by Jennie Marts
Except that she didn’t say hello. She didn’t say anything at all.
“Hello? Tess?” He pressed the phone to his ear, concentrating as he listened for her response. Damn it—he couldn’t hear anything over the sound of that damn dog barking.
Wait a minute.
He pressed the phone closer to his ear. What the hell? It sounded as if the barking was coming through the speaker of the phone.
“Tess,” he practically yelled into the phone, fingers of alarm creeping into his chest. “Can you hear me?” He held the phone away from his ear, then put it back again.
Yep. Same barking.
What in the world was going on? It sounded as if the barking was coming from the trees behind the building. Mason put the truck in gear and pulled around behind the library.
He blinked.
What the hell? he thought again for the umpteenth time.
Tess’s car was parked behind the library. But the car appeared to be empty. Except for the dog. He could see Dewey pawing and scratching at the window as he barked through the crack at the top. But there was no sign of Tess.
What was Tess’s car doing back here?
She wouldn’t leave it in a secluded spot like this. And there was no way she would leave the dog alone in the car.
Had something happened to her? Had she been kidnapped?
Cut it out. This was Creedence. Shit like that didn’t happen here. But something was happening here. Something that felt very wrong.
A shiver of apprehension skittered down Mason’s spine as he killed the engine and climbed from the truck. He grabbed a tire iron from behind the seat and guardedly approached the car.
The dog was in the back seat, his eyes wild as his barking and yapping became more intense the closer Mason drew to the car.
“Whoa there. Take it easy, buddy.” He spoke calmly to the dog, trying to soothe both of their nerves. “It’s okay, Dewey. It’s just me.”
The dog’s head disappeared from view, then popped back up. A bead of sweat broke out across Mason’s back as he cautiously peered into the back seat.
He caught his breath.
Oh shit. The body of a woman lay curled in the back seat.
And not just any woman.
Tess.
Chapter 13
“Tess! Are you okay?” Mason pounded on the window, sending the dog into even more of a frenzy, but the woman in the seat didn’t move.
He considered breaking the window with the tire iron, but he remembered he still had the slim jim he’d borrowed from the sheriff the day before.
Racing to the truck, he threw down the tire iron and grabbed the thin tool, then ran back to Tess’s car. It only took a few seconds, but it felt like hours as he maneuvered the tool into the seal of the window and released the lock. Yanking open the door next to her head, he reeled back at the stench of sweat and vomit.
But he was a rancher—he’d smelled a lot worse—and he leaned into the back seat and cradled her head. “Tess? Darlin’? Can you hear me?”
She let out a groan and raised her hand. Her eyes stayed closed as she pressed her fist to her forehead. “Mason?” she whispered.
“Yeah, it’s me. I’m here. I’ve got you.” He stroked his hand across her damp forehead. Her skin was clammy but cool, so no fever. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”
His eyes searched the back seat for a clue to what was going on. A pink tote bag and her purse were on the floor behind the driver’s seat, the contents of the purse scattered on the carpet. Next to it were two paper cups fashioned into what appeared to be dog dishes.
The other floor well had the evidence of her feeling sick, and it looked like she’d thrown up at least twice.
A thin emergency blanket and the sweatshirt he’d loaned her the day before were covering her, and he could see her cell phone clutched in her other hand.
Was she living in her car? Was she homeless?
He couldn’t wrap his head around the situation or come up with any scenario that made sense.
None of that mattered right now. He needed to figure out what was wrong with her. Did she have food poisoning? A sudden bout of the flu? Had she taken drugs?
The car didn’t smell like booze, so he ruled out that she was drunk. Plus, it hadn’t been that long since they’d been together. Certainly not long enough for her to go on the kind of bender that would cause her to black out.
She curled tighter into a ball, her voice barely audible as she mumbled. “Migraine.”
He let out a sigh of relief. He could deal with a migraine. His mom got them occasionally, so he was familiar with the symptoms.
The dog had thankfully stopped barking. It stood on the seat next to Tess, careful not to stand on her as it leaned forward and licked Mason’s hand.
“Good dog.” He stroked the dog’s head. “You did good, boy.” He needed to get her out of here, get them both some water, then get her somewhere other than the back seat of her car. “I’ll be right back,” he told her.
She reached for his hand, clutching it in a death grip. “Don’t leave me.”
“I’m not leaving. I’m just getting you some water.” He left the back door of the car open, thankful it had finally stopped raining, and raced back to his truck. Clearing off the seat, he made a place for her, then grabbed one of the half-empty water bottles that were always rolling around his pickup.
“I’m here,” he said, minutes later as he slid into the back seat with her and lifted her head onto his lap. “I brought you some water. I need you to try to sit up.”
She nodded, grasping his hand as she tried to lean forward.
He held the water bottle to her lips and persuaded her to take a few sips. Her lips looked dry, and he was pretty sure she was dehydrated. Which, he knew from his mom’s experiences, only made the migraine worse.
He poured a little water in the cup on the floor, and for the first time, Dewey left Tess’s side to jump to the floor and lap at the cup.
