Unfortunately, growing up that way had made for a close bond with her parents and deep loneliness for other kids. What relationships she did forge in college had fizzled after meeting Neil. One might say she’d sold her soul to the devil.
“You’re sure there’s not anybody?” her cowboy pressed. “Because you understand you aren’t driving yourself out of here?”
“There’s no one.” She cleared her throat, feeling foolish. Everyone had someone. Everyone except her it seemed. “I’m new to the area.”
“Well then, who’s Neil?”
“Neil?”
“I don’t mean to be nosy, ma’am, but while I was waiting for you to wake, you mumbled his name several times in your sleep. Maybe we can call him?”
She flushed, both in anger and embarrassment. Again, troublesome misgivings brimmed.
What else might she have discovered had she stayed that day? Listened to more instead of fleeing?
Had their entire relationship been a setup?
A glint in Mr. McBryde’s eyes told her he was reading her, gauging her reaction. “He’s no one to me, not anymore.”
How Hope meant that to the core of her. She couldn’t love Neil ever again if he were the last man on earth.
Some part of her even had begun to wonder if she ever truly had. If any of the past two years had been real or simply the buzz of living the high life.
“Are you running from something?”
“Running? Whatever makes you think that?”
“Marriage troubles? An angry ex?”
“I’m not running. I’m walking away. There’s a difference.”
Mr. McBryde’s gaze traced to the pale tan line that encircled her ring finger. “All right,” he said gently. “So, if you don’t mind me askin’, where were you headed last night? That rural road you were on doesn’t lead much of anywhere.”
It hit her then, the way his questions were stated. That analytical gleam to his eyes. “Are you the sheriff?” Could it be? Was there more to her accident than the norm?
“No.” The response came out almost fierce, as scarred in spirit as the old injury that twitched on his face. “Sorry, I mean…no, that would be my younger brother, Noah. He stopped by earlier but you were out cold so he said he’d come back later after he towed your car.”
As if he yearned to wipe it away, his hand brushed along the disfigurement. Only then did she notice the burn-scar flesh mottling his hands.
“Oh. Something about you. You seem—”
“I was a Texas Ranger for a couple years, a cop all my life. An explosion ended my career.”
He gestured to replace the hat to his head that he removed when introducing himself, popping a question to mind. “I thought Rangers wore white hats?”
“Yeah, well, like I said, not a Ranger anymore.” Turning his back to her, he ambled to the curtain that surrounded them and took a peek outside. A snort followed. “Doc’s falling asleep in his coffee. Sleepy town like this, the man’s not much used to dead-of-the-night emergencies.”
Momentarily, she dwelled on the hat. What about the saying, “Once a Ranger, always a Ranger”?
But it was none of her business. “I do apologize for all the trouble. Everything was fine one minute then the next, my car wouldn’t stop and a deer leapt out.”
“Maybe something jammed under the pedal?”
“No, definitely not. I stomped it to the floor. It wouldn’t stop. My brakes failed, I’m certain.”
“Strange. Were you drinking at all tonight? High?”
Clearly he was a man with investigative tendencies, so Hope refrained from feeling insulted.
“I don’t drink or do drugs.” Thank goodness she’d never taken to alcohol the way she had Neil—Hope never wanted to be that weak, infatuated person again. “It was silly of me to be out so late but I’ve been staying in hotels all week and I just wanted to be home. The drive was supposed to only be a few hours but I got lost and ended up chasing my own tail the better part of the day and night before I made it to Serenity Cove. You see, my father recently passed on and left me the Circle C. Actually, perhaps we’re neighbors. The property borders the lake and runs along—”
“Wait a sec. Miss Pearson?”
“Why, yes. Do you remember me?” What were the chances? Though Serenity Cove had always been home, at least in her heart, her family’s visits had been temporary at best.
Summers growing up, they’d vacationed at the Circle C, a very welcome break from the road, their days filled to the brim with horse riding and boating and bible school at the tiny white church that governed the small town. No place had ever felt more right than the Circle C and Serenity Cove, Texas—her father couldn’t have willed her a greater gift.
