WHEN I SEE YOUR FACE Page 3

  "You didn't see anyone driving off when you arrived?"

  "No."

  "You didn't notice any fresh tire tracks in the snow where someone might have just driven off?"

  "No, sorry. Clues to a crime weren't on my mind at the moment. I was thinking of home and bed. I didn't notice anything until I walked in the store and saw three bodies lying on the floor."

  "I told the sheriff there wasn't anyone else. The perp had to be the other man in the store." She sighed and raised a hand to her bandaged temple. "No one believes me."

  Rory sensed her frustration. Lacking evidence, since the store owner didn't remember anything at all, the sheriff had let the other man go when he was released from the hospital with only a slight flesh wound from the shooting. Without sight, Shannon couldn't identify the man, even if he was the guilty party.

  Eyeing the thick bandages, Rory considered her future. Being blinded in the line of duty was a hell of a way to end a police career. He wondered what she would do now.

  "Take me back to my room, please," she said suddenly, standing, her hands trembling as she reached out to him.

  He wondered guiltily if she had somehow read his thoughts concerning her future. He took her arm and led her back the way they had come. Her cousin Kate was waiting for them. Seeing her reminded him of another reason for his visit. He removed an ATM card from his jacket pocket and handed it to Kate, along with a pair of glasses.

  "The card was on the floor. I found the glasses in her hand," he explained.

  Kate gave him a hug for saving her "second favorite" cousin. Her smile was conspiratorial.

  "Hey, I thought I was the favorite and Megan was second," Shannon protested.

  The lighthearted tone surprised him. Studying the lady cop and her smile, which looked rather comical, coming as it did from a head swathed with bandages, Rory felt that odd pang in his chest again. She was scrappy, this one.

  Glancing at his watch, he saw it was time for him to report back to the office. "Duty calls," he told the women. "Good to see you again, Kate. Take care, lady cop."

  He smiled for Kate and looked Shannon over once more, finding it hard to reconcile the confident, buoyant officer who'd held the world in her hands with the woman whose hands had trembled, whose steps had been hesitant, as he led her along the corridor. She'd changed yet again when she'd realized Kate was in the room, becoming cheerful and teasing. Putting on a show for her cousin.

  He mentally cursed. Life, in case anyone hadn't noticed, could be hell.

  Shannon sensed Rory's concern and recoiled. She wouldn't accept pity from anyone. Holding on to the smile she'd assumed for Kate, she thanked him again for the plant and for stopping by.

  After he'd left, she exhaled a relieved breath. Being sociable, especially with Rory, wasn't her thing at the moment. Besides, she must look like a leftover from a Saturday-night brawl.

  The irony of being concerned about her looks struck her as she climbed into bed. As if she had nothing else to worry about except combing her hair and putting on lipstick.

  After handing Kate the robe and letting the fleecy slippers fall to the floor, she stretched out on the fresh sheets. She was as tired as a pilgrim returning home from a long dangerous trip to Mecca.

  "Wow," Kate said softly, "Rory Daniels. The prize catch of the county. Lucky you."

  Shannon managed a cheeky grin. "Yeah, should make local news, don't you think?"

  "It's already gone the rounds. I heard he was here from Betty down at the bank. He'd bought a pot of poinsettias from the flower shop. Betty's sister, who works there, told her. I suspect she's told the rest of the town by now."

  Shannon laughed at the absurdity of the notion. Rory had never noticed she existed. Not until he walked into a convenience store and found three bodies on the floor, hers among them, she reflected, the internal darkness drawing around her once more.

  The nurse bustled in. "Mail call," she said and laid a new stack of cards in Shannon's lap. "Well, now, it's nice to hear you laugh. I'll put that on your chart. The doctor will be pleased. This morning he said you could go home if you continued to improve as you have."

  Fear tightened Shannon's throat. "I can go home?" she said, immediately worrying about where she would go.

  "To the big house," Kate said as if reading her mind. "Megan and Grandfather are expecting you. You can stay with them until the bandages come off and you decide what you want to do next."