Mason may not be good at a lot of things, but he excelled at taking care of sick animals. He had the patience and the heart to tend to their wounds and coax them back to health. He’d even at one time considered being a veterinarian. Not that Tess was a sick animal, but he knew she was in trouble and she needed him.
“I’m gonna get you out of here,” he told her, brushing her hair back from her forehead and laying a tender kiss on her forehead.
He backed out of the car, gently sliding her body along the seat until he could get his arms under her. Then he cradled her body against his as he carried her to his truck. Thankful that he’d brought the older truck, he laid her out on the bench seat. Dewey followed at his heels, jumping into the seat and curling against Tess’s body.
After getting her settled on the seat, he ran back to her car, grabbed her purse and tote and the keys from the floor, locked the car, and slammed the door shut. He’d come back and get the car later. For now, he needed to focus on Tess.
He tossed her things into the truck and slid in next to her, gently lifting her head and resting it on his lap. Lifting the water bottle to her lips, he tried to get her to take another drink before he pulled out of the lot and headed back to the ranch.
* * *
Tessa rolled over in bed, smooth cotton sheets caressing her skin, as the pounding in her head thankfully subsided.
Wait. There were no smooth cotton sheets in the back of her Ford Taurus. And there definitely wasn’t enough room to stretch out her legs the way she was doing now. Where the heck was she?
Her eyes popped open, and she squinted back against the soft sunlight that streamed through the window of the bedroom. She glanced around, recognizing the dresser, the window coverings, the bed. Mason’s bed.
She was in Mason’s bedroom. But how the heck had she gotten here?
She distinctly rememb
ered getting in her car and driving away from the ranch the night before. She remembered pulling into the alley behind the library and climbing into the back seat of the car as the shooting pain of the migraine pounded against her skull.
And that was the last clear thing she remembered.
The rest of her night had been in-and-out fuzzy moments and dreams filled with riding in Mason’s truck, her head cradled in his lap, and memories of her mother taking care of her when she was sick. If she closed her eyes, she could almost feel her mother’s soothing touch as she stroked her head or brushed back her hair.
Snippets of voices and murmurs blended together with sensations of soft, warm fabric and a dimly lit room.
Mason must have found her somehow and brought her back here. But how had he found her?
Oh my gosh. He had to have seen me sleeping in my car.
What could he be thinking of her now? And had he spent the whole night taking care of her?
She pushed up against the pillow, leaning her back against the headboard.
Dewey was curled on the bed by her feet. He stood and carefully walked toward her as if he knew she’d been hurting. He tipped his nose to her face, sniffing her once, then gently licked her cheek.
“You’re such a sweet dog,” she whispered, running her hand down his back as he lay down on the pillow next to her and rested his head on her arm.
The scent of bacon and coffee filled the air, and her stomach let out a loud rumble.
It was a good sign that she was hungry. It wasn’t a good sign that she was wearing a faded blue T-shirt that read Creedence High School Football on the front.
That was not the shirt she’d been wearing when she’d left.
She heard hushed voices in the next room and recognized one as Vivi’s.
Oh no.
When she’d left here the night before, she’d been wearing a similar T-shirt, a pair of sweats, and nothing else. She did not want to face Mason’s mom from under the covers of his bed wearing only a thin T-shirt and no undies.
She peeked under the covers and let out a sigh of relief when she saw her bottom half ensconced in a pair of black gym shorts.
“Good morning. How’s the head, honey?” Vivi sailed into the room, a cup of steaming coffee in her hand. She held out the mug. “You take cream and sugar?”
Tess shook her head. “I’ll take it however you got it. I’d take an intravenous drip if you think you could manage it.”
Vivi chuckled as she handed her the cup, then gestured to the end of the bed. “Okay if I sit?”
“Sure.”
“You gave my boy quite a fright last night. He called me on his way home, and I met him over here. I haven’t heard him that upset in a long time.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare anyone. I usually have a better handle on my migraines. This one just got away from me.”
“I hear you. I get them every once in a while as well. I know how they can throw you for a loop. This one seemed pretty bad. How are you feeling now?”
Tess stretched her neck from side to side. “My body aches, but my head is clear.”
“That’s good. We pulled out all the stops last night. Warm compresses, lavender oil, peppermint oil, sips of ginger root tea, and ibuprofen. Mason said you had an empty bottle of Advil in your bag, so we assumed you could take it okay.”
Gah. Mason had been in her bag. Her mind raced with thoughts of what he could have found in there as she nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine taking it. I just didn’t have any. And didn’t have the strength to go to the store and buy any.” Or the money. There was that too.
“We’re just glad you’re okay.” Mason’s mom patted her leg, and Tess’s throat tightened with emotion as she realized her dreams of her mother’s hands might have been Vivi’s instead.
“How’s the patient?” Mason’s low voice asked as he sauntered into the room and leaned a hip against the dresser. His dark eyes were narrowed as he studied her and didn’t contain any of the teasing glints they usually held.
The fabric of the air seemed to change when he walked in, as if all the oxygen had been sucked from the room.
