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“Jane Ladling,” a man called.
“That’s me!” She jumped up, raising her arm school-kid style. “I’m Jane. Conrad’s fiancé.”
One of the deputies stood in the entrance, his features etched with exhaustion. “Please come with me.”
She rose on shaking legs and rushed to his side.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Everything’s a symbol if you try. Each minute detail should mean something. Even a ham sandwich.
Y’all Write Now–Advice for New Writers
by Tabby Paynes-Murksand
Jane peppered the deputy with questions as they strode along the sterile corridor. “How is he? How’s the deputy? What poison was used? Why aren’t you replying to me?”
He stopped and opened a door. “I’ll let him explain.”
Him? Conrad or a doctor? Stomach churning, Jane hurried into the room. Conrad! He sat alone, reclining on a gurney. He was pale with bruises under his eyes and unease etched in his features, but he was awake. Alive!
Whimpering, she rushed to his side and grabbed his hand. “You aren’t dead!”
“As if I would allow some pesky fireman to swoop in and win you over. Also, the curse did not do this. A living, breathing criminal did.”
And yet guilt assailed her. Once she’d vowed to never again permit the curse rule her world. Then he’d almost died, and everything had changed. “But?—”
“No buts,” he told her, his rough voice firm. “I’ll make a full recovery without any side-effects. Please don’t ice me out. You asked me to marry you, and there are no take backs.”
Some unnamable emotion squeezed her chest, constricting her ribs. “But?—”
“No buts,” he repeated.
Tears welled. As her chin trembled, the hot droplets spilled over and glided down her cheeks. Different emotions spiked and crashed. Everything she’d felt since the love of her life had first fallen into her arms. Fear. Desperation. Confusion. Anger. Uncertainty. Frustration. Agitation. Relief. They congealed, blending with things she’d battled her entire life. Issues that decided to bubble up, one after the other.
The rejection of her dad, who’d never wanted to be part of her world.
The mother who’d shipped her off to live with her grandparents.
The dread of the curse.
The years of loneliness after Beau moved out of town. Zero other peers had been willing to hang out with the weird cemetery girl who hoped to plan their funerals.
The misery of losing her beloved Pops and Grandma Lily.
The need to prove herself worthy of affection.
A giant wrecking ball formed, shattering her façade of calm.
Jane sobbed. Conrad, bless him, found the strength to settle her atop the gurney at his side. He petted her hair and cooed sweet words in her ear until she quieted.
“I love you,” he told her. “I’m here to stay. Even if you attempt to postpone the wedding, I’m not going anywhere. Deputy Poteet is good, too. We’ll both make a full recovery.”
Good. Too raw to discuss next steps, she croaked, “Tell me about the case.” Because whoever hurt her man was going down hard.
He kissed her temple. “Here’s what I know. It wasn’t poison I inhaled, but a very potent heart medication that was ground into powder and mixed with the glitter. Not a beta blocker, but similar, used to quickly slow down a too fast heartbeat. Only takes a little to do the job.”
Okay, this might be the break they’d needed. “Medication is traceable.” Paramedics had access. Firefighters too? Patients, definitely.