  A beat of silence followed this announcement.

  "Until we know if I'm blind or not," Shannon said, saying what they all were thinking, making herself face the possibility. She felt again the hot flash of pain, the absurdity of being shot by some two-bit crook in a convenience store in a scene straight out of a B movie.

  "Now, now, none of that," the nurse chided. "There's every chance you'll be fine. You have to have faith."

  Shannon heard the little squeaks from the woman's shoes as she arranged a lunch tray on the rolling table. After the woman left, Kate muttered in annoyance, "And a Happy New Year to you, too."

  Shannon agreed. "I know she means well, but she is the most irritating person. But I like the mice in her pockets."

  "Oh? I didn't notice them," Kate remarked, amusement in her tone.

  Shannon explained. She was grateful for Kate's wry humor and the fact that her cousin let her handle her lunch without help. Not that sipping a milk shake through a straw took a lot of skill. Neither did eating the paste that was supposed to be pudding.

  Kate read the messages on the get-well cards out loud.

  "Can you tell me who the flowers are from?" Shannon asked. "Rory said I had a roomful."

  When Kate read Brad's name on a card attached to a vase of pink roses, Shannon perked up.

  So he was busy on a case. Or maybe he'd gone to visit his folks in St. Louis this week, although he'd indicated he wasn't going home for the holidays this year.

  Reality reared its head. Some people were repulsed by those with a disability. Or scars. That was one worry she hadn't voiced. It seemed so vain compared to everything else, but she had no idea how the wounds would look when they healed.

  She would face that when the time came, she promised. Later. When she was alone and could think…

  "There, done," Kate said, finishing the cards.

  "Thanks." Shannon hesitated, then spoke. "When the doctor came in this morning, he said I'd have to wear the bandages two weeks to give my eyes a good rest. Then…"

  "Then we'll know," Kate said quietly.

  "Yes."

  "Megan and I'll be there for you. You know that."

  Shannon nodded, not quite able to envision the future. Fear returned.

  Kate kept her entertained with tales of her newly adopted daughter Amanda, Mandy to the family, and Jeremy, Kate's stepson, for the next two hours. When Kate mentioned Jess, her husband of three months, her tone changed, going softer, huskier.

  As she listened to Kate's quiet chatter, Shannon thought of Rory Daniels. Maybe he had been the man of cool light who had made her feel safe when she'd been so strangely lost in a hot, dark fog. Or was her dream man only an illusion created out of pain and delirium? Sometimes she still needed him…

  "By the way, did Rory tell you he'd bought the place next door to us?" Kate asked when she stood to leave.

  "No. What place?"

  "The Mulholland land."

  The land had belonged to Kate's mother-in-law. Kate's first husband had grown up there. Kris had been several years older than she, a Vietnam vet suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. One minute he would be fine; the next, he would change into an angry, suspicious man lost in the jungles of his mind, sure the enemy was near and searching for him and his family. It had been eerie. The marriage had ended in Kris's suicide. Kate deserved all the happiness she now had.

  "Will Rory live in the house?" Shannon asked, curious since she'd recently had the ancient foreman's cabin on the Windraven Ranch, across the creek from the Mulholland house,
remodeled, and had planned to move in over Christmas.

  Oh. She was supposed to be out of her apartment in town by the first of the year. "My apartment," she began.

  "Megan and I finished moving the last of your things and cleaned it. It's all been taken care of. Your SUV is stored in the garage at the new place, too. Sorry. I should have told you earlier so you wouldn't worry."

  "I'd forgotten until this moment." Shannon lifted a hand to her temple.

  Kate touched her shoulder, then gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Your mind is fine. Quit worrying."

  "It isn't my mind I'm worried about, not really."

  "Oh, honey." Kate hugged her fiercely, her protective, nurturing nature familiar and comforting. "We can only wait and see how things turn out. It's hard, I know. You've been terribly brave."

  "Hardly. I wanted to ask, has anyone else come to visit that you know of?"

