Page 18 of A Ranger for Christmas
“I’ll give my all. I’d hate to miss your world-famous pork tamales.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say they’re world-famous, but they’ve won their fair share of blue ribbons.”
Sherry had graduated from culinary school and worked as a chef before she’d married and quit her job to stay home with her boys, now six, eight, and ten. She was working on a cookbook but joked she was lucky to scratch out five hours a week of work time.
“I’ll do my best.”
“That’s all I can ask.” Since their folks died, Sherry had done her best to create occasions that included him. Birthdays, Fourth of July, Thanksgiving, and Christmas were all showstopper events. Family was important to her. It was important to him, as well.
He rang off and headed into the hospital. Removing his hat, he entered through the hospital’s double doors, immediately greeted by the buzz of machines, the hum of conversations, and the controlled chaos of an emergency room. He found the nurses’ station, identified himself, and learned that Marisa had been moved to a room. She was conscious but still very confused.
Hat in hand, he moved along the hallway, steeling himself as he pushed open the door. He’d hoped to find her alone but instead discovered a couple at her bedside. The man was tall and gray-haired and had Marisa’s eyes. The woman was in her early forties, blond with flawless makeup, clothes that sparkled a little, and big jewelry. Dad and stepmom.
Lucas’s gaze barreled past them to Marisa, who lay in her bed. She was awake, but her skin was as pale as the sheets, and she sported a dark bruise on her left cheek. She looked small and fragile. Her gaze didn’t burn with the sharp curiosity he’d grown to like, but had a vacant dull look instead. Her eyes drifted closed.
The man moved in front of Lucas. “I’m Daniel Thompson. And you are?”
“Texas Ranger Lucas Cooper.”
“Marisa said she was working on a project for the Rangers when we spoke last night. She said the project was why she was running late.” Anger rumbled under the man’s words like thunder before a storm.
The blonde moved to stand beside her husband. She placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Marisa loves her work. Puzzles excite her, Daniel.”
Daniel’s jaw clenched. “Until now, dead languages have held her interest. I don’t like her traipsing around in the jungle looking for ruins, but at least that’s territory she understands. She takes your job and the next day she ends up in the hospital.”
Guilt banded his chest. “I’m investigating the accident.”
“It was no accident. Marisa was mumbling about being run off the road before her MRI. Who would run her off the road?”
Lucas would not allow this guilt to muddle his thoughts. Later, he’d second-guess and worry. For now, he had to remain on point. “I will find who did this to her, make no mistake about that.”
Daniel shook his head. “I can’t believe we’re here.”
Lucas hesitated, staring at Marisa as if willing her to see him. She blinked, studied him, but there was no recognition. “How’s she?”
“She’s got a bad concussion. Her thoughts are rattled and confused.”
“She’ll get better.” Not a question but a statement.
“That’s the hope.” Daniel drew in a steadying breath. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave. It’s too much stress on Marisa to have people here.”
Lucas kept his gaze on Marisa, wanting to hold her hand and tell her it would be all right. But Daniel was right. His job was to track the man who did this. He didn’t belong here.
An hour later, Lucas removed his hat as he passed through the arches of Garrison Hall on the campus of the University of Texas. The ninety-year-old building, in the shade of the Texas Tower, housed the history department as well as Marisa’s second-floor office. No doubt, if Marisa were at his side, she’d explain to him all the architectural nuances and give him a history lesson behind the names etched in the building’s stone façade. But Marisa wasn’t here. She was in a hospital.
Pushing his anger back, he approached a campus policeman, who stood just a little straighter. “Dr. Thompson’s office.”
“You here about the break-in?”
He received the call a half hour ago. Marisa Thompson’s office had been ransacked. “Yes.”
He took the stairs to the second floor and quickly noticed the collection of officers hovering outside a small side office. His stride was purposeful and direct as he approached the head of campus police.
The man easily recognized the garb of a Texas Ranger, and his eyes sparked with some pride as if glad to be involved in a case that caught a Ranger’s attention.
“I’m Officer Stewart,” the man said. “I wasn’t expecting a Texas Ranger.”
“Ranger Lucas Cooper. Can you tell me what happened?”
