Becca pulled into the parking lot of the physical therapy office and breathed a sigh of relief that she’d made the ten-minute drive into town with no incidents.
Maybe she was right. Maybe she was safe as long as she was off the ranch. The thought depressed her. Becca climbed out of her truck and walked toward the door of the office. It was getting late and her stomach was rumbling. She’d pick up something at the diner to take back for dinner.
“You stay out of my family’s business, you hear me?”
Becca spun, wincing at the pull on her back muscles. Her heart thudded against her ribs when she spotted Jeff MacDougal leaning against the waist-high fence just outside the general store.
“I’m not in your family business. Brody Mac loves horses and ranch work. I simply let him help out.” She paused. “And he’s good at the work. He’s a real help for me.”
“Brody Mac don’t have no business doing nothing for nobody. When he shows up, you tell him to get lost and get on home, you hear?”
“I hear. But I won’t do it. He’s a wonderful young man with a gentle heart. Why can’t you see that? What do you have against him working and earning some money?”
He faltered for a moment. “He’s really doing that good?”
“Yes. He really is.”
Had she finally reached some soft spot in his anger-encrusted heart? For a moment, hope sprouted.
Then he scowled and straightened from his relaxed pose against the fence and pointed a finger at her. “Never mind that. If he wants to work, I’ll be the one to put him to work, not some uppity debutante who don’t know a mule from a donkey.” He took a step toward her and she lifted her chin to stare him in the eyes. Backing down wasn’t an option. And what right did he have to judge her? She probably knew her way around a ranch better than he did.
“As long as Brody Mac wants to help me out, he’s got a place at my ranch. He’s twenty-one years old and that makes him legal in the eyes of the law.”
He laughed, spittle flying from around the wad of chew in his lower lip. “Lady, I don’t care what the law says. Brody’s my boy. I’m his law. And if I say you leave him be, you do so.”
“Or what, Mr. MacDougal? You’ll come on my property and attack me? Sneak around at night and try to scare me?”
He frowned. Then spat at her feet. “Now that ain’t a bad idea.” He turned on his heel and walked off.
“And I do so know the difference between a mule and a donkey!” She ignored the debutante dig. She had been a debutante, and while she didn’t flaunt it, she wasn’t ashamed of it, either. It was just a part of her growing-up years.
Becca’s hands started to ache and she realized she’d curled her fingers into hard fists. She blew out a breath and looked up to see Clay watching her. Tears arrived out of nowhere and she sniffed, refusing to let them fall. He walked toward her and she lifted her chin.
“I came in on the tail end of that. You okay?”
“Just fine.”
“Do I need to go after him?”
“Only if you can arrest him for being a jerk and a lousy father.”
He grimaced.
“That’s what I thought.” But he could raid her home and search for drugs she didn’t have.
“Becca—”
“I’m fine, Clay. Don’t let me keep you.” She opened the door and stepped inside.
“Sabrina misses you.”
She sighed and lowered her chin to her chest for a moment. “I miss her, too—and your kids,” she said without looking back. Then she let the door shut behind her, but she didn’t move. Immediate guilt slammed her. She didn’t have to be rude to him.
Becca opened the door to apologize, but he was already walking back toward his office. He was within shouting distance, but she was going to be late if she didn’t get back inside. With a frustrated sigh, she ran a hand over her messy ponytail.
Well, she could call him then. That wouldn’t take too long. It wasn’t right to be mean to the man when he was only doing his job. She snagged her phone from her back pocket, proud of herself for remembering to bring it. At the moment she began to dial, Bart Gold stopped him and began to talk. Becca grimaced. That conversation would go on for a while. And even though Clay might appreciate the interruption, she decided the apology would have to wait.
Becca stepped back inside and looked around the large open room, taking in the busy, yet laid-back, atmosphere. She knew the exercises to do, and knew she could do them at home. She just couldn’t give herself the massage she needed to loosen up the muscles. And truly, she really didn’t mind coming into the office.
