He flipped the windshield wipers on high, but when he reached for the gearshift, she grabbed his wrist with a hand as cold as death. “We can’t. I can’t—or next time, I’ll be dead.”
His mind leaped back to the gunshots fired this morning. “Wait? Are you telling me it’s all really been about you? That the sniper on the ranch this morning was related to someone running you off the road. Why?”
Her eyes widened, her face going even paler as she shook her head. “I—I have no idea. I only know this was no accident. And when he first came up, I saw what looked like a gun barrel hanging out the window. That’s how I knew that pulling over to wave him past w-would only g-get me killed.” A shudder ran through her entire body. “Just like it’ll get me killed if he finds out I’ve survived this.”
He sensed there was more to it, something she was too afraid to tell him. And sitting here wasn’t doing a thing to get her warm and dry, so he made the best decision he could.
“Okay, Andrea, I’m taking you back to the house and getting you cleaned up and put to bed, on the condition you’ll explain this later. And I swear to you, you’re going to see a doctor—”
“No. Please, no. If anybody finds out and it gets back...”
Praying he was making the right decision, Ian said, “Just home then, for now, and I’ll keep you safe, Andie.”
She gave no answer, but instead burrowed deeper into Zach’s barn jacket.
Within minutes, she was fast asleep—or unconscious. He wasn’t sure which. Feeling in over his head, he called his brother and explained what he knew, right down to Andrea’s terror of anyone finding out about it.
“Maybe I should be heading in the opposite direction, for the ER,” Ian said, glancing over at her pale face. “If I did the wrong thing, and she ends up...” The word dying caught in his throat.
“There’s a retired doctor from Amarillo who’s recently moved back to the family homestead outside of Rusted Spur. Let me make a call, see what it would take to get him here to check her out.”
“Sounds like a plan, bro. Thanks, and see you in twenty.”
Once Ian ended the call, he pushed his speed a little higher, driving as fast as he dared considering the rainy conditions.
But as he neared the turnoff for the ranch, his hurry—along with, he suspected, the fact that he was driving Zach’s truck—drew the wrong attention...attention that came in the form of flashing red lights in the rearview mirror and the long wail of the sheriff’s siren.
Chapter 9
As Ian bailed out of the truck, Zach was right there, his voice a low rumble. “Why the hell would you bring that son of a bitch here?”
Still muddy from the rescue, Ian shoved his damp hair from his eyes and glanced at Canter, who was climbing out of his SUV. “Didn’t exactly have a choice,” Ian told his brother. “He lit me up and pulled me over while I was haulin’ ass to get here. Was all I could do to talk him into giving me an escort home instead of to jail.”
“Last thing we need is this yahoo in the thick of things,” Zach said before looking over his shoulder as Jessie came running outside, heedless of the rain.
Considering that the accident had happened on Canter’s turf, Ian figured they would have ended up having to deal with the lawman one way or another, but Andrea was going to freak if she happened to see him. So far she hadn’t reawakened, even when he’d shaken her to let her know they were home. “You reach that retired doctor?”
Zach nodded. “He’s on his way, and Mama says you should take Andrea straight up to the guest suite, so she and Althea can keep Eden out of everybody’s hair.”
Jessie opened the passenger-side door, where Ian, Zach and Sheriff Canter all crowded behind her.
“Andrea, can you hear me?” Jessie was asking her. “Can you open your eyes or squeeze my hand?”
“Better let me take her up,” Zach said.
Ian slipped past him and announced, “I’ve got this,” before lifting Andrea carefully out of the front seat.
As he hurried to the front door, she moaned and murmured, “No hospital. Too many people.”
“We’re not at the hospital. We’re home,” he assured her. “I’m taking you to your room and putting you to bed.”
Once he’d gotten her upstairs, Ian sat her on the bed’s edge, where he moved to take off her shoes only to see she’d already lost them somewhere. “Better get her out of these wet clothes.”
