When Dr. Anthrax—the name she’d given him because her muzzy head couldn’t remember his actual name, but she thought it was close—had asked if he could step out to give her fiancé instructions before she was released, she’d thought maybe she’d been hurt worse than they’d told her because a huge chunk of her memory was gone, but when she’d looked confused the doctor had described this mythical beast as “this tall,” raising his hand well above his own head, with shoulders “this wide”—it clicked. Preacher.
He was here, waiting for the doctor to tell him all the dos and don’ts, blah-blah-blah, she’d already forgotten. The only thing she cared about was her next dose of pain reliever and the pill the doctor had promised would help with her nausea.
Thank goodness Preacher was here because her car was all the way back in Dead Horse, and one instruction that had stuck was that she wasn’t to drive for at least a week.
The curtain swished, and Preacher walked into the suddenly tiny space, sucking up all the oxygen, which explained her sudden breathlessness. The man looked a little frantic until his gaze met hers, and then his shoulders relaxed and he suddenly smiled.
She returned the smile, feeling relieved to see a familiar face when she’d awoken surrounded by strangers and embarrassed by her predicament. After all, she had a huge goose egg on her head, and a chunk of hair missing under her bandage where they’d shaved part of her scalp to give her a couple of stitches. Not that he could see it, but how embarrassing was it that she’d managed to fall and hit her head like an idiot?
“Hey there,” he said, his voice sounding a little raspy.
“They’re cutting me loose,” she said, wincing a bit at speaking because it felt like her voice was bouncing around inside her head.
“The doctor gave me instructions I have to follow.”
“Good thing,” she said in a smaller voice, “because I can’t remember a thing he said except that I can’t drive for a week.”
“We have to make a stop at a pharmacy before we head back home.”
She started to frown then stopped because the movement felt like it was pulling on her stiches. “I don’t have my purse. How will we get into my house?”
“Your purse is in my car.”
“You thought of everything. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I have orders to make sure you rest for a week.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I’ll probably get pretty grumpy,” she admitted.
“No worries. I’m pretty tough. You won’t hurt my feelings.”
She chuckled then groaned.
“You’re not supposed to work that brain of yours. Just rest until the nurse comes with your meds. Do you remember anything about what happened?”
She shook her head. “The doctor asked me, but I don’t remember hitting my head. Last thing I do recall was mopping the shop floor. I was hurrying.”
“You don’t remember seeing anyone around?”
“No, why?” The doctor had looked at her oddly when she’d said that, too.
“No reason,” Preacher muttered. “We’ll sort everything out later when you’re feeling better.”
“Okay.” She closed her eyes because her head swam for a second and her stomach roiled. “You taking me home?” she asked, not opening her eyes.
“I am.”
“S’good. Don’t think I could make the drive.”
His big, warm hand closed around hers.
She smiled and drifted off.
* * *
She stirred when she heard the turn signal ping. She tried to pull herself upright but didn’t have the energy. Preacher had set her in the front seat of his SUV then lowered the back of her seat so that she was practically lying down for the trip back to Dead Horse.
“We’re home,” he said beside her. “Let me stop then I’ll help you up.”
“I have a bump on my head. I’m not helpless.”
Preacher grunted but didn’t otherwise respond. Something that annoyed her, but she realized she was entering the grumpy state she’d warned him about.
The car halted. Preacher let himself out of the vehicle. The car door thumped, and she winced at the sound. She heard him call out to someone, and again, she tried to pull herself up to see who the hell was at her house, but before she managed, her door opened.
Preacher bent into the opening, unbuckled her seatbelt, then lifted her into his arms.
“I can walk. It’s just a concussion. I didn’t crack my skull.”
“I know. But the doctor said to rest. So, relax. I’ve got you.”
“This is silly. The nurse even let me go to the bathroom by myself.”
“While she held you up to keep you from falling.”
She pulled back her head to glare at him. “Don’t you get any ideas…”
His mouth twitched, but he was looking forward.
