“Thanks.” She took several sips. “Cheated death again.” She tried to laugh but it came out like a hiccup.
“You and me both.” His hand slid along her cheek.
She closed her eyes and relished the heat from his touch. “Do you think he put poison in the food bins?”
“I’ll check.” He went off.
The ambulance arrived. The intruder was revived and carted away. The patrolman followed the ambulance.
Gabriella refused treatment. She was only suffering from a touch of foolhardiness. She moved to get off the floor.
“Next time, listen to me,” the chief cautioned as he helped her up.
“I will,” she promised.
Seth walked toward them, no longer leaning on his cane. “I think you should see this.”
The chief and Gabriella followed him. All the food bins were open. Seth dug out a handful and showed it to them.
“See all this ground up green stuff? Probably yew, though I can’t say for certain. It’s been added to the feed and mixed in.” He dropped it back in the bin.
“I’ll send it to a lab,” the chief said. “We checked his car and there are a few empty plastic bags in it. They can be analyzed, too.”
“I’ll have to clean out all the bins.” Gabriella’s heart sank. “And I’m supposed to make fourteen dozen cookies.”
“I promised I’d help. We got this.” Seth grinned.
Chapter Nine
Seth’s fist swelled and hurt like the devil, but Navigator came first. The long ride tired out the old horse, and he deserved special treatment.
Gabriella took one look at Seth’s hand and handed him an ice pack.
“He had a rock hard jaw.” Seth wondered why a punch appeared so easy in the movies.
“Why didn’t he shoot us?” she asked with a quiver in her voice.
“He didn’t expect us. The gun’s safety switch was on.” Seth tried to wiggle his fingers. He recognized a broken knuckle when he saw one. Still, he figured he’d wait it out for a while. He didn’t want to break a promise. “I’m sure he thought I’d be easy to knock down since I used a cane.”
She let out a sigh. “Greg was at church. He wants you to teach him how to ride a bronc.”
Seth didn’t hide his surprise. “Can he ride a horse?”
“I don’t think so,” she admitted. “He has a girlfriend and he wants to buy a car. He believes he could make a lot of money in the rodeo.”
Seth laughed. “When he learns how much it costs to get a PRCA permit, he’ll forget about busting broncs.”
“Will you discourage him?” She appeared hopeful.
“I’ll tell the truth.” Too bad honesty didn’t help in dealing with his father’s crisis.
They set to cleaning out the food bins and might have finished sooner but Seth only used his left hand because the right one began to swell as if a two-thousand-pound bull sat on it.
“Your hand looks horrible,” Gabriella exclaimed as they finished the chore.
He shrugged. “Ain’t my first broken knuckle, but maybe my age is catching up with me.”
“I’ll take you to the hospital—and I’ll ask for my hand specialist. He’s good if he’s available.”
“What about your cookies?”
“Your hand is in very bad shape.”
“Yep.” The pain was getting to him, too.
While she herded the alpacas inside the barn and locked everything up tight, Seth sat in her car, gritting his teeth and clutching the ice pack.
She called ahead to be sure her specialist would meet them at the hospital.
“By the way,” he asked. “I didn’t ask you before I hit the guy whether you recognized him from someplace.”
“No, he can’t be from Greenburg. Everyone knows everyone—at least by sight. We’ve got one supermarket, one gas station, one bank, and three churches.”
“Sounds like a big city to me.” He took deep breaths and spaced them out. One thing he learned over and over again from his rodeo career was how to manage severe pain without passing out or screaming. Usually, he fixed an image in his mind of the snow-covered Rockies, but with Gabriella beside him, he concentrated of the taste of her lips, her soft abundant hair, and the tender curve of her waist when he held her.
Thinking a raccoon was responsible for that moment would have been funny if he wasn’t suffering from the excruciating break.
Once they reached the emergency room and he was given serious pain meds, he figured he’d survive.
“Next time, I’ll use my left hand,” he grumbled.
Gabriella stayed with him until they wheeled him into the operating room.
“Go home and get some sleep,” he ordered.
She nodded as tears stained her cheeks.
Nobody had ever cried for him until now, and despite all his own misgivings about women, his heart opened wide.
* * *
Gabriella knew Seth would receive the best treatment possible, but she worried anyhow. Watching him deck the bad guy reminded her of all the old movies she viewed over and over with her father, but none of the cowboys in the movies ever broke a knuckle.
She called up her favorite baker and ordered fourteen dozen cookies since she had no time to bake them herself. She refused to feel guilty about it, either. She checked on the alpacas and Navigator before she went into the house to do battle with her spreadsheets, but the box of roses caught her attention. She opened the box and took out the card.
Your cowboy is the son of Keith Holmes who was responsible for a huge pyramid scheme which bilked investors out of a total of approximately three million dollars. Many of those people lost their entire retirement savings. Your veterinarian is the son of a con man.
Gabriella stared at the paper in disbelief. Gramps and Granny were such good people. How could their son be a crook?
She ignored her spreadsheets and searched on the Internet for the truth. She found it—with photos. Stunned, she stared at the glowing computer screen. Would Seth have helped his father to defraud all those people? Though his father’s assets were frozen, the investors received only a small percentage of what they handed over to Keith Holmes.
