CnC 5 One Hex of a Wedding by Yasmine Galenorn Page B

room.
    I sat beside Joe, parked on the edge of his bed, holding his hand. The thought that he might have died if he hadn’t turned to the side—exactly at the precise moment needed—ricocheted through me as surely as any bullet. One fraction of movement, one inch to the right, and it could have been all over. I stared at the snow white sheets, thinking how sterile they looked, and how clinical. I wanted to take him home, to tuck him into bed and take care of him till he was healed. But the hospital was the safest place for him right now, and spending one night alone was a small price to pay for peace of mind.
    Joe sighed. I could tell he was getting tired. “Do you want us to leave so you can get some rest?”
    He adjusted himself against the pillows and winced again. “No, not really, but I am tired. I just can’t figure out why somebody would deliberately shoot me. It had to be an accident. I can’t believe that I was the target.”
    “People are strange,” I murmured. “Their actions don’t always make sense.” But inside, somewhere deep inside, I knew that the shot had been deliberate. For some reason, Joe had ended up with a big fat target sign painted on his chest, and it was only luck that had kept him alive. “You sleep now. I have to go home to the kids, but I’ll tell the nurse to call if you need me.”
    Murray and Jimbo waved and slipped into the hall to give us some privacy. I leaned down and placed a lingering kiss on Joe’s lips. He started to reach up, to open his arms, but then stopped and moaned. The nurse entered the room at that point and shooed me toward the door.
    “Your young man needs his rest,” she said. “If you phone tomorrow around ten, we’ll be able to tell you whether or not the doctor will be releasing him.”
    “What medications is he on?” I asked, watching as she prepared a shot.
    “We gave him a broad-spectrum antibiotic to fight any impending infection and a pain reliever. He’ll remain on an IV drip through the night, to make sure he’s fully hydrated.” She held up the syringe. “This is a mild sedative. The doctor wants him to get plenty of sleep and this will put him out for the night.”
    As she prepared his arm for the injection, I blew him another kiss and then reluctantly slipped out the door to join Jimbo and Murray. We stood in the hall for a moment. “I need a ride home,” I said. “I came with Deacon.”
    “Actually, so do I. I rode in the ambulance with Joe.” Jimbo shook his head. “I hope nobody went out to my place expecting dinner. There wasn’t exactly time to leave a note.”
    “Sandy and Greg would have told them what happened,” Murray said. “But they wouldn’t be able to provide a status on Joe’s condition. If anybody showed up, they’re likely to be mighty worried by now.”
    “Can you drop me off at home before you head to the station, Mur?” We headed toward the exit. “I need to make sure the kids are all right and defuse the situation with my folks. This is so not going well. They want a nice, quiet life for their grandchildren and so far, I haven’t measured up in that regard.”
    With a laugh, Murray wrapped her arm around my waist. “Don’t sweat it, Emerald. Tell them that you get bored with quiet. Tell them that this is quiet for you! Tell them that … that you’re doing the best you can.”

    MURRAY AND JIMBO dropped me off, promising to call with any developments as soon as they heard about them. I steeled myself, expecting to find my parents, Grandma M., and Rose all waiting to pounce, and I dreaded the round of questions that was sure to follow. And to top it off, I had to call Joe’s brother and let him know what was going down. As I trudged up the porch steps, I let out a long, slow breath. Might as well get it over with.
    To my surprise, only Harlow, James, and my children were waiting for me. “Where is everybody?”
    Harlow grinned. “I figured you wouldn’t be up to facing all those questions so