“I’ll get the door,” a deep voice said.
“How can he get the door? He needs a key,” she grumbled.
“No, he doesn’t,” Preacher drawled.
Turning her head slowly so she didn’t get dizzy, she saw that Cage Morgan was opening her front door—without a key. Had she forgotten to lock her front door? And second question, what the hell was he doing here?
Before she could ask Preacher what was going on, he carried her across the threshold and headed straight for the hallway to her bedroom. The smell of food cooking—chicken, she was pretty sure, wafted all around her. Despite her slight nausea, she realized she was hungry. When she glanced toward the kitchen, she saw a woman standing in the doorway. She was tall with long dark hair, stunning really, and very pregnant. Cage’s wife, Elaine, she knew because they’d come for sandwiches one afternoon and Elaine had introduced herself.
Again, she wondered what was happening. She’d bumped her head. She had to rest. Dropping off a casserole would be fine, but she was pretty sure the woman had taken over her kitchen to cook in the late-night hours.
Elaine gave her a little wave, and Laura forced a smile and lifted her hand, but Preacher was already moving into the hallway, cutting off her view of who else might be about. She wasn’t sure how she felt about having her private space invaded by so many strangers when she felt like hell.
Preacher stood beside the bed, still holding her, and she watched with more than a little bemusement as Cage pulled back her coverlet and sheet and plumped her pillows. Then her guy lowered her to the mattress. The second her head sank into her soft pillow, she moaned. It felt so good.
She barely noticed him taking off her shoes and sliding her legs under the covers. A hand caressed her cheek. She blinked open her eyes.
“Baby, rest. I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”
With a vague nod, she closed her eyes again. He was so nice. They all were. She wasn’t sure what Cage and Elaine were doing here; maybe Preacher had enlisted them in an overabundance of caution, but she’d be fine. The doctor had no doubt told Preacher what to look out for. She was too tired to worry. She had a headache. Her shoulder ached. The nausea was dissipating. Her mind zipped to the shop, and she wondered what was going to happen there. Whether Katie would open it by herself or simply put up a sign to tell her customers they were closed. Didn’t matter. She was so dang tired.
Then she thought about how she’d been hurt. About the odd expressions the doctor and Preacher had worn when she’d mentioned her fall. Had something else happened? As she started to drift off, she remembered one more thing. She’d been taking out the trash, feeling excited and light-hearted, looking forward to meeting Preacher here because she’d looked forward to getting more of what he’d given her inside her office.
Only…something had happened. She frowned, unable to wipe away the fog. Ah well, she’d think about it later. Right now, she’d follow doctor’s orders.
* * *
“Is it okay that she’s sleeping so soon after a concussion?” Elaine asked, as she sat with her hands wrapped around a coffee mug at the kitchen table.
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Preacher nodded. “It’s old school, keeping someone awake after suffering a concussion. You need rest—your body and your brain.”
“Did he have any concerns?”
“The usual. Said she could be dizzy, disoriented. He said the fact she couldn’t remember how she was injured is pretty normal.”
“Sucks,” Cage said. “It would’ve been nice if she could’ve told us who attacked her.”
“The doctor warned me before I went into see her to be prepared because she didn’t remember she has a fiancé.”
Cage snorted. “Does she know she doesn’t have one?”
Preacher shrugged. “I don’t think so. Not sure.”
“Well, you don’t look very worried,” Elaine teased.
“I’m not.”
One dark eyebrow arched. “So…you and Laura…?”
He cleared his throat. “We were supposed to meet here for…dinner.”
She nodded her head, amusement in her eyes. “Well, I don’t know her yet, but I already like her. Her kitchen’s cute.”
“It’s pink,” Cage said, his tone dead even.
“I’ve been wondering what to do to ours.”
“It’s not gonna be pink,” he said, giving her a glare.
She chuckled then winced. Her hand went to her belly. “That was some kick.”