  "Like a certain young attorney who's new in town?" Kate teased. Her voice became serious. "Not that I know, but Jess said the sheriff had ordered no visitors other than immediate family. He had a deputy outside your door twenty-four hours a day during the week you were in a coma. He's been pretty worried about you."

  "I guess he thought the robber would sneak in and smother me or something," she scoffed, trying not to recall that Rory had somehow gotten in to see her.

  Couldn't Brad have found a way?

  Maybe. If he'd loved her.

  There were a lot of ifs in her life just now. She would have to take each day as it came. But she would be okay. She was sure of it.

  * * *

  Chapter 3

  « ^ »

  Shannon repeated that assurance to everyone who called the rest of the day and the next when Gene Thompson, the sheriff and her boss, came to visit. They discussed the case.

  "There was no third man," Shannon told the lawman. "The wounded guy was the perp." She sensed his impatience at her stubborn denial in the silence that followed.

  "According to his story, the third man was a customer who came in after you and the store owner were unconscious," Gene said, his gruff voice gentle.

  At six feet, six inches and two hundred-plus pounds, the law officer reminded her of a big, friendly bear. Under the tough exterior, he was all heart. He took it hard when one of his deputies was injured.

  "They struggled, then the robber shot him and made his getaway?" she asked skeptically.

  "Yes."

  Shannon mulled over the information. "Well," she finally concluded, "I suppose the evidence shoots holes in my theory that the guy you let go was the robber, especially since the perp's gun wasn't on the premises. I know I shot the real crook. In the shoulder, too, just like the other guy had. The gun couldn't have walked off by itself, and since Rory found three people on the floor, all of us unconscious, the robber must have escaped."

  "Yep. With nothing to go on, the case goes onto the back burner."

  She hit the flat of her hand on the chair arm. "I wish I could see the store, go over it…" She stopped, then shrugged impatiently, refusing to give way to despair.

  "Don't, honey," Gene said softly. "You're going to be fine. Everything has a way of working out."

  "Does it?"

  "I have to believe that, or else I'd go crazy with the insane things people do. Like shoot people over money." He stood. "Well, it's back to work for me. I understand you'll be going home today."

  "Yes, Megan is coming for me as soon as she finishes with her riding students this afternoon. Uh, the nurse said you wouldn't allow any visitors in my room, except family," Shannon said. "And Rory Daniels?"

  Gene muttered a curse. "I told them no one other than Kate and Megan." He snorted, then chuckled. "It's his looks. Women melt when he glances at them. Must be nice."

  "I don't know," Shannon said on a lighter note. "It could be hell, having everyone fall all over you."

  "Could be. Wind River may not be heaven," the sheriff said, abruptly changing the subject, "but it's still a good place to live. Don't let one incident spoil your life."

  "I won't," Shannon promised, thinking of the cards, flowers and candy she'd received. It had all been disposed of and her room was bare, ready for the next occupant when she left. She wanted to go. Ten days in a hospital was enough for a lifetime.

  She kept smiling until the last of her visitors left at the close of visiting hours that afternoon, then she pondered the future. A week from Friday and the bandages would come off. Nine days until she knew her fate. A shaky, rather forlorn, sigh escaped her.

  * * *

  Shannon was surprised when the doctor and the second shift nurse came in a couple of hours later. "What's happening?" she asked, alarmed by the sudden visit.

  "We're taking the bandages off," replied the doctor.

  Her heart lurched. "Now? I thought it was later."

  "Just the ones on your wounds, not the eyes. I don't want any stress on them for a few more days."

  "Oh."

  When the wrappings came off, her head felt funny. She reached up to examine the injuries. Feeling a bristly stubble on the left temple, she remarked in surprise, "I'm bald on one side."

  The doctor chuckled.

  "Not really," the nurse assured her. She was a quiet, efficient person who spoke in a normal, friendly manner. "If you had bangs around your face and a layered look on the sides, the short hair would blend in with the rest in a couple of weeks."

  "Thanks. I'll do that."

