Cowboy Defender Read online

  What about Jenny and Henry? If Miranda was headed for the hospital, who would be at the house when the two kids came home from school?

  As much as he wanted to rush directly to the hospital to see what was going on, he headed for Miranda’s home. If the kids came home to an empty house they would probably be scared and that was the last thing he wanted for them.

  He drove as fast as he legally could and when he pulled up in her driveway the two children were seated on the front porch. Their worried frowns changed into smiles as they saw him.

  “Mr. Clay, Mommy isn’t here and she’s always here after school,” Jenny said. Despite the tentative smile that curved her little lips, her voice held a tremor of worry.

  “Do you know where she is?” Henry asked.

  “She got held up for a little while and she sent me over here to take you to your grandmother’s for a couple of hours,” he replied.

  He prayed that Katherine was home and available. As much as he didn’t want to worry the children, he was desperate to get to the hospital and find out if Miranda had been seriously hurt.

  Oh, God, please don’t let her be hurt badly, he mentally prayed as he loaded the kids into his truck and headed the few blocks to Katherine’s house.

  As he drove, the kids told him all about their days at school. He only half-listened to them while thoughts of Miranda were foremost in his mind.

  When they reached Katherine’s home he told the kids to wait in the truck until he called for them and went up and knocked on the door of the neat ranch house where Miranda’s mother lived alone.

  Katherine answered the door. “Clay,” she said in surprise.

  “Katherine, I hate to break this to you so abruptly, but Miranda has been involved in a car accident.”

  One of Katherine’s hands leaped up to her lips as if to stop an outcry. “I’m on my way to the hospital now, but somebody needs to watch the kids,” he continued before she could ask any questions...questions to which he had no answers.

  “Of course,” she finally managed to gasp out. “I’ll keep them as long as necessary. Do you know anything more? Do you know how badly she is hurt?”

  “I don’t know anything other than she was taken to the hospital. The faster I get there, the better.”

  “Send the children in,” she replied, her voice filled with worry.

  Clay turned back to the truck and signaled for Jenny and Henry to get out. He looked back at Katherine. “I haven’t mentioned any of this to the children. And I promise I’ll call you when I know something further.”

  “Please call as soon as possible,” she said. As she greeted the two kids, Clay turned and ran for his truck. He had no idea how long it had been since Miranda’s accident, but each and every minute that passed terrified him.

  What was happening with her? He needed to see her. He needed somebody to tell him that she was just fine...maybe a little bumped and bruised, but nothing more serious than that.

  Within minutes he screeched into the Bitterroot Hospital parking lot, parked the truck and raced for the emergency room door. When he shot through the waiting room door he saw Dillon was seated on one of the plastic chairs.

  “How is she?” he asked and sank down in the chair next to Dillon’s. His heart beat so quickly, so loudly, for a moment he feared he wouldn’t even be able to hear the lawman.

  “I don’t know yet. I’m waiting for somebody to give me an update. She was unconscious when she was brought in.”

  “Unconscious?” Clay stared at Dillon as if the man had suddenly stopped speaking English. “Wa...was she breathing?”

  “Yeah, none of her vital signs seemed to worry anyone, but she definitely got banged up.” Dillon frowned.

  “But you don’t know how banged up?” Clay asked and Dillon shook his head.

  “So...what happened? I heard she hit a delivery truck.” Clay’s heart still beat an unnatural, quickened rhythm.

  “I talked to a few people who saw it happen. There was a truck attempting to make a left-hand turn at the traffic light on Main and the driver had just pulled into the intersection.” Dillon’s frown deepened. “According to the witnesses and the truck driver, Miranda didn’t even attempt to brake or stop for the red light. She just plowed right into the side of him. And to make matters worse, her airbag didn’t deploy.”

  For several long moments Clay had no words. All he had was a terrifying fear for her condition and questions about the accident. “Did you tow her car?” he finally asked.

  Dillon nodded. “I had it towed to the police garage. I want Elliot to go over it with a fine-tooth comb.”

  “Good, because you know she would never drive into the side of a truck on purpose.” If something besides the air bag had malfunctioned, Elliot Truman would find it. He worked as a mechanic at the local car lot, but he also helped out the police department when he was needed. When it came to vehicles, nobody knew more than Elliot.

  Still, Clay was far less interested in the car than he was in Miranda’s condition. Was she still unconscious? What did that mean? He stood and began to pace. He was unable to sit still while they waited for somebody to tell them about her condition. What was taking so long? Why didn’t someone come out and talk to them?

  His cell phone rang. It was Katherine. “I couldn’t stand it any longer. Do you have any news?”

  “I’m at the emergency room with Dillon now. We’re waiting for somebody to let us know how she is. How are the kids?”

  “A bit confused by the change in their routine, but they’re okay. Meanwhile I’m a nervous wreck. My girl has to be okay, she just has to be,” Katherine said fervently.

  “Trust me, I feel the same way,” he replied. “I promise I’ll call you as soon as I know something.”

  He’d just hung up from Katherine when Dr. Wendall Johnson entered the waiting room. “How is she?” Clay asked with his heart pounding so hard he heard its beat in his head.