“Know you? I suppose we could say you just found your someone to call, Boss.”
* * * *
“Boss? Pardon?”
Behind cracked, thin-framed glasses, the most striking pair of big, innocent brown eyes he’d ever seen gazed up at Caleb, clearly confused. The bruise swelling the right side of her pretty face only added to the vulnerability of her appearance, compelling in its right.
What had she been mumbling in her slumber? Stop it! Neil, please! Stop! Frantic. Scared.
The woman before him was in trouble, though he wasn’t sure how. But he aimed to find out.
His cop-blood was definitely kicking in. Any normal man would’ve dropped her off with Doc and headed home to catch some Z’s, not waited around, itching to ask questions. But instinctively, from the first moment Caleb laid eyes on Hope, he found himself taken by just that—that and the oddly plaguing sense that she was his responsibility.
Now that Caleb knew who she was? Call it official.
Though he’d already introduced himself, Caleb once again removed his hat and held out his hand in greeting. “Caretaker and foreman of the Circle C, ma’am, at your service.”
Her appointed, unofficial guardian, he left off.
“Oh.” Hope’s bewildered surprise was evident as she once again shook his hand. “I didn’t…I… It’s nice to meet you, I mean.”
“I’m not what you expected?”
“It never occurred that my father hired someone to look after the place.” Casually, she broke the connection and slipped her fingers free, smoothing sunshiny curls that gleamed almost white from her face in a nervous gesture he’d noticed proved habit. “I suppose he would’ve had to though, right? A ranch can’t care for itself. Now that I think back, there usually was an older man who saddled my horse.”
“Yes, Doug retired last year.”
“Mmmm. Daddy always invited him to Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner.”
Never had anyone appeared sadder to him, the way her brows drew together and haunting filled her gaze. Like a little girl lost, she tugged at his heartstrings.
“Of course, Daddy was welcoming like that. Once, he saw a man hitchhiking and brought him along on the tour to work three days. Zeke ate with us just like family.”
Dangerous was Caleb’s first reaction but he wasn’t about to stain the memory for her. “Your father was very generous.”
Giving a little sniff, she forced a smile. “Yes. He always said that it’s our duty to do God’s work and God’s to decide what will,” she quoted as if answering Caleb’s silent criticism.
“I imagine it pains you to speak of your father.” His Christian nature taking over, Caleb reached again for her hand and wrapped it in his to comfort her. “I only met him during a few brief visits but was honored to accept a place on his ranch. Not only did I very much enjoy his program but the pleasure of simply knowing him. He was a man who understood the word on a level most could never grasp. I’m extremely sorry for his passing.” Gently, he squeezed her hand. “Should we pray?”
“I…no. But thank you.” For a moment she was a quiet, contemplative as if regretting her choice and he clung to her hand in reassurance, wishing she’d reconsider. Instead she pulled free. “May I ask what exactly you
do as foreman?”
“Everything and anything that needs done.” The Circle C, by Texas standards, wasn’t a large ranch at only eighty acres, nor was it working. “Mainly, I care for the horses and see to the grounds.”
“I see. Is it difficult?”
The scars. Undoubtedly, she noticed them. The deep purple line that cut across his cheek, making even a simple smile painful. The hated limp that would never heal, never go away. Always a reminder, a weakness he was forced to burden.
“I s’pose you’re concerned and rightfully so.” Self-consciously, Caleb turned away. Removing his hat, he smoothed his hair and resettled the Stetson upon his head, fighting back a flash of resentment. Would the Circle C be taken from him too? “I can assure you, I’m up to the job, ma’am.”
“No! No, it’s not your leg at all. It’s only that…” Her voice trailed off. “Well, I must be upfront and warn you that I didn’t anticipate the cost of a foreman. I’ll compensate you what your due but so you’re aware, I’m afraid I cannot afford to keep you on.”
