Best Laid Plans

"You need some attention, Mr. Johnson."



"That can wait." The panic was down to a grinding, deadly fear in the center of his gut. "Tell me about Abra. Where have you taken her?"



"Ms. Wilson is in the best of hands." The doctor was young, with wire-framed glasses and a shaggy head of dark hair. He'd been on the graveyard shift in the ER for a week and was looking forward to eight hours' sleep. "If you lose much more blood, you're going to pass out and save us all a lot of trouble."



Cody lifted him off his feet by the lapels of his coat and slammed him against the wall. "Tell me where she is."



"Mr. Johnson?"



Cody heard the voice behind him and ignored it as he stared into the eyes of the first-year resident. "Tell me where she is or you'll be bleeding."



The resident thought about calling for security, then decided against it. "She's being prepped for surgery. I don't know a great deal about her condition, but Dr. Bost is heading the surgical team, and he's the best."



Slowly Cody let him down, but he maintained the grip on his coat. "I want to see her."



"You can throw me up against the wall again," the young doctor said, though he sincerely hoped it wouldn't come to that, "but you're not going to be able to see her. She needs surgery. You're both lucky to be alive, Mr. Johnson. We're only trying to keep you that way."



"She's alive." Fear was burning his throat more than the smoke inhalation.



"She's alive." Cautiously the doctor reached up to remove Cody's hands. "Let me take care of you. As soon as she's out of surgery I'll come for you."



Cody looked down at his hands. Blood was already seeping through the bandage the ambulance attendant had fashioned. "Sorry."



"Don't mention it. From what the paramedics said, you've had a rough time. You've got a hole in your head, Mr. Johnson." He smiled, hoping charm would work. "I'll stitch it up for you."



"Excuse me." The man who had spoken earlier stepped forward and flashed a badge. "Lieutenant Asaro. I'd like to speak with you, Mr. Johnson."



"You want to speak with him while he's bleeding to death?" Feeling a bit more in control, the doctor pulled open a curtain and gestured toward an examining room. "Or would you like to wait until he's patched up?"



Asaro noticed a chair near the examining table. "Mind?"



"No." Cody sat on the table and peeled off what was left of his shirt. Both his torso and his back were lashed with burns and lacerations that made Asaro wince.



"Close call, I'd say."



Cody didn't respond as the doctor began to clean the gash at his temple.



"Mind telling me what you and Miss Wilson were doing out there at dawn?"



"Looking around." Cody sucked in his breath at the sting of the antiseptic. From a few rooms down came a high, keening scream. "She's the engineer on the job. I'm the architect."



"I got that much." Asaro opened his notebook. "Don't you figure you see enough of the place during the week?"



"We had our reasons for going tonight."



"I'm going to give you a shot," the doctor said, humming a little through his teeth as he worked. "Numb this up."



Cody merely nodded to the doctor. He didn't know if he could get any more numb. "Earlier this evening we were informed that there had been discrepancies on the job. Substandard materials used."



"I see. You were informed?"



"That's right." Cody divorced his mind from his body as the doctor competently stitched the wound. "I'm not going to name the source until I discuss it, but I'll tell you what I know."



Asaro set pencil to paper. "I'd appreciate it."



Cody went through it all - the discovery, the confrontation with Tim Thornway, the confession. His anger at the deception had faded. The only thing on his mind now was Abra. He continued, speaking of the car they had seen leaving the site, their assumption that it had been teenagers taking advantage of a lonely spot.



"You still think that?" Asaro asked.



"No." He felt the slight pull and tug on his hand as his flesh was sewed together. "I think somebody planted explosives in every building on that site and blew it all to hell. It's a lot tougher to identify substandard material when there's nothing much left of it." ,



"Are you making an accusation, Mr. Johnson?"



"I'm stating a fact, lieutenant. Thornway panicked and had his project destroyed. He knew Abra and I were going to the building commissioner tomorrow if he didn't. Now we can bypass that."



"How so?"



"Because as soon as Abra's out of surgery I'm going to find him and I'm going to kill him." He flexed the fingers of his bandaged hand and was vaguely relieved when they moved. He spared the doctor a brief glance. "Finished?"



"Almost." The resident continued without breaking rhythm. "You've got some glass in your back and a few nice third-degree burns."



