The Brass Ring Read online

  Swallowing hard, she nodded. She could feel a hot flush staining her cheeks, knew her heart was racing out of control, and had trouble catching her breath. "But tomorrow, Mr. Harrison—you're not going to get away so easily."

  "Don't tease me," he warned, his mouth a thin line of self-control.

  "Never," she promised, forest-green eyes serious.

  Linking his fingers with hers, he pulled her toward the parking lot. "I think we'd better get out of here. If I remember correctly, we have a wedding rehearsal and a dinner to get through tonight."

  "That's right," she groaned, combing her tangled hair with her fingers, as they threaded their way through the cars parked in uneven rows. "You know, I should have listened to you when you wanted to elope."

  "Next time, you'll know."

  "There won't be a next time," she vowed as he opened the door of his Jeep and she slid into the sweltering interior. "You're going to be stuck with me for life!"

  "I wouldn't have it any other way." Once behind the wheel, he cranked open the windows and turned on the ignition.

  "Even if you have to give up your mistress?"

  Coughing, he glanced at her. One corner of his mouth lifted cynically as he maneuvered the car out of the bumpy, cracked field that served as a parking lot. "The things I do for love," he muttered and then switched on the radio and shifted gears.

  Shawna stared out the window at the passing countryside. In the distance, dark clouds had begun to gather around the rugged slopes of Mount Hood. Shadows lengthened across the hilly, dry farmland.

  Dry, golden pastures turned dark as the wind picked up. Grazing cattle lifted their heads at the scent of the approaching storm and weeds and wild flowers along the fencerows bent double in the muggy breeze.

  "Looks like a storm brewing." Parker glanced at the hard, dry ground and frowned. "I guess we could use a little rain."

  "But not tonight or tomorrow," Shawna said. "Not on our wedding day." Tomorrow, she thought with a smile. She tried to ignore the Gypsy woman's grim prediction and the promise of rain. "Tomorrow will be perfect!"

  ❧

  "... and may you have all the happiness you deserve. To the bride and groom!" Jake said, casting a smile at his sister and holding his wineglass high in the air.

  Hoisting her glass, Shawna beamed, watching her dark-haired brother through adoring eyes.

  "Here, here," the rest of the guests chimed in, glasses clinking, laughter and cheery conversation filling the large banquet room of the Edwardian Hotel in downtown Portland. The room was crowded with family and friends, all members of the wedding party. After a rehearsal marred by only a few hitches, and a lovely veal dinner, the wine, toasts and fellowship were flowing freely in the elegant room.

  "How was that?" Jake asked, taking his chair.

  "Eloquent," Shawna admitted, smiling at her brother. "I didn't know you had it in you."

  "That's because you never listened to me," he quipped, and then, setting his elbows on the table, winked at Parker. "I hope you have better luck keeping her in line."

  "I will," Parker predicted, loosening his tie.

  "Hey, wait a minute," Shawna protested, but laughed and sipped from a glass of cold Chablis.

  "I can't wait until tomorrow," Gerri, Shawna's best friend, said with a smile. "I never thought I'd see this day, when someone actually convinced the good doctor to walk down the aisle." Shaking her auburn hair, Gerri leaned back and lit a cigarette, clicking her lighter shut to add emphasis to her words.

  "I'm not married to my work," Shawna protested.

  "Not anymore. But you were. Back in those days when you were in med school, you were no fun. I repeat: No fun!"

  Parker hugged his bride-to-be. "I intend to change all that, starting tomorrow!"

  "Oh, you do, do you?" Shawna said, her gaze narrowing on him. "I'll have you know, Mr. Harrison, that you'll be the one toeing the line."

  "This should be good," Jake decided. "Parker Harrison under a woman's thumb."

  "I'll drink to that!" Brad Lomax, Parker's most famous student, leaned over Shawna's shoulder, spilling some of his drink on the linen tablecloth. His black hair was mussed, his tie already lost, and the smell of bourbon was heavy on his breath. He'd been in a bad mood all evening and had chosen to drown whatever problems he had in a bottle.

  "Maybe you should slow down a little," Parker suggested, as the boy swayed over the table.

  "What? In the middle of this celebration? No way, man!" To add emphasis to his words, he downed his drink and signaled to the waiter for another.