“Uh-huh. I see.” Caleb took into account the strained edge to her voice as he turned back, feeling foolish for his sensitivity. God has a purpose, he reminded himself for the billionth time in the past couple years, difficult as it was to chew sometimes. “Know how to care for horses, do you? Ever run a tractor?”
The soft femininity about her told him that was a long shot, which made him forget his ire in awe of her fortitude. Here she was, still lying in a gurney not hours after an accident, without a single soul to call on other than him and what was she doing? Firing him.
“I’ll learn.” She squared up her shoulders. “I realize you’re probably terribly disappointed, Mr. McBryde, but I’ve no other choice than to let you go. I’m afraid I find myself unemployed. After my father’s funeral, I returned to Dallas to finish the final week of the school year then gave my notice. Until I find myself a local teaching position and even then, I’m afraid I’m on a budget. But please, feel free to stay in the guest cabin as long as necessary.”
“A teacher, huh?” Certainly she wasn’t bathing in liquid gold with that occupation. But it was admirable. Suited her, somehow. He wondered what grade. How many nose-picking fifth graders had fallen in love with her. “Didn’t a lawyer fully disclose your daddy’s will?”
The question clearly startled her. “It entailed a good deal. I requested we review it in detail at another date. Why?”
“Because, darlin’, if you had you’d know he set up a fund, entrusted to the local pastor’s discretion, for my position. Brian hired me not long back, with your father’s approval, when it was time for Doug Macintosh to put up his boots.” The ranch had made for the perfect place to heal, to think, after his extensive injuries and truth be told, at this point in life he was at a total loss as to what else to do with himself. The purpose, the existence, he’d worked so hard to achieve had been stripped away in an instant. “So you see, I’m paid for and at your service.”
To lighten the mood, he winked.
“Daddy did that?” Moisture pooled in her eyes in contrast to the relief that bloomed on her sweet little face as she blinked away emotion. “Yes, Daddy was always careful with the details.”
His daughter as well, or so Caleb gathered. When he’d initially met Cyrus Pearson, the preacher had made it abundantly clear he didn’t want just any man overseeing the property but one of Christian conviction and astute morals, who—in the event of his passing—would make certain Hope locked up at night, rotate her tires when needed and guard against break-ins. With his health collapsing, Cyrus had humbly accepted his days on earth were numbered and eagerly looked forward to joining his wife.
At the time, the job had sounded like the perfect way to get through the days for Caleb. After all, surely an ex-ranger could keep a small ranch safe and sound for one little lady.
Now, some part of him questioned if he’d bitten off more than he could chew.
He certainly hadn’t bargained for how pretty she’d be. Or the wary look that flashed in her gaze at the mention of her ex—one that immediately triggered suspicions.
Stop it! Neil, please! Stop!
Just what was that all about?
“Goodness,” she sighed. “At least I can be grateful for one thing going right today. It’ll be helpful to have you around. Safer,” she added with a laugh.
Safer? Because she’d never saddled a horse herself? Or another reason?
Oh yes, as she smiled in reprieve, Caleb couldn’t help wondering just what he’d committed himself to.
Chapter Two
“Whoa, wait a sec! What’s this?” From beneath Hope’s battered car, the booted feet of Sheriff Noah McBryde jutted out, his voice scored with bewilderment under all that metal. “Strange…very strange.”
With that, he disappeared entirely beneath the vehicle.
Caleb crouched down and peered in at his brother. “Cut lines?” Though the accident could easily be chalked up to any number of contributing factors, Hope had insisted her brakes failed. Triggered his suspicions.
Could someone have sabotaged her? Such as this Neil, whom she was clearly afraid of?
“Nope,” his brother answered. “Nothing obvious so far. They appear intact.”
See? There was his cop mind, always thinking dirty. Not everything had to be criminal, Caleb reminded himself. This wasn’t a case. Nor was he a Ranger any longer. Maybe Hope and her ex simply had a bad break-up.
Then his brother went and added a stumped, “Huh.”
Resisting the urge to crawl under there himself to spy what all the confusion was about, Caleb rested his backside to the trunk, crossed his legs and tapped impatiently for Noah’s verdict.
