Conall's Legacy (21 page)

She strode toward them and hugged Cindy, then stuck her hand out to shake as Cindy introduced her to Adriano. He was at least six feet two, had piercing brown eyes and dark mahogany hair. His handshake was firm but friendly.

“You have a beautiful place here, Ms. Montoya.” His voice held a hint of Spanish-sounding accent mixed with something she didn’t recognize. Had Cindy told her he was from Brazil?

“Thank you, and please, call me Luisa. We don’t stand on formality here.” Luisa watched his gaze slide over her, assessing. Irritation skidded through her body. She turned to Cindy, feeling like an ant in a living laboratory. “You two want to see how the new baby is coming along?”

Cindy glanced at Adriano and when he nodded, turned to Luisa. “You bet. Let’s give him the grand tour.”

Glad for the momentary reprieve, Luisa agreed. “Sure. I never get tired of showing off the animals. Come on.”

A short time later, lemonade in hand, they all settled on the back porch. Luisa sat in her usual spot, one leg tucked under her and the other rocking her father’s chair.

“Cindy has told me something of your phobia, Luisa. I think I can help you, if you want me to.”

Well, he doesn’t believe in wasting time
. “How would you do that?” she asked.

“I use a combination of treatments, but mostly hypnotherapy and desensitization,” Adriano answered.

Luisa frowned. “You mean like going off the property more and more until I get used to it again?”

“That’s right. It can be uncomfortable, but it gets easier over time.”

“Uncomfortable? Terrorizing’s more like it.” Luisa sipped lemonade, fighting the constriction just talking about this brought to her throat. She forced it aside.

“Okay, so I could live with making myself leave the ranch more frequently and for longer periods. That’s easy enough.”

Adriano raised on eyebrow.

“Well, not easy exactly. Doable. It would be doable.” She thought of Drake coming back that evening and wondered if he might be around in the future to help her do this.

“Do you want to be well?” Quietly asked or not, it carried power.

Luisa wiped sweat from her glass, twisting it in her hands. “You didn’t answer me, Luisa. Are you ready to let the past go?”

She started to blurt out a positive response, but something stopped her. Fear curled in her breast, wrapped around her heart. Was she ready? She didn’t know. She was sure she didn’t like his pushy attitude. Her temper flared. As far as she was concerned he could take his psychoanalysis and shove it. It was time to call a halt to this.

“I appreciate you both coming out, but I can’t afford therapy at this point. Maybe in the fall.” She reached for the lemonade pitcher beside her. “More--”

“Cindy said you might be willing to barter.”

Luisa sent Cindy an exasperated look. “That’s true, but not now. I’m too busy--”

“And when will you have time, Luisa? When will you take back your life?”

“Well, I--”

“No excuses. Think,” he ordered.

“Adriano, stop badgering her.” Cindy tugged uselessly on his arm. “What’s the matter with you?”

He shook her hand off his sleeve. “I am not badgering. I am asking her to make a choice. I can help her. It is that simple.” He rose abruptly to his feet and set his empty glass on the side table. “Thank you for your hospitality.” He looked at Cindy. “We need to go back to town. I have patients who want my help in Tucson.”

Frustration and fury pushed her carefully banked temper to life again. Who the hell did he think he was, coming to her home to bombard her with questions? Luisa purposefully set her lemonade aside. She rose slowly, stretched as tall as she could to go almost nose-to-nose with him.

“Listen, Doctor God,” she poked his chest with her finger. “I will decide when I am ready to fight this. No one else. And
if
I decide I want your help, I know where you are.” She kept her hands curled into fists at her sides to keep from slugging him.

Cindy jumped up and wedged herself between Luisa and Adriano. “Come on, you two. Settle down,” she commanded. “Luisa, thanks for the lemonade. Let’s go, Adriano.” Her tone told Luisa she had plenty to say to doctor macho in private.

