by Dahlia West
In some ways, Cassidy was so very tired of keeping secrets.
In the lobby of the Star Valley Medical Center, she ducked her head and turned her face into Sawyer’s shoulder as they walked together through the automatic doors. There were a few people in the chairs in the waiting area, and she wished like hell she could be invisible during this walk of shame.
He brought her to the front desk, and before Cassidy could blink her swollen eye, Rowan Archer appeared and whisked them to a small exam room down an empty corridor. She checked Cassidy’s cuts and bruises and pressed the edge of her cheekbone with her gloved thumbs.
Cassidy winced but tried not to make a scene. She’d already called enough attention to herself. She was used to being in the spotlight, but never like this. The questions, thankfully, were perfunctory. Was her vision blurry? How bad was her headache?
Then Rowan disappeared for what seemed like just a second and returned with her hands full. “Here, take these,” she told Cassidy with a sympathetic look. She held out two pills in the palm of her hand.
Cassidy looked at them dubiously.
“They aren’t much,” Rowan assured her. “But they’ll help.”
Cassidy plucked them from her hand with great effort and took the plastic cup of water the woman was now offering, as well.
“I’m going to take you down to X-ray,” Rowan declared. “To see what’s going on with your cheekbone. Just hang back,” she told Sawyer.
He frowned deeply but nodded his acquiescence.
Cassidy followed her down the long corridor to the end of the hallway. Rowan Archer had been three years ahead of Cassidy in school, and she didn’t really know the woman, especially since Rowan had left Star Valley years ago and had only just returned. There were rumors floating all over town, of course, that her daughter was Court’s, but that Rowan and Seth were getting married. Cassidy had listened to the Housewives’ chatter about it but hadn’t paid much attention since Sawyer’s name had never come up.
It was on the tip of Cassidy’s tongue to pepper Rowan with questions about him. Did he ever talk about her? Was he serious about anyone else? How long was he staying in Star Valley? Or was he headed back out with the rodeo now that Rafe Barlow’s final arrangements had surely been seen to?
It wasn’t the right time, and certainly not the right place, though. Rowan led her into a darkened room with another technician standing by, and the business of taking x-rays of Cassidy’s face overshadowed any small talk the women might have had. Cassidy didn’t know the technician, and he seemed even less interested in her. The whole procedure only lasted a few minutes, and then Rowan led her back down the hall.
Once again gathered in the small exam room, Sawyer stayed next to her with one arm wrapped tightly around her. Cassidy leaned her head on his shoulder, wanting nothing more than to simply fall asleep for days, right here in his arms. She wasn’t certain where she’d be in the morning, but she told herself that right now was all that mattered.
“Do you need anything?” he asked her.
She sighed and shook her head only slightly. “Just you,” she replied before she realized how silly that sounded. She was tired, and fog from the pain meds was just starting to creep in around the edges of her brain. She didn’t care.
The silence was broken by the sound of the door, and Cassidy bit back a curse at the sound of footsteps behind her. She opened her eyes to see Rowan again. She had nothing against the woman. She just wanted to be alone with Sawyer, away from here, with all this behind them.
“Your x-rays are back,” Rowan announced. “Everything looks good.”
If Cassidy could have, she might have rolled her eyes. Judging by the people’s looks in the lobby, she looked anything but good. But nothing was broken, and she supposed that was a blessing.
“Sawyer,” said Rowan. “Can you step outside?”
Cassidy watched in horror as he nodded and ducked his head without looking at her. None of this was going well. At all. Which was why she hadn’t wanted to come here. Too many questions, all of them the wrong questions, and her with no answers that she could give.
Palmer would deny hitting her. Dad would back him up, no doubt. She’d watched her father tear down her mother that way. “I didn’t say that” when he really had. “You’re imagining things” when Mom really wasn’t. In the end Mom even doubted herself for a while. No one would believe Cassidy, not for a second.
The heavy wooden door swung closed like the sealing of a tomb and Rowan and Cassidy were left alone, only the muffled sounds of the hospital’s staff buzzing around outside in the hallway filled the empty silence.
