All or Nothing: A Trust No One Novel

by Dixie Lee Brown

  The nurse turned to Joe. “Maybe I should call the doctor and see if he wants to sedate her.”

  “I suppose that comes with a needle too!” Cara snapped.

  “Sedation won’t be necessary.” He frowned at the nurse. Carefully he sat on the bed still holding Cara’s hand, then moved his hand up until he gripped the elbow of her good arm. She tried to shake him off, and her eyes widened in suspicion when she couldn’t.

  “Let go of me.”

  “Calm down. Just a quick shot so the pain will go away. That’s what we want, right?”

  Her gaze flew to the nurse standing ten feet away with her needle and then darted back to him. Suspicion turned to anger in her blue eyes, already ablaze with pain.

  “Come on, roll toward me a little so she can get to your hip. You won’t feel a thing.” He glanced at the name tag of the nurse standing halfway between the bed and the door. “She won’t feel a thing, right… Emily?”

  “No, sir.” Emily hastened forward and administered the shot as soon as she saw her target.

  “Ouch—I felt that,” Cara grumbled.

  Joe chuckled as Nurse Emily retreated quickly.

  “What’s so damn funny?” Cara asked.

  “Are you always this grumpy in the morning? Maybe I should reconsider my invitation to stay.”

  “You do that.” She turned her face toward the wall, and he glimpsed the tears she was determined to hide.

  Shit! Those tears tore him apart. He barely stopped himself from leaning close to kiss her forehead and comfort her. Telling her everything would be all right was the wrong move right now. She had a fight on her hands. It wouldn’t help for someone to coddle her and make false promises. Her recovery time depended on her attitude and determination.

  He’d already made the decision she wasn’t leaving until she was well on the road to recovery. That was sure to piss her off once she found out. Sinclair’s death weighed heavily on her, and the loneliness he’d caught in her eyes the few times she let her guard down hit him hard. Did she hate him for killing her brother?

  “You’ve got every right to be angry with me. Your brother… it was my job to keep you safe, and I screwed up.” He stood and stepped away from the bed. “You’ve got a long road ahead of you, and it will be twice as hard if you’re going to feel sorry for yourself the whole damn way.”

  Her head turned toward him and her eyes flashed with hurt and anger. “I’m not feeling sorry for myself.”

  “The hell you’re not, and I’m tired of it. I can only help you so much. Then you have to stand up and help yourself.”

  Betrayal and frustration clouded her face, followed swiftly by anger. She would either come off that bed swinging, or she’d never speak to him again.

  “The man’s right, Cara.” A stranger’s voice came from the doorway, but Joe knew instantly who it was. Sam Garrett.

  Cara’s gaze swept past Joe. He turned slowly and stared. He’d have recognized Sam from her description, but there was more to him than just physical attributes. He was lean and rock-solid, confident and focused. He wore an aura of power, and damned if Joe’s skin didn’t crawl, just as Walker said. Joe had seen men like this before and few, if any, spent any time in an art gallery. Warning bells were going off like crazy. Sam Garrett was no artist.

  The man walked to Cara’s bedside and smiled at her. “An injury like that—it takes time to bounce back, and a whole lot of work. You’ll need to toughen up if you’re going to get it done.”

  The anger and argument faded from her eyes, faced with both of them bullying her. She blinked and turned her face away.

  “I’d be happy to help,” Sam said. “I did a short stint as a physical therapist right out of school, before I decided I was better at painting than I was at helping the masses. I think we could speed things up if we got started right away.”

  She met Joe’s gaze for a moment, but he couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

  Then she smiled at Sam. “That’s sweet of you. I don’t know if I’ll be staying around here yet, but if I do, maybe we can work something out.”

  Sam turned to Joe as though just noticing he was in the room. “I’m sorry. I jumped in where I wasn’t invited. I hope you’ll forgive my poor manners. Sam Garrett.” He offered his hand.

  “Joe Reynolds.” Joe shook his hand, studying him thoughtfully. This guy was smooth. In thirty seconds he’d done what Joe failed to do all morning. At least Garrett weighed in on Joe’s side, apparently diffusing Cara’s anger for the moment. Maybe he was harmless like she suspected. If not, there was definitely some logic to keeping your enemies close.

