body reacts to the meds.”
Clay nodded. “She can stay with me.”
Tamara shot him a startled glance. “No, Clay, I couldn’t… I—”
“I could admit you to the hospital for observation if you’d rather.” Dr. O’Neal gave her a teasing grin, but also arched an eyebrow, telling her the threat wasn’t idle.
“No, I—”
“Good. Make sure she takes it easy,” Dr. O’Neal said with a nod to Clay. “And I’d like to check in with you again in a couple days to see how you’re doing.”
Holding his Stetson, Clay fiddled with the brim. “When do you expect Doc Mason back?”
The doctor glanced up from scribbling a note on Tamara’s chart. “Not sure. He didn’t give us a time frame. Just said he needed to get away for a while.”
Clay cocked his head. “Well, good for the Doc. He’s sure earned a vacation. Can’t say I remember the last time he took off longer than an afternoon to fish.”
The nurse bustled in with Tamara’s X-rays and clipped them on the light board.
Dr. O’Neal stepped over to study the images. “Well, I don’t see any fractures. All in all, I’d say you were quite lucky to walk away from a fall like that with no more than bruised ribs and some superficial lacerations. If you take it easy over the next few days, limit your activity and take your muscle relaxants, you should make a full recovery in a couple weeks.”
Tamara thanked the doctor, paid the bill, and soon she and Clay were headed back to the ranch.
Staring at her hands as they drove, she considered Clay’s invitation to recover at the Bar None. He hadn’t so much asked her as declared that was how it would be. Did he really want her there? Or was he motivated by guilt and responsibility because she’d fallen on his property? Either way, sharing the same roof with Clay, even if just for a few days, would be awkward at best.
“Clay, I—” When his dark brown eyes met hers, her argument drowned in their fathomless depths. She fought the mule-kick loss of breath. “I…think I’ll be fine at my place in San Antonio. I appreciate the offer, but—”
His brow lowered. “You have someone in the city who can stay with you?”
“Well, no.”
“You heard the doctor. You need rest and someone to keep tabs on you.”
“I know, but—”
Clay’s cell trilled, cutting her off.
“Hello? Hey, Jericho.” Clay glanced at Tamara. “Yeah, she’s with me. We’re headed home from Doc Mason’s clinic. Why?” When he frowned, Tamara’s pulse kicked up. She didn’t need more bad news.
“Maybe. Let me ask her.” Clay held the phone against his chest. “Feel up to a short side trip by the south field? Jericho is out there with Deputy Rawlings, and they haven’t found the body you saw. They need you to show them where it is.”
The injection she’d gotten for pain at the doctor’s office was already making her drowsy, but she had a duty to her job and to the deceased man’s family. She stroked a hand over her taped ribs. “Sure. I can manage.”
Ten minutes later, she and Clay were standing with Jericho and Deputy Rawlings beside the sinkhole. The sheriff shook his head. “We’ve been down with searchlights. Turns out this hole is an offshoot cave from the old tunnel Clay and I used to play in when we were kids.”
“A tunnel? For what?” Tamara asked.
Clay shrugged. “Don’t know what it used to be, but the tunnel’s been there for decades. When I bought the ranch, I put barbed wire across the entrance of the tunnel so none of my horses would wander in there and get stuck.”
“The point is, ma’am,” Rawlings said, narrowing a look at Tamara that suggested he thought she’d lost her mind. “Sheriff and I have been all up and down the passages of the tunnel, and there’s no body in there.”
All three men turned toward her. She bristled. “I saw the body myself! I touched it, not more than four hours ago!”
She shuddered at the memory.
The sheriff looked skeptical. “Did you hit your head when you went down?”
“There was a body, Jericho!” Nausea swirled in her gut. Did they think she was lying? Or hallucinating?
“I’m sure you were in shock,” Jericho said. “Maybe—”
“No maybes, Jericho.” His shoulders squared and stiff, Clay took a step closer to her side. “If Tamara says there was a body, there was a body.”
Her protest stuck in her throat. She turned to Clay, wide-eyed, her mind reeling, her heart full. They’d been on opposite sides of so many issues in the final months of their marriage, she’d grown used to butting heads with this stubborn man. Having him back up her story, believe her on something as important as this, touched her deeply, warmed her soul.
Suspicion furrowed tiny creases at the corner of Clay’s eyes. “The only real questions here are who moved the body…and why.”
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