"That's an interesting story, Mr. Johnson." Asaro rose and pocketed his book. "I'm going to have it checked out. A little advice?" He didn't wait for Cody to answer. "You should be careful about making threats in front of a cop."



"Not a threat," Cody told him. He felt the sting as the resident removed another shard of glass. He welcomed it. "There's a woman upstairs who means more to me than anything in the world. You didn't see how she looked when we got her here." His stomach tightened, muscle by muscle. "You know her only crime, lieutenant? Feeling sorry enough for that bastard to give him a few hours to explain all of this to his wife. Instead, he might have killed her."



"One more question. Did Thornway know you were going to visit the site?"



"What difference does it make?"



"Humor me."



"No. It wasn't planned. I was restless." He broke off to press his fingers to his burning eyes. "I wanted to look at it, try to resign myself. Abra came with me."



"You ought to get yourself some rest, Mr. Johnson." Asaro nodded to the doctor. "I'll be in touch."



"We're going to check you in for a day or so, Mr. Johnson." The doctor wrapped the last burn before picking up a penlight to shine it in Cody's eyes. "I'll have the nurse give you something for the pain."



"No. I don't need a bed. I need to know what floor Abra's on."



"Take the bed, and I'll check on Miss Wilson." The look in Cody's eye had the resident holding up a hand. "Have it your way. You might not have noticed, but there are people around here who like my time and attention. Fifth-floor waiting room. Do yourself a favor," he said when Cody slid gingerly off the table. "Stop by the pharmacy." He scrawled a prescription on a pad, then ripped the sheet off. "Have this filled. Your being in pain's not going to help her."



"Thanks." Cody pocketed the prescription. "I mean it."



"I'd say anytime, but I'd be lying."



He didn't fill the prescription, not because the pain wasn't grim but because he was afraid that whatever he took might knock him out.



The waiting room was familiar. He'd spent hours there with Abra only days before, while David Men-dez had been in surgery. Now it was Abra. He remembered how concerned she'd been, how kind. There was no one there now but himself.



Cody filled a large plastic cup with black coffee, scalded his already-raw throat with it and began to pace. If he could have risked leaving her alone for a time, he would have gone then to find Thornway, to pull him out of that nice white house and beat his face to a pulp on that well-groomed lawn.



For money, Cody thought as he downed the rest of the burning coffee. Abra was lying on an operating table fighting for her life, and the reason was money. Crushing the cup in his hand, he hurled it across the room. The pain that tore through his shoulder had him swearing in frustration.



She'd screamed for him. Cody dragged a hand over his face as the memory of the sound ripped through him every bit as savagely as the glass. She'd screamed for him, but he hadn't been fast enough.



Why had she been alone in there? Why hadn't he sent her back to the car? Why hadn't he simply taken her home?



Why? There were a dozen whys, but none of the answers changed the fact that Abra was hurt and he was -



"Cody." Her hair mussed and her face drawn, Jessie ran into the room. "Good God, Cody, what happened? What happened to Abra?" She took his hands, not noticing the bandage as she squeezed. "They said there was an accident at the site. But it's Sunday morning. Why would she be out there on Sunday morning?"



"Jessie." Barlow hurried in behind her to take her hand and lead her to a chair. "Give him a chance. You can see the boy's been hurt."



Jessie's lip was trembling, and she had to bite it to steady it. She saw the bandages and the burns, and she saw the look on his face, which spoke more clearly than words of shock and fear. "Dear Lord, Cody, what happened? They said she's in surgery."



"You sit, too." Taking charge, Barlow eased Cody into a chair. "I'm going to get us all some coffee here, and you take your time."



"I don't know how she is. They wouldn't let me see her." He was going to break down, he realized, if he didn't find something to hold on to. Reaction had taken its time seeping through, but now it struck like an iron fist. "She's alive," he said. It was almost a prayer. "When I pulled her out, she was alive."



"Pulled her out?" Jessie held the cup Barlow urged on her with both hands. Still, the coffee swayed and trembled. "Pulled her out of what?"



"I was outside, on my way back. Abra was in the building when it exploded."



"Exploded?" The coffee slipped out of her hands and onto the floor.



"The fire went up so fast." He could see it, he could feel it. As he sat in the chair, in his mind he was still back in the building, blinded by smoke and searching for her. "I got through, but I couldn't find her. The place was coming down. There must have been more than one charge. She was trapped under the rubble, but when I got her out she was alive."



