CHAPTER 5 #3
“Or influence. Or even a charitable donation. Doctors see so much suffering, sometimes they weigh legalities against a contribution that can help heal thousands.”
“And risk their license.”
“It’s their choice, Sarah.” He closed his eyes. “Now go away and let me and Monty sleep. I’m tired of defending myself.”
“In a minute.” He heard the sound of pouring water and opened his eyes to see Sarah setting down the carafe. She handed him two more Tylenol. “You can take these now. I don’t want you restless and disturbing—”
“Monty,” he finished for her. He swallowed the pills and closed his eyes again. “I’ll try not to thrash around and bother your dog.”
“Monty wouldn’t care. It’s his nature to want to comfort.” She tucked the blanket around him with a gentleness that belied the briskness of her tone. “But I care for him. Go to sleep.”
He was already half asleep as he heard her move away from him. It wasn’t only Monty’s nature to want to comfort. In spite of Sarah’s resentment toward him, she found it impossible not to try to ease his pain and equally impossible to admit to that softness.
A truly remarkable woman . . .
“Bring him into the living room. It’s already set up as an operating room.” A plump, fortyish woman in a pin-striped suit was standing outside the house, waiting, when the ambulance doors opened and Logan was lifted to the ground. “How are you doing, John?”
“Okay.”
“You don’t look okay. You’re pale as a tombstone. This was incredibly stupid of you.” She walked beside his stretcher. “And you’ve caused me a great deal of trouble. Do you know how difficult it is to arrange this kind of thing with any kind of confidentiality?”
“Sorry.” He looked back over his shoulder at Sarah. “This is my assistant, Margaret Wilson. Ask her for anything you need.”
“I’ll be fine. Stop worrying about me.”
To her surprise, he reached out his hand to her. She took a step closer to the stretcher and enfolded his hand in hers.
His grasp tightened as he looked up at her. “Stay,” he whispered. “Stay, Sarah.”
“I’m not going anywhere right away.”
“I’ll take that as a promise.” He glanced at his assistant. “Take care of her, Margaret. She needs to—”
“Shut up,” Margaret said. “I’ll take care of everything. You just let Dr. Dowden take care of this stupidity you’ve gotten yourself into before you lose that leg.”
He released Sarah’s hand. “Yes, ma’am.”
Margaret turned back to Sarah as Logan was whisked into the living room. “They’re going to operate at once. How bad is he?”
“The bullet didn’t shatter the bone, but it tore through some muscle. Infection is always the problem. He’d be better off in a hospital.”
Margaret shook her head. “He won’t do it. Where’s your dog? I heard he was shot too.”
“Still in the ambulance. He’s okay. Just a little sore.
He hasn’t wanted to leave Logan since he was hurt, so we rode here with him.
Bassett is being driven here by the pilot and the security guard you arranged to meet the plane.
” She turned, lifted Monty out of the ambulance, and carried him into the house.
“We’ll stay until the operation is over. ”
Margaret lifted her brows. “Because Monty’s worried?”
“I’m not so hard that I can’t feel compassion for someone in pain. Even Logan.” She carried Monty through to the kitchen. “Will you get down a bowl? I need to give Monty water.”
“Sit down. I’ll do it.” Margaret went to a cabinet, got a bowl, and filled it with water.
Sarah took the bowl and pushed the water toward Monty. When he started to drink, she straightened and asked, “Is this Dowden a good doctor?”
Margaret nodded. “You don’t know me or I’d be insulted that you’d think I’d put John in some quack’s hands.” She looked down at Monty. “How about him? Does he need a vet?”
Sarah shook her head. “I’m used to taking care of him unless it’s something serious. He’s fine. He could walk, but that shoulder is sore. I want him to rest it. He’ll be back to normal in a day or so.”
“So you’re lugging him around like a baby.” Margaret grinned. “A seventy-pound baby at that.”
“No problem. I’m strong. In my job I have to be.”
“I know. I did the research on you.” She sat down across from Sarah. “You have a perfect right to be pissed at me, but I’m still going to tell you that I admire what you and Monty have done.”
“Why should I be angry with you? It’s Logan who pulls the strings.”
“That’s very fair.” Margaret’s gaze searched her face. “But you’re not as angry with John as I thought you’d be. Why not?”
Because he’d kept his word. Because though she disapproved of his methods, she couldn’t fault his motives. Because she’d grown to know him in that jungle, his strength and his determination, even a little of his past. It was difficult hating anyone but a total ass once you understood them.
“It’s over.” She rose to her feet. “It’s a waste of energy being angry. Will you keep an eye on Monty? I want to be at the door to meet Bassett. This is pretty difficult for him. He thought he was going home.”
“Sure.” Margaret reached down and patted Monty. “I love dogs and he’s a sweetheart.”
Bassett arrived at the front door five minutes later.
He smiled with relief as soon as he saw Sarah walking toward him. “Am I glad to see a friendly face. When I went through those electric gates, I felt as if I was at Alcatraz.”
“So did I the first time I came here. And then there were only two security guards, not the four I saw when I drove through the gates.”
“You’ve been here before?”
“Several months ago.”
He nodded. “I should have known you and Logan were old friends. The intimacy is pretty obvious.”
Intimacy? A ripple of shock went through her. “Why do you say that?”
“As I said, it’s fairly obvious watching you together. You saved his life, and you kept an eagle eye on him all during the trip, though I could see you were trying to be offhand about it. Logan’s not a man who likes being coddled, is he?”
“I wouldn’t know. I don’t coddle.”
He held up his hands. “Sorry. Did I make a mistake?”
“Yes. Logan and I aren’t old friends. I didn’t save his life.
I just gave him a boost into that helicopter so we could take off.
And I did a job for a friend of his and then this one for him.
That’s the extent of our ‘intimacy.’ ” She turned and moved toward the stairs.
“You’re probably tired. I’ll show you to a room. ”
“You’re upset. I didn’t mean—”