Preacher watched as Cage reached over and slid his hand under hers. A moment later, he watched as Cage’s hand visibly jumped. “Gotta be a boy. He’s gonna play football.”
Elaine’s gaze cut toward Preacher. “You curious how it feels?”
Preacher felt color creep across his face. “No,” he lied. He wasn’t about to touch his boss’s wife.
She grabbed his hand off the table. Because he didn’t want to be impolite, he let her place his palm against her belly on the same spot Cage had just felt. He couldn’t believe how hard her stomach felt, how round. Then he felt something thump against his palm. His eyes widened. “Well, damn,” he said, slowly withdrawing his hand.
Elaine lifted her chin to Cage. “He’s playing football over my dead body. Do you know how many injuries—”
“He’ll be ready. I’ll make sure of it.”
“And if she’s a girl?”
“Then she’ll play soccer.”
Elaine gave Preacher a smile. “Watch him be a mathlete.”
“He can be smart and still play ball,” Cage mumbled, a frown drawing his eyebrows together.
Preacher swallowed. “Not sure football’s such a great idea. I knew a kid who blew out his knees. Walks with a cane now.”
If possible, Cage’s frown deepened. “I played. I’m just fine.”
Preacher leaned toward Elaine and whispered, “You have a lot of years to change his mind.”
A knock sounded on the door. Preacher left the kitchen to answer it then stood back as Marti and someone he’d never seen before walked through the door.
Marti hooked her thumb over her shoulder at the stranger. “That’s the new guy, Pierce Hardman. Goes by Hardman.” She barked a laugh.
The stranger shook his head. “She asked what my ‘handle’ was in the Navy. Now, she won’t let it go.”
Preacher held out his hand and grinned. “She’s a hardass.”
Hardman nodded. “I kind of like it.”
“She has a boyfriend.”
“Who she sees maybe once a month when she’s horny.”
Preacher’s chest shook. “And I bet she said it just like that, too.”
Preacher led Hardman to the kitchen. They both halted in the doorway and stared over at Marti, who was bending over Elaine to give her a hug. Marti’s hand settled on her belly, and her eyes widened a moment later.
Elaine caught his gaze and winked. Preacher had no doubt the new guy would be feeling the strong kick of Cage’s child before too long as well. There was something magical about her growing belly. Something…
“I better go check on Laura and make sure she’s resting.”
Hardman nodded and strode toward the hunters gathered around the pregnant woman who looked like a queen holding court.
When he opened Laura’s door, he noted that she hadn’t moved since he’d left her. Nearing her, he reached out and brushed back her hair then leaned down to kiss her forehead, just below the bandage encircling her head.
His chest tightened. Already, she’d crept inside him. He cared. And already, he could envision her belly swelling with his child. Not a thought he’d ever had with any woman he’d ever dated, but then again, he’d come to Dead Horse to set down roots. Meeting someone like Laura, a decent woman who’d make a fine wife, seemed very natural. Fated, even.
He hoped like hell she was beginning to have some feelings for him, too. Yes, he’d shown her pleasure, but now, he had to show her he was husband material. That he could take care of her, protect her, provide for her.
She stirred, and her hand touched his thigh. “Sorry I’m such a bother.”
“Stop,” he said softly. “I’m doing exactly what I want, and I’m exactly where I want to be.”
Her mouth curved. “Guess I’m just lucky that I found you when I did,” she said then drew in a deep breath, her jaws stretching.
“You should rest.”
“I’m hungry. Thought I smelled chicken.”
“I’m pretty sure she made homemade chicken soup. I’ll bring you a cup.”
“I don’t want to eat it in bed.”
“Then I’ll take you into the kitchen, but be prepared. More folks are here.”
Her eyebrows drew together, and she patted the bed beside her. “Sit for a minute. Tell me what’s going on. What am I missing?”
