Royal Trouble

by Becky McGraw

  Pushing off of the wall, Leigh Ann bent to gather up her dress and shoes from the floor. When she leaned over, blood rushed to her head and she stumbled then fell to her knees. Sitting back on her haunches, she put her arms around her waist and took deep breaths to try and get her senses back.

  "Tell it to the press, sweetheart, because I don't believe a word of it. You went out with that woman last night to get your name back in the headlines. You knew that fixing her up like that, and parading her in that bar would accomplish that." Frigid and angry, Wes's eyes pinned her with hatred.

  Defeat surged through her and Leigh Ann jerked her dress off the floor, draped it over her arm, then looped the straps of her sandals over her fingers. Using a hand on the vanity, she pulled up to her feet. "I'll be out of your hair in a minute," she told him softly. "Thanks for the ride, and I'm sorry to get you involved in this."

  "Where the hell do you think you're going to go? The ranch?" Wes demanded and followed her out of the bathroom into the hall.

  "What the hell do you care where I go? As long as I'm not here, you're good right?"

  Leigh Ann continued down the hall, hesitated at the top of the stairs to regain her composure, then put her foot on the first tread. Dizziness floated through her, as she moved down two more treads. Only six more and she would have her feet on firm ground. On the next stair though, she knew she needed to sit down, before she wound up taking the last few on her back.

  "Are you okay?" Wes asked gruffly moving around her to stand below her and grip her shoulders.

  "Just give me a second, and I'll be fine. I'm dizzy." Leigh Ann's heart was doing strange things in her chest, and she put her hand there to rub.

  "You need to go to the damned hospital," he grated then the next thing she knew, Leigh Ann was in his arms, struggling to hold on as he stomped toward the front door.

  "Put me down! I think I'm just dehydrated, I'll drink some water," she protested.

  He stopped at the front door, but didn't put her down. "You need IV fluids, drinking water isn't going to cut it. You might have had a heat stroke in the back of that truck."

  "Just put me down, and I'll call Dylan to come get me," she told him. "He'll take me to the hospital. If someone sees us there together, it'll only get worse for you."

  "Dylan?" Wes grated, his face turning an even angrier shade of red, as his arms tightened around her.

  "Yeah, I'll call him and see if he'll take me to the hospital," she told him.

  Leigh Ann wasn't sure that Dylan would come and get her at all. Or that she was capable of climbing up in his big truck. But Dylan had helped her before, let her stay in his trailer, so maybe he would.

  At this point, Leigh Ann didn't have many other choices.

  There wasn't anyone else to help her. Wes hated her, her mother wanted to use her, her sister thought she was a screw up, and Leigh Ann didn't have any friends.

  She was alone now. Totally and completely alone. Nobody gave a damn about her. A sad thing to realize, considering her lifelong mission was to be nice and helpful to everyone. Look where nice and helpful had gotten her.

  Depression settled in Leigh Ann's chest. Wes jostled her in his arms, and Leigh Ann's arms automatically went around his neck to keep from falling.

  Opening the door, he growled near her ear, "Bullshit, I'm taking you to the hospital. You don't even know that guy."

  Wes was right, she didn't know Dylan very well, but she didn't know Wes all that well either. Her heart seemed to know Wes well enough though. It wiggled in her chest at the thought he might care about her just a little, because he was taking her to the hospital himself rather than let her ride with Dylan.

  At this point though, she couldn't trust that organ, because she was grasping at straws that someone cared about her.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The door closed behind the stern-faced gray haired doctor, and Leigh Ann smoothed the band-aid over the place on her arm where he had removed the IV. After two hours of treatment, she did feel better, but worse at the same time. Since Wes left her at the admission desk in the ER waiting room, she hadn't seen him.

  Leigh Ann didn't even know if he had stuck around to give her a ride wherever she was going when they released her, or if the drive to the hospital had been the extent of his generosity. The point was really moot now anyway. After they released her, Leigh Ann had nowhere to go, even if she had a ride.