The trip into town was just as therapeutic for her mind as it was her body. It was the only time during her week that her muscles actually relaxed.
Christmas music filtered through the ceiling speakers, softly, barely there, but loud enough to enjoy.
Christmas.
She hadn’t forgotten it was coming, but she sure hadn’t done a thing at the barn to get ready for it. Making a mental note to ask Nathan to pull the Christmas decorations out of the attic tomorrow morning, Becca moved into the therapist’s sight line.
Julie, the thirty-something woman, smiled and waved her over. “Hi, Becca. Are you ready to get started?”
“Sure.”
But while she went through the motions of her appointment, MacDougal’s threatening words and laser-like glare returned to the forefront of her mind. Was he the one causing all of her problems? And if so, how did she go about proving it? And was the fact that she allowed Brody Mac to help her out on the ranch really that much of an issue with him?
Apparently.
So what was the right thing to do? Forbid Brody Mac from coming to the ranch?
She shuddered at the idea. No, she couldn’t hurt him like that. Then again, MacDougal was his father, and Becca wondered if she should respect that in spite of the fact that MacDougal did nothing to inspire that emotion in her—or anyone else he came into contact with.
God? What do I do?
* * *
Nathan sat back with a thump. For the past thirty minutes he’d scanned Becca’s laptop—her, much to his disgruntled surprise, nonpassword-protected laptop—and came up with nothing but financial records that showed she was barely making it with a full stable.
If clients kept cancelling and pulling their horses, she’d soon be forced to sell. Or fall into foreclosure. Her private emails were few and far between, only the occasional communication with her cousins, Sabrina, Amber and Zoe. Usually initiated by the Starke women checking on her by asking if she needed anything. Her answer was always the same. “I’m fine, thanks for checking.”
He’d have to talk to her about that. Now he needed to know if she had a landline. With all the trouble she was having, installing an alarm system might be the best way to go. Certain ones would be too expensive for her, but sometimes companies ran specials for complete installation and all equipment with no money down. But he wasn’t sure she’d want another monthly payment. Nathan saw a fax machine, but it wasn’t hooked up.
“What are you doing in here, Mr. Williams?”
Nathan jerked and looked up to see Brody Mac in the doorway. He’d been so engrossed in his snooping, he’d failed to hear the man come in. Nathan frowned. How had he missed those heavy footsteps? He shook his head. He’d been away from the action for too long. “Hi, Brody Mac. I didn’t hear you come in.”
Brody Mac shifted from one foot to the other, his hands clasped in front of him. “This is Becca’s office. You shouldn’t be in here.”
Nathan stood. “It’s okay. I’m just trying to help her out.”
The young man shifted again then shrugged. “Okay. As long as you’re helping her. Becca’s a good woman. She’s nice to me.”
“I agree. She’s a very good woman. I like her a lot.”
Brody Mac grinned. “Okay, then.” He stepped into the room. “Can I...” He paused and cleared his throat. “I mean, may I help you help Becca?”
“Sure, you can help. Do you know if Becca has a landline?”
“A what?”
“A phone that works when it’s plugged into the wall. Not a cell phone, but...” How else could he put it?
“Oh, you mean like a cordless phone? Mr. Jacobs has one in his classroom to call for help if he needs it.”
“Yes, like that.” Cordless. Duh.
“No, she doesn’t have one. She only has her cell phone. She said the cordless phone was too expensive.”
“Okay. That was a big help. Thanks, Brody Mac.” He clapped his hands together and rubbed them. “One other question.”
“Sure.”
“Do you know where Becca keeps her Christmas decorations?”
“They’re in the attic. I helped her a lot last year, but when I asked her about it this year, she said she would get to it later.” He shrugged. “I guess it’s not later enough yet.”
“Will you show me?”
“I sure can.” Brody Mac led him down the hall and stopped at the end of it. “Up there.”
“You want to do a little decorating?”
The man grinned, childish delight in his kind eyes. “Sure.”
