“I did.” She flattened her hand on her chest.

He opened his mouth to say something but seemed to think better of it. The tension went out of his shoulders. “I’m a shit. Ask Gracie. She wrote it down.”

Moments ticked past. Kerra massaged her brow, got a grip. Looking at him again, she asked, “Is your head okay?”

“Carson told me you called to inquire.”

“At the very least I wanted to know if you were upright and mobile, or undergoing delicate brain surgery.”

“My head injury wasn’t serious. I heard that myself on the news. Oh, wait. Wasn’t that you reporting?”

She glowered at him.

He raised his hands to his sides in an apologetic gesture. “The scalp wound was superficial, couple of stitches. Goose egg went away in a few days.” He paused for emphasis. “But I had to get my head on straight, Kerra.”

It was an idiomatic statement, but rife with underlying meaning. Unable to stay angry with him, she said, “I understand.”

He shifted his weight, looked around the room, and when he came back to her, picked up on Hank. “I’d warned him that if he ever hit me again, he’d be preaching through dental work. His jaw’s wired shut.”

“I hope they throw the book at him.”

“It’s as good as thrown.”

“Glenn?”

“I saw him today. He’s broken over Hank, but at least he’s not behind bars. He was granted bail for health reasons, and, in terms of prosecution, he’s way down in the pecking order. He’s turning state’s evidence. Probably won’t serve time.”

“I’m sure you had something to do with all that.”

He didn’t deny it, but he didn’t admit it, either. She gave him a knowing smile. “The thing is, Trapper, you’re not a shit at all. You only want people to think you are.”

“Must be a damn good act, because most do.”

Even though there was a lot she could say to dispute that, she forfeited the point. “In case you ever showed up uninvited, I kept something for you. Come here.”

She led him into her bedroom, went to the closet, and switched on the light inside it. She dragged out a cardboard box and scooted it across the floor to the side of the bed. “I heard you put the house and land on the market and had all the furnishings auctioned off.”

“Who told you?”

“I can’t reveal a source.”

“You’re seriously going to play that card?”

“Is it true?”

“Yes. That place was never home to me, and, after everything, I knew I’d never go back.”

“Sit down. Open the box.”

He sat on the edge of the bed and lifted the lid. Inside were the photos from his bedroom in The Major’s house.

Kerra sat beside him. “I asked Jenks to collect them before the auction. I thought you might want them. If not right now, someday.”

Trapper stared down at the framed photos but didn’t touch them. His chest rose and fell on a deep breath. “I want to believe, Kerra, but …”

“Believe what?”

“That he told the truth before he died. That he wasn’t one of the bombers, and that the reason—the only reason—he’d tried to get to you through that locked door was to warn you.”

“Why else would he?”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know. Maybe Wilcox—”

“Trapper, you’ve got to let it go.”

“Dammit, don’t you think I want to? Don’t you think I want to believe that the man in these pictures, the dad I remember, was corrupted only by fate and fame as he said? But I’m having trouble accepting that.”

“Why?”

“Wilcox wanted you silenced. You and The Major are alone in the house. What does he do? He opens the gun cabinet and takes out that rifle. By your own admission, when you heard the shot, you thought he had fired it. By accident, maybe, but—”

“He couldn’t have fired it. It wasn’t loaded.”

He gave her a sharp look.

She said, “I thought you knew that.”

He shook his head. “How do you know?”

“Glenn Addison told me. The day I was released from the hospital. He and the Texas Rangers were questioning me. One of the details they were withholding from the public was that the rifle was found lying on the floor within The Major’s reach. Until I told him otherwise, Glenn had reasoned The Major had taken it from the cabinet when he heard intruders. Not that it would have done him any good, he said. ‘It wasn’t loaded.’”

She placed her hands on Trapper’s forearm and squeezed. “It wasn’t loaded, Trapper. The Major had no intention of harming me. He was probably replacing the gun in the cabinet when he heard Jenks and Petey Moss. He came to warn me. Accept that.” Lowering her voice, she said, “Accept that he loved you. Then start living your life. Not his.”

He looked down at the picture on the top of the stack inside the box. Trapper was missing a front tooth. He was wearing a grass-stained softball uniform, kneeling beside a trophy that was taller than he. The Major was standing behind him, hands on his shoulders, grinning widely.

Trapper gave a wistful smile and replaced the lid. After scooting the box aside, he turned to her. “I have no choice except to love him. If it hadn’t been for him, I wouldn’t have met you.”

Her breath caught.

“I had to show up here uninvited, Kerra.”

She tilted her head inquisitively.

“You stopped calling Carson.”

“He was becoming irritated.” Huskily she added, “And I do have my pride.”

He gazed into her eyes for an extended time, then softly asked, “If I make a pass, are you going to hurl me through that plate glass window?”

“Only a reckless man would risk it.”

“Not reckless. Desperate.”

“Then it’s probably worth taking the gamble.”

“Well, here goes.” He reached out and brushed his thumb back and forth across her beauty mark. “I lied when I said I didn’t need your consolation.” He slid his hand down the side of her throat, moved her collar aside, and buried his face between her neck and collarbone. “I do. I need you. I want you like hell. It’s a sickness. Carson says it’s love. He thinks it’s hysterical.”

“What do you think?”

He raised his head to look at her. “What I know is, if you don’t invite me to stick around, I’ll just have to carry you off again.”

“Stick around for how long, Trapper? An hour? A night, before you dash away again?”

“No, I’d like to stay until I’m cured of what ails me.” He rubbed his thumb across her lower lip. “But since the thought of being without you only makes me sicker, it could be indefinite.”

“A vicious cycle. I don’t see an end to it.”

“Me either. You may want to take that into consideration before saying yes.”

She pretended to ponder it until he cursed under his breath and kissed her with enough tenderness to stir her heartstrings and enough passion to set her hormones ablaze.

The kisses continued uninterrupted as they lay back, face to face. When he finally broke apart, she gasped, “I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”

“You know the alternative.”

“You’d carry me off?”

“Without hesitation. But not in a stolen car. And first, I’d fulfill my sex fantasy.”

“You’ll have to be more specific.”

“To fuck you in your newslady clothes.” He put his hand under her skirt and slid it up her inner thigh, hooking his thumb in the band of her panties and tugging.

“Before you even got out of your coat and boots?”

“Hmm. That’s part of it. I only wish you’d left the high heels on.”

“Well, maybe this will make up for them.”

“What?”

Leaning up, she placed her lips against his ear and whispered, “You’re going to love this.”

She finished unbuttoning her blouse and watched his smile stretch when he saw the bra she was wearing underneath.