  Parker's eyes grew serious. "Really, Brad, you've had enough."

  "Never enough!" He grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. "Put it on his tab!" Brad said, cocking his thumb at Parker. "This is his las' night of freedom! Helluva waste if ya ask me!"

  Jake glanced from Parker to Brad and back again. "Maybe I should take him home," he suggested.

  But Brad reached into his pocket, fumbled around and finally withdrew his keys. "I can do it myself," he said testily.

  "Brad—"

  "I'll go when I'm damned good and ready." Leaning forward, he placed one arm around Parker, the other around Shawna. "You know, I jus' might end up married myself," he decided, grinning sloppily.

  "I'd like to be there on the day some girl gets her hooks into you," Parker said. "It'll never happen."

  Brad laughed, splashing his drink again. "Guess again," he said, slumping against Shawna.

  "Why don't you tell me about it on the way home?" Parker suggested. He helped Brad back to his feet.

  "But the party's not over—"

  "It is for us. We've got a pretty full schedule tomorrow. I don't want you so hung over that you miss the ceremony."

  "I won't be!"

  "Right. 'Cause I'm taking you home right now." He set Brad's drink on the table and took the keys from his hand. Then, leaning close to Shawna, he kissed her forehead. "I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

  "Eleven o'clock, sharp," she replied, looking up at him, her eyes shining.

  "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

  "Me neither," Brad agreed, his arm still slung over

  Parker's broad shoulders as they headed for the door. " 'Sides, I need to talk to you, need some advice," he added confidentially to Parker.

  "So what else is new?"

  "Be careful," Jake suggested. "It's raining cats and dogs out there—the first time in a couple months. The roads are bound to be slick."

  "Will do," Parker agreed.

  Jake watched them leave, his eyes narrowing on Parker's broad shoulders. "I don't see why Parker puts up with Brad," he said, frowning into his drink.

  Shawna lifted a shoulder. "You know Brad is Parker's star student, supposedly seeded ninth in the country. Parker expects him to follow in his footsteps, make it to the top—win the grand slam. The whole nine yards, so to speak."

  "That's football, Sis. Not tennis."

  "You know what I mean."

  "He's that good?" Obviously, Jake didn't believe it, and Shawna understood why. As a psychiatrist, he'd seen more than his share of kids who'd gotten too much too fast and couldn't handle the fame or money.

  Leaning back in her chair, Shawna quoted, "The best natural athlete that Parker's ever seen."

  Jake shook his head, glancing again at the door through which Parker and Brad had disappeared. "Maybe so, but the kid's got a temper and a chip on his shoulder the size of the Rock of Gibraltar."

  "Thank you for your professional opinion, Dr. McGuire."

  "Is that a nice way of saying 'butt out'?" Jake asked.

  Shawna shook her head. "No, it's a nice way of saying, let's keep the conversation light—no heavy stuff, okay? I'm getting married tomorrow."

  "How could I forget?" Clicking the rim of his glass to hers, he whispered, "And I wish you all the luck in the world." He took a sip of his wine. "You know what the best part of this marriage is, don't you?"

  "Living with Parker?"r />
  "Nope. The fact that this is the last day there will be two Dr. McGuires working at Columbia Memorial. No more mixed-up messages or calls."

  "That's right. From now on, I'll be Dr. Harrison." She wrinkled her nose a bit. "Doesn't have the same ring to it, does it?"

  "Sounds great to me."

  "Me, too," she admitted, looking into her wine glass and smiling at the clear liquid within. "Me, too."

  She felt a light tap on her shoulder and looked up. Her father was standing behind her chair. A tall, rotund man, he was dressed in his best suit, and a sad smile curved his lips. "How about a dance with my favorite girl?" he asked.

  "You've got it," she said, pushing back her chair and taking his hand. "But after that, I'm going home."

  "Tired?"

  "Uh-huh, and I want to look my best tomorrow."

  "Don't worry. You'll be the prettiest bride ever to walk down that aisle."

  "The wedding's going to be in the rose garden, remember?" She laughed, and her father's face pulled together.

  "I don't suppose I can talk you into saying your vows in front of the altar?"