For the next thirty minutes, he and Brody Mac unloaded the decorations and started putting them out. Fortunately, Brody Mac was familiar with how Becca decorated and was able to quickly place things where they went.
In the attic, Nathan found an artificial tree with the lights still on it. He got it down and set it in front of the bay window in the living area. Becca would see it when she drove up.
He glanced at his watch. Time to get moving. “Hey, Brody Mac, you about done?”
“Yes.” He hung the last ornament on the tree and plugged in the extension cord. The tree burst into multicolored twinkles and Brody Mac clapped his hands. “It’s awesome.”
Nathan agreed. “Think Becca will like it?”
“I think she’ll love it.”
He patted the young man on his arm. “Thanks for your help, I appreciate it. You’re a good guy, Brody Mac.”
Brody Mac enveloped Nathan in a bear hug and lifted him off his feet. Nathan laughed when he was finally on the wood floor again and gave the man a gentle push toward the door. “I think we’re all done in here. Why don’t we go outside and see what needs to be done for the lessons? The riders are going to be here soon.”
“Okeydoke.”
Brody Mac headed out the door and Nathan let out a low breath. He’d have to be a bit more careful in his searches. But the good thing was he hadn’t found anything that said Becca was involved in drugs. Of course, he’d just had time to go through her financials on her laptop. He’d have to find another time to search her files and desk.
And at least he’d gotten part of her house decorated for her. He hoped it would be a good surprise and she wouldn’t be disappointed that she hadn’t had a hand in it. Guess he’d find out when she got back.
Until then, he’d do what he could to make sure she had to do as little as possible upon her return. He stepped outside and shivered. The temperature was dropping and he was grateful for his heavy coat and gloves.
Nathan found Brody Mac in the barn. The man looked up when he stepped inside. “I’m just getting the horses ready for the lesson.” He pointed to a sheet of paper hanging on the wall. “See that list? That’s how I know what horses she’s using. She put that up there for me, you know.”
“That’s great. Want some help?”
“Sure thing, Mr. Williams.”
“Why don’t you just call me Nathan?”
“Okay. And you can call me Brody Mac.”
Nathan laughed. He liked Brody Mac and admired Becca for taking him under her wing. And he saw why Becca was so fierce in her defense of the guy. Not only was he a gentle soul, he worked hard. Even better, he also knew his way around a barn and horses as well as Nathan did.
They worked together and Nathan sobered as he considered his deception. Becca would be back soon, and he thought seriously about telling her everything, but would she let him stay if she knew how he came to be there? And if she told him to go while the person who wanted to harm her was still out there, there wouldn’t be any way he could keep her safe.
He placed the last saddle on the back of a gentle mare, and by the time he had the cinch tightened and the stirrups raised for shorter legs, he’d made up his mind.
He’d keep his mouth shut for now and pray that when the time came for him to lay it all out there for Becca, she’d find it in her heart to forgive him.
* * *
Becca finished her therapy and sat on the bench for the next five minutes while she did her best to find the energy to move. The twenty-minute massage that went along with the strengthening exercises had nearly put her to sleep. She felt more wiped out now than when she put in a full morning’s work at the barn. But her back felt much better.
Finally, she gathered her things, slipped on her jacket and headed for her truck.
“Becca?”
She sighed and turned. “What now, Clay?”
Having him lurking, waiting on her to come out of the physical therapist’s office, sent all thoughts of apologizing out the window.
“Are you ever going to forgive me?”
Becca turned. “Probably. One day.” Apologize. She swallowed. “But I’m sorry I was rude to you earlier.” There.
“Thanks. I get that you’re mad at me. And, the truth is, I don’t really believe you’re involved in anything like drugs, but I have to follow where the evidence takes me—and unfortunately it took me to your ranch. I hope you understand that.”