Barlow put a hand on Jessie's arm to calm her, and to quiet her. "I want you to take it slow, Cody. Start at the beginning."



It was like a dream now. The pain did that, and the fear. He started with the call from Carmen Mendez and continued until they had wheeled Abra, unconscious, away from him.



"I should have pushed him," Cody murmured. "I should have picked up the phone and called the authorities myself. But he was drunk and pitiful and we wanted to give him a chance to salvage something. If I hadn't wanted to go out there, to look at it, to - I don't know, soothe my pride? - she wouldn't be hurt."



"You went in after her." Jessie rubbed the heels of her hands hard over her face. "You risked your life to save hers."



"I have no life without her."



The time for tears would have to wait. She rose to take his hand. "You know, most of us never find anyone who loves us that much. She's always needed it, and I always fell short. You're not going to lose her."



"I don't suppose you'd listen to an old man and stretch out on the couch over there?" When Cody shook his head, Barlow stood. "Thought not. Got to make a few phone calls. Won't be long."



So they waited. Cody watched the clock as the minutes ticked by. When Nathan and Jackie came in ahead of Barlow an hour later, he was too numb to be surprised.



"Oh, honey..." Jackie went to him immediately, her small, sharp-featured face alive with concern. "We heard almost as soon as the plane touched down. What can we do?"



He shook his head but held on. It helped somehow just to hold on to someone who knew him. "She's in surgery."



"I know. Mr. Barlow explained everything out in the hall. We won't talk about it now. We'll just wait."



Nathan dropped a hand on his shoulder. "I wish we could have gotten here sooner. If it helps any, Thorn-way's already been picked up."



Cody's eyes focused, then hardened. "How do you know?"



"Barlow did some checking. The police went by to question him. The minute he was told that you and Abra had been in the explosion he fell apart."



"It doesn't matter." Cody stood up and went to the window. It didn't matter whether Thornway was in jail or in hell. Abra was in surgery, and every second was an eternity.



Nathan started forward, but Jackie laid a hand on his arm. "Let me," she murmured. She stepped up quietly beside him, waiting for him to gather his control. "She's the engineer, isn't she?"



"Yeah. She's the engineer."



"And I don't have to ask if you love her."



"I haven't even told her." He laid his forehead on the glass because he was tempted to punch his fist through it. "It was never the right time or the right place. Jack, when I pulled her out - " He needed another minute to force himself to say it out loud. "When I pulled her out, I thought she was dead."



"She wasn't. She isn't." She laid a hand gently on his wrist. "I know I have this rotten optimism that can be annoying, but I don't believe you're going to lose her. When she's better, are you getting married?"



"Yeah. She doesn't know that, either. I have to talk her into it."



"You're a good talker, Cody." She touched his cheek, then turned his head so that she could study his face. He was deadly pale, with bruises under eyes that were still swollen and red-rimmed from smoke. "You look terrible. How many stitches?"



"Didn't count."



She turned over his hands, barely managing to suppress a shudder. "Did they give you something for the pain?"



"Some prescription." Absently he touched his pocket.



"Which you didn't fill." At least this was something she could do, Jackie decided, plucking it out of his pocket. "I'm going down to have it filled now, and when I bring it up you're going to take it."



"I don't want - "



"You don't want to mess with me," Jackie told him. She kissed his cheek before she strode out of the waiting room.



He took the pills to placate her, then drank the coffeepot dry to offset the drowsiness. Another hour passed, and then another. His pain dulled to a throb, and his fear sharpened.



He recognized the doctor as the same one who had operated on Mendez. Bost came in, swept a glance over the group huddled in chairs and couches and approached Jessie.



"You're Mrs. Barlow, Miss Wilson's mother?"



"Yes." She wanted to rise but found her legs wouldn't straighten. Instead she put one hand in her husband's and the other in Cody's. "Please, tell me."



"She's out of surgery. Your daughter hasn't regained consciousness yet, and she's lost a great deal of blood. We were able to stop the hemorrhaging. She has some broken ribs, but fortunately her lungs weren't damaged. Her arm was broken in two places, and she has a hairline fracture below the right knee."



Foolishly Jessie remembered kissing scraped elbows and knees to make them better. "But they'll heal?"



"Yes. Mrs. Barlow, we're going to do a series of X rays and a Cat scan.''



"Brain damage?" Cody felt his blood dry up. "Are you saying she has brain damage?"



