes chuckled. “Thanks, Zack.”
“I’ll be over with the clothes in about an hour. That okay?”
“That’s fine.”
When he hung up, Minette brought him a big mug of freshly brewed coffee. She handed it to him gently.
“Taste that,” she said with a grin.
He did. He rolled his eyes and sighed. “Oh, my gosh,” he groaned. “I’ve never tasted anything so sweet!”
“Told you so.” She checked her watch. “I have to go. Is there anything special you’d like for supper?”
He hesitated.
“Come on. We don’t live on a budget here. Not yet, anyway,” she chuckled.
“Cube steak with onions, mashed potatoes, green beans.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“I’m a meat and potatoes man,” he confided. “Any variation is a happy one.”
“I can handle that. Dessert?”
He swallowed. “Anything but gelatin.”
She burst out laughing. “Okay. I’ll get Aunt Sarah to make one of her chocolate pound cakes.”
“My favorite kind.”
She smiled. “Mine, too. Well, gotta go.”
“Minette.”
She stopped at the door and turned. Hearing her name in Hayes’s deep, smooth voice made her toes tingle and she had to hide it. “Yes?”
“Thanks.”
He looked very somber. She just nodded and left as quickly as she could. Maybe, she thought hopefully, maybe she could change Hayes’s mind about her after all. She was going to work on that, hard.
* * *
Zack Tallman was lean, tall, olive-skinned and black-eyed. He had Spanish blood, but he never spoke about his ancestry. He was thirty years old, and one of the best deputies Hayes had ever hired.
He came into the bedroom carrying a huge suitcase. He put it down on a straight chair by Hayes’s bed. “I think that’s everything you asked for.” He opened it.
With some difficulty, Hayes got out of bed and looked into the suitcase. “Yep,” he said, smiling as he pulled out the videos. “That’s everything.”
“You and your cartoon movies,” Zack sighed.
“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with cartoons,” Hayes said defensively. He pulled out pajamas and underwear and a robe and slippers. “I want a shower, but I have trouble standing. You feel like helping me?”
“No problem, boss,” Zack chuckled. “You’d do the same for me.”
“In a heartbeat,” he replied. He managed a smile. “Thanks. I feel dingy.”
“No doubt.”
* * *
Zack helped him into the shower and stood outside the cubicle while Hayes managed to bathe himself and even shampoo his hair, one-handed of course. Minette had even thought of toiletries to put in the bathroom, because the brands were masculine. There was a razor on the sink, and when he was dried and dressed, with a little help from Zack, he even managed to shave.
“I think I’ll live,” he told the other man as he sank onto the bed under the covers. “Thanks a million, Zack.”
“You’re welcome. Need anything else?”
“Yes. Get out there with Yancy and find the guy who shot me,” Hayes replied.
Zack saluted. “On my way.”