NINTEEN

Every bone ached like she’d been thrown from a bucking bronco. Allie tried to open her eyes, but they felt glued shut. Her face felt swollen. Had she fallen from a horse?

She tried to move and groaned when the pain intensified. Even the softness of the sheets scraped her wounded face.

“Lie still,” Rick’s voice spoke in her ear. His hand smoothed her hair.

“Wha-what happened?” She managed to get her eyes open.

“We had an accident.”

Her memory flooded back. The wheel coming off, the crash.“Betsy!” She tried to rise up.

“She’s fine.” His hands pressed her back against the pillow.

She squinted through slitted eyes. The sunlight filtered through blinds in an unfamiliar room. “Where am I?”

“The hospital in Alpine. You’ve got a concussion.”

She managed to focus on Rick’s face. Drawn and wearing a worried frown, he sat in a chair pulled up to the side of her bed. “Where’s Betsy?”

“Grady and Dolly took her. I told them to be careful to watch her,” he said when she frowned.

“I need to get out of here. She needs me.” Panic raced across her face again. “Jon’s parents. Where are they?”

“I don’t know. They probably went to the house for dinner, but we never made it home.”

“Make sure Grady knows not to let them have Betsy.” She struggled against his hands again. “I’ve got to get out of here.”

“The doctors haven’t released you yet,” he said.

“I don’t care. I want to go home.” Strange that she thought of the ranch as home already. She knew she couldn’t resist the pressure of his hands. “Could I have some water?”

When he turned to get her water glass, she rose from the pillow and swung her feet to the side of the bed. Her head swam, but she began pulling the needles out of her arms. The blackness receded, and the nausea began to subside. Her head still ached, but it wasn’t enough to stop her from getting to her daughter.

“Stop! What are you doing?” Rick sprang toward her, spilling the water in the cup onto her lap.

With all the needles out, she stood, though shaky. “I’m going home. Where are my clothes?” Blood trickled down her arm from the holes left by the IVs.

“Mrs. Bailey, what are you doing?”A nurse’s rubber soles squeaked on the floor as she rushed into the room. She grabbed at Allie’s arm.

Allie shook her off, practically falling into Rick. She looked up at him, letting him see all her hope and desperation. “I can’t stay here. Betsy needs me.”

“She’s fine, Allie.” Rick took her by the shoulders. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to her.”

“You’re here,” she pointed out. “Two hours away from her.” She pulled away from his grip and nearly fell. “Where are my clothes? I’m checking myself out.”

The nurse bit her lip and glanced at Rick.“We don’t have the right to keep her,” she said, her tone apologetic. “You’ll have to sign a paper stating you are leaving against the advice of your doctor,” she told Allie. She dug white tape out of the pocket on her smock. “Let me stop the bleeding.”

Allie held out her arm. “Hurry, please. My clothes?”

The nurse put a cotton ball and tape over her wrist and pressed it down. “They were cut off you. I’m afraid there’s not much left of them.” She went to the small closet and drew out a plastic bag full of material. She unzipped it and pulled out the remains of Allie’s denim skirt and blouse. “They’re not wearable.”

“I can’t go home naked.” For such a small problem, it felt overwhelming, and Allie wanted to sit on the edge of the bed and burst into tears. She gritted her teeth and forced back her emotion.

“I can give you another gown to put on backward,” the nurse said. “Just a minute.” She disappeared through the door.

“Have a little trust,” Rick said. “Grady and Dolly will take care of Betsy.”

“She’s going to be beside herself, Rick. I’m sure she saw the ambulance cart me off all bloody and unconscious.”

“I called and had Grady put her on the phone. I told her you were going to be okay.”

“That’s not the same as seeing me. I’m fine, it’s just a concussion.” In truth, her head was hurting more and more, and she felt dizzy and disoriented. But she’d be all right when she got home in her own bed.

“Here, you can talk to her.” He pulled out his phone and punched in the number. “Grady? Put Bets on again.” He waited a moment, then passed the phone over to her.

“Betsy? It’s Mommy. I just wanted you to know I’m okay. I’m coming to get you, okay?” She could hear breathing on the other end and the sound of a sob. “Mommy’s okay, sweetie. Don’t you worry. You have fun with Courtney.”

