“No secrets. I promise.” Except how attracted she was to him. But every woman deserved to keep a few thoughts to herself.
Josh settled back in the deep leather seat. Tory took a deep breath as the wheels started rolling down the runway. A few minutes later they were airborne. The flight smoothed out. While Josh fetched a couple of sodas from the galley, Tory pulled out a deck of cards.
“Any chance you like to play poker? Or I can just play solitaire.”
His interest sharpened. “You play poker?”
“My dad taught me when I was a kid. Three Card Stud or Texas Hold ’Em?”
Josh eyed her with suspicion. “Texas Hold ’Em. What are the stakes?”
Clothes sounded good, but getting naked on Lincoln Cain’s fancy jet was probably not a good idea. “How about toothpicks? I saw a box of them in the galley.”
Josh unfastened his seat belt and got up from his chair. “Good a way as any to pass the time.”
They played till the plane started its descent. Unfortunately, the game ended with the two of them nearly even, which impressed Josh and insulted her. She didn’t tell him she was way out of practice and he was in for trouble the next time they played.
The landing at the Scottsdale Airport was smooth, just the brush of wheels before the plane settled and taxied down the runway. At the executive terminal, they picked up the vehicle Josh had rented from Avis, a black Jeep Cherokee, and headed for the hospital.
Scottsdale Memorial, a beige, four-story stucco building constructed in a flat-roofed, high desert style, loomed ahead. Josh parked the Jeep in the lot and they went inside. Tory felt his hand at her waist as they walked up to a woman with short-bobbed, faded gray hair sitting behind a computer screen at the front desk.
“We’re here to see Lisa Shane,” Josh said. “Where can we find her?”
The woman typed in the name. “Ms. Shane is in intensive care. Take the elevator up to the second floor, turn right, and head down the hall. You’ll see a nurses’ station. They can give you more information there.”
“Thank you.” They started in that direction, Josh walking beside her, his features unusually stiff.
“How long were you in the hospital after you were wounded?” Tory asked, sensing the problem.
“Two months. I was lucky.”
“You consider spending two months in the hospital lucky?”
His eyes found hers. “I was lucky to be alive. Some of my friends didn’t make it.”
“I’m so sorry, Josh.”
“When I got back to Texas, I got involved with a program that helps wounded vets. That’s how I met Noah and Cole and a lot of other good men.”
She fell silent. No wonder he looked so grim. She remembered the story she had read about him. He’d lost good friends, spent months in the hospital. This place had to be bringing back bad memories. She wished she could have spared him, but she was glad to have him along, though clearly he would rather be home.
Home. When had she started to think of Texas as home? It was dangerous. She couldn’t afford to get attached when she might have to leave.
She thought of Ivy, how much it would hurt to tear her away from the first place she felt safe. She missed her daughter already, wondered what she and Mrs. Thompson were doing. She would call as soon as she could.
The elevator dinged and the door slid open. Josh walked her up to the nurses’ station and she spoke to a nurse in green scrubs.
“My name is Victoria Bradford. I’m here to see Lisa Shane.” She was glad she had told Josh her real name. What had happened to Lisa was a police matter. There was no way she could lie to the authorities.
“Family only,” the nurse said, a woman in her forties, heavyset with pretty gray eyes that matched her hair. “Are you family?”
“Lisa’s sister,” Josh said, before she could blurt out the truth. Apparently, she would be lying after all.
“Ms. Shane is just out of surgery. There’s a waiting room down the hall. The doctor will speak to you as soon as he gets a chance.”
“Thank you,” Tory said.
They made their way into the waiting room and sat down on a pale blue vinyl sofa. There were a couple of other people in the room, a Hispanic woman with a little boy three or four years old who sat on the floor, coloring. A pale old man with long gray hair sitting at the far end of the room, a cane propped against his knee.