  Her mother should be over the moon thrilled right now. The fame she had always sought for Leigh Ann had happened in spades. Everyone on the planet knew her name and face now. The only problem was that fame came with a price. Her image would always be associated with the fiasco at the bar. She'd be laughed at, wherever she went. Leigh Ann would be a social outcast, shunned and avoided, so she didn't taint the images of others.

  Like she had Senator Rooks wife, Allison.

  If she stayed around Wes, if he would let her stay around him, he and Trey would be dragged into the media spectacle too. Their life would be ruined just like hers. Leigh Ann wasn't going to let that happen. Outside that bar in downtown Amarillo, Leigh Ann Baker, former Miss Texas, had hit rock bottom, and she was afraid it was going to take more than she had to climb back up that mountain. Wes didn't deserve to be dragged down with her.

  Leigh Ann fought the despair that tried to overwhelm her as emotion built behind her eyes. As much as she wanted to indulge in one, pity party wasn't going to get her anywhere, but she was having a heck of a time keeping herself from going there. With shaking hands she picked up the green scrub suit the nurse had left for her at the end of the bed and put it on. For a woman who had been positive all of her life, who had put forth a bubbly, happy front because her mother had demanded it, and others expected it, Leigh Ann was on her knees emotionally now, not happy at all, and tired of pretending.

  Sitting up on the side of the bed, Leigh Ann hesitated before standing to let her dazed brain settle. Taking a deep breath she pushed up to her feet just as the door opened and her mother rushed inside with a reporter hot on her heels. Energy buzzed from both women, so much energy it made Leigh Ann's head hurt again.

  "Darling, Dr. Jepson called and said you were in the hospital," Trudy Baker said breathlessly, putting her hand to her chest in a show of concern. It was obvious to Leigh Ann her mother was putting on that show for the reporter, because the corner of her red-painted lips quirked up with her words, and her eyes glittered with excitement.

  Leigh Ann groaned because of two things. One was her mother realized that Wes was a veterinarian, a doctor, which would put her on point like a dog treeing a squirrel. The second was she realized he cared enough about Leigh Ann to call to let her family know she was in the hospital. A doctor, no matter what kind, who cared about her at all spelled a mission to hook them up according to her mother's rules.

  "I just got overheated, mama. There's no need for the drama," Leigh Ann told her flatly and took a wobbly step toward the door.

  "Wesley said you might be held overnight," her mother informed sounding almost as if she wanted that to happen. "I brought Danielle with me so we could do a press release, if that was the case." Not once had her mother asked how she felt, all she could focus on was how she could use the event for a sound bite.

  "Danielle?" Leigh Ann repeated dumbly, because she had no idea who her mother was talking about.

  "Your new press agent," Trudy Baker told her, then laid her hand on the arm of the dark-haired woman standing beside her.

  "I don't need a press agent, mother." Leigh Ann groaned. She was running from the press, not courting them, and she wasn't going to let her mother put her on that runaway horse. That is what got her here in the first place.

  "You are famous now, sweetie. You need someone to put a spin on that terrible event last night to make it work in your favor."

  "There's no spin...I made a mistake and just want to forget it ever happened," Leigh Ann told her tiredly and moved past her to the door.

  "There are offers, Lei
gh Ann."

  "Offers?" Leigh Ann pulled on the door and walked out into the hallway, then looked up and down the corridor for Wes.

  "The phone at the ranch has been ringing off the hook, since the news broke. Women from all over the country want you to do makeovers on them. Terri Rhodes had to take the phone off the hook, before I left."

  Leigh Ann staggered, then stopped and spun back to face her mother. "Really?"

  "Yes, Terri wants you to come back to the ranch so she can talk to you. And we need to talk about holding some press events."

  "No events, mother, I need some space to think about this, and to talk to Terri," Leigh Ann told her with her head spinning again.

  Where the hell was Wes? Her eyes scanned the hall again, but she still didn't see him. The only thing she wanted to do right now was get the hell out of this hospital and away from her mother, so she could think.

  "Darling, you look white as a sheet," Trudy said and took her arm when she wobbled on her feet. "I think we need to talk to that doctor and see if they'll keep you overnight for observation."

