Page 76 of Moonlit Hideaway
“He didn’t push me.”
“Guess that means I can’t charge him with attempted murder,” Ruth said sternly. “But you’re safe now, dear. We’ll make sure that man never bothers you again.”
“There’s more you should know.” Sierra found it difficult to choke out the words. The small-town cop was underestimating Marco. He’d already woven his tentacles around Hattokwa Island all because she chose to run to the island and dishonor him. “Marco bought the property next to Hank’s inn. He plans to rip out the forest and build a resort with a seaside golf course. He’ll be in a position to endanger Hank and Emma while pretending to be a nice neighbor. He’s already ingratiated himself with Mayor Winston.”
To her surprise, Ruth’s grim face relaxed with something like a smile. Whose side was she on? It wouldn’t surprise Sierra if Marco had already paid off the cops. No wonder Ruth insisted no crime had been committed.
“I have some news for you.” Ruth leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Marco’s yacht ran into an offshore shoal and floundered to its side. Marco and the crew were thrown into the water. The Coast Guard picked them up. The two younger men were okay, but Marco, on the other hand, wasn’t wearing a life jacket. He got choppered off to an ICU up north.”
Her heart, too, floundered at the news. “He’s going to take it out on me, causing his yacht to wreck.”
“I wouldn’t worry about the yacht or Marco’s anger right now.” Ruth stared into Sierra’s eyes. “He’s in a coma. The next few days are critical, but…”
“That’s too bad for him,” Sierra said. “But what does it mean for us?”
“You should be prepared,” Ruth said. “Legally, as his wife, you have certain responsibilities and rights, especially if he’s incapacitated.”
“I don’t want any of this.” Shock dawned on Sierra that she was truly tied to Marco. “I only married him to protect Hank and Emma. That’s all.”
Ruth placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I know, dear. But sometimes we have to face the consequences of our choices, no matter how noble our intentions were.”
Sierra’s thoughts raced to Hank and how he would take the news of her marriage to the mob boss. Would he understand or believe she wanted to return to her old life? And yet, whether he understood or not didn’t matter. She was legally tied to a man she despised. She longed to be in Hank’s arms, to feel the safety and love she felt only with him, but she’d traded it for his safety.
“I need to see Hank. I need to tell him everything. It’s hard to believe I’m married just like that, but I’d rather Hank hears it coming from me. Give me a chance to explain why I did it.”
Ruth raised her hand. “Say no more. Your secret’s safe with me. Meanwhile, I suggest you talk to your lawyer. Marco’s doctors are waiting for his next of kin to give the direction for treatment.”
Hank lay on his hospital bed, surrounded by his family and friends as a crowd of well-wishers milled about in the corridor. No matter the late hour, the entire island was passing through his room to wish him well and celebrate his survival through the treacherous inlet. But despite constant reassurance that Sierra was fine, Hank felt her absence like a hole in his heart. How he wished to hold her in his arms and be the first face she sawwhen she woke. He couldn’t forget how pale and blue she looked when they loaded her onto the ambulance. All night, while he struggled for warmth, the nightmare of fighting the waves and the rip currents drenched him with dread at how easily he could have lost her.
Emma’s last update on Sierra only made him more worried. She was awake and talking to Sheriff Davis. They looked so solemn and grim, according to Emma, making him wonder what she might have suffered at the hands of the mob boss.
Had Marco pushed Sierra overboard as punishment for running away? Did he slap her around or threaten her life? If anything had happened to her, it would have been his fault for chasing the yacht and causing her demise.
Still, it burned that she’d willingly gone to Marco—even if her aim was to protect Emma. They could have found another way. The FBI agents could have surrounded the boat and made an arrest. Still, he couldn’t fault Sierra for not trusting the authorities. They were often bribed and compromised in the world she grew up in.
“Dad, Dad!” Emma streaked back into the room. “They’re bringing Jane down the hall. She’s looking good.”
Emma had been running between the rooms all evening with updates on Sierra’s condition, but Hank was still worried that there was something the doctors weren’t telling him. Call it an innkeeper’s intuition, but Ruth seemed to make it a point to interview Sierra in private before she moved rooms, and Martha Thompson, one of the town’s biggest gossipers, was strangely mum, acting like a cat with a bird in her mouth.
He craned his neck, wishing the hordes of well-wishers could vanish, as the orderlies pushed Sierra’s bed into his room. Their eyes met, and a sea of unspoken words passed between them. Her eyes were tired but alert, sparkling at the sight of him, andall he could do was stare at the lovely vision of the woman he thought he’d lost to the wind and the waves.
He longed to tear out his IV tube, jump from the bed, and sweep her off her bed to be with him, but he was stuck in his bed, and she in hers. Besides, the entire village watched as the orderlies positioned their beds side by side.
He reached for her hand, tangling their IV lines, and was so grateful he would be singing praises if his throat wasn’t so raw from swallowing seawater.
“Thank God,” he breathed. “You made it. How are you feeling?”
“Warming up, and waking up. You?”
“Great. Can’t wait to take you home.” He squeezed her hand, glad she seemed happy and pleased, although the worry lines between her brows concerned him.
What exactly was she going to do about Marco? He wasn’t a man to give up easily, and he would be coming back once he discovered Sierra missing from the yacht. Could it be possible to set up a witness protection program and change Sierra’s identity permanently?
Yet, he knew she could not stay as Jane Dolan and be happy. She lived and breathed the excitement of a live concert in front of thousands.
She was about to say something to him when Emma, in her youthful enthusiasm, rushed to hug her. “I’m so happy you’re okay. I’ve been practicing that song you taught me. The festival is this Saturday. Will you be singing it with me?”
His mother stood behind Emma, dabbing her wet eyes with a tissue while Howie gave her a nod and a gruff, “Good to see ya, lass.”
