Part 29 (2/2)

Dallas entered the screened porch, wiped his feet on the mat, and removed his coat. He should put on water for tea. When Genny woke, she'd want something warm to drink. And he'd fix sandwiches for supper. She probably wouldn't want anything to eat, but he'd encourage her to put a little something in her stomach.

After hanging his coat on the rack on the porch, he went into the kitchen and began preparations for their evening meal. Before the teakettle whistled, he heard Drudwyn yowling and knew Genny was awake and playing with the wolf-dog. Quickly, he prepared a cup of tea. As he carried the mug down the hall, he thought about how unlike him it was to be smothering a woman with tender, loving care. In his relations.h.i.+ps, the TLC was usually directed at him. Women tended to chase him, and when they thought they had even the slightest chance of catching him, they'd smother him with attention. This was the first time in his life that he'd been the giver and not the taker.

He grunted as he paused outside Genny's bedroom. Funny thing was, he'd never cared enough about a woman before to concern himself with her needs beyond s.e.xual satisfaction. Genny was different.

G.o.d, what an understatement!

When he entered the bedroom, he found her sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace. She had her arm draped around Drudwyn's neck and was stroking him lovingly.

”Feeling better?” he asked.

She looked up at him and smiled. ”I'm feeling fine.” She eyed the mug he held. ”Is that for me?”

”Hot tea.” He brought the mug to her.

”Thank you.” She accepted his offering, then lifted the mug to her lips and took several tiny sips.

He reached down and skimmed his hand over her hair, from earlobe to shoulder. ”Drink your tea while I go back in the kitchen and put together a couple of sandwiches for us.”

”I'm really not very hungry.”

”Then you'll eat what you can,” he told her. ”But you're going to eat.”

”Yes, yu ne ga, I will obey,” Genny said teasingly.

”What did you call me?” he asked.

Genny laughed. ”I called you a white man.”

”Well, I am a white man, so I guess that wasn't an insult.” He grinned. ”What is it that Jacob calls you? I gi go?”

”I gi do,” Genny corrected. ”It means sister in the Cherokee language.”

Suddenly Dallas felt a twinge of jealousy that she shared so much with her cousin Jacob, that he even had a pet name for her. ”Maybe I should learn the Cherokee language,” Dallas told her as he started to leave.

”Do you want to know a name I would like for you to call me?” she asked.

He paused when he reached the doorway, then glanced over his shoulder. ”What would you like for me to call you?”

”A qua da li i.”

Dallas repeated the words. ”What does it mean?”

”I'll tell you...someday.”

Genny's smile brightened the whole room. h.e.l.l, it brightened his whole world.

”I could ask Jacob.”

”You could. But you won't.”

”Drink your tea,” he told her. ”I'll be back in a little while with your supper.”

”I can come to the kitchen.”

”All right, if you feel up to it.”

”I'll come with you now. I need to put out feed for the birds and other animals. They'll be expecting it.”

”Tell me where you keep the feed sacks and-”

”They won't take food if anyone else has touched it.”

Dallas grimaced. ”I should have known.”

When Genny rose to her feet and followed Dallas, Drudwyn galloped after her. Once in the kitchen, Dallas set about preparing their sandwiches while Genny went out onto the back porch. She removed a huge feed sack from a wooden storage box near the stack of firewood; then she filled four bowls and stacked them one on top of the other and set them on the floor. After removing her coat from the wall rack and putting it on, she picked up the bowls.

When she swung open the screen door with her hip, Drudwyn dashed outside. Balancing the bowls with both hands, Genny walked out into the backyard. The screen door flopped shut with a loud bang. Dallas dropped the b.u.t.ter knife he was using to spread mustard on the bread slices and ran after her.

”Genny, wait,” he called. ”I don't want you-”

The shot rang out in the hushed stillness of twilight. Dallas yelled her name. Suddenly he felt as if heavy weights were attached to his ankles. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. He heard the shot. He heard his own voice echoing inside his head. He saw Genny balk, then grab her shoulder and lean to one side. He saw Drudwyn take off like a rocket, chasing something-or someone.

Genny crumpled into a heap on the ground. When Dallas reached her, she lay still and unmoving. He knelt beside her, saw the blood staining the back of her coat, and was forced to accept the fact that she'd been shot. Someone had shot her. In her own backyard. With a big, brave FBI agent guarding her.

He held her in his arms for several seconds before his training kicked in. He checked her vital signs. Weak. But she was still alive. He had two choices: get Genny to the hospital immediately or follow Drudwyn's lead and chase after the person who had shot her.

Dallas scooped Genny up off the ground. As far as he was concerned there was really only one choice. The only thing that mattered right now was Genny.

Chapter 24.

Jazzy placed her hand on Dallas Sloan's back. He tensed immediately but didn't turn to face her. Ever since she'd arrived at Cherokee County General last night, she hadn't heard Dallas utter a single word. The small waiting room was filled to capacity with people who loved Genny. Jacob. Sally and Ludie. Royce. Wallace. Brian. And dozens of people had come and gone during the long night, offering prayers and a.s.sistance. Numerous Cherokee County folks had telephoned, as had ministers from the Baptist church and the Methodist church, even though Genny wasn't a member of either denomination. The nurse's aides had brought out coffee several times and offered to bring food up from the snack bar. Anyone who knew Genny thought she was special. The entire county cared what happened to her.

And no one, absolutely no one, could understand why anybody would want to harm such a kind, gentle, and loving soul.

When Jacob called her last night, Jazzy had rushed to the ER, but too late to see Genny before they carried her to surgery. She'd found Jacob sitting quietly, his head bowed and his eyes closed, in the surgery waiting area on the second floor. Dallas had been pacing outside in the hall. When she'd spoken to him, he hadn't even noticed her.

Jacob had explained what had happened, at least what little he'd been able to get out of Dallas. ”I've got a team up there at the house now searching for evidence all around,” he'd said. ”This wasn't what we were expecting. There's no way we could have known. Dallas is blaming himself and nothing I've said to him has convinced him otherwise.”

After endless hours of waiting and praying, they'd heard good news. Genny had come through surgery with flying colors, and the doctor a.s.sured them she would recover fully. The bullet had entered her back and exited her shoulder, but hadn't struck anything vital. Jazzy had expected Dallas to react the way she and Jacob had-with happy relief. Instead, he'd fled. She didn't know where he'd gone, but she suspected he had sought a place of solitude where he could be alone. The bathroom? The chapel? He'd probably puked. Or cried. Or offered a prayer of thanks. Maybe all three.

Now, at four-fifty in the morning, Jazzy stood behind Dallas at the end of the hallway where he stared out the window into the darkness. She patted his back. ”They're going to let us go in to see her in a few minutes.”

He nodded, but still didn't turn around.

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