"She suffered a severe blow to the head. These tests are standard. I know they sound ominous, but they're our best defense against whatever other injuries she may have."



"When will you have the results?" Jessie asked.



"We'll run the tests this afternoon. They'll take a couple of hours."



"I want to see her." Cody stood, sending Jessie a brief, apologetic glance. "I have to see her."



"I know."



"She won't be awake," the doctor explained. "And you'll have to keep it brief."



"Just let me see her."



He wasn't sure what was worse - all those hours of speculation or the actuality of seeing her lying so still, so pale, with bruises standing out so harshly on her cheeks and the tubes hooking her to a line of impersonal machines.



He took her hand, and it was cool. But he could feel the pulse beating in her wrist, echoed by the monitors next to her.



There was no privacy here. She would hate that, he thought. Only a wall of glass separated her from the quiet movement of nurses and technicians in ICU. They'd given her a bed gown, something white with faded blue flowers. He resented the idea that dozens of others had worn it before.



She was so pale.



His mind kept leaping back to that, though he tried to fix it on other, inconsequential things. The faded gown, the beep of the monitors, the hush of crepe soles on the tiles beyond the glass.



Where was she? he wondered as he sat and kept her hand in his through the bars on the sides of the bed. He didn't want her to get too far away. He didn't know what to say to bring her closer.



"They won't let me stay, Red, but I'll be hanging around in the waiting room until you wake up. Make it soon." He rubbed a hand absently over his chest as it tightened. "You came through okay. They want to take some more tests, but they don't amount to much. You've got a nasty bump on the head, that's all."



Please, God, let that be all.



He fell silent again, counting the monotonous beeps of the monitors.



"I was thinking we could take that trip back east once you're out of here. You can work on your tan and nag me about stress points." His fingers tightened uncontrollably on hers. "For God's sake, Abra, don't leave me."



He thought - or perhaps it was only a wish - that her fingers pressed just for an instant against his hand.



* * *



"You've got to get some rest, Cody."



He'd been staring at the same paragraph of the newspaper for twenty minutes. Now he looked up and saw Nathan. "What are you doing back here?"



"Putting my foot down with you." Nathan sat on the couch beside him. "I left Jack at the hotel. If I can't go back and tell her I convinced you to take a break, she's going to insist on coming out herself."



"I'm doing better than I look."



"You'd have to be to still be conscious."



"Be a pal, Nathan." He gave himself the luxury of sitting back and closing his eyes. "Don't push."



Nathan hesitated. He wasn't the kind of man who interfered in other people's lives. There had been a time when he'd chosen not to become involved at all. That had been before Jackie. "I remember saying almost the same thing to you once when I was confused and upset. You didn't listen, either."



"You were being too stubborn to admit your own feelings," Cody said. "I know what my feelings are."



"Let me buy you something to eat."



"I don't want to miss Bost."



"How about an update on Thornway?"



Cody opened his eyes. "Yeah."



"He made a full confession." Nathan waited while Cody lit a cigarette. The ashtray was already littered with them. "He admitted to substituting materials, the payoffs, the bribes. He claims he was drunk and in a state of panic after you and Abra confronted him. He made the call to arrange the arson with some kind of crazed idea that no one would be able to prove anything against him if the project was destroyed."



"Didn't he think there would be an investigation?" Cody expelled a quick stream of smoke. "Did he think we'd all just keep quiet about it?"



"Obviously he didn't think."



"No." Too drained even for anger, Cody stared across the room, where Jessie dozed on Barlow's shoulder. "And because he didn't think, Abra was almost killed. Even now she could be - " He couldn't say it. He couldn't even think it.



"He's going to spend a lot of years paying for it."



"No matter how many," Cody murmured, "no matter how much, it won't be enough."



"Still up and around, Mr. Johnson?" The young resident walked in, looking as though he'd slept in a packing crate. "I'm Dr. Mitchell," he explained to Nathan. "I patched your friend up, oh - " he glanced at his watch " - about eight hours ago." He looked back at Cody. "Hasn't anybody chained you to a bed yet?"



"No."



Mitchell sat and stretched out his legs. "I pulled a double shift, but I still don't feel as bad as you look."



"Thanks."



"That was a free medical opinion. I ran into Dr. Bost up in the lab." He looked longingly at Cody's cigarette, reminded himself he was a doctor and subdued the urge to ask for one. "He was just finishing up with the results of Miss Wilson's tests."



