“Watch me,” she mumbled. “Where are my clothes?”
“They were a mess, so the nurse gave you scrubs to wear home. TJ brought some of your stuff by earlier. They’re in the drawer.”
He went to get them, looked back at her. “What do you want?”
“Did she bring my sweats? T-shirt?”
He scrounged for a minute. “These?”
“Yeah.”
He brought them over. “Can I help?”
“I can do it,” she insisted. He wasn’t about to dress her.
But once she had the sweats and T-shirt in hand, she realized her shoulder and arm were hurting so badly, it wouldn’t be easy.
Lisa took stock of the aches and pains that radiated up and down the left side of her body.
She remembered when she felt her saddle slip and knew she was going to fall, how her boot caught in the stirrup, how she fought to get loose, then blacked out. By some miracle Sugarplum hadn’t stepped on her.
She shut her eyes in misery.
“Are you all right?”
“Just great, Douglas. This never happened. When I open my eyes, we’ll be at Papasita’s eating fajitas and drinking margaritas because I won the barrel racing competition.”
He ran a finger down her cheek, brushed hair behind an ear. She turned away. She was being snarky and Douglas didn’t deserve it.
She opened her eyes and stared into his very green ones. “I’m sorry, Douglas. I didn’t mean to be nasty. You’re just trying to help.”
Turning, she looked out the window. It was a lot better than looking at him.
And a heck of a lot better than wondering why this had happened.
Chapter Nine
Douglas didn’t know what to do.
He was totally out of his element.
He didn’t think Lisa could change clothes without help, but could he undress and dress her? He didn’t think so. Perhaps she should have gone home with TJ. At least his sister could help her in the bathroom, help her into her nightclothes.
She was looking out the window as if she wanted to escape. Maybe she did.
“Let’s get you changed.”
“I can do it.”
“Okay. I’ll stand here in case you need me.”
She glared at him with those big, beautiful, blue eyes and his heart turned over. She was so independent. This had to be killing her.
“This is only temporary, Lisa. You’ll be back to yourself in no time. Right now you’re down, so let your family help you.”
“Then help me out of these scrubs. They itch.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Why don’t you cut them off? I won’t use them again.”
“Good idea.”
He all but ran from the room, was back in seconds with a pair of scissors.
Starting at the back, he cut from hem to neck. The top separated. No bra, just smooth, creamy skin. He swallowed hard. “Okay. That’s done. Slip it off.”
She grabbed the T-shirt in her right hand, held it to her breast and let the top fall to the floor.
Now what? He’d undressed women before, but never dressed one. “Let me help with that.”
“I can do it,” she insisted, as she put her good arm through a sleeve.
Even looking at that perfect back, he could tell she was in pain. She leaned toward her left side as if that would help. What could he do? She needed more help than he could give. Maybe she needed to go back to the doctor.
Her naked back was within kissing distance. He groaned to himself. Felt his body stir. He shut his eyes. This can’t be happening. He reminded himself that Lisa was his sister.
Then why was perspiration running down his back? Why was he so nervous? If this were TJ, he would be teasing her unmercifully. With Lisa, he couldn’t even talk.
“I think I need help.”
So did he.
He came around to stand in front of her. Her eyes were glazed with pain. What an idiot he was.
In all the years she’d known Douglas, they had never been in such close proximity, and certainly, if you didn’t count bikinis, she’d never been half-naked. And she had to stay here until she was better? How could she when just looking at him made her weak? As if she weren’t weak enough. He stood in front of her now with a look of panic on his face. How much worse could this get?
“We’re going to have to start over,” he said, gently taking the shirt and sliding it down her arm.
She went hot all over. An erotic tingle followed the movement. Please don’t let my goose bumps show. She risked a quick glance. His mouth was set in a determined line that meant he wanted this over with, too. He was being all brotherly while her thoughts were anything but sisterly.
“Put your injured arm in first.”
She did as he asked.
“Now the other.”
Even though it hurt, she quickly pulled the shirt down and over her breasts.
His breath hissed out.
Oh, God. Now she’d embarrassed him.
The only thing she could do at this point was pretend it meant nothing, even though her skin burned at every touch, every look. At least for now, why couldn’t her reaction to him be of the sisterly kind?
“I can manage the sweats, thanks.”
“It’s time to take another pain med.” He handed her a pill. “If you don’t take it, you won’t sleep.”
“You’re probably right.” She took the pill.
“Anything else?”
She shook her head. She wanted him out of the room so she could think.
“Douglas?”
He turned at the door, the tray balanced in one hand. “Yeah?”
“Why did my saddle slip? Someone tampered with it, didn’t they?”
She waited for an answer, clearly seeing he didn’t want to tell her.
“I want the truth, Douglas.”
“Yeah, someone cut the cinch.”
Her breath caught in her throat. Someone wanted to hurt her? Why? She hadn’t done anything wrong that she knew of.
He came back into the room, laid the tray back on the table. “Don’t worry about it now. Max is working on it. So is Darin. Starting Monday morning I will too. Right now, let’s concentrate on getting you well.”
For a swift moment, she felt the room swim around her. When it slowed, she looked at him. “Why would anyone do such a thing?”