  “She’s awake. We x-rayed her from head to toe and thankfully nothing is broken, but she banged up her knees and somehow twisted her ankle pretty badly. My main concern right now is she hit her forehead pretty hard on the steering wheel and now has a concussion. Thankfully the CAT scan showed no bleeding in the brain or skull fracture. She keeps asking about her children.”

  “Can I see her?” A rivulet of relief washed through him. At least none of her injuries were life-threatening.

  “I’d like to ask her some questions,” Dillon added.

  “I’m not sure how helpful she’ll be right now. She’s confused and I don’t want you stressing her,” Dr. Johnson replied.

  “I’ll be gentle with her,” Dillon said.

  “We just moved her from the emergency room to room 105. I want to keep her for the night for observation.”

  As Dillon headed in the direction of the room, Clay made a quick call back to Katherine to update her, then he hurried down the hallway, needing to see Miranda sooner rather than later.

  The hospital bed seemed to swallow her whole. She looked so small and pale, the only color on her face a dark purple bruise that stretched across her forehead. She wore a blue flowered hospital gown that made her big, bewildered eyes appear even more blue.

  “Where are my children?” she asked as the two men entered the room. They were joined by Dr. Johnson. “Please, somebody tell me where they are.”

  “They are safe and sound with your mother,” Clay replied softly. She sighed and seemed to relax into the mattress as if his words were an enormous relief.

  “Miranda, can you tell me what happened?” Dillon asked.

  She frowned and then raised a hand to her forehead as if the expression had hurt her. Clay wanted nothing more than to sit next to her and take her hand in his. But right now he didn’t want to distract her from Dillon’s questions. It was important to find out what had caused the accide
nt.

  “I was in a car accident,” she replied. “Where are my children?” she repeated.

  “They’re with your mother,” Clay repeated. “You don’t need to worry about them right now.”

  “Do you remember the car accident?” Dillon asked.

  She stared at him blankly. “No...no, Dr. Johnson told me I was in an accident.” A look of panic swept over her features. “Am I supposed to remember something? Why can’t I remember? Did I hurt somebody? Oh, God...is somebody hurt?”

  “No, nobody else was hurt in the accident,” Dillon hurriedly assured her. “And don’t worry about it if you can’t remember right now, Miranda. Maybe we can have another talk tomorrow after you rest,” Dillon added. “Dr. Johnson, walk me out?”

  The minute the two men left the room Miranda asked about her children once again. Clay assumed the repeat of the question had to do with her concussion. He pulled up a chair next to the side of the bed, picked up her hand and cradled it in his own.

  “Everything is going to be all right, Miranda,” he said softly. “All you have to worry about right now is resting.”

  “I feel so confused. My head is aching and I feel a little bit nauseous.” She moved restlessly against the sheets. “I need to be home. I need to take care of the kids.”

  He tightened his hands around hers. “You need to stay right here and not worry about anything.”

  “Clay, I’m afraid.” Her eyes beseeched his. “Why am I so afraid?”

  “You don’t have to be afraid. I’m right here with you and I’m not going anywhere.”

  “You have a job to go to,” she protested weakly.

  “Right now my only job is to be here with you.”

  She held his gaze for a long moment and then drifted off to sleep. While she slept, Clay stepped out into the hallway to make a couple of phone calls. He first called Katherine to see if the kids would be okay with her overnight and then he called Rudy Bailor, the principal at the high school.

  He told Rudy what had happened and that Miranda would possibly need a substitute teacher until the end of the school year. Rudy said he’d take care of it and sent his best wishes to Miranda.

  His final phone call was to his boss, Cassie. “Cassie, I’d like to take some vacation time starting immediately,” he told her.

  “Dillon told me what was going on. Are you planning on helping her out?”

  “Definitely. She’ll probably be released from the hospital tomorrow and she’s going to need some help with the kids.”

  “You know there’s no problem with you taking some time off. The other men will cover for you and I’m glad you’re planning on jumping in and helping her. Katherine isn’t always in good enough physical condition to do much to help out.”

  “Miranda can count on me,” he replied firmly.

  He had no idea what Miranda would think about his decision to move in and take care of things, but a woman with bruised knees, a twisted ankle and a concussion wasn’t going to change his mind.

  He returned to the room where she was still sleeping and sank back into the chair next to her. How had this happened? In no stretch of his imagination did he believe Miranda was a reckless driver. And witnesses had said she hadn’t even slowed down before hitting the truck. Why? Why in God’s name had this happened?

  The deepening purple of the goose egg on her forehead and the paleness of her face constricted his heart. She was going to be in pain for days. If he could, he’d take every ache and pain away from her.

  She probably wasn’t going to be happy with him staying with her, but she certainly couldn’t depend on Hank for anything. She really needed a friend right now, and Clay intended to be the best friend she could ever have.

  He must have fallen asleep in the chair because dusk was seeping in through the window curtains when he jerked awake and saw Dillon step into the room.

  The lawman gestured him outside. “What’s up?” Clay asked when he joined Dillon in the hallway. His stomach clenched tight as he saw the grim expression on Dillon’s face.