  After they left, Shannon found her brush and fussed with her hair. She wondered when she could shower. She must look terrible. On an impulse, she called the beauty shop.

  Marilee said she would give her a shampoo and a cut whenever she appeared. "Don't worry about other customers," she said airily. "They can wait."

  Shannon felt better after hanging up the phone. She'd punched in the number without help. Her spirits lifted. It was a beginning. Today the telephone. Tomorrow the world!

  She laughed until she realized she was close to tears. That wouldn't do, not at all. She wasn't going to get all weepy and make people worry about her when the doctor didn't know anything yet. Besides, everything was going to be fine.

  When Megan arrived, Shannon was ready to go, and they took off for home.

  "Umm, the air smells so crisp and fresh," Shannon said.

  She found she could tell where they were by using her other senses. She recognized the clatter of the tires on the old trestle bridge when they went over the creek. She heard the cows at a dairy farm. The scent of incense cedar indicated the woods near the house.

  When they arrived, she eagerly got out of the station wagon and waited for her cousin. She'd experienced a sense of vulnerability at leaving the known haven of the hospital, but now she wanted freedom from restrictions and routine.

  "It snowed last night. The sun is out today and everything looks pristine," Megan had told her. "Hold on. I'm coming as soon as I get myself together. It's really cold today. It'll be well below freezing tonight."

  Shannon waited for Megan to take her arm and lead her into the house. Lifting her face to the sun, she pictured the mountains, elegant in their coats of new snow. She loved the hills and the sense of family that came to her each time she returned to the ranch. Her roots were buried deep within the rocky soil.

  With a painful lurch of her heart, she realized she might never see the place again. The hot darkness descended on her, as if someone had thrown a blanket over her head. She breathed carefully and fought for composure.

  "Can you carry your personal belongings? Your gun's inside the bag. Careful. The flagstones may be slippery." Megan put a plastic bag into her hand and took her arm.

  Shannon pulled herself back from the brink of panic. She walked through the snow to the side door of the sprawling two-story ranch house, guided by Megan's touch and voice. "Here're the steps. Up. Up. Let me get the door open. Okay, let's go inside."

  "Home," Shannon murmured when the door closed behind her. "It's good to be here." She in
haled the scent of fresh pine and cinnamon in the air. "Something smells good."

  "I made spiced cider before I left to pick you up. Kate sent over apple fritters. Mrs. Roddey cut some pine boughs and put them on the hearth."

  Mrs. Roddey was wife to the rancher who leased their land. "Where's Grandfather?" Shannon stuck her gloves in her pocket, then hung her coat on the hall tree without help.

  "He lay down for a nap a little bit ago. I think the worry over you has gotten to him. He's looked sort of peaked the past few days."

  "Maybe Christmas was hard on him. It is for many people. It makes them feel lonely."

  "Go into the parlor," Megan suggested. "I'll take care of these bags and things."

  Shannon touched the door with her right hand, then, going on memory, walked into the parlor, which was the family gathering place.

  The warmth of a fire in the fireplace reached out to her as she carefully felt for the glider rocker and took a seat. She exhaled a ragged sigh, as if she'd finally reached a safe place after an arduous trip. She hated the feeling of uncertainty, of being vulnerable—

  "You did that very well," a masculine voice commented.

  Shannon gripped the arms of the chair. "Brad?"

  "Sorry to disappoint you," the man said with sardonic amusement. "Rory Daniels. I came by to check on a couple of Megan's boarders and stayed to welcome you home."

  Shannon realized how ungracious she'd sounded. "Oh, yes, the Good Samaritan. Thank you again for your help."

  She realized Rory must be in the chair that used to be her grandfather's. Sitting in the big leather recliner, her granddad used to read the Christmas story from the Bible every year on Christmas Eve. That was before the stroke that had left him paralyzed.

  Things, times, people changed. A wise person accepted that fact. But it was hard.

  "Don't mention it. As a doctor, I'm dedicated to healing, no matter what kind of animal crosses my path."