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“You’ve sustained some injuries.”
She knew that much. If she could’ve laughed, she would have. Every bone in her body seemed to be broken. “I’m…I’m on fire.”
“That’s the pain. We’re taking care of it.”
A needle pricked her arm. Painkiller. This would dull the pain but would also make it impossible to think clearly. And she wanted to be able to talk, to explain what Paris had done, and to understand what she heard in reply.
Swallowing, her throat gritty with dust, she forced her mouth to form more words. “Wh-what happened…to her?”
“The woman who tried to run you down?”
“Yes.”
“There’s only the two of you out here?”
She licked dry lips. “Yes.”
“She sustained a head injury but she’s in better shape than you are.”
“She…she tried to kill me. She…should be…arrested.” Francesca sucked air into her lungs as they lifted her onto a gurney.
“Don’t worry,” the EMT assured her. “The motorist who called in the incident was an off-duty cop. He kept a good eye on her until the cavalry arrived. She’ll go to the hospital, be checked out and then released to the police. Everything’s under control.”
About half of what he said went right over her head, but she grasped that Paris was where she needed to be, at last. She let her eyelids slide closed but couldn’t rest. She wanted Jonah. “Will—will you…find Jonah Young for me? Please?”
“Careful. Watch that edge.” The EMT was speaking to someone else Francesca hadn’t even realized was there, a partner. Obviously preoccupied, he was trying to get her into the ambulance. But she didn’t want to go to the hospital or anywhere without telling Jonah how she felt about him. Just in case…
The painkiller was already making her thoughts fuzzy, her tongue thick, but she managed to grab hold of the EMT’s sleeve. “Jonah…”
“Ma’am, you need to relax.”
Tears rolled into Francesca’s hair. Jonah wasn’t around. She couldn’t tell him, had to go through this alone. She was just trying to come to terms with that when a police officer approached the back of the ambulance. “She able to talk?”
“Not really,” the EMT responded. “Why?”
“I’ve got a Jonah Young on the phone. He wants to speak to her.”
The EMT shut one door of the ambulance and was about to shut the other. “He’ll have to do it later. She’s got a few broken bones and might have suffered some internal injuries. We need to get her to the hospital.”
“Wait!” Francesca tried to sit up and fell back. From then on, it became even harder to drag words to her mouth. “Let me…talk…to…him.”
She knew she’d said it, but didn’t know how her words were received. She seemed to be fading in and out of consciousness. It was the pain, the drugs, the shock. And then, seemingly out of nowhere, she felt a phone pressed to her ear and heard a voice she immediately recognized.
“Francesca?”
“Jonah…I—I’m…sorry. I…want…to be…with you…for ever,” she said, and then she slipped into a black void. When she came out of it again, it seemed as if hours, maybe days, had passed. But Jonah was there.
“Hey, how do you feel?” he asked, hovering over her hospital bed.
She managed a half smile. “Better now.” Her voice was hoarse from disuse. “Am I…am I going to live?”
“You’re going to be as good as new,” he promised, and leaned down to kiss her forehead.
EPILOGUE
“What about these flowers? Aren’t you going to take them?”
Leaning on the crutches that made her mobile despite a broken leg, Francesca hesitated near the hospital bed where she’d spent the past few days and glanced at her mother. Every other bouquet she’d received was waiting in the back of Jonah’s Jeep Cherokee—the small teddy bear and single rose from Heather, the tiger lilies from her parents, the wheelbarrow plant from Hunsacker and Finch, the vase of wildflowers from Jill and Vince, and several dozen red roses from Jonah. But these flowers were from Adriana, who’d sent them instead of calling or stopping by.
