Chapter 30
Jane woke in the hospital. That didn’t happen like she thought, either. She always imagined being pulled from somewhere else, a great foggy distance. In reality she snapped instantly alert, one minute unconscious, the next awake and in tune to what was happening around her.
She was hooked to an IV and monitor, and it was daylight. Nothing was in her throat, though it was a bit scratchy, as if she’d been intubated at some point. The IV felt vaguely uncomfortable, but she felt no pain, thanks to whatever was dripping benignly into her veins. She was alone in the room, and she was thirsty. Looks like I’m all caught up, Jane thought. Her most pressing concerns were Blue and Charles, in that order. Was Blue okay, and was Charles in jail? She had the horrible suspicion Charles had somehow managed to weasel away and escape, though she hoped against hope it wasn’t true.
As if thinking of him caused him to appear, Blue entered her room wearing his own hospital gown, though he wasn’t hooked to any monitor or device. “Jane,” he said, hobbling forward. He stopped by her bedside, gingerly leaned in and kissed her on the lips. Jane took the hand that wasn’t hooked to a monitor or IV and used it to draw him close, returning his kiss with as much interest as she could muster, which must have been a lot because eventually he broke it off and rested his head on her uninjured shoulder.
“I guess you’re doing okay,” he gasped.
“How are you?”
“Good. On concussion protocol for a week. Some things are a bit mixed up in my brain, but a bonk on the head will do that. Hopefully with a bit of rest things will clear up.” He sat in the chair beside the bed. “I have some bad news.”
“What?” Jane croaked, steeling herself for the worst.
“They had to do a bit of repair work on your shoulder. Your pitching career is over.”
“Just when I was getting good,” Jane said. “What about Charles?”
“He tried to get away, but the poor dope had a shoulder injury that left a trail and led us right to him. Let’s say he’s in federal custody and will be for a long, long time.” He picked up her hand and pressed it to his cheek. “My poor Janie. I can’t believe you got shot.”
“I can’t believe I shot a man, and you missed it,” she said.
“For the record, that was a new gun. And you’ve now fired it more times than I have, and definitely hit more targets,” he said, and she laughed. He took her hand and held it gently. “Are you too sick and weak to have our long overdue conversation?”
“Yes, but if you don’t talk right now, I’ll hunt you down and beat you with my IV bag,” she threatened. “Start six months ago.”
“First I realized meeting you was the magic cure to getting over Maggie. Next time I saw her after I dropped you off it was like seeing a pal, nothing more, certainly no inappropriate or unrequited crush. I’m happy to say it hasn’t returned in the months since. At six months free, I think I’m officially cured and over her.”
“Congratulations,” Jane said. “Now get to all those other women you dated.”
“Right, that. I met a few dates online and did my usual amount of research. I went into those dates fully armed. With one woman I even looked at her dental records.”
“There’d better be an and here,” Jane said.
“There is. And it was horrible. So incredibly boring. Once you pointed out to me how wrong and invasive it was for me to do that much poking around in people’s private lives, I couldn’t unsee it. I felt creepy and kind of ill and, did I mention, so incredibly bored. There was no mystery, no excitement, no sense of wonder or anticipation. I missed my Jane who is a complete and utter mystery to me, a total question mark.” He pressed her palm to his lips. “Jane, my Jane, I don’t care anymore about your past. I don’t care who you are or where you came from or that you have no virtual footprint, or that your dad is likely some terrifying criminal warlord. I want to be with you, up to and including forever. I love you.”
“Blue, you are so incredibly much wow,” Jane said and groaned. “That was supposed to be poetic and charming.”
“You’re on a lot of heavy duty drugs,” Blue said, his tone sympathetic.
“Yes, but you know it wasn’t the drugs. You know it was the awkwardness that inhabits my life.”
“I do know, and I find it all kinds of adorable,” Blue said.
“I so badly want to kiss you, but I also so badly want a sip of water,” Jane said.
Blue stood painfully to his feet, hobbled to the sink, and brought her a drink of water. “Thank you,” Jane said, dribbling water down her chin in her attempt to drink.
Blue brushed the hair away from her face, and they spent a minute looking at each other in that adoring way that only new love brings, until a shadow fell in the doorway, announcing someone’s presence. Blue turned and saw his boss, rather his boss’s boss, Colonel Caruthers. He dashed to his feet, repressing a groan of pain.
“Colonel, sir,” Blue blurted. He was beyond shocked. The Colonel always dealt with Ridge. Except for when he first sprang him from prison all those years ago, Blue couldn’t remember a time when the man had come specifically to see him. “This is Jane Dunbar, sir.”
“As you were, Blue,” The Colonel replied. Then, noting that Blue continued to stand, albeit wobbly, snapped, “I said sit, son.”
Blue sat.
“As for the young lady, I’m familiar. And it’s Dr . Jane Dunbar.” He went forward and took Jane’s hand. “How’s it going, Princess?”
