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The hospital wasn't very big—nothing in Barratt County was very big, except for the Barratt Ranch near the northern boundary of the county—and she had an easy time finding where they had him.
He was arguing with the head of the hospital, Dr. Alvaro. She always had to give that man a second look to make certain he wasn’t Dr. Holden-Deane, the surgeon at Finley Creek General that had saved her life. The two were identical twins, despite the different last names. She’d confirmed it with Dr. Holden-Deane’s wife, Jillian—one of Kevin Beck’s daughters—after the MVA they’d all worked together.
Just to make certain she wasn’t seeing things, or anything like that. Not that she was, but after seeing Zoey Daviess, too...well, it was obvious they were all related. Lucky, to have a family so close.
"I'm here to get you." She looked away from the sheriff and at the doctor. On a closer look, he didn’t look exactly like his brother. He was broader, more muscled—which was a feat in itself—and the hair was a lot longer. There was a scar bisecting one eyebrow. It actually fell beneath his eye about half an inch. He’d come extremely close to losing that eye, no doubt.
He wore a gold-hoop earring in one ear and had a massive dragon tattoo up one arm. He looked too bad to be a doctor. He had a sort of bad-boy pirate appeal that would draw women like flies.
"Sheriff, I'll release you now that you have a ride, I assume?" The guy practically growled it. Bailey kept her surprise hidden. Not many good guys challenged Clay Addy to his face like that. And it was good to see the Clay get challenged now and then. Not many people ever did that.
She certainly hadn't. Before. What had happened with her father had changed that. "I left my car running. We should be going."
"I don't need a ride. I need my truck. I told Veri that." He shot a look at Bailey. She studied him quickly. The cut over his eye stood out. Blood stains covered his shoulders. His dress shirt was ripped over his left shoulder. And he was hurting. She didn’t have to see the expression in his eyes to know that. “Have Jeremy and Jeff stop off at my place and get it.”
"No. You're not driving," the doctor said, looking at Bailey with intent. She nodded quickly. "You argue, and I'll have you admitted for that knock on the head. Deputy Moore, you understand? Who is his next of kin, if needed?"
"I'm not sure. But Sheriff Addy understands how to be reasonable, don't you?" Bailey wasn’t about to give him his way. Clay driving himself anywhere now was stupid. Dangerous. To him and everyone else who hit the roadways in the rain. It just wasn't going to happen. "I'd hate to have to arrest him for reckless endangerment, considering he's my boss. But I'll do it, if I have to."
The sheriff glared at her. "Bailey...I’m fine.”
"I think your deputy is an intelligent woman. You should listen to her." Dr. Alvaro handed her an old-fashioned paper prescription. "Our online system is down, thanks to the storm. But the pharmacy up the road is open for a few more hours. See that he takes two soon, and another two in four hours. It should help with the inflammation. Other than that, he's all yours."
Bailey took it then looked at the sheriff as Dr. Alvaro left the exam room. "My truck's running, Clay. Let’s go.”
"You should be at the precinct, going over those reports from Garrity. Or at home—sleeping.”
"I’m good. I’ll sleep later. It’s you Veri is worried about.”
"Nice to see you care, Moore."
He really was surly. Surlier than usual. No doubt he was hurting. She took a quick look at the bandage over his left eye. Compassion had her softening. "Come on, Clay. Don’t be stubborn. Let someone help you for a change. It doesn’t mean you’re weak. It just means you need help sometimes.”
***
His head was aching and like it or not, he was having trouble thinking. Focusing.
He looked at his chauffeur. Bailey still wore her green deputy's uniform. It fit her a bit looser than it used to—even since her return. The hair had been brushed and pulled into a shiny ponytail, but it was drooping after her long day. With the blue eyes and petite build, she looked like a kid playing dress-up.
He closed his eyes as she walked closer.
"You're not driving tonight."
She had never directly ordered him to do anything—or defied him on anything. He wasn't certain he liked it.
This was Bailey, after all. Sweet, beautiful, wanting to get his approval. The woman in front of him looked irritated, frustrated, and elusive. Standing toe-to-toe with him. He wanted to just stand there and stare at her.
"Fine. You are." She had to drive back to Value, anyway. He might as well catch a ride back.
"Good. Because Veri had a tow truck come get your Tahoe. It's a crime scene, now, remember?" She smiled at him, but it wasn't a Bailey kind of smile. He held out a hand and beckoned him on. “Come on. Let’s get moving.”
Clay followed along behind her, far more docilely than he probably should have.
Hell, it didn't surprise him.
All she had to do was tell him what she wanted him to do, and he'd jump to it. The only thing it would cost her would be a smile.
***
He tried not to watch her. Something about her manner told him she wasn't in much of a mood to talk. They hadn’t said much to each other since he’d carried her to the couch early that morning. At least twenty hours ago.
She should be at home, relaxing. Having a life.
Unlike him.
Clay would not let this job destroy Bailey.
He watched her, though. Out of the corner of his eye.
He wanted to see her smile again.
But at the moment, Clay wanted his head to stop hurting. He should have taken Alvaro up on the offer of a shot of pain killer. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the back of the seat.
When he next opened his eyes, Bailey was shaking him gently. "Come on. It's time to go inside. We're here."
He looked through the window at the house he'd lived in for the last six years, since he'd taken the job as sheriff. It was a good-sized, midcentury house. Big enough for the last sheriff to raise a family of six kids in it. He still hadn't repainted half the bedrooms upstairs. He really saw no need for it. He used the parts of the house he needed and dusted the rest once a month or so. That was just about it. No need to paint over dinosaurs and unicorns just yet.
For the first time, he wondered what Bailey would think of it. Clay wasn’t much of a decorator. His place was comfortable for him; not for a woman like Bailey.
And that was ridiculous. What did it matter what she thought about where he lived? Not a damned thing.
He grunted at her. She just shook her head and mumbled something under her breath that he didn't catch.
Then she was out of the vehicle and rounding the hood. Before he could react, she'd jerked open his door and wrapped one of those small hands that tormented him around his free arm. She pulled lightly. "Come on. The rain's broken a bit. Let's get inside."
"You going to put me to bed?" He’d let her. Just pull her right in the bed with him. But he sure as hell didn’t feel like doing much more than sleeping at that moment. That was ok, though. He’d wrap around her and just hold her until morning.
He’d never wanted anything more in his life.
"Hardly. But I'm going to stay with you. Veri told me to. Consider this my penance for some unnamed sin. "