He was so dang hot.
He wore jeans and the same square-toed leather boots he’d had on the day before. A faded red T-shirt stretched across his broad chest, and a faint hat ring circled his head.
It seemed as if his eyes saw right through her—saw every fib and half-truth that she had told him. Yesterday she’d seen affection, tenderness, and lust in his eyes. Now she only saw distrust and suspicion.
She could understand his wariness. She probably wouldn’t feel too trusting of a guy she’d found sleeping in his car either.
If he’d only let her explain…
And say what? More lies? Maybe she should just tell him the truth. She could start by simply answering his question. “I’m fine. Better. Thanks to you. And your mom.” She smiled shyly at Vivi.
Mason’s features softened as he glanced at his mother. “Yeah, she was great. She knew a bunch of tricks I never would have tried. Thanks, Mom.”
Vivi shrugged and patted Tess’s leg again. “It’s nice to be needed sometimes. And I’m just glad you’re feeling better.”
“I can take it from here,” Mason said.
His mom stood up and laid a hand on his arm. “I’m here if you need me. And I’ll see you later at the exhibition game.”
“Thanks. I’ll be there.”
Tess noticed he didn’t say “We’ll be there.” Vivi had asked her the day before if she’d be willing to help her and Quinn with the snack bar during the game, and Tess had been excited to be part of the day. But was her time with Mason James now up? Was he waiting for his mom to leave so he could chew Tess out, then send her packing?
Neither of them said anything as they listened to Vivi collecting her things and leaving the bunkhouse.
Mason let out a sigh as they heard the screen door slam.
Tess hoped he would sit in the spot Vivi had just vacated, but he stayed where he was, leaning against the dresser. His stance was seemingly casual, but she could see the stiffness in his shoulders, the solemn line of his lips.
“You really feeling okay?”
She nodded, unable to speak around the lump forming in her throat. She didn’t want to lie to him anymore. She wanted to come clean, to tell him everything. But that was the fastest way to ruin everything between them. And she liked what they’d started.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better. But I gotta tell you, I have a lot of questions.”
“I know,” she whispered. And prayed she would have the answers.
“I came into town last night to apologize for getting so worked up about you and Rock. And I figured you might be hungry, so I made you a sandwich and brought you some supper.”
“You made me a sandwich?” A flicker of happiness rose in her chest. She didn’t think anyone other than her family had ever made her a sandwich before.
“Yeah, I did. I thought I was being nice, but I ended up feeling like a fool when I went to the hotel to give it to you and found out you weren’t checked in there.”
His eyes focused in on hers, piercing her heart with the hurt she saw there. She looked down at her hands, clasped tightly in her lap.
“No,” he continued. “In fact, you hadn’t been staying there at all. Apparently, you’ve been sleeping in your car in the alley behind the library.” He paused, as if waiting for her to explain.
She didn’t know what to say. Where to even start. How to even find her voice. “How did you find me?” she finally managed to ask.
A faint smile tugged at his lips, and he pointed to Dewey. “It was your miniature Lassie over there. He was barking up a storm. I called your cell, and you must have had enough wits about you to pick up. I could hear him barking through the phone.”
; She peered down at the little dog, his brown eyes looking up at her with what could only be described as devotion. “You are a good dog.” His tail beat a quick tap against the pillow.
If only she could appease Mason as easily. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry’s fine, but that doesn’t explain what the hell you were doing sleeping in your car. Are you homeless?”
She let out a humorless laugh. Not yet, anyway. “No, I’m not homeless. Just broke. I really do live with my grandmother in Denver, but I couldn’t afford the gas to come up and down the mountain, and I couldn’t afford to stay several nights in a hotel.”
“Then why did you agree to be my date for the wedding? To stay up here all weekend? Was it just to get a chance to meet Rock?”
Pain tore through her heart—his question was hitting way too close to home. She shook her head. “Of course not.” She choked out the words. His assumptions may not be true now, but they certainly were at the time. “I’d never even heard of your brother. That’s the truth.” She could say that honestly; she hadn’t known who Rock even was before a few days ago.
She could also be honest with Mason about something else. Her feelings. She glanced up at him, her voice barely above a whisper as she answered, “I agreed to be your date because I liked you.”
He sighed and scraped a hand across his face. “I liked you too.”
Liked?
Mason finally moved. Pushing away from the dresser, he crossed to the bed. She scooted over, making room for him to sit next to her.
He settled on the bed, his hip barely brushing hers as he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. Turning his head, he stared at her, studying her face as if looking for the truth.
A fist squeezed around her heart.
She waited, barely able to breathe. Knowing that was the one thing that she couldn’t give him.
He took a deep breath. “I still like you. My heart damn near stopped when I saw you passed out in that car. But I was also pissed off. Pissed that you wouldn’t come to me. Pissed that you made me think you were staying at the hotel. Pissed that you made me feel like an idiot you’d tricked into believing one thing when something else was really happening. I hate being lied to, Tess. And I hate being made to feel like a fool.”