“That’s what we have to find out.”
She grabbed his arm. “Check around. Someone had to have seen something.” She tried to remember who was there at the time, but was too tired to think. “It must have happened while I went with Mike and Owen for a ginger ale before my competition. It’s the only time I left Sugarplum.”
He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Get some rest. Let us worry about this.”
He picked up the tray again and left.
This was too surreal. How did he think she could rest when someone out there wanted to hurt her?
For a moment she sat there, reliving that staggering reality. Reliving that awful moment when she'd realized she was going to fall and couldn’t stop it from happening.
Putting a hand over her eyes, she tried to block it all out. Maybe then she wouldn’t remember the way it felt when Sugarplum dragged her. She groaned. She was an experienced horsewoman, yet she’d been thrown and dragged in front of thousands of people. Embarrassing, but not nearly as bad as Douglas helping her into her clothes. He’d seen her half-naked for goodness sakes. The thought sent heat boiling up again.
She struggled out of the pants part of the scrubs and wiggled into her sweats. Better.
But she was way too weak. She lowered herself onto the bed, as the pain that was real and the pain inside her battled for dominance.
She wanted to curl into a ball and let it all out. She could have been killed last night. Instead she was here in Douglas’ house, and he was waiting on her hand and foot.
Both a nightmare. And right now, she didn’t know which was
the worst.
This was certainly not the dream she’d had for years of the two of them falling in love, marrying, having children. It was a one-sided love affair she worried would never change.
She swiped away her tears. She’d be better tomorrow, then she’d leave.
If the family let her.
They were so protective. If they thought she was in danger, they’d keep her under lock and key.
She had to figure out who was behind this. And why.
Harold Wheatley. Did Harold think if she died in an accident the cops would close their investigation? After all, the cops already suspected her. It would be an easy out for him.
Lisa was too tired to think. The drugs made her sluggish. She needed to sleep, forget the pain, forget she was in Douglas’ house, forget someone had tried to hurt her.
As the meds took effect, sweet oblivion took her beyond her problems.
****
Douglas sat the tray down on the counter, leaned over and took a deep breath. He’d seen naked women before. So why did Lisa’s creamy bare skin, those perfect breasts evoke such a response?
He’d wanted to stroke and kiss every inch. To soothe and comfort, he told himself as he wiped sweat from his forehead. He was lying. For a swift moment there, he’d wanted her like a man wants a woman. He had to get better control of himself. This wasn’t like him at all.
Helping her dress had been both pleasure and pain.
Though Lisa was like another sister, it had taken every ounce of control to act halfway normal. If that had been TJ in the other room, he could guarantee he might be embarrassed, but he’d also be tormenting the heck out of her.
He splashed water on his face. He couldn’t torment Lisa if his life depended on it. Hell, he couldn’t utter a word for the lump in his throat.
He kept telling himself he could do this. But seeing Lisa suffer, and being unable to do anything other than hand her a pill, made him fighting mad. Who the hell did this to her?
His hands shook as he ran water over the dirty dishes before putting them in the dishwasher. Who was responsible? Who sawed through the cinch just far enough so the saddle would slip and Lisa would fall? Did that person want to kill her? Or did they just want to hurt her? Get her out of the way for a while?
Whoever it was obviously knew better than to cause a clean cut. They wanted the cut to look as if the cinch was worn. Smart, but not smart enough. Lisa was known for her careful attention to detail.
His job was to find the connection between Tempest’s death and Lisa’s accident. Then he’d find the perp.
Going into the living room, he flipped on the TV and watched the news. They had a clip on the rodeo. His heart beat faster when they showed a short segment of Lisa’s accident. He leaned closer. There she was, making the turn, falling. It was as if it were happening again. He felt the same fear, the same burst of helplessness.
When the newscaster went to the political front, he turned off the TV and sat there willing the fear to subside.
Lisa was safe in the next room, he told himself. He got out of the chair to check on her again, saw that she was asleep. Good. The meds were working.
He scrounged around the kitchen for something to eat. He’d have to go shopping tomorrow. Peanut butter and crackers would make as good a meal as any. But Douglas couldn’t make them go down. He didn’t know if he was more worried about Lisa or about the feelings that were emerging.
For the next couple of hours, he attacked the Internet. First, he looked up Tempest, gleaned all he could from Google, which wasn’t much. Mostly, she was mentioned as the wife of Harold Wheatley, Committee Coordinator of Houston’s Livestock Show and Rodeo. There were several pictures of the two of them at parties and fundraisers. Then he did the same for Harold where he found nothing but his bio.
He checked on Lisa one more time before he went to his room and took a shower, then slid between the sheets. He wanted to think about this. It didn’t make sense for anyone to hurt Lisa if she were the prime suspect in Tempest’s death unless something else was going on.
If both incidents were connected as he suspected, what was that something else?
Ever since Tempest’s death, Lisa had been asking questions daily at the rodeo. Did that anger the killer?
His blood ran cold.
Even here, she was vulnerable.
In the darkness, he got out of bed, went once more to her room, and opened the door. Moonlight filtered through enough for him to see that she hadn’t moved.
