Lonestar Sanctuary (25 page)

"My wife is hurt," Rick said through his shattered window. He was
trying not to panic and wasn't doing a very good job of it.

"I'm a physician's assistant. Let me take a look at her." The man
went around to the other side of the truck and tugged on the door.
"It's stuck. I'll have to come in from your side." The man moved back
to Rick's door and opened it with Rick's help.

Rick unfastened Betsy's seat belt and pulled her out with him. The
other driver crawled inside the truck, and Rick began to pray.

EYERY 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.

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 pain
meds 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."