Figuring Hope would need something to wear besides a hospital gown—her clothes hadn’t fared well in the accident—he’d left her to some privacy while Doc reexamined her and hiked down to the tow yard, where he’d crossed paths with his little brother.
“Yeah, they’re definitely not cut. No signs of extreme rust, either.” Beneath the car, Noah shuffled around on the gravel, grunted and pulled himself out the driver’s side covered in dust and dirt, with a twig sticking out of his shaggy straw-colored hair. “Doesn’t mean they didn’t fail, just that it wasn’t vandalism.”
“You mean attempted murder.” The exact opposite of Caleb, his brother believed everyone was innocent until proven guilty and forgiven even then.
Noah gave a shake like a wet dog, dislodging the stick and scattering grime, then reached for the ridiculous tackle-covered fisherman’s hat he wore day-in, day-out. “A mechanic will have to have a better look. Anyway though, look what I found.”
Between his forefinger and thumb, he held a small black box about two-inches square.
“That looks like a tracking device.”
“Sure does.”
* * * *
“You check out fine, Hope.” With a wrinkly, sun-freckled hand, Doc flicked off his light and pocketed it in his shirt. “Just fine, all considering. Lots of rest the next few days and stay off the foot. I’ll supply you with crutches. Now, I assume Caleb will be looking after you?”
The question certainly nabbed her attention.
“Oh no, I’ll be—” She was about to declare she’d survive on her own when the office’s outer door opened, glimpsing the sound of a car driving by outside before clicking shut.
Great. Mr. McBryde returning, she assumed, whom she’d troubled enough already and hardly wanted to oppose upon further. Not to mention how the prospect of his presence set her stomach all a flutter. “Surely once I’m settled in, all I’ll need is a good rest. Nursing isn’t part of his job description.”
The idea of him working around the ranch was overwhelming enough. But having him in her home? The last thing she needed was an attractive man who made her pulse quicken hovering about.
What set her even less at ease? His offer of prayer.
Her faith was more tender than her bruised face at the moment a
nd she didn’t want to put that out there to a practical stranger.
“Now don’t give me a bunch of independent nonsense, young lady,” Doc warned. “I’ll reckon that’d force me to admit you as a patient. Someone has to look after you.”
“No sir, but I—”
Worried Mr. McBryde would overhear and feel compelled, Hope asked, “Perhaps you know of a teen or someone I can hire to look in on me?”
Really, she’d be okay. The headache was gone already.
Yet those were not Mr. McBryde’s boots echoing an uniquely slow thump-slide through the empty waiting room but men’s dress shoes, their thuds quick and quiet. Another patient maybe? The sheriff?
“No worries, I’ll ensure she’s fine.” Hope’s blood washed cold as the curtain brushed aside. Neil? “I came as soon as I heard.”
As soon as he heard? Who would’ve called him?
The distorted image of his face laughing heinously in her rearview mirror flashed through her mind. So much for her head feeling better.
A bouquet of red roses cradled in one arm, he stood looking suave and nonchalant in his polo shirt, right hand shoved in the pocket of his designer khakis. Radiating the same confident, regal air that’d once made her knees knock at the sight of his tall, dark and handsome self.
Now her knees knocked all right—but from another sensation all together. Chills crawled along her skin as he strode across the room and laid the flowers on the bedside table, placing his large, smooth palm to her forearm and stroking affectionately—oddly evoking the thought of Mr. McBryde’s calloused grasp, offering to pray with her.
“Aw, hey there. Don’t you look rough, Sug?”
Sug. The nickname made her want to vomit.
“Gee, thanks.” The utter, disgusting nerve of him! His touch made her cringe, wishing she could hide from the reality she’d once accepted this two-faced jerk’s frequent gifts of flowers. Allowed him to kiss her. Worse.
Look at him, pretending to care! To want her.
Thanks to him, Hope had learned all too harshly what risky business placing trust in men proved, much like the faith she placed in God to save her mother.
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