  “I’m sure, once she gets out of here and focused on her recovery, she’ll take you up on your offer. We’ll talk later.” He grinned at Cara, whose eyes flashed daggers again, and started for the door. “As long as you’ve got company, I think I’ll return a few phone calls. I’ll be right outside.”

  He propped the door open, stepped into the hallway, and turned so he could keep an eye on them. Sam glanced his way every few seconds, impatience in his slight frown. Apparently, he hoped to be alone with her. Joe had to applaud him. Sam pulled up a chair, sat down by her bed, and started a conversation that soon had her laughing and relaxed. Joe dialed Murphy’s number and waited for him to pick up.

  “Murphy, why is it taking so long to run that background check on Garrett?”

  Saturday, 12:18 pm

  CARA ONLY PICKED at her lunch, but as far as Joe could tell, her mood was holding steady. She slept most of the morning, while he sat in a chair by her bed feeling helpless. It was probably his mood he should be worried about.

  Walker arrived to relieve him after lunch, and Joe was just about to leave when Garrett walked through the door.

  “Ready for visitors bearing pictures?” Sam flashed a smile and held up a handmade, fabric-covered photo album, complete with pink and purple flowers.

  Joe exchanged a look with Walker and recognized the same skepticism on his face. Joe tipped his head slightly toward the door. Walker got the message and left quietly. There was no way Joe was leaving now. He wanted to see this guy in action.

  Sam grinned as he approached the bed. “I racked my brain after I left this morning, trying to think of something that might take your mind off your discomfort and your involuntary incarceration. This was the best I could do. Besides, I wanted to show you I really do have a niece and nephew so maybe you’ll stop thinking I’m a nosy old fool.”

  Cara laughed softly. “I’d love to see your pictures, Sam.”

  Joe nodded as Sam walked by. A pink photo album? Family? Kids? Joe wasn’t buying it. Purposefully, he reclaimed his chair, eager to see the show.

  Sam ignored him, stopped beside Cara, and leaned against the bed rail as he opened to the first page. Joe couldn’t see the pictures from where he sat, but he didn’t give a damn about that. He was only interested in what the expressions on Sam’s face would tell him.

  “My sister, Beth, her husband, Harold, their daughter, Lea, and son, Jack—my niece and nephew.” Sam’s voice held pride. “This was taken a couple of years ago on vacation in the Grand Tetons. They’re a handsome family, don’t you think?”

  He kept up a steady stream of conversation, introducing Cara to people, places, and how he felt about everyone. Clearly, he was lying, fabricating a family and telling stories to make himself seem legit. What man carried around a fluffy, pink photo album and voluntarily talked about feelings?

  Cara seemed comfortable and to take a real interest in Sam’s fake family. Did she really believe him? Or was she just being nice? She laughed and talked, her eyes lighting with humor at some of his stories. She even rested her hand on his arm as he helped her hold the album on her lap. Joe experienced a twinge of jealousy—not because she enjoyed Sam’s company, but because she seemed to trust him for no good reason, when Joe still wasn’t sure whether she trusted him.

  An hour later, Sam closed the album and laid it on the foot of Cara’s bed.
“Tell you what—when you’re better, maybe we could drive to Bozeman and you could meet the family.”

  “I don’t know, Sam.” She glanced at Joe for the first time since Sam arrived, clearly expecting him to say no, to play the bad guy.

  “Bring Joe if you like. I want you to feel safe.”

  Sam was cool—Joe had to give him that. Cara swung her gaze back to Joe and waited.

  “Maybe we’ll take you up on that when she’s recovered,” Joe said.

  Sam picked up the album. “I’m going to call and check up on you… make sure they’re taking good care of you.” He prepared to leave. “If you need anything or just want someone to talk to, give me a call.”

  “Thanks. It really did help. You’re a lifesaver.” Cara’s smile was forced.