She searched for more information on Seth. Mostly, she found an abundance of material involving his well-documented rodeo career. Her heart raced as she drank in the full-color, action shots of him—handsome and brave with his daring grin, sitting on bucking broncos.
With continued diligence, she located a photo of him scattering his father’s ashes on Pike’s Peak. She also found a news story about a car chase and shoot out in which one of the angry investors attacked Seth. The attacker was later jailed.
Seth was questioned but never implicated in his father’s crime. But did he know about it? Did he really care about talking with his grandmother? Or did he intend to challenge the will? Could he? Gramps and Grammy’s lawyer assured Gabriella she was the legal heir.
Her thoughts spun as she sat at the computer.
The sound of a car pulling into the drive shot panic through her veins. Fearful after the day’s earlier event, she peeked out the window. Marshall stepped out of a huge, luxury sport utility vehicle.
She thinned her lips. Seth’s attention might be questionable, but Marshall needed to get lost.
She went to the door when he rang the bell. “I thought you had a conference.”
“It ended early. Didn’t you get the chocolate and the flowers?”
“Yes, and I’d like to give them back to you.” She walked into the kitchen and picked up the box of roses. Since he followed her, she handed the box to him. “Don’t send me any more.”
“These are from the best florist around. They cost eighty dollars.” He glared at her.
“Give them to your mother. She’ll be very happy.” Next, she walked out to the greenhouse where she left the box of chocolates. She handed those to him, too. “I’m on a diet.”
“That’s a fifty-dollar box of chocolates!”
She
smiled sweetly. “Your mother is worth more.”
“Those are for you. Because of the crash.”
“You could have saved a lot of money by just offering an apology.”
“It was an accident!” His brows furrowed in anger.
She gave her mouth a wry twist. He would never admit anything was his fault. Ever. “Dating you was a catastrophe.”
His eyes opened wide in surprise. “Didn’t you read my note? Your cowboy’s father duped investors out of their money.”
“Seth was never implicated in the crime.”
“He had to know about it.”
“He was questioned, but no charges were brought against him.”
“He’s going to rob you blind. He’ll get that old woman to sign some paper and claim his inheritance.” Marshall dug into his coat and pulled out a jeweler’s box. “You can’t do better than me and you know it.”
She put her hand on his to stop him before he opened the box. He cringed at her touch and stepped back. It took all her strength to keep her emotions in check.
“I don’t want your diamond and I don’t want to go out with you anymore.” She maintained a curt tone.
“You’re as crazy as your Grammy in the nursing home.” He shook a fist at her.
She didn’t blink. “Then certainly, you can do much better than me. Now get out of here before I call my security guard.”
Shock froze on his features. He glanced toward the truck and trailer parked in the driveway. “He’s living in the guesthouse?”
She nodded.
His eyes narrowed, his lips thinned, and his face turned dark red. With his hands balled into fists, he swung around and left.
Trembling, she stepped out of the greenhouse, locking it behind her. She went back into the house, bolted the door, and leaned against it. Why did Marshall want to marry her if he couldn’t stand the touch of her deformed hand on his? What did he intend to do with the ring? Ask her to put it on her own finger?
She let out a mirthless chuckle. He didn’t love her, that much was plain. Furthermore, she never loved him.
She loved Seth.
She sent an email to her lawyer detailing her concerns. Afterwards, she sat at the computer and tackled her spreadsheets before her eyes got tired. The phone rang about a half hour later. Seth was out of the operation and in recovery. His hand would be better than new, the doctor reassured her.
“Tell him not to punch anymore bad guys.” The doctor sounded delighted with his suggestion. “You can pick him up in the morning. He’ll be in good shape by then.”
* * *
Seth struggled to eat breakfast with his left hand when Flint walked into his hospital room carrying a folder packed with notes and emails. Seth had asked him for help after finding the Buffalo’s sweatshirt in Gabriella’s barn Saturday night, and Flint was more than happy to do a bit of investigating.
Flint discovered a number of incidents which seemed to confirm Seth’s suspicions.
“So what do I do about it?” he asked Flint.
“Start with a restraining order.”
“Proving a duped investor in Colorado is after me makes me sound crazy.” Ever since his father’s scandal, Seth wondered how long it would be before he went off his rocker. Maybe now was the time.
“Gabriella should obtain the order of protection against the guy who attempted to poison her alpacas—as well as Navigator.” Flint made a note on a yellow legal pad. “Your adversary in Colorado boasted openly about getting his revenge and the guy you decked yesterday comes from the same town.”
“Which proves nothing.”
“They drank at the same bar.” Flint twirled the pen around like he was whirling a lasso.
“Still a very tenuous connection.”
“The alpaca poisoner is the one who got bitten by Harley.”
“Good for Harley.” Seth nodded. “I knew he was a genius—for an alpaca.”
“Anyhow, we’ll get more information. Everyone is keeping their eyes and ears open.” Flint aimed the pen as if he was about to drop a rope around a steer’s horns. “Unfortunately, your nemesis left Colorado in September and hasn’t been seen since.”