  "Nope. Outside," she said, glancing out the window into the dark night. Rain shimmered on the window panes. "I don't care if this blasted rain keeps falling, we're going to be married under the arbor in the rose garden of the church."

  "You always were stubborn," he muttered, twirling her around the floor. "Just like your mother."

  "Some people say I'm a chip off the old block, and they aren't talking about Mom."

  Malcolm McGuire laughed as he waltzed his daughter around the room. "I know this is the eleventh hour, but sometimes I wonder if you're rushing things a bit. You haven't known Parker all that long."

  "Too late, Dad. If you wanted to talk me out of this, you shouldn't have waited this long," she pointed out.

  "Don't get me wrong; I like Parker."

  "Good, because you're stuck with him as a son-in-law. "

  "I just hope you're not taking on too much," he said thoughtfully. "You're barely out of med school and you have a new practice. Now you're taking on the responsibilities of becoming a wife—"

  "And a mother?" she teased.

  Malcolm's eyebrows quirked. "I know you want children, but that can come later."

  "I'm already twenty-eight!"

  "That's not ancient, Shawna. You and Parker, you're both young."

  "And in love. So quit worrying," she admonished with a fond grin. "I'm a big girl now. I can take care of myself. And if I can't, Parker will."

  "He'd better," her father said, winking broadly. "Or he'll have to answer to me!"

  When the strains of the waltz drifted away, he patted Shawna's arm and escorted her back to her chair. He glanced around the room as she slipped her arms through the sleeves of her coat. "So where is that husband-to-be of yours? Don't tell me he already skipped out."

  "Very funny." She lifted her hair out of the collar of her raincoat and said, "He took Brad Lomax home a little earlier. But don't worry, Dad, he'll be there tomorrow. I'll see you then."

  Tucking her purse under her arm, she hurried down the stairs, unwilling to wait for the elevator. On the first floor, she dashed through the lobby of the old Victorian hotel, and shouldered open the heavy wood door.

  The rain was coming down in sheets and thunder rumbled through the sky. Just a summer storm, she told herself, nothing to worry about. Everything will be clean and fresh tomorrow and the roses in the garden will still have dewy drops of moisture on their petals. It will be perfect! Nothing will ruin the wedding. Nothing can.

  Chapter 2

  Shawna stared at her reflection as her mother adjusted the cream-colored lace of her veil. "How's that?" Doris McGuire asked as she met her daughter's gaze in the mirror.

  "Fine, Mom. Really—" But Shawna's forehead was drawn into creases and her green eyes were dark with worry. Where was Parker?

  Doris stepped back to take a better look and Shawna saw herself as her mother did. Ivory lace stood high on her throat, and creamy silk billowed softly from a tucked-in waist to a long train that was now slung over her arm. Wisps of honey-colored hair peeked from beneath her veil. The vision was complete, except for her clouded gaze. "Parker isn't here yet?" Shawna asked.

  "Relax. Jake said he'd let us know the minute he arrived." She smoothed a crease from her dress and forced a smile.

  "But he was supposed to meet with Reverend Smith half an hour ago."

  Doris waved aside Shawna's worries. "Maybe he got caught in traffic. You know how bad it's been ever since the storm last night. Parker will be here. Just you wait. Before you know it, you'll be Mrs. Parker Harrison and Caribbean-bound."

  "I hope so," Shawna said, telling herself not to worry. So Parker was a few minutes late; certainly that wasn't something to be alarmed about. Or was it? Parker had never been late once in the six weeks she'd known him.

  Glancing through the window to the gray day beyond, Shawna watched the yellow ribbons woven into the white slats of the arbor in the church garden. They danced wildly over the roses of the outdoor altar as heavy purple clouds stole silently across the sky.

  Doris checked her watch and sighed. "We still have time to move the ceremony inside," she said quietly. "I'm sure none of the guests would mind."

  "No!" Shawna shook her head and her veil threatened to come loose. She heard the harsh sound of her voice and saw her mother stiffen. "Look, Mom, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap."

  "It's okay—just the wedding-day jitters. But try to calm down," her mother suggested, touching her arm. "Parker will be here soon." But Doris's voice faltered and Shawna saw the concern etched in the corner of her mother's mouth.