Adriano nodded curtly at Luisa. “Call me when you decide you want help.” He pulled a card from his wallet and slapped it down beside the empty glasses, then strode off the porch and around the corner of the house.

Cindy looked at her helplessly, lifting her hands in surrender. “I’m sorry. I ....”

Luisa just shook her head. “It’s all right. He gave me a lot to think about. I can’t decide now. I’ve got work to do.” She turned and went into the house, leaving Cindy standing on the porch stuck between her best friend and the man who could heal her, the man who had infuriated her. Another man forcing her to re-evaluate her life.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Drake stepped closer to see monitors scrolling updated flight information and found the number for his flight.
On time. Right
. He glanced at his watch and saw it was already past time to take off, let alone board. What is up with that? he wondered.

With an impatient shake of his head, Drake realized he was more eager to return to the desert than he had been to come back to Los Angeles. How could he have imagined he was in love with Conall’s wife? In love with the family life maybe, but not the woman herself. Rebecca was an incredible person, but she’d been Conall’s all along and would be for a very long time.

Pain twisted in his chest like a turning knife. How fickle could a guy get? he wondered. His feelings were hurt that Rebecca had summarily dismissed him and his help. He should be glad, but instead he was sulking like a discarded lover.

Drake sighed, rubbed his open palm against his chest to ease the ache there. Would Luisa love him like Rebecca loved Conall? Would she let him become part of her life on the ranch?

He glared at the screen, checking the time for departure one more time. Suddenly, all the messages on the screen flipped to “delayed.” The sound of running feet echoed down the bare floor of the hallway as a three officers ran toward the jetway three over from the one for his flight. Drake couldn’t help it; he followed them at a jog.

The entrance to the ramp burst open and flight personnel rushed into the building and started herding passengers away from the waiting area. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and his heart rate clicked into high gear. Something was up.

Drake hurried toward the officers gathered at the door speaking to a female captain. He already had his badge in his hand. “LAPD. Need help, Captain Sanchez?” he asked reading her name tag.

“Sure. We can use all the help we can get.” She jerked her head toward the plane as she strode onto it, Drake following on her heels. “There’s a guy inside with a gun.”

“You’re kidding, with all this security?”

“He spotted the air marshal and managed to get it from him. Says he wants to commit suicide. Bigger problem is he’s holding the marshal as hostage.”

“Not waiting for a negotiator?”

“Sure. We’re pretty much just going to try to stabilize things until we can get one here.”

Drake ducked his head and stepped onto the aircraft right behind her. The adrenaline raced through his blood as it did every time he answered a call. Would they stop the man in time to prevent his death or that of the hostage? Drake recognized the familiar mix of fear and excitement that surged through him.

He surveyed the area. The seats were empty of passengers. At the end of the long hallway, a man stood with his arm around the throat of a terrified young man. He had a gun pointed at the marshal’s head. Drake joined the other cops behind the divider between economy and first class. This sure as hell won’t stop any flying bullets, he thought.

He glanced at the other men and women putting their lives on the line for the job, protecting the innocent at their own peril. The danger was there, sure, but the satisfaction of serving others, of making a difference, that was part of it, too.

“Let me talk to him,” he said quietly. “I’ve done this before. I may be able to make a connection.”

She looked him up and down, obviously trying to assess a man she’d never met. “Okay, but take it easy. If he gets agitated at all, back off.”

He nodded at her, and then stepped out from behind the divider, his hands in the air.

“Can I talk to you?”

“Stop! Hold it right there.”

“I’m Drake Forrester. What’s your name?”

“Leave me alone and get out of here.” His hand shook as his hold wavered.

“What’s your name?” Drake asked again and eased forward as he spoke. “It can’t hurt to tell me that.”

“Jonathan.”

“Where do you live Jonathan?”

“Uh ... uh, Santa Monica.”

Drake took another step. “Stop it! Get away from me,” Jonathan screamed.