She did, but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow. “Clay, I don’t know why there would be a record of calls on Donny’s phone from me. It doesn’t make any more sense to me now than it did when you questioned me about it.” She paused. “But it’s probably because I’m always leaving my phone lying around somewhere.” Not so much since the attack, though. “Sometimes I leave it in the barn in spite of the fact that I should have it on me at all times when I’m out riding.” But when she was giving lessons, she didn’t want to be distracted and so had gotten in the habit of just leaving the device in the barn while teaching. “Anyone could walk in and use it.”
“But why? Most people have their own cell phones. They don’t need to use someone else’s.” He lifted his hat from his hand to rake fingers through his already-mussed hair. He replaced his hat. “And besides, do you know how unlikely that whole idea is? One call, yeah, maybe. I’d be willing to buy that. But three?”
Becca’s frown deepened. It did sound bad when he put it like that. She sighed. “Again, I don’t know. All I know is I’m losing business because of your investigation and I don’t know how to prove I’m not—”
Her voice cracked and she snapped her lips shut.
“Aw, Becca. I’m sorry. I really am.”
Tears gathered and she swiped them away. It seemed all she did lately was cry. “I am too, Clay.”
He sighed and walked over to hug her and she let him. Maybe forgiving him wasn’t so far off.
“Have you talked to your parents lately?” he asked.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because even if I bothered to call, they wouldn’t pick up. And if I left a message, they’d just erase it. Do you know how much that hurts?”
“Wow. It’s that bad?”
She stepped back from him and lasered him with all of the frustration and anger that had built since her fall. “It’s that bad.”
He winced. “I’m sorry. Really.”
She wilted, all the fight draining from her. “Yeah. So am I.” Becca climbed in the truck. “I’ve got to go. I’ve got lessons to give this afternoon.” At least she hoped she did. Truly, she was worried no one would show up.
“Come to Mom and Dad’s for dinner on Sunday. Bring Nathan.”
“We’ll see. I’ll talk to you later.”
Becca decided she was too sapped to stop at the diner and knew she had peanut butter and jelly and chips at home. It wouldn’t be the best meal she’d ever fixed, but it would do for tonight.
She dropped her cell phone into the cupholder for easy reach should she need it and then backed out of the parking spot and turned the truck toward home. Life was simply not fair these days, but she knew fair wasn’t guaranteed. She was just going to have to take each day one hour at a time and pray things turned around for the better. Please God, let things get better. Some days she wasn’t sure her prayers even reached heaven, but taking God at his word was one thing she was working on, and He’d promised to “never leave her nor forsake her.” So she kept praying.
Becca braked to turn onto the main road that would lead her out of town and to the ranch. She made the turn and looked into the rearview mirror. An older-model sedan followed her. She tensed. Her next glance caught the car turning off onto one of the side roads. Becca let out the breath she’d been holding.
“Okay, don’t start getting paranoid.”
But was it paranoia when someone had attacked her in the barn? Was it paranoia that things kept going wrong on the ranch?
Maybe. But she’d rather be paranoid and overly sensitive than oblivious and dead.
The drive up the mountain went smooth until she noticed another vehicle behind her. Again, her muscles tightened and her fingers flexed on the wheel. The white truck drew closer. Becca pressed the gas pedal but then let off. She’d let the truck go around her if he was in that much of a hurry. She slowed. He closed in fast. Too late, she realized he wasn’t going to pass. Instead, he rammed the back of her truck.
Becca cried out and spun the wheel to keep the vehicle on the road. Another slam sent her into a spin. She screamed and stomped on the brakes. Her truck slowed, but the pedal felt squishy and then went to the floor.
In horror, she realized she was headed straight for the side of the mountain. Becca spun the wheel one more time and managed to keep from going over but it put her face-to-face with the person trying to kill her.
He gunned the engine of his vehicle and Becca slammed hers into reverse then hit the gas. She lurched backward and the attacker flew past her.
Becca hit the brakes and this time the pedal didn’t even pause as it slammed against the floor once again.
She continued to move backward and dropped over the edge of the mountain road.