“Right.” Zach spared Canter, who’d come up with them, an uncomfortable look. “How ’bout if we leave this part to Ian and Jessie, and you and I can head back down and keep a lookout for the doc.”
“You promised to explain all this as soon as you got her here,” Canter reminded Ian.
“That I did. And I will, as soon as Andrea’s taken care of. And you’ll get the chance to talk to her, too, but not before she’s ready.”
“Just see you keep that promise, or I swear to you, I’ll—”
“For once in your life, Canter, can you hold off on the bluster?” Zach demanded. “It’s bad enough you’re lying in wait outside the ranch grounds for a chance to pull over and harass us—”
“Now just hold it right there, mister. You high-and-mighty Rayfords aren’t the only ones who pass by on that road, and I’m doin’ your brother a damned favor, takin’ the circumstances into account and not arresting him for—”
The argument might have escalated if Jessie hadn’t come into the room at that point with a short, round-bellied man with thinning gray hair and wire-rimmed round glasses at her side. Still wearing a rain-spotted jacket and khaki pants, he carried an old-fashioned-looking medical bag at his side.
“This is Dr. Rosenfield,” Jessie said. “Doctor, this is Andrea. Thank you so much for coming here to—”
Rosenfield nodded a greeting and cut in. “I’ll need everyone out of the room.” He set his bag on the bed and opened it. “Everyone but you, that is, Miss—?”
“I’m Zach’s wife, Jessie,” she said, “and of course, I’ll stay and help. The rest of you, downstairs. You, too, Ian.”
The others left, but Ian hesitated in the doorway.
Glancing his way, Jessie promised, “The minute we know anything, I promise you’ll be the first to hear.”
Zach grabbed at his arm and pulled him from the room, then gently closed the bedroom door behind them. “Come on, bro. Let’s go downstairs and get out of the man’s way. Or better yet, let’s find you some dry clothes before Mama sees all that mud. I’m sure the sheriff can at least wait for you to do that. Can’t you, George?”
To Ian’s surprise, Canter looked almost sympathetic as he nodded. “Go take care of yourself, sure, as long as you’re not too long about it.”
Ian returned to the family room in record time, more out of anxiety over Andrea than any worries over the sheriff’s request, but Zach informed him the doctor hadn’t yet come downstairs. Though Zach had filled in Canter on the basics, the sheriff asked Ian a number of questions about what had led up to Andrea’s rescue and what she’d said once he had gotten her to shore.
“I understand she seemed worried about whatever had caused her to lose control,” Canter said from the oversize leather sofa across from its twin, where the two brothers were sitting. Unlike his mother’s fussy formal living room, this area had been decorated with men in mind—big men, clearly at home with the huge fireplace, the mounted longhorn bull’s head and the weathered saloon doors that could be opened by remote to reveal an enormous wide-screen TV.
“Not whatever. Whoever,” Ian corrected, remembering their conversation. “She was very definite about it. Told me a big pickup or an SUV, maybe, came up from behind and bumped her. Said she saw a gun sticking out the window before it bumped her.”
Canter frowned, seeming to consider before he shook his head. “I know she
was pretty stirred up about that whole incident this morning, too. You think it’s possible she got things twisted all around and mixed up, in her condition?”
Rising from his seat, Ian paced the room, his clean boots carrying him from a spotted cowhide to the tobacco-colored wood floor. “You’re saying she dreamed up this second attack? Next thing I know, you’ll be telling me this morning’s shooting was just thunder.”
“No, I wouldn’t say that. I found fresh tire tracks out there where you said, for one thing. No shell casings, but that only proves he had brains enough to go ahead and pick ’em up.”
“But you’re not convinced that Andrea was attacked this evening?”
“She looked pretty out of it to me,” Canter said. “You can’t expect too much sense out of anyone in that kind of condition. Hell, you yourself were babbling all kinds of craziness that first day after your brother picked you up and brought you back home.”
