Safe from Harm (Protect & Serve #2)(11)
Even before the nurse had finished speaking, Aunt Charlotte was pushing into the room and enveloping Elle in her motherly embrace. “Oh, my sweet girl,” Charlotte murmured into Elle’s hair. “When I heard what’d happened at the courthouse…”
Elle managed to swallow the bile that burned her throat and sniff back her tears before being released from her aunt’s embrace. “I’m okay,” she assured her, not quite sure if her words were true. “I’ll be fine.”
Charlotte put her at arms’ length and searched her face, determined to do her own assessment. She must’ve been satisfied with what she saw because she gave Elle a curt nod and turned to the nurse. “Is she free to go home?”
The nurse handed Charlotte a handful of papers that Elle had signed and vaguely understood to be her discharge papers and instructions for wound care. “As far as we’re concerned, but I believe Sheriff Dawson wants to speak with her.”
Charlotte frowned. “Mac? Where is he?”
“Waiting for his son to get out of surgery,” the nurse explained.
Elle slid off of the bed. “Let’s go.”
“Mac can wait,” Charlotte said, her irritation evident.
Elle didn’t care what kind of tension might be brewing between Charlotte and her old friend and one-time high school sweetheart, Mac Dawson. That could wait. All she cared about was getting an update on Gabe.
She turned to the nurse. “Show me where they’re waiting.”
When Elle arrived in the family waiting room with her aunt reluctantly in tow, she wasn’t surprised at all to see the entire Dawson family there. Tom paced the room, his normally unflappable calm clearly overridden by concern for his brother. Their younger brothers, Joe and Kyle, sat in the row of chairs, their respective girlfriends gripping their hands, offering the men their love and support.
Their venerable patriarch, Sheriff Mac Dawson, stood at the window, arms crossed over his chest, his back to all of them. Mac had a gruff, severe demeanor even on a good day, but the scowl on his face was fierce when he glanced over his shoulder to see who had entered.
“How’s Gabe?” Elle asked, her voice tight with apprehension.
“They removed the bullet from his leg,” Tom told her. “Luckily, Monroe didn’t hit an artery or the bone.”
Elle closed her eyes for a moment and breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Thank God.”
“How are you?” Joe asked, gesturing toward her head.
She forced a grin. “I’ll have a scar, but nothing—”
Elle’s words died on her lips as all three Dawson brothers suddenly stiffened, on alert, their expressions deadly. The hair on the back of her neck rose in warning, and she spun around to see a tall, gangly man with a tanned face lined with creases that told the story of his many years working in the sun. Unfortunately, she knew him all too well.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Tom demanded, his hands fisted at his sides.
Jeb Monroe held out his hands in a placating gesture. “Just came to identify my boy’s body,” he replied. “And I heard what had happened to one of yours.”
“Like you had nothing to do with it,” Joe snapped.
Jeb nodded. “I figured you’d assume that, given our…history. I didn’t know what Mark had planned. But I’m sure the idea of his brother being locked away by your government was more than he could bear.”
Elle couldn’t suppress the little grunt of disgust that slipped out, drawing Jeb’s attention to her. But she didn’t look away from his offended gaze. The son of a bitch had everything to do with what had occurred that day, she was sure of it. He’d been preaching his hatred for years. And he’d filled the heads of his sons and other family members and acquaintances with the same vitriol.
“The bloodshed today is on your hands,” Elle hissed. “You might not have stood on the steps and pulled the trigger, but it’s all on you.”
Jeb’s eyes flashed with anger. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand, Ms. McCoy. You are the very tool—”
“I think it’d be best if you left, Jeb,” a deep, rumbling voice said, cutting through Monroe’s words. Everyone turned their attention to the sheriff, who still stared out the window. Without turning, he continued, “My boys have showed a great deal of restraint since you entered the room, but I’m afraid I lack their self-control. And if you don’t turn around and walk out of this room right now, I will be forced to disrespect your grief by explaining to you none too politely exactly what I think about what happened today.”
Jeb’s eyes narrowed at the sheriff’s back. “Well, I expect we’ve both got a few things to say, Mac. We never have finished the conversation we started all those years back. But as I see I’m not welcome here, I guess I’ll just save what’s on my mind for a later time.”
Mac’s voice was little more than a growl when he replied, “You do that.”
As soon as Monroe had gone, Tom shook his head, looking like he wanted to spit acid. “That son of a bitch. He’s even crazier now than he’s always been.”
“What the hell was he talking about when he said you’d never finished a conversation years back?” Joe asked. “What conversation?”
Mac cast his steely gaze around the room, lighting on Charlotte and Elle for a long moment, as if weighing the prudence of talking openly in front of them. He finally turned his attention to his son. “The Monroe family’s farmland used to be much more extensive, but about ten years ago, Jeb’s father got into some financial trouble after several years of bad crops. He defaulted on loans and owed hundreds of thousands of dollars to the IRS. In order to pay off some of his debts, he was forced to sell some of his best land to developers. A few weeks later, he suffered a massive heart attack while working in the fields and died before paramedics could reach him.”