Chapter 5
AMBER SLIPPED from the bed, careful not to wake Shamus. The sun had yet to rise, but the sky had turned from black to a rich blue. Finding a pair of his boxers and a tank top, she stood by the window, waiting for the sun to rise, watching the stars fade away.
She glanced over her shoulder when she heard a groan. He’d rolled to his side, the covers sliding down to his waist, showing off the scars that lined his back. After the bombing, she’d been desperate to see him in fear that he’d die. Hank had been kind enough to fill her in on what details he could.
Tears struggled to break free. Shamus had not only been near death, but they didn’t think he’d be able to walk again. Six bullets had torn through his body, and a large piece of shrapnel had nicked his spine, slicing through half his back. She’d felt the jagged scars on his back last night, and looking at them now, made her realize how much she’d lost the day she’d walked away.
But he and his family suffered so much more.
Don’t be such a martyr.
Hanks words trickled from her memories to her heart. All these years, and Hank thought she’d felt sorry for herself. Maybe part of her did. But it was more about selfishly protecting herself. The day of Colleen’s funeral, with her father out on bail, she woke up to find him slumped over the kitchen table, drunk out of his mind, as if what happened meant nothing. He was never going to change, and she had to get her mother out of that situation, especially considering her condition. She needed her father in jail, a horrible thought for a child to have, but it was the truth, and she needed proper care for her mother.
A lot for a seventeen-year-old girl to deal with.
Pride had kept her from staying with Shamus.
Pure and simple.
Another groan as he reached toward his back, fisting his hand and rolling it over the scars.
“Let me,” she said as she climbed onto the bed.
He rolled to his stomach, and she could tell he tried not to make a noise, but his face grimaced with pain.
“Light pressure, medium, hard?” she asked, her hands hovering over the torn flesh. A long scar from his surgery slinked halfway up his spine.
“I just need the muscles loosened a bit.” He lifted his head, catching her gaze. “Good morning, babe.”
She smiled. The last time she’d spent the night, his parents had shown up before sunrise. “Do you call every girl you’re with, babe?”
“Only you,” he whispered, closing his eyes. “I tried once with a girl I dated in college, but it felt weird, so I never said it again.”
She kneaded her fists into his back, feeling the tight knots everywhere, just under the skin. The pain he must feel everyday would have driven her mad. “Are you always this sore?”
“Mornings are tough sometimes, but it’s getting better and better. Doc said I’ll always have some pain, and there are things I just can’t do anymore, but I’ll take it considering they told me I’d be paralyzed from the waist down.”
She sucked in a breath. “You’ve always been a fighter.”
“That feels so good,” he said with a soft moan, patting the pillow next to him. “But I’d rather forget the massage and get you naked.”
Being with him had always been so easy. He’d been her best friend. Her everything. Leaving him had been the hardest thing she ever had to do, besides watching her mother fade away into the abyss.
He covered her body with his, showering her neck with kisses, his warm lips coating her skin like the ocean rolled into the sand on a calm day.
The sound of hoofs stomping against the hard ground jerked his body as he pressed his hands on the mattress, pushing up, and peering out the window.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he muttered as he scooted to the side of the bed, rubbing his back with one hand, bending over to snag his pants.
“What it is?”
“My goddamned parents.”
Her heart sank into her stomach. “Deja vu,” she whispered.
He twisted his body, leaning back, his thumb under her chin as he kissed her tenderly.
Lovingly.
“Not even close, other than we’re both essentially naked.”
“I’m not.” She sat up, clutching the sheets to her chest and stared out the window. His father slid off a giant horse, before helping his mother down, who didn’t need the help, but took it anyway. Megan O’Neil had always been a strong, independent woman, but adapted to her husband’s old-fashioned ways without compromising who she was, and Liam never tried to stop her from doing anything she desired.
Even bull-riding.
“God, your father’s hot for an old man.”
Shamus looked much like his father with his mocha eyes, lean muscles, and a slight bow-legged swagger that sent women swooning.
“He does have a thing for younger women.”
Amber laughed, turning her head toward Shamus, who stood at the foot of the bed with just his jeans, though the button had yet to be fastened.
“What are you doing?”
“I was admiring the view.”
“Admire it another time and get your ass out there before your parents walk through the front door.”
He nodded, grabbing his shirt before heading into the family room. She took a few moments to put on proper clothing and make the bed. She really didn’t want to leave the safety of the bedroom but knew it would be rude to hide from his parents. She wasn’t a child anymore.
***
Shamus pulled open the front door before his parents had the chance to knock. “What are you doing here?” he asked, not hiding his annoyance. Not because they had interrupted an intimate moment, but because he wanted to keep them as far away from this, making sure nothing bad happened to them.
“That is not how a son greets his parents, especially his mother,” his father said, taking his hat off and putting it on the hook by the door, letting Shamus know he had no intention of leaving anytime soon.
“Sorry.” Shamus hugged his mother, giving her a kiss on the cheek before slapping his father on the back in one of those manly half-hugs.
“Where’s Amber?” his mother asked with a smile.
“In the bedroom,” Shamus admitted, his cheeks heating as he realized what his parents must be thinking since there was no bedding on the sofa.
“How is she?” his mother asked, her fingers curling around his biceps in a protective fashion, like when he’d been a small boy and she’d escort him across the street in town.
“She’s good, for the most part. She didn’t take too kindly to be being chased, and she’s shook up over these two deaths.”
“I can only imagine,” his father said. “We watched some of the news last night. They aren’t portraying either one of you in a good light.”
“I can’t believe anyone is buying that bullshit,” his mother said, shaking her head. “You nearly died for this country, why anyone would think you’d be involved in treason is just stupid.”