Ian ground his teeth but couldn’t deny it. He’d been half out of his mind, so dehydrated and overheated that no one had gotten any sense out of him for days. But the sheriff hadn’t heard Andrea as she’d described another vehicle knocking her car right through the guardrail. Whether or not the sheriff wanted to believe it, Ian was convinced someone had meant to kill her.
At the sound of footsteps on the east wing staircase, where the guest suites were located, all three men went to the landing. His mother, who had been setting up Eden with a movie in the playroom, came out as well, worry lining her thin face. Though she hadn’t seemed to like Andrea to begin with, it had taken her only a day or two to warm up to her polite and thoughtful houseguest, remarking—after slanting a pointed look toward Jessie—about how it was so nice to finally have a young lady around the house who seemed to enjoyed listening to the more senior generation.
“Will Andrea be all right, Harold?” she asked the man who had once been her former classmate.
He sighed and said, “She’s not in the kind of shape that would warrant an airlift, not that they’d fly in this weather anyway. But I can tell you if she were my wife or my daughter, I’d put her in the car and take her to the hospital myself, to rule out a serious head injury and monitor her lungs for infection, since she inhaled so much creek water. Her core temperature needs to come up, too. Poor girl’s teeth are chattering nonstop.”
“Then I’m taking her to the Marston ER,” Ian announced, with Zach and their mother both chiming in with their agreement.
The doctor shook his head, his jowls wobbling a bit. “I wish you luck with that, young man, because she’s digging in her heels and swearing she won’t go.”
“We’ll see about that,” Ian said, already heading for the stairs.
Before he reached the suite, he heard the water running. He stopped to knock at the bedroom door and then went in when there was no answer. “Andrea? Jessie?” he called, seeing neither of them, but the bathroom door was standing open, offering him a clear view of the partly fogged mirror.
He froze, transfixed by the hazy image of Andrea, her back to him as she stood nude beside the bathtub, her skin pale and her long limbs shaky as Jessie helped her step into the steaming water. He knew he should turn away, should respect Andrea’s privacy, but he couldn’t make himself move, couldn’t do anything but stare as memories from their time together rose like whorls of mist...
Memories of a chilly night in a friend’s borrowed condo on Lake Tahoe, where they’d relaxed in the hot tub and stared up at blazing stars. A night where the possibilities had seemed so limitless and his love for her so vast that his proposal had slipped out before he’d had the chance to think through how his career would affect her...
At least not until she’d looked up at him, her damp eyes gleaming, and whispered, “You know about my mother, don’t you? Know what my father’s lies cost my family. So just promise me, Ian, that you’ll always tell me the truth. Promise me that, and I swear we’ll work through whatever else this life throws at us.”
His heart had been so full that night, his desire to lay claim to her so all-consuming, that he’d told her what she needed to hear, beginning their engagement with a lie. He’d make it right, he told himself, explain what he was allowed to as soon as she’d been cleared by the agents assigned to background check potential spouses, and he would make their time together worth whatever sacrifices they were making for his country.
“There you go. Careful, now,” Jessie said to Andrea as she reached to shut off the water. “It isn’t too hot, is it?”
“T-too hot? Is that even possible?” Weak and shaky as it was, the sound of Andrea’s voice filled him with relief.
Jessie snorted. “Are you kidding? Ian’ll skin me alive if I end up boiling you like a Maine lobster.”
“It’s not too hot,” Andrea assured her before she was interrupted by a fit of coughing. “I—I’m awake now, really. So there’s no need for you to babysit me.”
“Sorry, kiddo,” Jessie told her as she rose to grab a towel off the counter, “but you heard what the doc—” Her eyes widened in surprise as her gaze met Ian’s in the mirror.
His face burned in response, as though he’d been caught peeping into windows.
“Excuse me, Jessie. I—I just thought I’d come and check on— I wanted to see about getting her over to the ER.”