A moment later Grady came on the line. “She’s smiling, Allie. You sure you’re okay?”

“Just sore. We’re coming after her now.”

“You’re sure the doctors say you can?”

“The doctors don’t know everything. Listen, Grady, if Jon’s parents try to take Betsy with them, don’t let them have her.”

“I won’t. She’s safe with us, Allie. Rest easy.”

“Thanks.” She closed the phone and handed it to Rick.

He slipped it into his pocket. “I wish you’d stay. She knows you’re okay now.”

“I’ll be better in my own bed.”

And when she held Betsy.

She gave him a curious stare. “How’d you get here with the truck disabled?”

“Charlie came and got me in your pickup. I dropped him at the ranch and came on here.”

Allie winced at the thought of a ride back in the old rattletrap truck littered with grain and smelling of horse manure. “What happened? It’s all a little fuzzy.”

He narrowed his eyes, and his mouth took on a grim slant. “It’s pretty strange. The lug nuts didn’t break off, which is what I thought at first. But I took a look at the bolts, and they’re perfectly fine. I couldn’t find any of the lugs laying around in the ditch or the road either.”

“A-are you saying someone took the lugs off?”

“I’m suspicious,” he said. “That truck’s only a year old. I rotated the tires a month ago. Everything was fine. The truck was parked in town for hours. I guess someone could have tampered with it.”

All the blood rushed to her feet, and she swayed where she stood. Rick grabbed her arm.“I have to get to Betsy,” she said. “She’s in danger.” “Grady will take care of her.” Though he protested, a worried frown formed between his eyes.

The nurse returned with another gown. “You’re making a mistake,” she said, holding it out for Allie to slip into.

By the time Allie signed the papers and Rick helped her to the truck, she was shaking with fatigue, and her head felt like it was as big as the boulder they’d hit. It was hard to think past the pain, and she had to keep swallowing down the bile that burned the back of her throat.

She could do this. Betsy had to be protected.

“You can put your head on my lap,” Rick said, shooting her a concerned glance.

“Maybe I will.” She put on the lap belt, then loosened it enough to crumple onto the seat, her head on the hard muscles of his leg. “Not exactly the softest pillow I’ve ever laid on,” she said, turning her head and smiling up at him.

“Sorry.” He drove with one hand on the wheel, and his right hand came down to settle on her shoulder as if to keep her safe.

Even Jon wasn’t this protective. Allie had never felt so treasured and cared for. Why did he do it? He couldn’t love her, not yet. She didn’t quite get it, and though she wanted to ask, the words hid in the back of her throat.

He must have sensed her emotion, because he looked down with his eyebrows winging up. “Something wrong?”

“How can you act this way toward me?” She blurted the words out before she could lose her nerve.

“What way?”

“So sweet—and loving. You don’t love me.” She watched his face to see if it would give away his emotions. Rick was so hard for her to read. She’d never met anyone like him.

He was silent for so long, she began to think he wasn’t going to answer her. Warmth radiated down through his arm and fingers and transferred to her shoulder.

“I haven’t had a lot of unconditional love in my life,” he said. “Only from God. Grady said something from the pulpit once I’ve never forgotten. He said, ‘Love isn’t an emotion, it’s an action.’ I figure if I act with love toward you, I might start feeling it.”

Allie had never heard such a thing before. “Not an emotion? What did he mean?”

Rick shrugged. “You should have him tell you. He’s better at explaining stuff like that. But I took it to mean that the giddy feelings can come and go. I think he called that infatuation. Real love means I go to work when I’d rather stay home in bed. Real love puts up with burned dinner and no clean underwear.” He grinned when she grimaced. “He said love is an action verb. So I decided if we were going to stay married, I’d work out the love and wait for the giddy emotion.”

He was basically saying she didn’t give him the butterflies she felt even now flying around her insides, and she wasn’t sure whether to be offended or to hug him. The thought of steadfast care and support felt like a safety net she’d never had. Her mother had always preferred Allie’s sister, who was as good a barrel racer as she’d ever seen. Though she was loved, Allie always felt she came up lacking.