Seth swallowed hard. “So he’s here.”
“They’re checking into it.”
“What if...I leave?” After a lifetime of being wary of women, he found one who seemed different—who didn’t care how much money he had, his rodeo fame, or his looks. She worried about him. She trusted him. She cried for him. Warmth flowed into his heart.
He must protect her. He glared at his bandaged hand. It wasn’t very useful for defense at the moment.
“Until now, the harassment has been centered on poisoning the animals,” Flint pointed out.
“What if the guy I knocked out was only willing to go that far. The next hired man may have fewer scruples.” How far would someone go to get revenge? Seth assumed he could run away from the harassment, but it hadn’t worked. Pain cut through him. His life was marred forever by his father’s greed—and now it endangered Gabriella. How should he break the news to her? Would she believe him?
What if she ordered him out of her life? He dropped his head onto his one good hand.
Flint gave him a pat on the back and promised to continue inquiring. If he came up with anything further, he’d tell him right away.
“By the way,” Flint glanced out at the new day. “That dentist Gabriella dates works in the same dental office as my wife.”
“What does your wife think of him?” Seth asked.
“She doesn’t like him one bit. Says he’s a grouch.”
“He needs an attitude adjustment.” Seth ground out the words.
“Don’t forget the restraining order,” Flint reminded before he left.
Seth nodded. Gabriella was in danger. He must keep her safe.
He struggled to sign the discharge papers with his left hand. Tired and drowsy from the lingering effects of the anesthesia, he pondered how to tell her about the situation. There didn’t seem to be a gentle way to do it.
She was smart and she ran her business well, but she still reminded him of a shy filly—ready to bolt at any moment.
Her car pulled up to the main doors of the hospital and his heart raced despite the drugs in his system. He waved and donned his best cowboy grin—the one he often used after the bronc threw him. That hadn’t happened much, but he discovered it was far better to lose gracefully. Some folks loved the underdog.
She stopped the car and got out of the driver’s seat to open the door for him.
“I still have one good hand,” he reminded her.
She opened the door anyway. “How are you feeling?”
“Ready for a big cup of coffee.” It might give him courage.
“I’ll stop at the coffee shop on the way,” she promised.
“After that, please stop at the police station.” His grin faded and he took a deep breath.
Her eyes grew round with astonishment. “Is the man you hit going to press charges against you?” she asked.
“No, you need to get a restraining order against him.”
“He’s in jail.”
“He’ll post bail.”
“How do you know?”
He shrugged. “Because...”
“He’ll put his house up as collateral?”
“Probably.” It sounded like a reasonable assumption.
Her brow furrowed. “Fine, I’ll do it. I was nervous last night by myself. I’m not usually bothered, but…but Marshall stopped by...”
A spark of anger ignited in his veins. “I hope you told him to get lost.”
“He wanted to give me a huge engagement ring.”
Seth’s heart stopped. “Did you accept it?”
“Since he cringed when I touched him with my scarred hand, the answer is no.”
She did not camouflage the deep hurt. Seth reached over to wipe away a lone tear coursing down her cheek.
“Also, in an attempt to discredit you
, Marshall tipped me off about your father’s gigantic pyramid scheme. I should have checked into your background on my own, but I didn’t. A foolish mistake on my part.”
Seth’s mouth turned so dry, a gallon of coffee would not relieve the problem. He could barely clear his throat.
“Of course, from what I read, you were never implicated, but it does make me wonder...”
“I didn’t have a clue,” he whispered. He’d said the same words over and over again, but nobody believed him. Not his girlfriend, not his former buddies, and no one at his former church. The only people who stuck by him were those who had always been with him—his rodeo family. They recognized what his father was early on.
“That’s difficult to believe.”
What could he say? This was the end of their friendship. He realized it would end, but right now, she needed protection.
“I think the man attempting to poison your alpacas was hired by one of the investors who lost their money. I never believed anyone would make a connection between the Holmes’ farm in New Jersey and me. After all, until I found that photograph when I was going through my father’s papers, I didn’t know about the farm.”
She pulled up in front of the coffee shop. He figured this was the time for him to leave. Awkwardly, he reached over and tried to pull at the latch with his left hand, but it wouldn’t budge.
“Safety lock.” She smiled. “What do you want in your coffee?”
“Aren’t you going to kick me out?”
“No. You should have revealed your predicament when we first met, but I realize I am at fault as well. So how much sugar in your coffee and do you want milk, cream, or the hazelnut stuff?”
He blinked. Maybe she wasn’t a shy filly after all. “Hazelnut creamer. No sugar.”
She went into the shop. When was she going to treat him like a pariah?
Chapter Ten
Gabriella diligently filled out all the forms needed to obtain a restraining order.
“This isn’t necessary,” the police chief reassured her. “He’ll never make bail.”
“Better to be safe than sorry.” She paused a moment to glance at Seth who sat on a bench, looking as if he was somewhere between praying and contemplating a trip to Antarctica. In the drive from the coffee shop to the police station, he’d revealed more of his saga and her heart went out to him.
The Cowboy's Miracle Page 8
