The cabin came into view and Gracie gasped. “Call the fire department.”
“Gracie, what—”
“I have to see what I can save.”
“Gracie!”
But she couldn’t listen to Laurel tell her it was dangerous. She clicked the phone off and stared at Will’s pretty little cabin up in flames. Whatever evidence he’d collected over the years likely going up with it.
She couldn’t let that happen.
* * *
WILL KNEW HE was being an ass to the nurses. He felt a modicum of guilt, but no one would let him out of here and he didn’t think that was legal. The only thing keeping him in this obnoxious bed was the fact he wasn’t quite desperate enough to rip the IV out of his arm.
He eyed the needle attached to his broken arm. Surely it couldn’t be that difficult to take it off. He peeled one side of the tape off, but before he could start experimenting with medical equipment removal, his door flew open.
Not gently or with a knock like the nurses did either, and visiting hours were over. Gracie had never returned with his computer, but he figured she’d taken a much-needed nap and he’d get his hands on it tomorrow.
Instead, Gracie stumbled into his room as if she’d been pushed, and he frowned because there were black smudges over the same clothes she’d been wearing this morning. It looked like she’d had the same black on her face and tried to wash it off but instead left a streaky kind of gray complexion.
Laurel was behind her looking furious.
“What’s going on?” he demanded.
Laurel jerked her chin at him. “Tell him,” she ordered.
Gracie heaved a sigh, looking at her feet, then the window, anywhere but at him or Laurel.
“There was a bit of an incident,” Gracie said cryptically.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Well, when I got to your cabin...” She cleared her throat. “It was on fire.”
He struggled to sit up straighter. “Fire. What? I don’t...”
“She’s leaving out quite a few pieces of the story,” Laurel said, anger and frustration written on every line of her face. Which was weird, because mostly he’d only ever seen Laurel cool and calm and detached. Cop-like. This was not any of those things.
“I drove up to your cabin, and when I got there—”
“Before she got there a strange vehicle came down the mountain from your cabin, shot at her—”
“At my car. I don’t think they saw me.”
Laurel flung her arms up in the air, as agitated as he’d ever seen the woman. “I can’t believe you’re being so ridiculous. You are too smart for this, Gracie Delaney.”
“You are overreacting, Laurel Delaney. My God, I am a grown woman and—”
“Someone needs to tell me what the hell is going on,” Will demanded.
“—you can’t boss me around anymore. I’m not your ward and I never was.”
“I am not trying to boss you around. I’m your cousin. I love you. You—”
“Ladies,” he said fiercely.
“—were reckless and foolish and you need some damn sleep.”
“I will—”
Finally he used his fingers to whistle as long and as loud as he could. Both women glared at him, but at least they’d stopped yelling over each other.
“I want an explanation and I want it now since apparently my house was on fire and Gracie is covered in...” His brain clicked to the most horrible thought possible. “You weren’t in the cabin, were you?”
“Well, not...not exactly.”
“Stop talking in riddles,” he said between clenched teeth, grasping the IV tower to fight the impulse to cross the room and give her a little shake.
“When I saw the cabin was on fire, I... Well, I carefully poked around to see if I could get to your comp—”
“You did what?” Will demanded, jumping out of bed.
“Sit down,” Gracie and Laurel ordered in unison.
He didn’t sit down, but he didn’t move toward them since he was in a ridiculous hospital gown. He stood next to his bed, furious, and holding on to the damn IV tower with everything he had.
“What possessed you to risk your life for anything in that place?” he said, doing his best to speak normally instead of a growl. It didn’t go so well.
Gracie turned to Laurel. “Would you give us a few minutes alone?” When Laurel only scowled, Gracie reached out and squeezed her cousin’s arm. “Please.”
Laurel huffed out a breath. “Fine. But I’m right outside, and in ten minutes you are done here. Ten minutes and we are getting you some dinner and a bed to sleep in.”
Gracie nodded, then just stood there as Laurel marched out of the hospital room. Finally she turned to face him, a paltry smile curving her lips. “So, how are you?”
She was standing there covered in black soot. She’d been... He could picture it all too well and it made him sick to his stomach. “What were you thinking?”
“It was your evidence. Two years of your life. I was careful. I’m not stupid. But I had to try.”
“This isn’t your fight. You shouldn’t have... You shouldn’t have done that, Gracie. It was just things. You could’ve...” So many could’ves and they all horrified him down to his soul.
“What does it matter?” she asked, and it finally clicked why her voice sounded all wrong. She’d inhaled smoke.
What did it matter? She’d risked herself and... “It matters. Of course it matters.”
“Why? You don’t care about me.”
She could’ve shot him for the force of that blow. “Gracie,” he exhaled.
“I’m not saying you actively wish me harm, but I’m kind of nothing to you. A means to an end. So I was being your means, and in the end I didn’t do anything. I couldn’t get to the computer.” She shrugged, and he couldn’t read her at all. “So, I don’t know why you’re scolding me or why it matters.”
He could only stand there and stare at her. She wasn’t making any sense, and he just wanted... He just... There was something all twisted up in his chest or his gut and he couldn’t unwind it. He couldn’t make sense of how much he didn’t like her saying you don’t care about me.
“I did what I had to do,” she continued in that same maddeningly even voice, like this wasn’t messed up. “I was careful. I don’t need scolding or disapproval. I’m a grown woman. You should be more concerned about the fact someone burned your cabin down.”
“I’m more concerned about the fact someone shot at you and then you decided to run into a burning building.”
She folded her arms across her chest, her nose going up in the air. “Those are gross exaggerations.”
Screw the hospital gown. He crossed the room because maybe erasing the space between them would help him make sense of her.
But she was standing there, soot covered and exhaustedly pale. “You will not risk your safety for this. Do you understand me?”
“What I understand is you’re not the boss of me, Will. You’re not the anything of me.”
That