She sipped the water. Her throat was dry and the cold water felt good as it went down. "Joe. Tell me about Joe."

"The bullet entered his back, hit a rib, and angled upward. It didn't strike a major organ but he did lose quite a bit of blood. He had to have a transfusion." He smiled. "I was the same blood type so Quinn is now cursed with a pint of my blood. I'm sure it will annoy him no end when he becomes aware of it."

"I'm sure too." Relief was flowing through her. "He's going to live. You're certain?"

"I'm certain. It will take him a couple weeks to get back to something like normal. But I've survived worse wounds than that and I'd bet Quinn is very tough."

"Yes. Yes, he is." She closed her eyes. Thank God. "When can I see him?"

"Right now he's pretty well out of it on pain medication. Probably tomorrow. Can you go back to sleep now? The doctor said that rest is the best medicine for-"

"No." Her eyes flew open. "Galen?"

"Galen is the one who saw the shooter and took him out. He wasn't hurt at all."

"Then I want to see him."

"I thought you would." He took the glass of water and put it on the nightstand. "I'll send him to you in three hours. No sooner. I want you to get that nap that Dr. Diego recommended."

"I want to see him now."

"Then you'll have to crawl out of that bed, search the house, and risk injuring yourself. In which case you'd be no good to Galen or your Joe." He started for the door. "We'll talk later after you finish being reassured by someone you trust." He glanced back over his shoulder as he opened the door. "Remember, the first bullet was for you."

"But it didn't kill me," she said bluntly. "And it took Joe out of the picture. That's what you wanted."

He shook his head. "I was hoping you wouldn't explore that path but I should have known you would, considering how clever you are. Ask Galen whether that bullet would have killed you if Quinn hadn't interfered."

"Don't worry. I will."

He smiled ruefully and inclined his head. "I expect nothing less of you, Eve."

He left the bedroom.

Damn him. She didn't want to lie here in this bed and be bombarded by worry about Joe. She wanted to see him. Galen would help her to see him. She lifted herself on her elbow and then fell back as pain shot through her head.

Maybe not now. Montalvo was right. She'd have to crawl out of this bed if she tried to get up.

Three hours. Montalvo had promised to send Galen in three hours…

Galen.

He smiled down at her as she opened her eyes. "It's about time, luv. I was just going to give you a good shake."

"You would not." She tried to smile. "Or I'd have a very firm word with you. My head is very fragile at the moment."

His smile faded. "I don't doubt it. You had me scared when I ran over there and saw the two of you drenched in blood."

"Drenched?"

"Well, perhaps not quite. But in my heightened state it appeared that way."

"I want to see Joe."

He nodded. "I suspected as much. He's better today. He's still going in and out of consciousness but he won't scare you like he would have yesterday when you first woke up."

She frowned. "Yesterday? I woke up three hours ago."

"I beg to disagree. Montalvo sent me in here yesterday but you weren't stirring. So I've been checking every few hours and waiting for you to wake up."

"It doesn't seem possible." But she did feel better. Her head was less painful, her thinking was sharper. "Did he drug me?"

"I wouldn't know. I wouldn't put it past him." He shrugged. "Or maybe it was just Mother Nature who put you out. You were pretty messed up." He gazed at her critically. "You still look weak as a kitten. Suppose I get Miguel to bring you some soup and then we'll make the attempt to see Joe. I have no desire to have you fainting and forcing me to lug you around."

"And I have no intention of-" But she still felt weak. "Okay, soup sounds fine. Thank you."

She watched him leave the room before she carefully sat up in bed. A little dizziness but it passed quickly and she swung her legs to the floor. Get to the bathroom, wash her face and brush her teeth.

Slowly.

Her legs felt like spaghetti.

But by the time she reached the bathroom she felt stronger. By the time she finished cleaning up she felt almost like a human being again.

"Eve?" Galen was knocking on the door.

"I'm okay." She threw open the door. "I feel better now."

"You look better." He handed her a pair of khakis, underwear, and a loose white shirt. "I rifled your suitcase. I'll help you dress when you finish your soup."

"That won't be necess-" Screw being independent. She had to get to Joe and she'd take any help that would be necessary. "We'll see." She dropped the clothes on the bottom of the bed and climbed back under the covers with a sigh of relief. She felt as tired as if she'd run the Boston Marathon. "For God's sake, it's only a glancing wound. But it doesn't feel that way."

"It's a head wound, and concussion isn't just a minor inconvenience." Galen tucked the covers around her. "And an inch to the left and we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"Could it have been a deliberate miss?"

"No, you were the target. And I hate to toot my own horn but if I hadn't tackled that son of a bitch at just that second you'd have been with the angels."

Or Bonnie. Her Bonnie.

"You don't look upset," Galen said. "It's the truth, Eve."

She shook her head to clear it. "I know, Galen. Tell me what happened."

"I was cruising around and I spotted someone moving toward the path where I'd left you and Quinn. He was kneeling and aiming his rifle, drawing a bead, when I got close enough to see him. I reached him in seconds but he got off two shots before I put him down."

"You weren't hurt at all?"

He shook his head. "But he wasn't easy and he was a professional. I might not have been able to save your necks if he hadn't been concentrating so completely on the shot."

"Montalvo's men are professionals."

He studied her expression. "You want that shooter to be one of Montalvo's men. Why?"

"It's not that I want it to be him. I have to question everything Montalvo does." Because too much was riding on whether she could trust Montalvo. "What happened after you spoiled that shot?"

"I broke the bastard's neck. Then I ran over to you to see if you were both still alive. By that time Soldono was there checking you out. He called Montalvo and got his guy Miguel, and a team of men out there at top speed. They brought the two of you back to the compound and had their medics do emergency procedures. They sent for Dr. Diego, who lives in the village, and he was here within the hour."

"And the shooter?"

"Miguel thought he recognized him as one of Diaz's men. Paulo Duarte. Very lethal. Very nasty. Diaz saves him for special jobs that require-"

"How do you know Miguel is telling the truth?"

"A good question." Miguel was standing in the doorway with a smile on his face and a tray in his hands. "I would lie for the Colonel. There's no question about that being true." He came forward. "It's also true that I'm very happy that you're looking better. I was worried about you." He set the tray down on the bedside table. "So was the Colonel. He wouldn't leave your side until he was sure you were out of danger."

"I'm sure that wasn't entirely unbiased concern."

"No, of course not. But he does regard you highly. Even if you weren't useful I'm positive he wouldn't want you to be killed."

"How kind."

He chuckled as he handed her a napkin. "I've no way with words like the Colonel. He's always reproving me." He glanced at Galen. "You're going to take her to Quinn?"