did. Pretending she had a metal rod in place of her spine, she got to her feet. No bending, no moving fast, no twisting. Her head beat a fast rhythm of pain along with the throbbing in her back. “Thanks.”
Jack whined and nudged the side of her leg. She absently gave his ears a scratch, and that seemed to pacify him.
Sirens filled the air around them. She took a deep breath and a step forward. It hurt, but at least it didn’t feel like she had a knife wedged in her back anymore.
“You need to get to a doctor and have that checked out.”
She didn’t bother telling him she was a doctor. He knew that. Not a back doctor, true, but... “I know what’s wrong and I know how to fix it. Rest and physical therapy.” She grimaced. “Neither of which I like very much.”
“I’m thinking a pain pill wouldn’t hurt.”
She tightened her jaw. “I don’t do drugs—in spite of what everyone in Wrangler’s Corner thinks.”
He lifted an eyebrow and studied her. “I wasn’t suggesting you did. I saw Clay earlier and he told me you had a serious back injury.”
“I do. Did. It’s in the healing process. Or it was before just now.” She’d done the narcotics in the beginning, just to get through the day, but fearing addiction, she’d weaned herself off, and before the attack, had been at the point where she could just take something over the counter when she needed it. Like when she overdid it. Although she had to admit, the pain now was bad enough to have her thinking twice about finding her prescription bottle.
Nathan hovered at her side. “I’m glad you showed up when you did,” she said to him.
“I’m glad I did, too.”
She tilted her head. “Why do you need a job? I thought you were some big bad DEA agent in Nashville.”
His eyes shuttered and his jaw tightened. “I am. Was. Am. Not the big and bad part. Just the agent part.”
“So which is it? Am or was?”
“Was. I quit.” He pursed his lips and ran a hand through his hair. “Actually, it’s more like an extended leave of absence, but I have an open invitation to return anytime.” He sighed. “I got shot and decided to come home to recover. I have more time off than I need, I’m just not ready to—” He stopped and shook his head. “I’m healing nicely and boredom has set in.” He gave a small shrug. “I heard you needed help, I’ve got some medical bills to pay, so I’m here to apply.”
He’d been shot? How had she missed hearing about that one? No doubt because she lived like a hermit most of the time. She looked him over carefully. “You don’t look hurt.”
“It wasn’t a bad wound, and like I said, I’m healing. Actually, the shoulder is pretty much healed. I’ve done the physical therapy and I’m cleared to go back to work. I just don’t want to yet.” His eyes darkened and he glanced away. “Besides, hurt comes in many different forms,” he murmured.
Two Wrangler’s Corner police vehicles pulled to a stop in her drive, and she walked toward them, keeping her pace even, careful with each step. She recognized Trent Haywood and Parker Little. A third car pulled in behind them. Clay.
Clay stepped out of the third car and Becca kept her gaze on the man. Hurt comes in many different forms. Well, that was true enough.
Sheriff Clay Starke was her cousin. The one she’d chased around his parents’ ranch when they were kids, and the one who’d beat up the bully for her when she was in second grade. He was also the one who’d questioned her about a man who’d died of an overdose with her number in his cell phone and who’d gotten a warrant to search her place. Thankfully, as she’d expected, he’d come up empty-handed.
But still.
The anger and hurt were fresh and she didn’t know when she’d get over it. She glanced back at Nathan. “You’re hired.”
He blinked. “That was easy.”
“I need help and you want to work. I know you and I trust you. I was going to have to put an ad in the paper and start interviewing.” She grimaced. “I want to do that about as much as I want another fall. I’d be a fool to turn you down.”
* * *
I know you and I trust you.
Nathan stared at the bottom of the bunk above him, his mind spinning, guilt eating at him. Becca thought she knew him. She thought she could trust him. Little did she know she’d just let a spy into her midst. She knew he worked for the DEA and yet hadn’t thought twice about letting him onto her property or hiring him. That spoke volumes to him.
He grunted and rolled to his side, winced at the pressure on his shoulder and decided he was most comfortable on his back. God, I think I’ve managed to get myself into a mess. Please don’t let me do anything that’s going to hurt Becca. I wouldn’t hurt her for the world, but Clay’s asked me to do this. And while I don’t think Becca’s guilty, if Clay says the drugs are coming from this area, then I need to find out. And find out if Becca’s gotten mixed up in the middle and doesn’t know it. He sighed. “Although, I’m guessing she might know it after today,” he muttered aloud. It had been a bold move for the masked man to attack her in the barn in the middle of the day. That very fact scared him. For her.
Which made him wonder if the failure to get what he wanted would result in the attacker’s return.
Nathan slapped the pillow in frustration. Sleep wasn’t going to happen. His nerves still jumped from his showdown with the man in the barn, his worry over Becca, and his desire to tell her exactly what he was doing sleeping in her bunkhouse and working at her barn.
He swung his feet to the floor and grabbed his jeans from the foot of the bed. So he’d tell her. Right now. Nathan glanced at the clock and winced. It was shortly before midnight. He’d have to wait until morning. She’d had a long day and needed her sleep. “And so do you, Williams,” he muttered. “Lights out.”
Nathan wasn’t sure how long he laid there, thinking, running different versions of a confession to Becca about his presence through his mind, but when the floorboard creaked, his eyes popped open. He lay still, barely breathing, not moving.
Another soft creak, the thud of a footfall. Someone was in the bunkhouse. But who? And why? It wouldn’t be Becca, she would have texted or called to let him know she was coming down.
Had her attacker returned after all?
Nathan sat up and reached for his gun.
Becca checked the clock once more and sighed. Midnight. She couldn’t get her nerves to calm down long enough to let sleep take over, which was why she now sat in the dark kitchen sipping hot decaf tea and looking out over her property. Jack lay on the floor at her feet, his presence a comfort.
The half-moon cast a faint glow and shadows danced in the distance. But at least the pain in her back had eased and she was able to move without the constant ache. Apparently, her attacker hadn’t done as much