“Pretty well, Daddy,” Jane returned, and Blue slumped forward onto the bed in an unconscious heap.
Jane sighed. “I was afraid of that.”
The Colonel reached behind her for the remote, pressed a button, and spoke to the nurse’s station. “We’re going to need some smelling salts in room 308.” He set aside the remote and resumed his hold on Jane’s hand. “Tell me quick before he wakes up, do you really like him?”
“Yes,” Jane said. “I do, lots and lots.”
“Good because he’s the best computer guy we’ve got, and it would be a real shame to make him disappear.”
Jane laughed and then sniffled. “Dad, Charles.”
“I know, honey. That was a blow to all of us, but not wholly unexpected. I tried to put a stop to it when he joined that band of mercenaries all those years ago, but I was in the states, and you guys were still in Africa.” He sighed and pushed the hair out of her face, much the same as Blue had just done. “I missed so much because of this blasted job, Jane.”
“Your country needed you,” Jane said.
“So did my girls,” The Colonel replied.
“We did fine, Dad. We always understood.”
The nurses rushed in, looking at Jane askance. She pointed to Blue, still slumped in a heap on her bedcovers. They fled to his side, snapped open a plastic container of salts, and placed it under his nose. He came to immediately, staring around in bewilderment.
“Let’s get you back to your room,” one nurse said.
“Can’t you leave him here please?” Jane said, patting the bed beside her.
“No, he shouldn’t even be…” the nurse who was clearly in charge began, but The Colonel interrupted.
“Leave him here.”
The nurses deposited Blue on the bed and scurried out of the room.
“Doing okay, Blue?” The Colonel asked.
“I don’t know,” Blue said, his wary gaze traveling between Jane and her father. They ignored him and focused on each other, letting Blue’s bruised brain try to have a moment to catch up.
“I like the hair,” The Colonel said, touching Jane’s new Pixie ‘do. “It’s very you. Although the color, hmm.” He cast a half-accusing glance at Blue who shrank back against the bed as if afraid The Colonel might reach out and strike him at any moment.
“And Blue’s a blond,” Jane said. “Who knew?”
“I knew,” The Colonel replied. “Blue and I go back a ways, approximately ten tattoos and several bottles of color ago.”
“Really?” Jane asked, looking between them.
“It’s a story for a later date,” The Colonel said. “In the meantime, we have something to discuss, girly. Is it true you stole a car and drove it to the airport?”
“Yes, sir,” Jane said meekly.
“Did you hotwire it?” The Colonel asked.
Jane shook her head. “Screwdriver in the ignition.”
The Colonel sighed. “And what would have happened if you hadn’t been able to find an old enough model for that to work? Jane, I’ve been telling you for years, you have got to work on the hotwiring.”
“I know, Dad, but it’s not exactly an easy skillset to practice,” Jane said.
“I’ll get you something to practice on.”
“Am I still unconscious?” Blue asked.
“A woman needs to know how to take care of herself, don’t you agree, Blue?” The Colonel asked.
“No worries on Jane’s front, sir. She’s doing all right,” Blue told him.
The Colonel leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Did she really pepper spray you?”
“Sometimes when the light’s dim, I still can’t read small print and my eyes water,” Blue told him, and The Colonel laughed, a rusty, ill used sound that was more alarming than endearing.
“I would pay good money to have seen that,” The Colonel said, wiping his eyes. He checked his watch. “I have a meeting, but I wanted to tell you two things before I go. First, your sister is coming to see you.”
Jane tensed and then winced. “Which one?”
“Both.”
“Oh, Dad, no. Can’t you tell them I’m not up for it?”
“Jane, you girls don’t see each other often enough as it is. You got shot, honey, I think you can tough out one visit with your sisters.”
“Getting shot was easier,” Jane muttered, but The Colonel ignored her.
“Also, your mother wants you to come to dinner on Sunday.”
“Tell Mom I’d be delighted.” Jane paused. “What day is it?”
“Monday. You lost a day,” The Colonel replied. She had come in late Saturday night, had long and tedious reconstructive shoulder surgery on Sunday, and slept until just a short while ago. The Colonel kissed her, stood to go, paused, and turned back. “Blue, we’d like you to come, too.”
“Sure,” Blue stuttered. “Thank you, sir.”
“Hmm,” The Colonel replied, giving him one more penetrating look before turning and walking out the door.
“So you’re dad’s The Colonel,” Blue said when the man was safely away.
Jane sighed. “Yes. We use my mom’s maiden name for safety’s sake. And the lack of a footprint thing, well, you know better than anyone that being on the grid makes me traceable, and we’re all high value targets because of his job.”
“He’s going to make a suit from my skin, isn’t he?” Blue asked.
“Only if we break up.”
“I guess I’m in the clear then,” he said. “Does Ridge know who your dad is?”
“He’s known from the beginning. My dad was the one who suggested me for the assignment,” Jane said.