“Honey, it’s ridiculous to us, because he’s our son, but it wouldn’t be the first time a disabled vet did something because—”
“Bite your tongue, old man,” his mother said, reaching out and poking his father’s arm. “Unless you want to sleep in the guest room.”
“As if you’ve ever made me do that,” his father said, with a roll of his eyes.
“So not the point.” His mother waved a finger.
Shamus tapped his chest with his index finger in rhythm with his heartbeat. His parents had the kind of relationship the world aspired to have, filled with true love, respect, and total devotion. At one time, Shamus thought he’d have that with Amber. “Why don’t we sit and have some coffee.”
“Before I forget.” His father pulled out a phone. “Hank wanted me to give this to you.”
Shamus was going to have to have a talk with Hank about putting his parents in the middle of this mess. He didn’t care that the doctor said his father was healthier than most men half his age, and his mother was a better shot than anyone on the ranch.
“What was he doing at your place this early?” Shamus asked, heading for the kitchen and the coffee maker.
“We called him,” his mother said.
“Why?” Shamus glanced over his shoulder, growing concern seeping into his brain.
“A small package showed up on our doorstep this morning for you with no return address,” his father said.
“Not to mention that no one delivers in these parts this early.” His mother sat at the table, constantly eyeing the door that led to the bedroom. His mother had always loved Amber, and she’d been the one who’d given her the nickname pigtails. He remembered the first time he’d walked into town, hand and hand with Amber when they’d been fifteen, and his mother drove by. She didn’t stop and embarrass him, but she had pulled over, pretending to stop at the drugstore, said hello and slipped him a twenty to buy some ice cream.
“That’s not good,” Shamus said, as he continued making a large pot of coffee, the clock flashing 7:48 in the morning. “I hope you didn’t open it.”
His parents didn’t get the chance to respond as Amber, with all her grace and style, made her way into the kitchen. She wore a pair of fresh jeans that hung loose over her hips and the same tank she’d had on earlier.
“Mr. and Mrs. O’Neil,” she said in a soft voice, but with a sweet smile. The last time they had all been gathered in this room, his parents had to tell them about the accident.
“Please, call us Liam and Megan.” His father pulled back a chair. “You’re still as beautiful as ever.”
“Thank you.” Amber sat at the table, keeping her back stiff, keeping her hands in her lap. “You both look exactly the same.”
His father let out a hardy laugh. “My wife does, but me? I look like a man with one foot in the grave.”
“Say that again, and I’ll embarrass you in front of our son and his friend about how spry you really are.” His mother had never had much of a filter.
“That will just make me look like a stu—”
“Pop,” Shamus said, not wanting to hear about how his parents still had a sex life.
His father shrugged his shoulders. “You’ll be grateful if at my age—”
“I’d really appreciate if we didn’t go there,” Shamus muttered.
“It’s good to see you.” His mother looped an arm over Amber’s shoulder, giving it a good squeeze and thankfully changing the subject. “I’m sorry for the circumstances, but we’ve missed your pretty face around here.”
“That’s sweet of you to say.” Amber glanced in his direction, her eyes filled with a combination of regret and joy, something he understood. “Thank you for letting me stay here.”
“We wanted you in the main house, but it turns out our son was right, and it’s better that you both are here,” his father said.
Shamus set the coffee pot on the center of the table, along with four mugs, a bowl of sugar and powered cream, taking his place next to his father.
“Did something happen?” Amber asked.
“My parents were about to tell me about a package that arrived this morning for me, which forced them to call Hank.” He sipped his coffee, keeping his gaze locked on Amber.
His Amber.
While he’d always thought of her often, he’d nearly married once and been in three serious relationships. They hadn’t worked out for various reasons, but deep down, he always knew Amber had been the only woman for him.
“What was in it?” Shamus asked.
“A medal of honor,” his father said.
“One exactly like you were given.” His mother twirled the spoon in her coffee. “It had what looked like an official note, something about how it was a replacement for the one you lost.”
“I never lost mine,” Shamus said.
“We all know that, but Hank fiddled with it and found a tracking device,” his father said in a grave tone. “I’m thankful it wasn’t a listening device because I had said Amber was here and where the two of you were held up.”
“Is Hank still at our place?” Shamus asked.
“He’s going to send these jerks on a wild goose chase, in hopes to catch them at their own game, giving you some time to go to Buck Mountain.” His father leaned forward, pressing his hands on the table. “He also wanted me to tell you he’s no fool and knows exactly what you have up there, and he’ll send whatever you need.”
Of course, Hank knew. He knew everything.
“But he also told me to tell you not to speak with anyone. You’re going to have to dig solo. He really believes this is coming from someone you know.” His father leaned back, folding his arms. “You two should get moving just in case someone is watching.”
“Pop, maybe you and Mom should take a trip.” Shamus pushed his chair back, the legs screeching against the floor. “Go visit Nana and Pappy or—”
“Hank thinks that would look suspicious right this second,” his mother said, but Shamus heard that stubborn tone before. She wasn’t budging off her land unless someone picked her up, tossed her over their shoulder, and hauled her off.
“Just be careful,” Shamus said.
“You do the same, son.” His father pointed to Amber. “When this is all over, you have to promise us you’ll come over for dinner before you head out of town.”
“I’ll do that.” Amber nodded with a genuine smile.
Shamus watched as his parents embraced Amber, holding her a second longer than acceptable and taking a moment to look into her eyes with only kindness in their hearts, like he knew they always would have. He stood with his arm around Amber’s waist as his parents mounted their horses, his father tipping his hat, before kicking the heels of his stallion, taking off in a full gallop.
“Show off,” his mother muttered, blowing a kiss before doing the same to her mustang, named Pigtails. He wondered if Amber would get a kick out of that or think it crazy.