  “Elliot spent the last couple of hours checking things out on Miranda’s car. Her brake lines were cut and the airbag was tampered with.”

  Clay stared at him, a growing horror tightening his chest. “So, the accident wasn’t an accident at all. It was a deliberate attempt to hurt Miranda.”

  Dillon nodded and a muscle knotted in his jaw. “It was attempted murder and that’s what the perpetrator will be charged with.”

  Attempted murder. The words thundered in Clay’s head. Who on earth would want to kill Miranda? This all seemed so surreal. It was a freaking nightmare.

  “And this puts the acid attack into a whole new light. I think we can now jump to the easy conclusion that the attack wasn’t random,” Dillon said. “It was specifically directed at Miranda.”

  Two attacks...two times somebody had tried to harm Miranda. Who in the hell was behind this? And worse, what might happen next? Questions combined with fear and whirled around and around in Clay’s head.

  “Can you send somebody to sit guard here at her door so I can go to the ranch and pack a couple of bags? I don’t want her left alone for a minute and I don’t want anyone coming in to visit her since we don’t know who might be a bad guy. When she goes home tomorrow, she’s not going to be going alone. I had planned on staying with her to help out. Now I’ll be staying with her to make sure nobody has another opportunity to hurt her.”

  “I’ll send Officer Ramirez here to sit guard so you can do what you need to do. Meanwhile I’ll be doing everything in my power to get to the bottom of this and see that this perp is behind bars.”

  Within fifteen minutes Officer Juan Ramirez arrived and settled in a chair outside of Miranda’s door. He assured Clay nobody would get into the room.

  Clay left the hospital, and as he drove back to the ranch his head continued to whirl with questions that had no answers. Why was this happening and who was behind it?

  Thank God she had survived the crash. It could have been so much worse. Just thinking about what might have happened sent a chill up his spine. Without brakes and without an airbag, she could have easily been killed.

  In no time he was back at the ranch and in his room, packing a duffel bag full of clothes. Flint and Mac appeared in his doorway. “How’s Miranda?” Flint asked.

  “Banged up and she has a concussion,” Clay replied.

  “What are you doing?” Mac asked.

  “Packing up to move in with Miranda.” He told the two men about the slashed brake lines and that the air bag had been tampered with and hadn’t deployed.

  “Who would want to hurt her?” Mac asked incredulously.

  “That is the twenty-four million dollar question,” Clay replied as he pulled a second, smaller duffel bag out from beneath his bed in which to pack some toiletries.

  “So this means the acid attack was really directed at Miranda?” Mac asked.

  “It would seem so.” Even thinking about it made Clay’s muscles clench with fight-or-flight adrenaline.

  “Man, that’s crazy,” Mac said.

  “Does she know you’re planning on moving in with her?” Flint asked.

  “No. But I have a feeling when she learns about why she had the accident she won’t argue with me about it.” Clay frowned and unlocked his top dresser drawer. He took out his holster and gun and then looked at his two friends. “Somebody has tried to hurt her twice now. If anyone tries it a third time and I’m there, I’ll shoot to kill.”

  * * *

  Miranda blinked against the pain that threatened to splinter her head. She glanced toward the window and was surprised to see morning lighting the horizon.

  What day was it? Had she gone to school yesterday? The day before? How many days and nights had she been here? Were her children all right with her mother?

 
There was a lingering confusion about so many things. She couldn’t remember anything about the accident, and right now there was a fog in her brain that refused to lift.

  She turned her head in the other direction and was surprised to see Clay slumped down in the nearby chair and sound asleep.

  She knew he’d been there throughout the night, although she wasn’t sure why. Had it just been one night or a week? She didn’t know. Still, she’d been grateful that he was there when she’d awakened and had assured her, time and time again, that her children were fine and she had nothing to worry about.

  She stared at him thoughtfully. His hair was tousled and his features at rest were as handsome as when he was awake and animated. Why was he still here? She no longer knew exactly what to think about him. All she knew at the moment was that she was intensely grateful to him for seeing to it that her kids were safe and sound at her mother’s house.

  As sleep continued to ease away, her body began to protest any other kind of movement. Her knees hurt and her right ankle throbbed with an intense pain. Her head ached and her forehead hurt.

  She had no memory of the accident but had been told about it. Right now she felt as if she hadn’t hit the side of a truck but rather had been run over by it.

  She suddenly realized Clay’s bright blue eyes were open. Slowly a smile curved his lips. “Good morning,” he said while straightening up in the chair.

  “I’m not so sure it’s a good morning,” she replied.

  Instantly his smile fell away and instead he looked at her with sympathy. “Are you in pain?”

  “I think the only place that doesn’t hurt on me is my eyeballs,” she said with an attempt at laughter.

  He didn’t laugh in return. His gaze remained soft and sympathetic. “Do you want me to call for a nurse? Maybe they can give you something for your pain.”

  “No, I don’t want to take anything. I just want to know when I can go home. I need to be home and taking care of things there.”

  “Whoa, slow down. There is absolutely nothing you need to take care of right now. You’ll be able to go home when the doctor assures me it’s okay. You won’t be going home a minute before that.”