“Cassidy,” Rowan said quietly. “Do you need me to get a rape kit?”
Cassidy’s eyes widened, and she shook her head vehemently. “No! No, I wasn’t raped.”
Rowan hesitated, as though she wasn’t certain whether or not to believe her.
“I wasn’t,” Cassidy insisted. “I was just…” She paused, feeling odd about broadcasting her personal business. “I was with Sawyer. Earlier. That’s it. That’s all.”
A long silence hung between them until Rowan said, “I know Sawyer would never hurt you. But…you broke your wrist once. When you were eleven.”
It wasn’t a question, but Cassidy felt as though it was. She looked up at the other woman, panicking slightly. It had been so many years ago that she couldn’t remember what the excuse had been. Surely that wasn’t written in the record Rowan had seen, was it? It couldn’t be. But Cassidy wasn’t sure. “I…I…it was a long time ago,” she replied vaguely. “It was an accident.”
It had started as accident, at least. Palmer had accidentally stepped in a cow patty, and Cassidy had laughed. By the end of the day, she’d been in the emergency room with her mother, in extreme pain.
Rowan didn’t attempt to argue or press her for details. Instead she said, “You know, in domestic violence incidents, the most common injuries are to the face.”
Cassidy instinctively reached up to her own face and touched her swollen eye. “I wouldn’t…I mean, I don’t know…” She cleared her throat. “I’ve never been hit in the face before,” she replied, as though that ended the argument they were dancing around.
“The second most common injuries are to the arms.”
“I wrecked my car,” Cassidy insisted. “It was dark. I couldn’t see. A deer jumped out, I swerved.” She shrugged like it was no big deal. Certainly dozens of people had had it happen to them, living all the way out here in Wyoming. It was common enough.
For a moment Cassidy thought Rowan actually would argue, but before she could speak, the door swung open. Expecting to see Sawyer, Cassidy was surprised—and irritated—to see Jill Sykes striding through the door. “Oh, wow, Cassidy,” she declared, fluttering her hand to her chest dramatically. “You look terrible.”
Rowan made a disapproving noise, but Cassidy wasn’t surprised. Jill had been waiting, quite literally, their entire lives for a moment like this, for the one moment that Cassidy looked like anything other than the reigning queen of Lincoln County. Jill must’ve felt as though Christmas had come early this year.
“It’s fine,” Cassidy replied through gritted teeth. “I’m fine.” Even though Jill, she noticed, hadn’t asked.
Jill smiled. “Did you mess with the wrong woman’s boyfriend?” she asked.
“Jill—” Rowan snapped.
Jill waved her hand. “Oh, Cassidy knows I’m kidding. We’re old friends.” She said friends as though the word cut her mouth as spoke it. “Her x-rays look fine. I know she’s okay.”
Cassidy was certain Jill had scoured those films, hoping for some kind of traumatic injury. “I had a car accident. It’s no big deal.”
Jill’s lips pursed together for a moment as she studied Cassidy. “Maybe you had a little too much to drink,” the woman mused.
Cassidy fumed silently but said nothing.
Jill couldn’t know how difficult an accusation like that was for her to hear,
but the sing-song delivery was just as insulting if it’d been anyone sitting on this cot—like her injuries didn’t matter, because they were somehow all her fault.
“That’s enough, Jill,” Rowan snapped, pulling off the blood pressure cuff.
Jill’s lips twitched, and Cassidy felt the urge to warn Rowan, but then again, the two women worked together, so Rowan probably knew what was coming. “I was just wondering if you needed a banana bag.” She glanced at Cassidy. “Or a stomach pump. You’ve been back here forever. We do have other patients, Rowan. Like I keep reminding you.”
“Right,” Rowan growled. “They’re patients. As in people. Not chart numbers, Jill.”
Jill shrugged dramatically. “Okay,” she drawled. “I guess peer reviews weren’t ‘a thing’ in Cheyenne.” She reached for the door handle and opened it to reveal Sawyer standing out in the hall.