  Hatred hardened Sam’s eyes as he turned away from her and his gaze fell on Joe. It was only there for a fraction of a second before his smile fell back in place, but it was long enough. Joe’s first impression was accurate. Something wasn’t quite right about Sam Garrett.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  * * *

  Saturday, 2:50 pm

  THE DOCTOR WAS true to his promise. Twenty-four hours elapsed, and she was free. As free as one could be who couldn’t dress herself or walk a half dozen steps without collapsing. If Cara wasn’t so adamant about going home, she knew Joe would insist she stay another night. As it was, she had to endure him helping her get dressed, since Rayna wasn’t around and the nurses were all afraid of her. Truth be known, she trusted Joe more than anyone else anyway. Besides, he’d gotten no enjoyment from it. He never took his eyes off her pale-as-death face.

  At the ranch, Joe swept her up and carried her, much to her annoyance. “I can walk. Put me down.”

  “Not today.”

  In her room, he helped her into bed and tucked the blankets around her, then left and returned shortly with Dillon. Her eyes rimmed with tears as Dillon climbed carefully onto her bed and lay down with his head across her lap. She opened her mouth to thank Joe, but he was gone, silently closing the door behind him.

  Damn the man for being so patient and self-sacrificing. If he didn’t lose his temper with her soon, she’d have to apologize for being so difficult. Tears of frustration rolled down her cheeks. She’d never been so sharp-tongued and shrewish in her life, and she didn’t understand what came over her when he was around. All she could think about was getting well enough to leave so she wouldn’t have to see him every day.

  It was obvious the only reason Joe was being so kind and thoughtful was because he felt responsible for her getting shot. No sense deluding herself with the idea it was anything else. She’d been there a couple times already, and she wasn’t falling for it again. Grudgingly, she gave herself five minutes to cry, although it might have been a little longer.

  Saturday, 6:53 pm

  SHE WOKE TO darkness, unable to move. Dillon still stretched across her lap. The noise that woke her came again, a soft tapping on the door.

  “Cara, are you awake?” It was Rayna.

  “Come in.” She stretched to turn on the lamp by her bed and instantly sucked in her breath. Even that small movement sent pain slicing through her shoulder.

  Rayna entered, all smiles, carrying a tray of food. “Good—you’ve got a little color in your face. Are you hungry? Irene fixed you some easy-on-the-stomach food, whatever that is.”

  Cara’s stomach growled. “Actually, I am a little hungry. I can’t believe I slept the whole afternoon away.” She struggled until she was sitting up and sent Dillon to his bed by the balcony doors.

  Rayna propped her up on pillows and handed her the tray. She took a few bites of everything to satisfy her hunger then leaned back, exhausted. She sighed as Rayna removed the tray. “I feel so… helpless.”

  “It won’t be like that forever.” Rayna sat on the edge of the bed and nudged her side.

  Cara smiled at the young girl. “I know, but it sure feels like it might.”

  “Something came for you this afternoon. Maybe that will cheer you up.” Rayna went to the door and brought back a bouquet of yellow roses.

  Cara smelled them and snatched the card as Rayna swept by to put them on her nightstand.

  “Oh.” She sighed. “They’re from… uh… my friend Sam.” She couldn’t let Rayna see her disappointment. Anyway, she shouldn’t expect Joe to bring her flowers—not after the last couple of days.

  “Sam, huh?” Rayna threw her a teasing glance. “I’ve got to meet this guy. Joe’s jealous, you know.”

  “No, you’re wrong. I’ve been so awful to Joe, I’m sure he hates me by now. All we do is argue.”

  “I don’t know about that, but I know Joe, and something’s got him acting like a momma bear.”

  Cara didn’t want to talk about him. She knew just the subject that would stop Rayna’s prying. “How long have you and Tyler been an item?”

  Rayna whirled and glared suspiciously.

  “It’s fairly obvious.” Cara smiled innocently.

  “Joe doesn’t know, does he?” Rayna twisted her fingers together.

  “I think he may have an inkling since he’s the one who told me.”

  “Oh no. It’s against the rules. He won’t let Tyler and me work together.”

  “I don’t think the rules apply to Joe’s strays.”

  “Strays? What’s that mean?”

  “Long story. I just mean I don’t think you need to worry… but it wouldn’t hurt to be up front with Joe. Give him the benefit of the doubt.”