Preacher sighed and sat beside her. He reached for her hand and smoothed his thumb over the back of it as he held it. “You didn’t injure yourself in a fall. You were attacked.”
She blinked, but she didn’t look all that surprised. Her eyes filled, glistening in the near darkness. “So, you’re all here to protect me?”
“Yes. Until this guy’s found and stopped, we’re here for you.”
Laura lay there for a moment, her gaze flitting around her room before coming back to him. “That sonofabitch.”
Her quietly spoken epithet made him smile. “That he is.”
“Well, he picked on the wrong girl. My fiancé’s going to kick his ass.”
Chapter 10
Laura sat at the table with the women, eating a bowl of Elaine’s homemade chicken soup. Preacher watched as she ate slowly, occasionally smiling at something one of the women said, but looking as though her energy was quickly flagging. He’d pull the plug in just a few minutes, but he did want her to get some food in her stomach before she went back to bed.
“So, she doesn’t remember any of it,” Hardman said, standing beside Preacher with Cage on his other side.
“No, she thought she fell and hit her head.”
Cage nodded. “Fig’s still going through feeds, looking to see if anyone wearing that hoodie was in the shop at any time that day after she installed the system. Lacey and Dagger are running down leads. They don’t have much to go on. They’ve looked into Bob Updike’s background, but it appears that at the time she was attacked, he was at his place of business, locking the doors—per the sheriff, who verified it himself. Lacey’s going to hit up Ethan Palmer at Dead Horse Realty. Ethan will know if someone else was looking to buy her store. If this has to do with intimidating her, trying to force her to close, then he might be able to give us someone else to follow up on.”
Preacher sighed. “The community, her customers, seem to like her. She’s built a popular business.”
“Someone has a bone to chew,” Cage said. “Has she ever mentioned anyone she’s dated, someone who might have a grudge or want to get closer to offer help?”
Preacher frowned. “She told me she hasn’t dated a lot. The only man I saw who seemed disappointed seeing me with her was Bob. But I seriously don’t think he has it in him to do this. He seemed pre
tty decent both times I spoke with him.”
“Well, Sheriff Brown’s already scratched him off his list.”
“It’s a small town. Everyone knows everyone. Somebody has to have an idea who’s responsible.”
Cage’s mouth tightened. “I’m going to have Lacey speak with Nadine at the diner. She’s gotten friendlier since we first arrived. That woman’s got her ear to the ground. She might have some ideas of who we should pursue. In the meantime…”
“I really appreciate the fact everyone’s pitching in,” Preacher said.
“We’ll keep her safe. You stick close, but be sure you get some rest, too. You won’t do her any good if you don’t. If she allows it, we’ll keep a hunter in the house who’ll stay awake at night and do periodic rounds of the yard.”
“You really think that’s necessary? All the attacks have occurred at Deadly Delights.”
“Fletch and I have talked. He’d rather we cover all bases than risk her safety. The sheriff is having his deputies drive frequently by her shop to make sure there’s no more mischief there.”
“She’ll appreciate that. I’m going to have my hands full keeping her home as it is, once she’s back on her feet.”
Another knock sounded at the door, and Preacher glanced over at Laura who gave a little eyeroll. His mouth twitched as he strode back down the hall to answer the door.
As soon as he opened the door, Lacey Jones stepped through the entrance. “Which way?”
He pointed toward the hall and the light gleaming from the kitchen.
Dagger walked in behind her with bags hanging off his arms sporting the local grocer’s logo.
“More food?” Preacher asked, eyebrows rising.
“And a couple of fluffy pajama sets. Lacey’s idea.”
Preacher waved an arm to indicate Dagger should head to the kitchen, and then glanced out the door to make sure no one else was coming before he locked the door.
As he neared the kitchen, he heard the women speaking more animatedly, which worried him. Laura was already tired, and the doctor had said her brain needed to rest just as much as her body. He had to get her out of there, no matter if she felt she should be there with so many guests inside her house.
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