The Bride Wore A Forty-Four Read online

  The memory faded, and she was kneeling beside Michael, lifting his head, searching his body. Blood pulsed from a chest wound, and she pressed her hand to it to slow it down.

  "Michael," she whispered. "Open your eyes. Listen to me. You are not dying, do you hear me? You are not leaving me, not now."

  His eyes opened. He seemed short of breath, but focused, conscious, aware.

  "I love you, Michael," she told him. "I don't just remember loving you, I feel it, maybe more so now than ever before. I love you so much it's overwhelming. It's all-consuming. Don't leave me."

  He smiled weakly.

  "Michael, I remember that final day. I remember what happened before I lost consciousness. I found Dad. He lay there, dying, but with his final breaths, he gave us his blessing. He said you were the best man he'd ever known. He loved you, you know."

  Closing his eyes slowly, Michael whispered, "Thank you for that It means...so much."

  "It isn't gonna mean a damn thing if you don't hang on for me. God, Michael, I've been so empty. Walking around like a hollow shell. A body without a soul. And I know what was missing, now, Michael, because I've found it again. It was us. It was you."

  She waited for his reply, but there, wasn't one. He'd passed out Or died.

  She heard something then—the cell phone, ringing. She dug it from Michael's pocket and hit the button. "Where the hell are you guys?"

  "Kira? Holy, shit Kira, you almost sound like your old self."

  She recognized Kelly's voice, not as her mother's housekeeper, but as a colleague. "I'm back," Kira told her. "The bad guys are dead, and Michael is down. We need a chopper."

  "We're on the way," Kelly barked. Then, more softly, "Welcome home, Kira."

  She was holding his hand, having put in the longest night of her life, when he woke in the hospital bed. He looked around the room, looked at her, smiled a little, and it even reached his eyes. "Hey, beautiful."

  She was far from beautiful, she thought Though her mother had brought her a change of clothes, she'd refused to leave her husband's bedside long enough to shower. Her mom brought her a basin of warm water, some soap, and deodorant then stood guard at the door while she washed up beside the bed.

  She looked down at the clothes her mother had chosen. A dressy pantsuit far from her usual attire. "Not exactly what I would have chosen," Kira said.

  "I do love you in leather," he said. "Better out of it, though."

  His voice was coarse, and she reached for the water pitcher, poured some into a glass, and then held the flexible straw to his lips.

  He drank, then let his head rest on the pillows.

  "How are you feeling?" she asked.

  "Weak as a kitten. A little groggy. Not sure if I'm remembering what really happened, or if it's a bad case of wishful thinking."

  She leaned over him, pressed her mouth to his. "You want me to climb into that bed and refresh your memory?"

  He smiled against her lips. "Damn straight I do, so long as you don't mind doing all the work."

  "I always liked being on top," she said.

  Then she sat on the edge of his bed, better to cradle his head to her chest. "You're gonna be okay," she told him. "They got the bullet out of your chest. It missed your heart. You'll be fine."

  "I've never been more glad to be alive, Kira."

  "Neither have I." She sat up a little, but couldn't keep her hands off him, and so she stroked his shoulders, upper arms, occasionally his face as she spoke. "I had a long talk with Mom," she said. "Explained to her that I've been a deep-cover DEA agent for the past five years and that the whole thing with Peter was just a ploy to bust him for drug trafficking, and I was already married. To you."

  "Must have broken her heart."

  Kira smiled widely. "You know what she said?" She went on without waiting for an answer. "She said she kept wishing I wasn't engaged, because she would have managed to throw you and me together. She loved you from the minute she met you—in your guise as wedding planner."

  "She said that?"

  She drew an X across her chest with a forefinger. He nodded, smiling.

  Then his smile died and he looked at her neck, frowning. "Where's...?"

  "My ring?" She held up her hand, showing him her wedding band, resting right where it belonged, on her finger. "I told you before, Michael. I love you. I want our life back. I want you back."

  He closed his hand around hers. "You never lost me, babe." He glanced toward the door. "So you gonna lock that door and climb into this bed with me or what?"

  She smiled, got to her feet, and went to the door, then she came slowly back to the bed, still smiling. "Now, you've been injured," she said. "I don't want to do anything that might hurt you. So I want you to lie perfectly still. Understand?"

  "I'll do my best."

  She kissed his jawline, his neck, and reached her hand underneath the covers to stroke him. "You just let me take care of you."

  "Anytime," he said. "But there will be payback."

  She squeezed him. "Oh, I'm counting on it"

  If you liked The Bride Wore A Forty-Four, check out Maggie’s new witch series, THE PORTAL.

  Coming September 2012!

  About the Author

  New York Times bestselling author Maggie Shayne has published more than 50 novels and 23 novellas. She has written for 7 publishers and 2 soap operas, has racked up 15 Rita Award nominations and actually, finally, won the damn thing in 2005.

  Maggie lives in a beautiful, century old, happily haunted farmhouse named “Serenity” in the wildest wilds of Cortland County, NY, with her soul-mate, Lance. They share a pair of English Mastiffs, Dozer & Daisy, and a little English Bulldog, Niblet, and the wise guardian and guru of them all, the feline Glory, who keeps the dogs firmly in their places. Maggie’s a Wiccan high priestess (legal clergy even) and an avid follower of the Law of Attraction

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