Drake held his hands up again. “It’s okay. No one is going to do anything you don’t want. Why don’t you let the man go?”

“No. Back off.”

“If you have suicide in mind, I can’t stop that. But why hold him? You only need him if you want to run away. We won’t rush you, I promise. Let him go.”

“No.”

Drake could see he was thinking it over. “You don’t want to hurt anyone else. At least let him sit down next to the window. He can’t run away then.”

Jonathan looked around wildly and finally agreed. The marshal’s gaze met Drake’s, seeming to agree with his tactics. Easing out of the man’s hold, he sat down in the window seat. Drake stepped forward again.

“Stop it! Back up!” The man motioned with the gun, and Drake froze but didn’t give up any of the distance he’d closed.

“Why you doin’ this, Jonathan?”

“Fired. I got fired. Wife left. Took my kids.” A sob broke from his throat. “Everything’s going to shit.”

His voice dropped as he lost momentum.

“Jonathan, that’s rough, man. No wonder you feel like you do.”

The man nodded, and then wiped sweat from his face onto his sleeve.

“Can I share my story with you?”

Jonathan shrugged. “I guess.”

“My dad committed suicide when I was ten. I’ve never forgiven him for that. When other kids had their dads, I didn’t. When I needed him to guide me to adulthood, he wasn’t there. Don’t do this, Jonathan. Your kids need you.”

Drake saw the gun tremble in his hand. “You don’t want to lose them do you? Put the gun down.”

“Did your dad really kill himself, or you just saying that?”

“I wish I were, but I’m not making it up. My mom died young, and he couldn’t handle it, so he killed himself. Don’t do that to your kids. Let me have the gun and we’ll get some help for you. We won’t hurt you, I promise.”

Drake edged forward, his hand held out palm up for the gun. Jonathan looked at Drake, considered, and gave up, handing the gun over. Drake stepped aside as the other officers rushed forward and took Jonathan off the plane.

Drake shook hands with the air marshal.

“Thanks, Drake. I thought I’d seen my last day. Can’t believe I let him surprise me that way and grab my gun.” He shook his head, disgust evident on his face.

Drake shrugged. “Things happen. We can’t win ‘em all.”

“Well, thanks. I owe you.”

Drake walked off the plane to pats on the back and thanks from the officers on scene.

“No problem.” He shrugged. “Is a cop ever off duty? Goes with the territory.”

They nodded in agreement and he walked away, focused on his flight and how much he wanted to get back to Luisa. But what was the purpose? He knew police work was his life just as the ranch was hers. Could he give it up and go to a job as a small town sheriff’s deputy? How quiet would that be? Surely not much went on out there but DUIs and rowdy kids. Service was service, wasn’t it? his mind argued. He shook his head. It wasn’t the same as bomb squad duty.

By going back, he was giving them both false hope.

A picture of the two of them on her place, surrounded by miles of nothing but mesquite and cactus popped to mind. What was he thinking? Leave the city? The job? The people?
Damn
.

The officers took another thirty minutes to declare the area safe, and then the airport managed to get things back to normal. He moved to the huge windows and looked across the airport toward skyscrapers outlined by blue sky tinged with brown smog. Surrounding the buildings were streets crawling with people and vehicles like so many participants from a stadium after Monday night football.

The picture of the mesquite trees, dried grass, animals, and Luisa came back to his mind’s eye. A peaceful feeling settled over him. He focused his attention on the crush of people hurrying through the airport. The noise level increased to something closer to what he was used to.

Even if she could live like this, he knew Luisa would never leave her home. She’d been born and raised there. Besides she’d think of the animals before herself. Abandoning them would not be an option. Drake wondered what it would cost to board one horse in the city, let alone a dozen, and not to mention the cows she had. Not on my salary, he thought. If they were going to get together, they’d have to do it on her terms, in her world. It had been great--exotic he supposed you could call it. For a visit, he amended. A visit with a new friend and no more. It could never be more.