  "I hope you're right," she whispered, unconvinced. The first drops of rain fell from the sky and ran down the window panes. Glancing again out the window to the parking lot, Shawna hoped to see

  Parker's red Jeep wheel into the lot. Instead, she saw Jake drive up, water splashing from under the wheels of his car as he ground to a stop.

  "Where did Jake go?" she asked. "I thought he was in the rose garden ..." Her voice drifted off as she watched her brother dash through the guests who were moving into the church.

  "Shawna!" Jake's voice boomed through the door and he pounded on the wood panels. "Shawna!"

  The ghost of fear swept over her.

  "For God's sake, come in," Doris said, opening the door.

  Jake burst into the room. His hair was wet, plastered to his head, his tuxedo was rumpled, and his face was colorless. "I just heard—there was an accident last night."

  "An accident?" Shawna repeated, seeing the horror in his gaze. "No—"

  "Parker and Brad were in a terrible crash. They weren't found until a few hours ago. Right now they're at Mercy Hospital—"

  "There must be some mistake!" Shawna cried, her entire world falling apart. Parker couldn't be hurt! Just yesterday they were at the fair, laughing, kissing, touching . . .

  "No mistake."

  "Jake—" Doris reproached, but Jake was at Shawna's side, taking hold of her arm, as if he were afraid she would swoon.

  "It's serious, Sis."

  Disbelieving, Shawna pinned him with wide eyes. "If this is true—"

  "Damn it, Shawna, do you think I'd run in here with this kind of a story if I hadn't checked it out?" he asked, his voice cracking.

  The last of her hopes fled and she clung to him, curling her fingers over his arm as fear grew in her heart. "Why didn't anyone tell me? I'm a doctor, for God's sake—"

  "But not at Mercy Hospital. No one there knew who he was."

  "But he's famous—"

  "It didn't matter," Brad said soberly. His eyes told it all and for the first time Shawna realized that Parker, her beloved Parker, might die.

  "Oh, my God," she whispered, wanting to fall to pieces, but not giving in to the horror that was coldly starting to grip her, wrenching at her insides. "I've got to go to him!"

  "But you can't," her mother pro
tested weakly. "Not now—"

  "Of course I can!" Flinging off her veil, she gathered her skirts and ran to the side door of the church.

  "Wait, Shawna!" Jake called after her, running to catch up. "I'll drive you—"

  But she didn't listen. She found her purse with the car keys, jumped into her little hatchback, and plunged the keys into the ignition. The car roared to life. Shawna rammed it into gear and tore out of the parking lot, the car wheels screeching around the curves as she entered the highway. She drove wildly, her every thought centered on Parker as she prayed that he was still alive.

  Jake hadn't said it, but it had been written in his eyes. Parker might die! "Please God, no," she whispered, her voice faltering, her chin thrust forward in determination. "You can't let him die! You can't!"

  She shifted down, rounding a curve and nearly swerving out of her lane as the car climbed a steep street. Fir trees and church spires, skyscrapers and sharp ravines, a view of the Willamette River and the hazy mountains beyond were lost to her in a blur of rain-washed streets and fear.

  Twice her car slid on the slick pavement but she finally drove into the parking lot of the hospital and ignored a sign reserving the first spot she saw for staff members. Her heart hammering with dread, she cut the engine, yanked on the brake and ran toward the glass doors, oblivious to the fact that her dress was dragging through mud-puddles and grime.

  As she ran to the desk in the emergency room, she wiped the water from her face. "I need to see Parker Harrison," she said breathlessly to a calm-looking young woman at the desk. "I'm Dr. McGuire, Columbia Memorial Hospital." Flashing credentials in the surprised woman's face, she didn't wait for a response. "I'm also Mr. Harrison's personal physician. He was brought in here early this morning and I have to see him!"

  "He's in surgery now—"

  "Surgery!" Shawna said, incredulous. "Who's the doctor in charge?"

  "Dr. Lowery."

  "Then let me see Lowery." Shawna's eyes glittered with authority and determination, though inside she was dying. She knew her requests were unreasonable, against all hospital procedures, but she didn't care. Parker was in this hospital, somewhere, possibly fighting for his life, and come hell Or high water, she was going to see him!