He left the door open. He wanted to hear her if she awoke in pain or if anything else happened. Things he didn’t want to think about.
But he did think about them. And they kept him awake.
First thing in the morning, he had to talk to Max. He knew Max was digging, using all the resources of his company. He wanted to know what Max knew.
Douglas needed all the help he could get.
No one was going to hurt Lisa again. No one.
Chapter Ten
Lisa awoke, moved to get out of bed, and groaned with the effort. Every bone in her body ached. Every muscle complained. It was worse than before. She tried to sit up. Failed.
Voices came from the far side of the house.
Douglas’ house.
She lay back, put her right hand over her eyes. It wasn’t a nightmare. It was real.
Someone had cut her cinch. Someone wanted to hurt her. She was in a place she didn’t want to be, at least not in this condition. “God give me strength,” she begged aloud as she tried again to sit up. She had to move, had to go home today.
“Are you awake?”
“TJ!”
Her very pregnant friend walked into the room until she stood next to the bed. Lisa held up her good arm. TJ bent down, wrapped her in a gentle hug. “I’m so sorry, Lisa. I can’t believe you’re hurt. I don’t understand why. What could you possibly have to do with Tempest’s death? Everyone in the family thinks whoever killed her is after you. I’m so scared.”
Tears welled in her friend’s eyes as she gripped her tummy. She wasn’t afraid for herself or her unborn baby, but for Lisa.
Lisa struggled to a sitting position. “Don’t be. I’ll be fine. We’ll get to the bottom of this. I’m starting my own investigation today.”
TJ snorted. “Like that’s possible. Look at you. Stay in bed. Let us wait on you.”
Lisa ignored her. “Where’s Max? Has everyone else gone home?”
“Douglas took Max and the guys into his office for a battle plan, as they called it. Mom is in the kitchen making a pot of soup and banana pudding.” She swiped tears from her eyes.
“Stop it, TJ. I’m fine. Much better even than yesterday.” A lie but maybe TJ wouldn’t see it. “Why haven’t they gone home?”
“And not see you? Douglas told us you were out of it yesterday, so we left you alone. Mom said sleep was better than company.”
“Phyl? Is she taking care of the babies?”
“Of course. My house will shine when I get back. The woman’s a workaholic.” Tears fell. “I feel so helpless.”
Lisa patted TJ’s arm. “I’m okay. Well, not okay exactly. But I’m alive and in a few days I’ll be fine.” She scooted over, gritted her teeth to keep from moaning at the effort. “Here, sit beside me and tell me why you’re not at home taking care of my godchild.”
“Because you need me.”
“What I need is for you to take care of yourself. Do you know how guilty I’d feel if anything happened to my goddaughter?” She patted TJ’s tummy.
“Max won’t let me do more than he thinks I can handle. Actually, I wish he wouldn’t pamper me so.”
Lisa chuckled. “You’re lying.”
“Only a little,” TJ agreed. She looked over at her friend. “I’m getting you a cup of coffee and something to eat. Do you need a pain pill?”
Lisa shook her head. Even that little effort hurt. “Get me a couple of Tylenol. I’ll be fine.”
It didn’t take long
until TJ was back. “Here.” She handed Lisa a cup of coffee, sat a container of yogurt and a glass of water on the bedside table before handing Lisa a couple of pills. “Here you go. Maybe they’ll make you feel better.”
“Hope you’re right,” Lisa mumbled as she popped them in her mouth and swallowed them down.
“Is it terrible?”
Only TJ knew the truth, that Lisa had loved Douglas since the first day they met—that he treated her no different than he did the rest of the family—that he was breaking Lisa’s heart.
“Worse,” Lisa admitted.
“I tried, Lisa. I did everything I could to make them understand Max and I would be able to keep you safe. No one listened. Douglas took over. Nothing would do except you had to come home with him.” Her forehead puckered in confusion. “I’ve never seen him like that before.”
“I’m his client now. He’d probably act the same with any one of us who needs protection.”
“Maybe,” TJ mused. “But you’re here now so tell me what I can do?”
Lisa fought tears. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t be ungrateful. “Douglas has been wonderful. But I can’t dress myself.” The tears fell then. She couldn’t help it.
“Oh, no! No one thought of that. So how did you change? Or maybe I don’t want to know.”
Lisa wiped her eyes. “It was terribly embarrassing for both of us, but we managed. If you could help me take a shower I’d be eternally grateful.”
“What about your bandages?”
“Take them off. I don’t care. I need a shower.”
“They’re going to hurt like the devil.”
Lisa gritted her teeth. “You can put salve on them and re-wrap what needs wrapped after I’m clean. Right now, that’s all I care about.”
“You’re the boss.”
TJ took Lisa’s arm and led her to the bathroom. She knew she looked like an old lady all stooped over as she was. She tried to straighten up, managed some, but not much. The hurt was staggering.
By the time she came out of the shower, she was weak from the effort. TJ was right about her abrasions. They burned like hellfire when water hit them. But she did feel better.
Making soothing noises, TJ, with Mom’s help, dressed her wounds, then helped her put her clothes on.
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