Cody said nothing, could say nothing. Very slowly he leaned forward and crushed out the cigarette.



"It looks good, Mr. Johnson."



His mouth was dry, too dry. He couldn't find the saliva to swallow. "Are you telling me she's all right?"



"We're moving her from critical to guarded condition. The scan and the X rays don't indicate brain damage. She's got one whopper of a concussion, to couch things in unprofessional terms. Bost should be down in a few minutes to give you the details, but I thought you could use a little good news. She came to briefly," he continued when Cody remained silent. "She recited her name and address, remembered who was President and asked for you."



"Where is she?"



"It's going to be a little while before you can see her. She's sedated."



"That's her mother." Cody rubbed a hand over his face. "Her mother's sitting over there. Will you tell her? I've got to take a walk."



"I've got a bed with your name on it," Mitchell said, rising with Cody. "The best way to stay close to your lady is to check into our little hotel. I can recommend the chicken surprise."



"I'll keep that in mind." Cody found his way out and walked.



Abra wanted to open her eyes. She could hear things, but the sounds ran through her mind like water. There was no pain. She felt as though she were floating, mind and body, inches off the ground.



She remembered. If she forced her mind to focus, she remembered. There was the sun shooting in red-and-gold fingers through the dome, and a sense of contentment, of purpose. Then came the fear.



Had she screamed for him? She thought she had, but that had been before that horrible noise had thundered around her. There was another memory, but it was unclear and dreamlike. She had gone flying -  Something like a hot, invisible hand had scooped her up and hurled her through the air. Then there had been nothing.



Where was he?



She thought, was almost certain, that he'd been with her. Had she spoken to him, or was that a dream, too? It seemed to her that she'd opened her eyes and seen him sitting beside her. There had been a bandage on his face, and his face had been drawn and pale. They'd spoken. Hadn't they spoken? With the drugs clouding her mind, she struggled to remember and was frustrated.



Jessie. Her mother had been there, too. She'd been crying.



Then there were strangers' faces. They'd peered down at her, shone lights in her eyes, asked her foolish questions. Did she know her name? Of course she knew her name. She was Abra Wilson and she wanted to know what was happening to her.



Maybe she was dead.



She'd lost track of time, but so had Cody. He'd spend every minute he'd be permitted to, and as many more as he could fight for, beside her. Two days had crawled by. She'd been conscious off and on, but the medication had kept her drowsy and often incoherent.



By the third day he could see that she was struggling to focus.



"I can't stay awake." For the first time he heard petulance in her voice, and he was cheered by it. Until now she had accepted everything without complaint. "What are they giving me?"



"Something to help you rest."



"I don't want any more." She turned her head so that she could look at him. "Tell them not to give me any more."



"You need to rest."



"I need to think." Annoyed, she tried to shift. She saw the cast on her arm and fought to remember. It was broken. They'd told her it was broken. There was a cast on her leg, too. She'd been confused at first, wondering if she'd been in a car accident. But it was becoming easier to remember now.



"The buildings. They're gone."



"They don't matter." He pressed his lips to her fingers. "You gave me a scare, Red."



"I know." She was beginning to feel now. Whenever she was awake for this long she began to feel. The pain reassured her. "You're hurt."



"Couple of scrapes. You're having pain." He was up immediately. "I'll get the nurse."



"I don't want any more medicine."



Patiently he leaned over and kissed her just below the bruise on her cheekbone. "Baby, I can't stand to watch you hurt."



"Kiss me again." She lifted a hand to his cheek. "It feels better when you do."



"Excuse me." The nurse bustled in, all business. "It's time for the doctor to examine you now, Miss Wilson." She shot Cody a look. He'd given her more than his share of aggravation over the past few days. "You'll have to wait outside."



"Yes, ma'am."



"I'm not taking any more medication," he heard Abra say. "If you've got any needles on you, you'd better lose them."



For the first time in days, he laughed. She was coming back.



In another week she was frantic to get out. The night nurse caught her trying to hobble into the corridor. Cody ignored her pleas to smuggle her into the elevators. The doctor scotched her compromise suggestion of outpatient care.



Abra found herself trapped, her arm covered with plaster, her leg in a cast to the knee. She'd gone through phases of anger and self-pity. Now she was just bored. Miserably bored.