Cassidy didn’t like the smile Jill was giving him. Not at all. And she didn’t like the way Jill had dressed down Rowan and threatened to get her into trouble just for giving a good God damn about Cassidy’s injuries.
“Oh, hey there, Sawyer,” Jill purred. “You can come back in. They’re all done.”
Cassidy put on her brightest smile and aimed it at Jill’s retreating form. “Can I just say, good for you for keeping the ring, Jill. You go, girl.”
Jill’s brow furrowed, and her eyes darted to the diamond on her left hand. “What?”
Cassidy resisted the urge to tell the woman that the rock on her finger had originally been meant for her. Wayne hadn’t even bothered to buy Jill a new one. “Breaking up with Wayne,” she replied instead. “Good for you.”
Jill’s eyebrows shot to the ceiling. “I—I didn’t break up with Wayne.”
Cassidy pursed her lips and pretended to be surprised. “Really? Oh, I thought you guys were done. Because he tried to get me to come home with him one night last week when I saw him at the Spur. And I just thought you two were…” She let the sentence trail off and Jill’s mind wander along with it. Then Cassidy shrugged, a mirror image of Jill’s earlier nonchalant gesture. “Maybe you were working.”
Jill made an anguished noise in her throat and turned away. Heading out the door, she was already pulling her cell phone out of the pocket of her scrubs.
When Cassidy looked to Sawyer, he was scowling at her. Her gut twisted. He was the last person in the world she wanted to be upset with her. Jill could go to hell, but Sawyer, Sawyer she cared more about than she probably should have. Cassidy fumbled a smile that he didn’t return.
Chapter Nine
‡
SAWYER MOVED OUT of the way so a stricken Jill could exit the room as quickly as possible. He looked to Rowan but couldn’t read the woman’s expression. He knew it was useless to ask about Cassidy, even if he got her alone. Rowan was a professional and took her job seriously—he knew that much about his future sister-in-law. He watched her hand Cassidy a piece of paper, though, and squeeze her shoulder warmly.
“Call me,” said Rowan, “if you need anything.”
Cassidy nodded and took the scrap of paper, presumably with Rowan’s cell number written on it.
Rowan left them alone, and Cassidy slowly lowered her feet to the floor. She smiled at him weakly, but he couldn’t keep himself from snapping at her. “Was it really necessary to be rude to Jill?” he asked. “She was only trying to help you.” He was more than a little irritated that Cassidy wasn’t taking aid anywhere that it was offered. Sawyer also wanted to help her, but she’d pushed him away, too.
The chagrined look on her face made him feel like an asshole. “Here,” he said in a more gentle tone. “Let me help you.” He slung one arm around her waist, pulling her to him for support.
Rowan passed them Cassidy’s checkout paperwork at the nurses’ station and a few bottles of pills.
Jill was nowhere to be found.
Outside, Sawyer helped her into his truck and shut the door firmly before climbing into the driver’s side. Cassidy leaned away from him, sagging against the doorframe and staring out the window into the inky night. He left her in peace for the ride back to Snake River. He shouldn’t have been hard on her about Jill, but then again maybe it was just wishful thinking that a leopard could change its spots.
Cassidy Conroy wasn’t exactly known for being a nice girl—expecting anything more from her might be asking too much. And it didn’t matter. Whatever else she was, she was his, first and foremost. His responsibility, his to protect. Whatever her faults were, he had plenty of his own, starting with the fact that he’d let this happen in the first place.
Sawyer wanted to get her home and drove as fast as he dared, tense and on the lookout for any wildlife that might decide to jump out in front of them. She needed to rest, but he was eager to get home, too, so they could talk, so he could understand how such a good night had ended so badly. The memory of her warm and willing underneath him in the spot just inches from where they were sitting now was playing hell on his nerves. Someone had ruined it for her, for both of them, and he was furious.
In the dark, he couldn’t see most of the familiar landmarks he knew so well but he’d made this drive so many times that his foot came off the gas instinctively just before the headlights illuminated the wooden arch declaring the entrance to Snake River Ranch. To him, it was home. To Cassidy, it must have seemed like salvation, as well, or else she would never have shown up here.
