A Man Apart. Ginna Gray

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СКАЧАТЬ even your doctors—but you barely talk to any of them. You just turn away and tune them out. The few times you have bothered to speak was just to bite someone’s head off. Well, it won’t work with me. Like it or not, we’re going to talk about this.”

      “There’s nothing to talk about.”

      “Oh, no? How about the fact that you’ve refused all the offers of help you’ve received? Huh? How about that? Hank here has practically begged you to come stay with him and his wife while you recuperate. So have several others, but you’ve turned them all down flat.” He nodded toward Hank Pierson, who stood on the other side of the room watching his partner with a worried expression. “Isn’t that right, Hank?”

      “Sure is. Look, old buddy, it’s no problem. Patty and I really want you to stay with us.”

      “Patty’s got enough on her hands with three kids to look after.”

      “Hey, one more won’t bother Patty. Really. In fact, she insists. You know she thinks of you as family. We all do.”

      “Thanks all the same, but no.” Matt shook his head and looked away.

      “If you don’t want to stay with Hank and Patty, then how about someone else?” John persisted. “Several of the other guys and their wives have offered to look after you.”

      “The answer is still no. I don’t need anyone to look after me. Besides, I don’t want to impose on my friends.”

      “All right. I think you’re wrong and full of stiff-necked pride, but I understand. Trust me, though, like it or not, you will need someone to look after you when you leave here. At least for a while. So why don’t you let the department pay for a nurse to stay with you?”

      “Forget it. I don’t want some stranger in my house. Anyway, I prefer to be alone. As soon as I get those discharge papers tomorrow, I’m going home.”

      “You’re in no condition to stay in that town house alone,” John roared. “Dammit, man, you’ve got a long recuperation ahead of you, and once your body is healed you’re going to be in for some grueling rehab work before you’ll be ready to return to duty.”

      Matt snorted. “What makes you think I’ll ever be?”

      “Because I know you, you bullheaded Irishman. You’re not a quitter, any more than your old man was. And you love police work too much to throw in the towel without a fight.”

      Matt shrugged. “The doctor doesn’t share your confidence.”

      “So what does he know? You’re going to have to work your tail off for weeks, maybe even months, to pass the reentry physical, but if anyone can do it, you can.”

      Matt gave another scornful snort. “You have more faith in me than I do.”’

      “Probably, but that will change. Now, the way I see it, you’ve got two choices. You can either hire a live-in nurse or you can spend the summer up at my fishing lodge on Lake Livingston.”

      “Your fishing lodge?”

      “Why not? It’s the perfect place to recuperate. The fresh air and peace and quiet of the country will be good for you. You can go for walks in the woods and fish off the pier at first. Later, when you’re stronger, you can go sailing or take the fishing boat out onto the lake.”

      “Don’t you have tenants at the lodge?”

      “Just one right now, but that’s no problem. It’s a big place. You’ll probably never run into each other. Anyway, you can use my quarters. There’s a private entrance off the side veranda.”

      “I still don’t—”

      “This isn’t a suggestion, Dolan, it’s an order.”

      Matt bristled. “You can’t order me to do anything when I’m not on duty.”

      Smiling benignly, the lieutenant crossed his arms over his chest and rocked back on his heels. “Oh, yeah? Don’t forget, you need my permission to even take the reentry physical. You spend the summer getting well at the lodge or you can forget about working the streets again. Got that, Dolan?”

      “You’d do it, too, wouldn’t you?” Matt snarled. “You’d refuse to let me take the physical for street duty and stick me behind a desk.”

      John shrugged and spread his hands wide. “Hey. It’s up to you, Dolan. All you have to do is recuperate and get back in shape up at Lake Livingston.”

      “That’s blackmail.”

      “Maybe,” John agreed with a shrug. “But I don’t see it that way. I’m just trying to help one of my men get back on his feet.”

      “Listen to him, Matt,” Hank urged. “You gotta recuperate somewhere, and shoot, any way you look at it, that’s not bad duty. A carefree summer at a lake in a comfortable fishing lodge. If I thought Patty would allow it, I’d almost be tempted to go out and get myself shot if it meant a summer at the lake.” He paused and gave his partner a lopsided grin. “So whaddaya say?”

      A muscle worked in Matt’s jaw as his gaze slid back and forth between his two friends. Hank’s expression was coaxing. John’s, though pleasant, was adamant, and unyielding as granite.

      “Excuse me. Am I interrupting something?”

      The heads of the other two men snapped around, but Matt merely gritted his teeth. He know that drawling voice with its underlay of laughter only too well. Turning his head slowly on the pillow, he stabbed the new arrival with a hard stare.

      The man stood in the doorway, one shoulder propped against the frame, an amused smile on his roguishly handsome face. Everything about him—his loose stance, the careless panache of his attire, the smooth nonchalance—made him appear friendly and harmless, but Matt knew that beneath that laid-back charm was a sharp mind and a pitbull determination when he smelled a story.

      Their gazes locked, one pair of vivid blue eyes narrowed and hard, with no trace of welcome, the other pair twinkling with curiosity and mischief and humor. Neither wavered.

      “Who let you in here?” John snarled, putting an end to the silent battle. “I specifically told the staff that Matt’s room was off-limits to reporters.”

      “C’mon, Lieutenant. Can’t a guy drop by to see an old friend?”

      “Just because we’ve known each other for a few years doesn’t make us friends, Conway,” Matt growled.

      “All right, then, a close acquaintance. And it’s been more than a few years. More like ten or eleven.”

      “Whatever. I still don’t want you here. I have nothing to say to the press.”

      “You heard the man.”

      J. T. Conway straightened away from the doorjamb and stepped into the room, ignoring Hank’s warning. “Look, I just want to do a small piece on your recovery. The public want to know how their local hero is doing.”

      “Yeah, right. We both know that if that was all you wanted, your paper would’ve sent a СКАЧАТЬ