When she awoke from a nap she'd taken in self-defense, she saw a woman in her room. She was small and obviously pregnant and had a wild mop of red hair. As Abra looked, she shifted around the arrangements of flowers and plants.



"Hello."



"Hi." Jackie turned and beamed a smile. "So you're awake. Now Cody's going to yell at me because I chased him downstairs to the cafeteria. He's gone from lean to skinny in a week. He'll be gaunt in another couple of days." She walked over to the bed and made herself comfortable beside it. "So how are you feeling?"



"Pretty good." It was easy to smile. "Who are you?"



"Oh, sorry. I'm Jack. Nathan's wife?" She glanced around. "Even with the flowers, hospitals are depressing, aren't they? Bored?"



"Stiff. It's nice of you to come, though."



"Cody's family. That makes you family, too."



Abra glanced toward the doorway. "How is he?"



"He gets better as you get better. We were worried about both of you for a while."



Abra glanced back and studied Jackie's face. She'd had a lot of time to study faces in the last week. This one was friendly and - thank God - cheerful. She'd spoken of Cody as family, and Abra was certain she'd meant it.



"Will you tell me something?" Abra began. "Straight?"



"I'll try."



"Will you tell me what happened? Every time I try to talk to Cody about it he changes the subject, evades or gets angry. I can remember most of it, but it's patchy."



Jackie started to evade, as well, but then she looked into Abra's eyes. Eyes that strong, she decided, deserved the truth. "Why don't you tell me how much you remember?"



Satisfied, Abra relaxed. "We'd gone out to the site, then into the main building. It was still dark, so Cody went out to the car for a light. I was looking around. You know about the switch in materials?"



"Yes."



"When I was alone and looking around, I saw what I took at first for a bunch of drywall compound. It was plastic explosive. I ran for the door." She half lifted her casted arm. "I didn't get there."



Jackie realized she'd been right about the strength. It wasn't fear she saw but determination, laced with what she imagined was a healthy dose of frustration.



"Cody was still outside when the building went up. He managed to get through and find you. I don't know the details about that - he doesn't talk about it - but it must have been terrifying. He managed to drag you out. He told me he thought you were dead."



"It must have been horrible," Abra murmured. "Horrible for him."



"Abra, he's blaming himself for what happened to you."



"What?" She shifted, fought off a twinge of pain and struggled to sit up straighter. "Why should he?"



"He has the idea that if he had dropped the ax on Thornway straight off...if he hadn't wanted to go out there that night... if he hadn't left you alone in the building. If."



"That's stupid." She found the control button and brought the head of the bed up.



"What's stupid?"



Jackie glanced over as Cody walked in. She rose and moved over to pat his cheek. "You are, honey. I'll leave you two alone. Where's Nathan?"



"Took a side trip to the nursery."



She laughed and patted her belly. "I'll join him."



"I like her," Abra said when they were alone.



"Jack's hard not to like." He handed her a rose, careful, as he had been careful for days, not to touch her. "You've got a roomful of flowers, but I thought you might like to have one to hold."



"Thanks."



His eyes narrowed. "Something wrong?"



"Yes."



"I'll get the nurse."



"Sit down." She gestured impatiently toward the chair. "I wish you'd stop treating me like an invalid."



"Okay. Want to take a quick jog around the block?"



"You're a riot."



"Yeah." But he didn't sit. Restless, he roamed the room, stopping off by the table, which was loaded with flowers. "You got some new ones."



"Swaggart and Rodriguez. They called a truce long enough to bring me carnations. They were fighting when they left."



"Some things never change."



"And some things do. You used to be able to talk to me, and to look at me when you did."



He turned. "I'm talking to you now. I'm looking at you now."



"Are you angry with me?"



"Don't be ridiculous."



"I'm not being ridiculous." She pushed herself up, wincing. Cody's jaw tightened. "You come in here every day, every night."



"I must be furious to do that." He walked to her with some idea of helping her settle comfortably.



"Stop it." She took an ill-tempered swipe at his hand. "I can do it myself. A broken arm's not terminal."



He nearly snapped back at her before he bit down on temper. "Sorry."



"That's it. That's it. You won't even fight with me." She gestured with her cast, which was crisscrossed with signatures. "All you do is pat me on the head or hover over me or ask me if I need anything."