Jessie turned to look at him directly before she did a double take in the direction of the mirror. When she rolled her eyes at him, he sighed and threw his hands up, feigning innocence even though he knew he was busted.
To the sound of splashing, Andrea called, “Ian, there’s no need for that. I’ll be fine. I just need to warm up with a bath and tea or something. That’s all.” She coughed again.
He took a step forward. “But you could have a serious concussion, and your lungs—”
“I’ll give you a serious concussion if you don’t get out of this bathroom right this minute,” she said.
Glancing directly at her for the first time, he saw her peeking over the outsize tub’s edge, trying to hide herself from view.
“Or better yet,” Andrea continued, “I might see if Jessie’s up for loaning me Gretel to stand guard.”
“Don’t put me in the middle of this,” Jessie said. “Didn’t I tell you before you ought to listen to the doctor?”
“I’m not— I can’t—” Andrea choked out, forgetting about covering herself as her hands moved to her face. “If he finds out I’m alive—”
“If who does?” Jessie asked her.
Andrea shook her head. “I—I don’t know. I only know that someone clearly wants me dead.”
“Or someone’s trying to get to me by hurting you,” Ian said, “but the thing is, Andrea, I’m afraid your secret’s out already. After you conked out in the front seat, the sheriff pulled us over. There was no way I could get out of telling him what happened, no way to keep him from following us here to question—”
“Oh, no.” There was a splash as she stood abruptly, clearly beyond caring whether he saw her glistening, pale body. But before either he or Jessie could reach her again, she sank back down, her eyes fluttering and rolling back in her head.
“Andie!” he shouted, charging past Jessie and leaning down to grasp Andrea beneath the arms to keep her from submerging.
Instead of giving in to the fainting spell, she shook it off moments later and pushed his hands away. “I—I’m fine,” she said. “I stood up too quickly, that’s all.”
“If you’re so fine,” he asked her, “then why are those tears I see rolling down your face?”
* * *
Andrea struggled against the fear that whoever had been sent to silence her forever was going to strike again. But almost worse was the way she’d lost control of her life, lost everything that she’d thought had mattered, within the space of a few hours.
Too weak to co
ntinue fighting the issue, she let Jessie and Ian help her from the tub, then dry and dress her in a pair of clean sweats Jessie found for her. Afterward, she was vaguely aware of Ian carrying her downstairs and telling Sheriff Canter his questions would have to wait until the next morning or whenever she was strong enough to talk.
She drifted off again, and the remainder of the evening was a blur of time spent in the truck and another exam at the hospital before the doctor decided to admit her overnight for observation.
Each time she opened her eyes, Ian was right there, standing vigil so she could rest. When the doctor asked him to step out during her examination, he politely but firmly let them know that he was going nowhere. Now, as she looked up from the hospital bed, she spotted him beside the window, peering out into the night.
“What time is it?” she asked, her voice thick with sleep and whatever had been in the shot they’d given her.
Her guardian turned, half of his impossibly handsome face lit by the parking lot security lights outside and the light spilling from the room’s bathroom, the door of which had been left cracked open. “About one or so. How’re you feeling?”
She took a moment to assess, and found the pain in her head had faded to a dull ache. “Mostly guilty, right this minute. Except for when the nurse comes in to check my vitals, I’ve been sleeping like the dead while you’ve been keeping guard all this time. You must be exhausted.”
“I wanted you to feel safe. That’s the only thing that matters.”
Warmth spilled into her chest, a brand of gratitude she had no name for. But with it came the understanding of how dangerous it was, feeling this way toward him, how it could end up getting one or both of them killed. “Sit down, at least, please. Come and sit beside me.”
He strode across the room and pulled one of two chairs close but couldn’t seem to settle. “Here, let’s get you some water. The nurse brought some fresh a little bit ago.”
Once she’d taken a few sips to appease him, he raked his fingers through his short, dark hair. “It should have damned well been me in the hospital, me in the water. Because I know it has to be my fault, the shooting, all of it.”
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