Rick didn’t seem to be comparing her against anyone, and she’d been comparing him to Jon constantly. Jon was two years in his grave, and she was still alive. Could it be all right to accept what Rick offered? For the first time, she didn’t shudder at the thought of letting down Jon’s memory.

“So you’re not attracted to me?” She couldn’t help but remember the kiss they’d shared in the meadow, a kiss that nearly ignited a prairie fire.

“I didn’t say that.” His grin widened. “I’m a red-blooded male, you know. And you’re a beautiful woman. But real love isn’t about chemistry. Or at least not only about chemistry. If it were, when I’ve got a pot belly and you’ve got a turkey neck, we’ll want to go look for someone younger. I want more than that from a marriage.”

So did she.

And she was only beginning to realize how much.

9781401690267_I_0016_001.jpg

Rick sat in the office with his feet on the desk late into the night. He hadn’t wanted to tell Allie how worried he was about the accident two days ago. It was all he could handle to keep the Siderses from hauling off Betsy, and to get Allie to stay in bed. At least the painmeds had kept her worry at bay.

But not his.

Someone had made a deliberate attempt to harm them and almost succeeded. The doctor told him that if she’d hit her head just a little harder, she would have fractured her skull. He couldn’t wait for Brendan or the sheriff to figure out who was behind this. First thing tomorrow he’d go see the border patrol. Maybe they had some new information.

He heard the soft movement of bare feet on the wood floor. Removing his feet from the desk, he stepped to the door and peered through the dark house. A shadowy movement came on the stairs, and he saw Latoya tiptoeing to the landing.

She was fully dressed in jeans and carried her shoes in one hand. She reeked of perfume, some flowery scent that made his eyes water when he got closer.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

She jumped, and her shoes clattered on the floor. Retrieving them, she turned and shook her finger at him. “You scared me out of an inch of nail growth.”

“I repeat, what are you doing? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were sneaking out to meet someone.”

She tossed her head, and her black cornrows bobbed. “What if I am? Whatcha going to do about it, boss man? Turn me in?”

Rick stepped closer to her. “Nothing,” he said. “You’re nearly an adult, Latoya. If you’re going to make something of your life, you’re the only one who can choose your actions. I could make you march back upstairs, but that would just make you resentful. Instead, I want you to think before you walk out that door. The direction of your life hinges on the choices you make.”

Her dark eyes never left his face, and he saw the defiance slip out of her tense shoulders and tightly clenched fists.

“You don’t know what it’s like,” she said, plopping down on the bottom step. “To want to be someone, to have someone love you.”

“Sex isn’t love, girl. I think you know that by now. And I do know what it’s like.” He moved to join her. “Move over.” She scooted over, and he sat down beside her. “I was where you are once. Only instead of sex, my drug of choice was whiskey. It cost me my best friend and my self-respect. You’re young enough to stop that downward spiral. You’ve got a lot on the ball—you’re smart, pretty, enthusiastic. If you want to make people respect you, you’ve got to respect yourself first.” “Easy for you to say,” she said. “My mama brings home her boyfriends. They . . . do things to me.”

“You don’t live there now. Take back your life, Latoya. Don’t let the nightmares of the past destroy it.”

She lowered her head, and he caught the glint of a tear on her cheek. Anything he said now would be too much. All he could do is let her think it through.

“You got a way with words,” she said grudgingly. “Do you really think I’m smart?”

“I do. And you’ve got a way with the animals. That shows a lot of heart.”

She fell silent again for a few long moments, then she slowly rose with her shoes in hand and turned to go back up the stairs. “Mornin’ will be here too soon. I’m going back to bed.”

“Good girl. I’m proud of you.”

“Whatever. It’s just one day.”

“It only takes one day at a time. Believe me, I know.” He watched her sashay back upstairs. It was so easy to dispense advice and so hard to live by it.

When was he going to let go of his past? All it took was a choice like Latoya had made tonight. God had forgiven him—he had no doubt about that. It was time he forgave himself.

He bowed his head and vowed to make a choice this one day to let go of the guilt.