He headed down the gravel drive and pulled in next to her little Mercedes. He turned off the ignition but didn’t open the door. “What happened, Cassidy?” he finally asked.
She shifted in the seat and looked away. “I had an accident,” she insisted.
He gave her a long look from across the cab of the truck. “You want to tell me how that’s possible, since we’re sitting here next to your car and there’s not a scratch on it?”
She didn’t answer but blinked rapidly.
“Goddamn it, Cassidy. If you don’t tell me who hurt you, so I can hunt them down and—”
“I can’t.” She was crying now. Even in the dark, Sawyer could see the shudder of her body, the way she cupped her bruised face in her hands. Stupid, but he never would’ve thought her capable of crying. He’d never seen Cassidy Conroy appear any way other than completely composed, almost comically so in her rigidness. His Ice Princess had shattered, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
He did slide across the seat, though, and pull her into his arms.
She laid her head on his shoulder, and he stroked her hair, not knowing what else to do to comfort her.
He had to know. He had to know who had done this to his beautiful girl. And when he found them, no one was going to stop Sawyer from tearing them apart, piece by bloody piece. The guilt he felt was nearly overwhelming, and it threatened to drown him entirely.
He’d known, from the moment he’d held her in his arms earlier tonight, from the second he’d entered her, that Cassidy Conroy was his now. He’d let her walk away from him, though, instead of bringing her here, to his home, to his bed. She would’ve been safe here. But he hadn’t protected her, hadn’t known she’d need protecting.
He could damn well make certain that it never happened again, though. “Cassidy,” he whispered into her dark, silky hair.
She shook her head. “I can’t,” she repeated.
He sighed and kissed the top of her head. He didn’t need to know right this second, anyway. There was no way he was leaving her alone tonight. “Let’s go inside,” he said, willing to concede the point for now.
He walked around to the side of the truck and opened the door for her to help her down. She was still limping slightly but not like before. In the bunkhouse, he passed up the couch this time and headed straight for his small but clean and neat bedroom. He sat her down gently and helped her with her heels.
From the dresser he pulled out a T-shirt and a pair of shorts for her then turned his back so she could put them on. He gathered her dirty clothes and
laid them on the chair in the corner, intending to get to them in the morning. She looked exhausted, and he wasn’t faring much better at this point. It was still dark out, but the sun would rise soon enough, too soon in his opinion.
Sawyer knelt down beside the bed again, looking at her in the soft light coming underneath the bedroom door. “Where do you want me?”
She blinked up at him with her one good eye, and Sawyer’s heart lurched as he looked into her beautiful, damaged face. “Wh-What?”
“Where do you want me?” he asked again. “Do you want me here with you? In bed? Or I can sleep on the couch in living room. Where do you want me, Princess? What do you need?”
A sob caught in her throat, and he wondered if she was exhausted and maybe he’d pushed her too hard with all his questions and his insistence that they go to the hospital. For a moment he thought she might push him away, and she was well within her rights to do so. Instead, she reached out with a battered hand and tugged at his sleeve. “Don’t leave me,” she begged. “Don’t go.”
He nodded and stood, kicking off his boots. He left them on the floor and rounded the foot of the bed. He left his jeans on, because he didn’t know. God damn it, he just didn’t know what had happened to her. The thought of Cassidy being raped had him swallowing bile as he slid in between the sheets.
“I want to hold you, Princess. Can I hold you?”
She sobbed again, wiping away fresh tears. “Don’t,” she snapped. “Don’t.”
Sawyer looked at her, confused. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t call me that!”
He frowned but didn’t argue. Didn’t she know? Didn’t she realize that no matter what had happened to her, that she’d always be his princess? No. Clearly she didn’t. He wanted to tell her that no matter what, it wasn’t her fault, that she was damaged but not dirty. But she’d been through a lot. The scrapes and bloody gashes and bruises had shown him that much. It wasn’t the time to tell her that she belonged to him now.