  "I don't want to stay here, mother," Leigh Ann hissed and jerked her arm out of Trudy's grasp, the momentum sending her staggering back into the wall. "Just leave me the hell alone!"

  Her mother's eyebrow lifted in surprise, then her lips pinched. Leigh Ann realized she had yelled those words when a hush descended in the corridor. She glanced down the hallway to see nurses, doctors and patients alike stopped in the hallway to stare at her. Heat crawled up her neck to her face, and she pushed off the wall then walked with purpose past the admission desk, through the waiting room and out the front door of the hospital feeling eyes burning her back all the way.

  This was her life, not her mother's. The days of Trudy Baker making decisions for her were over. Leigh Ann was tired of playing nice. Her mother and that press agent could go straight to hell and sell ice water when they got there, because they sure weren't going to be selling her. Leigh Ann was not for sale. Leigh Ann kept walking across the darkened parking lot with no idea where she was going, but as long as it was away from her mother she would be happy.

  A truck door slammed behind her, then she heard a voice shout her name. Leigh Ann didn't stop, she had to get away from here, then find a telephone to call her sister. Roxanne might not talk to her now, but she was the only one who might.

  "Leigh Ann!" the voice shouted louder and she heard heavy hurried footsteps.

  When a hand landed on her shoulder anger shot through her. Leigh Ann's fist clenched, and she rounded ready to do battle. The fight left her though when she recognized her sister's fiancé, Ethan Cassidy, standing there tall, broad-shouldered and tense with concern in his dark green eyes.

  "What are you doing here?" Leigh Ann asked breathlessly.

  "Roxanne is really worried about you, and I came to make sure you were okay." His tone held a hint of accusation that sent guilt darting through Leigh Ann. "You need a ride?"

  Leigh Ann huffed out a breath, then replied in a shaky voice, "Yeah, but I don't have anywhere to go..."

  "You always have somewhere to go, Leigh Ann. Your sister loves you, and wants to help you, and so do I." Her sister couldn't love her now, or want her around. Leigh Ann had put Roxanne in a helluva pickle at the ranch, she was sure. The last thing she wanted to do was cause her more trouble, by going back there.

  "I've caused Rocky nothing but trouble since I showed up here. The last thing she needs is me going back to the ranch. And your sister is probably beside herself too. I've created nothing but problems for everyone."

  "Terri wants you to come back to the ranch too...she wants to talk to you."

  "So mama wasn't lying?" Leigh Ann asked incredulously. Her mother tended to inflate the truth, or create her own version of the truth when the truth didn't suit her. Because she had dealt with that all her life, Leigh Ann hadn't believed her.

  "If your mama told you the phone is on fire at the ranch, and the women who call are rabid to have you do a makeover on them, then yeah, she wasn't lying."

  "Incredible."

  Ethan chuckled and squeezed her shoulder. "That's exactly what Terri said. Let's get the heck out of here, before your mother finds you."

  "Damn good plan," Leigh Ann said and followed his broad back across the parking lot to his truck.

  Wes sat at his desk and ran the numbers on his calculator again. He'd been at this since three in the morning, and he knew he was wasting time, but while he recalculated he was trying to come up with a plan that would include paying his mortgage note that was due in two weeks. No matter how many times he added though, Wes knew that was never going to happen, unless he sent out someone to crack a few skulls to collect the money owed to him. But he also knew the only skull that was going to be cracked though was his own, from banging it against his desk. After the last bang, he rested his forehead on the blotter on the desk fighting the nausea curdling the coffee in his belly. A full pot since he gave up on sleeping and came out here to get some work done.

  It was so late by the time he left the hospital, his mother had kept Trey overnight, which she had been doing entirely too much lately. Laying in his empty bed in the empty house, all Wes had to focus on was work, since worrying about Leigh Ann Baker had kept him from sleeping. Even though he had called her family and left her with medical professionals, the feeling that he'd done the wrong thing by leaving her at the hospital alone just wouldn't go away. Trying to work in this state had just made matters worse. The status of his finances laid out before him in black and white was definitely an eye-opener.

