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He recognized a fear response when he saw one.
"I know."
"See the counselor at the precinct within two days," Daniel told her. "But it was a good shoot. We all saw that. IA will clear you quickly."
"Sure they will. No one wants publicity right now. Especially considering...I’m part of the governor's new family. I get it. I don’t want the damned Garlic going to town about my family again. It’s just now starting to die off. A Coleson is good for clicks and advertising revenue, you know."
There was that woman's cynical side. He had to wonder what had given her that worldview. Then again, after what he'd heard she'd been through, maybe it was deserved. And this job had a way of jading the soul. No denying that.
"Foster, take her to FCGH. Get that sewn up. Then drive her home."
Jarrod was a good boy. He did as instructed, practically hustling that woman to his SUV. He had almost lost his partner tonight. He didn’t take that lightly.
More than that, those baby Heathers had almost lost their mommy tonight. That left him beyond a little shaken. He could only imagine how she felt right now.
She pulled in a shuddering breath. "I can handle this myself, you know."
"Honey, I drove us to the party, remember? You'd have been stuck with me anyway." He shot a look at her. She was so damned stoic.
It was all a front.
He'd seen the real Heather Coleson today at that BBQ. He'd seen the fear for her sister when Hope had gotten hurt, the love for her daughters when she’d held them, the joy she took from her sisters and her nieces. He had her figured out all right, now. Heather was a softie inside. She just acted all big and bad. Probably because she thought she had to.
She still scared him to his toes, though. "Talk to me. Talk to one of your sisters. Or Miguel. Just don't bottle up. We've almost all been there."
"It isn't my first. I had been on the job two years," she finally said quietly. She was going on year eleven or twelve, he thought. "There were…other times. Some fatal."
"Five. Two were fatal." And he would never forget. He would do the same again, if the circumstances were repeated. He'd saved lives.
That was what he told himself when the nightmares became too much.
He parked. Walked in with his partner.
Someone called her name. Jarrod turned. Her sister, the short blonde, was barreling down on them. Her face showed her worry when she saw the blood on her sister.
"I'm good, Joy. Just a little graze. No use hiding what it is. Things got a little close tonight—but the good guys won this time."
Her sister nodded. She'd been a cop's wife, Jarrod had heard. She understood.
She’d been a cop’s wife. And that cop had been murdered by Gregory Eastman. No wonder there were so many nightmares in her eyes, too.
"I'll get someone to get you started with the paperwork. I was just on my way upstairs to check on Horrible Hope before I head back to the house. I was checking on a patient."
"How is Hope?" Heather asked. She’d mentioned checking on her sister as soon as she could. He half suspected she intended to hide in the younger woman’s room tonight.
"They are going to keep her an extra day. Bonnie-Mom is freaking a bit."
"Why are they keeping her? The surgery went fine, right? Is she okay?" Heather had tensed immediately. The fear was on her face again. She was a wee bit overprotective over the Hope-gremlin, he had noticed before.
"Hope's heartbeat has been erratic for the last three hours. Not a great deal, but enough that Jeo—Dr. Stockton is being cautious. There is a concern she's reacting to the anesthesia. It's just a precaution, Heath. I promise. Had Bonnie-Mom not been freaking so badly—you know how she is when it’s Hope or Cashie—Jeoffrey probably wouldn’t have kept Hope past tomorrow morning."
Jarrod just stood back. Until it was time to take Heather home.
By the time he had given Heather over to the collection of gorgeous women she called family, he was exhausted.
He wanted to get back to the Barratts, with his little rabbit. But first...
He had one Gunnar Erickson to find.