  The girl hesitated, then shrugged. “Maybe you’re right. Truth is usually the best way. Charlie used to say that.” Rayna stopped, glancing shyly at Cara. “Ironic, huh?”

  Cara looked away as her eyes stung. Would remembering him always be so painful?

  “Speaking of being up front with Joe… when are you going to tell him you have the hots for him?”

  “Excuse me?” Cara’s head swung around to search Rayna’s humor-filled eyes.

  “It’s fairly obvious, you know.” Rayna’s blatant attempt to keep a straight face failed.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Cara’s neck grew hot and the heat spread across her face.

  “Wow, we’ve got color in those cheeks now.”

  “You’re impossible!” Cara couldn’t help laughing and finally had to hold her arm still so her shoulder wouldn’t hurt.

  “So?” Rayna waited, apparently not willing to let it go.

  Cara shrugged. “I can’t tell him. There are so many reasons why it wouldn’t work.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like the fact he can’t wait to see the last of me.”

  “You’re wrong about that. Next?”

  Cara glared at her. The girl didn’t even blink. She cleared her throat and tried again. “There’s the little problem of an ex-husband who wants to kill me and anyone else who gets in his way.”

  “That is a problem, but nothing Joe can’t handle. Next?”

  Cara tried to hide her smile. “Okay, so maybe I do have feelings for Joe, but he doesn’t feel the same way. Sure, he’d welcome me in his bed, but beyond that… he’s got his work, which doesn’t really lend itself to a permanent relationship.”

  Rayna grew serious. “That’s a tough one. Nobody likes rejection, but it’s better than never finding out for sure and maybe missing an opportunity to be happy. Besides, I’ve never seen Joe like this before. I think he’s got it bad for you.” She grinned conspiratorially. “You could—you know—give him the benefit of the doubt.”

  Cara rolled her eyes. She’d been out-talked by her own words. Was she really that blind when it came to Joe? Rayna was right. She should talk to him—come clean about her feelings, but not now. Not until David was no longer a threat.

  “If we can still stand the sight of each other when I’m back on my feet, I’ll give it all the consideration it’s due.”

  “Very funny.”

  “Thanks, Rayna. It’s good to h
ave a friend.”

  Rayna hugged her and grabbed the tray. “I’ll be back to see you in the morning. Since the cat’s out of the bag anyway, you might as well know Tyler and I are watching a movie in his room tonight.”

  “Do you think you’ll ever go back to school?” Cara would never forget the pride in Charlie’s voice when he spoke of his sister and her plans for medical school.

  “Sure. It may not be UCLA. Might be Montana State. We’ll see how things go.”

  “Tell Irene thanks for me, okay?”

  Rayna paused at the door and looked over her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re all right.” She smiled and left.

  With her gone, the room was way too quiet. Dillon got up, padded across the floor, and pulled himself back up on Cara’s bed. She stroked his fur and he rewarded her with his worshipful stare. Dogs were great. They never judged.

  Saturday, 7:33 pm

  DILLON HAD WHINED for thirty minutes. He wanted out. Cara’s cell phone was nowhere to be found, and that left one option. She pushed herself up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, pausing until the swirl of dizziness eased somewhat. Standing tentatively, she gripped the bed and shuffled along to the end, then straightened and moved slowly across the huge expanse of open floor, which was really only twenty feet or so.

  Just as her hand touched the door handle, someone knocked. Immediately the door swung open. Startled, she stumbled back, but not quickly enough. The door brushed the arm in the sling. Waves of pain radiated from her shoulder. She sucked in her breath and looked around desperately for someplace to sit before her shaky legs gave out. Her gaze locked on Joe, who stood just inside the door, his hand still on the knob, his expression one of surprise and something else she couldn’t read. Her knees buckled, just as he leaped forward, gathered her up, and carried her back to the bed.

  “Damn it, Cara! What the hell are you doing out of bed?”

  “Dillon needs to go outside.” She gritted her teeth against the pain.

  “So you thought you’d take him down two flights of stairs?”

  His disdainful tone felt like sandpaper on an open wound.