"You want to go a couple rounds, fine. We'll take it up when you're on your feet."



"We'll take it up now, damn it. Right now." She pounded a frustrated fist on the bed. She couldn't even get out of bed by herself and pace off the rage. "You've treated me like some kind of slow-witted child these last few days, and I've had enough. You won't even talk to me about what happened."



"What do you want?" The strain that had stretched his emotions to the breaking point finally snapped. "Do you want me to tell you what it was like to see that building go up and know you were inside? Do you want me to describe to you what it was like to crawl through what was left, looking for you? Then to find you half buried, bleeding and broken?" His voice rose as he strode toward her, and he gripped the rail along the side of the bed, his fingers white. "Do you want me to go over how I felt waiting in this damn place, not knowing if you were going to live or die?"



"How are we going to get beyond it if we don't?" She reached for his hand, but he snatched it away. "You were hurt, too." Her own temper and frustration broke free. "Don't you know how it makes me feel to see your hand, your face, and know it happened because you went back for me? I want to talk about it, damn you. I can't standing lying here and trying to reconstruct it."



"Then stop." He waved his hand and sent a pitcher flying. There was some small satisfaction in hearing the plastic hit the wall. "It's over and it's done. When you get out of here we're not going to look back. You're never going to put me through anything like this again. Do you understand?" He whirled back to face her. "I can't stand it. I want you out of here. I want you back with me. I love you and I'm sick of lying in bed at night and sweating through what might have happened."



"What didn't happen," she shouted. "I'm here, I'm alive, because you saw to it. You didn't cause this, you jerk. You saved my life. I love you too much to sit here and watch this eat at you. It's going to stop, Johnson. I mean it. If you can't come in here and treat me normally, don't come at all."



"Stop this." A nurse hurried in. "We can hear you arguing all the way down - "



"Get out!" both of them shouted in unison.



She did, shutting the door behind her.



"You want me to leave, I'll leave." Cody stalked toward the bed again, this time sending the railing down with a crash. "But not before I have my say. Maybe I do blame myself for this. And that's my business. You're not going to sit there and tell me how I should feel or what I should feel. I've played along with your way of doing things too long already."



Abra set her chin. "I don't know what you're talking about."



"No strings, no commitment, no long-term plans. Isn't that the way you set things up?"



"We agreed - "



"I'm through agreeing, and I'm through waiting until the time's right, the place is right, the mood's right. Did you hear what I said a few minutes ago? I said I loved you."



"You didn't say it." Abra frowned down at her hands. "You yelled it."



"Okay, I yelled it." He sat beside her, barely controlling the urge to shout again. "Now I'm saying it, and I'm saying you're going to marry me. And that's the end of it."



"But - "



"Don't." His temper vanished so abruptly that he could only press his fingers to his eyes. "Don't push me now."



"Cody, I - "



"Just shut up, will you?" He dropped his hands, thinking - hoping - he'd regained control. "It wasn't supposed to be like this, a shouting match with you flat on your back. It seems whenever we plan things out it doesn't work. So here it is, Red - no plans, no design. I need you. I want you to marry me, to come back east and live your life with me."



She looked up and took a long breath. "Okay."



With a half laugh he rubbed his hands over his face. "Okay? That's it?"



"Not exactly. Come here." She held out her arm and took him to her. For the first time in days he held her as if he meant it. "You probably heard what I said a little while ago, about being in love with you."



"You didn't say it." His lips curved with a combination of pleasure and relief as he pressed them to her neck. She was warm and very much alive, and she was with him. "You yelled it."



"It's still true." She eased him back so that she could look at his face. "I'm sorry."



"For what?"



"For putting you through all of this."



"It wasn't your fault," Cody told her.



"No, it wasn't." She smiled, curling the fingers at the end of her cast into the fingers at the end of his bandage. "It wasn't yours, either. It's not something I'd like to go through again, but it did push you to ask me to marry you."



"I might have done it anyway." He grinned and brushed his lips over her fingers. "Maybe."



She lifted a brow. They'd crushed the rose between them. Carefully Abra smoothed out the petals. "I have a confession. I was going to come east whether you wanted me or not."



He drew away to study her face. "Is that right?" "I thought that if I got in your way often enough you'd get used to it. In my head I told myself I was going to let you walk away, but in my heart...I wasn't going to give you a chance."



He leaned closer to kiss her. "I wasn't going anywhere."