“So all this time he’s been laughing at me.”
“Probably a lot, but it’s not his fault. I’m sure my dad swore him to secrecy. Most people don’t even know he has kids,” Jane said.
“Huh,” Blue said, shifting to put his arm around her. It was likely he stunk, having been well over twenty four hours since he showered, but he didn’t care. Jane stunk, too. He had seen her sick, shot, bloody, unconscious, asleep, with morning breath, with hospital breath, with makeup, with no makeup, before a makeover, after a makeover, in her element, out of her element, awkwardly bumbling, fluently speaking multiple languages, and so nervous at his touch she ran into a wall. And he liked her in every capacity he’d witnessed. No, he loved her. She was incredibly imperfect, and so was he, and he was deliriously in love with her.
“Also, you’re right,” he continued. “I would not have been able to handle that information in the beginning. I would have run away screaming.”
“And now?” she prompted.
“I’m still screaming, but I’m running toward you.”
“Perfect,” she said. Her IV hand rested on his stomach as she tipped her face up to kiss him. The motion caused pain to shoot through her injured shoulder, but it was worth it. He kissed her in return until two new voices interrupted them.
“Nick’s here,” the first woman said.
“That’s not Nick,” the second woman replied.
“It’s New Nick,” the first woman said.
“New Nick is cute,” the second woman said.
Jane pulled away from Blue, and forced her eyes open. “Hey, guys.”
Two women stood in the doorway. One wore a marine uniform. The other was approximately Jane’s height but fuller figured with a perpetually cheery expression.
“Hey, Janie,” the marine one said. “How’s the wound?”
“Hurts,” Jane replied.
“I baked cookies,” the plumper one said, holding a box aloft.
“Thank you.”
“Are you going to introduce us to New Nick?” the cookie one asked.
“If I have to,” Jane replied. “These are my sisters. Bailey’s the one in uniform, and Poppy is the baker. Guys, this is Blue Bishop.”
“How very alliterative it is to meet you,” Bailey replied. “What happened to Old Nick, the rat fink?”
“He’s still a rat fink,” Jane replied.
“Want me to kill him for you?” Bailey offered.
“Maybe,” Jane said.
“Wait, Old Nick is available?” Poppy said, and Bailey jabbed her in the arm.
“You can’t date Old Nick. Respect the Code.”
“I’m not a soldier,” Poppy said, rubbing the arm Bailey had jabbed.
“The sister code, you little weasel. Don’t make me punch you again,” Bailey threatened.
“Jane doesn’t care if I date Old Nick, do you Janie?” Poppy asked.
“Only on the basis that I think you could do a lot better,” Jane replied.
“What does New Nick do?” Bailey asked, regarding him with eyes so much like her father’s it was spooky.
“Computer stuff,” Blue answered.
“He works for Dad,” Jane added.
“Oh,” Bailey and Poppy drawled, assessing Blue with new regard.
“I didn’t know we were allowed to date people who work for Dad,” Poppy said. “This opens up a whole new world of possibilities. Who else do you know, New Nick?”
“Do not set Hurricane Poppy up with people you want to remain friends with,” Bailey warned, and now it was her turn to dodge Poppy’s blow.
“You guys are making a great first impression, thanks,” Jane said.
“We’ll make an even better one on Sunday,” Bailey promised.
Jane groaned. “No, you guys are going to be there, too?”
“And miss roasting New Nick? Not a chance,” Bailey said.
“Shame about Old Nick, though. We just got him broken in,” Poppy said.
“You mean you just got him broken,” Jane interjected.
“What’s the difference?” Bailey asked. Her watch beeped and, like her father a few minutes ago, she glanced at it with a sigh. “I have a meeting. Take care, kiddo. It was nice to meet you, New Nick. Oh, by the way, Charles ever gets free, I’m going to murder him.”
“She’s not joking. She made a detailed plan in her agenda on the way here,” Poppy added. “See you, New Nick. Bring a friend on Sunday. I’m too desperate to be picky, and I’m an amazing pastry chef.”
“Both true,” Bailey agreed, putting Poppy in a headlock as they turned and headed down the hall.
“And those are my sisters,” Jane said. “You can run away screaming now, if you like. I won’t judge you.”
“How about if we hobble away together to recover for a while instead,” Blue suggested.
“Just you and me?” Jane said hopefully.
“You and me and hot water bottles and prescription-strength ibuprofen.”
“Oh, baby,” Jane said, tipping her face to kiss him again.
Blue started to respond and then pulled away. “You don’t have any more family that’s going to show up and terrify me right now, do you?”
“I have an aunt who can dislocate all of her appendages, but you probably won’t meet her for a while. I’ll save it ‘till Christmas,” Jane promised.
“Something to look forward to then,” he said, reaching for her and finally kissing her without interruption for a good, long time.
Thank you for reading The Mouse and the Maestro.