  At five o'clock in the morning, he'd finally come to the conclusion the only folks benefiting from the free vet services he gave to struggling farmers were those farmers and their animals. Wes certainly wasn't doing himself any favors.

  From now on, he was going to stop being so damned nice and put himself and his son first. He had no choice. If those farmers needed free services from now on, they would just have to trailer their animals and head to the next county to the free clinic staffed by vet students from A & M. He had to make some money.

  If Laura hadn't raped him financially when she left, he wouldn't be in this shape. Emptying both their personal and his business accounts, she had put him in a black hole financially and emotionally he was afraid he'd never claw his way out of. Wes might have considered going after her, if she hadn't used Trey to threaten him. Leave it alone, or she was going for full custody, and he'd pay triple over time. And she would have his son.

  No fucking way was he going to let that happen. The flighty woman hadn't been a good mother when she was with him, she would be worse without him to watch out for Trey. So Wes had bought his son, and thanked God when he saw her back on the way out of town. At least he had protected them for the future, or thought that was what he had done. Now, he wasn't so sure.

  For seven years he'd been trying to recover, and the proof that he had failed was right in front of him. He was going to lose his house and business, if he couldn't figure out how to pay the mortgage note in the next two weeks. And he was alone to figure that out. Just the way he wanted it. Roxanne was gone, Leigh Ann was gone. Handling the books, scheduling appointments and farm calls, was all on him. And fighting to make sure he and Trey had a roof over their heads in two weeks was all on him too.

  Desolation tried to overwhelm him when he added the thought of trying to interview someone to help him. He didn't have the time or energy. It would probably take another two weeks to find someone, and another month to train them.

  Too little, too late.

  For the first time in years, Wes felt like bawling like a baby. The last time he'd done that was the night that Laura had left him. Of course that could have had something to do with the fifth of Jack he'd consumed that night too. Regardless, he swore then he would never do that again.

  But this was an exceptional situation...a lot more dire than Laura leaving had been.

  Wes folded his arms and rested his head on the des
k. Closing his eyes he sucked in a deep breath, then let it out slowly to corral his emotions. He could do this, he would figure it out, he had to. Sitting here pitying himself wasn't going to solve his problems. A wave of exhaustion floated over him, and he couldn't make himself sit up, instead he let it take him.

  The whoosh of the front door of the office, followed by the light-hearted tinkle of the bell above it woke him up. Heart racing, Wes sat straight up and fought to get his senses, glancing at the clock to see it was only seven o'clock. His first appointment wasn't until ten, so he knew it wasn't a patient.

  Rubbing his scratchy eyes with his fists, Wes stood then ran a hand over his beard shadowed jaw. Stiff and sore from sleeping on his desk, it took a minute for him to find his balance to stagger to the door of his office. When he recognized his visitor, the breath locked up in his chest and his feet stopped moving.

  Sitting at the reception desk, fresh and dressed in jeans and a tank top, her shiny blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail was Leigh Ann Baker, looking none the worse for wear after her experience yesterday. Except for the black eye she couldn't quite conceal with her makeup, it might be just any other day.

  "What are you doing here?" he asked in confusion.

  Tilting her head, Leigh Ann Baker blinked her penetrating blue eyes twice. "Working of course." Like yesterday hadn't happened. Like she hadn't walked out of his office a few days ago, leaving him in the lurch.

  "You're fired." Wes hadn't forgotten.

  "I quit, you can't fire me, and I'm back to serve out my two weeks notice," she informed him flatly then shuffled the papers on her desk, before putting them in the corner.

  Serve out her notice? The way her voice sounded, she made it seem like a prison sentence. It would be for him. "I'll pay you for the two weeks, just leave," Wes told her gruffly, but he almost hoped she would refuse again.

  Making her leave would be cutting off his nose, he knew it. He really did need her help until he could find someone else. Even if she was the most incompetent assistant he'd ever had, she was better than nothing. At least she might buy him some time to do some collections.