Sheltered by the Cowboy

by Carla Cassidy

  His father throwing a dinner plate at the wall while his mother cowered in a corner... Brody being told to clean up the slop his mother had cooked. Never knowing when a fist would slam into him, or when a kick would take him down. Never knowing any safety at all.

  By that time they’d reached the house, where Graham’s rental car was already parked. He exited his car as they got out of Brody’s truck.

  “I’m all ready to work,” he said with his wide smile.

  “Me, too,” Mandy replied. She led the two men to the front door, unlocked it and then ushered them inside.

  “Maybe we should try to finish up Dad’s bedroom?” Graham said.

  “That’s probably a good idea,” Mandy replied, but a shadowed darkness leaped into her eyes. Brody knew she was probably remembering the last time she’d been in that bedroom, desperately trying to keep the door closed against an attacker with a knife.

  He hated that memory in her brain. He wished he could erase it from her mind. But he couldn’t do that, so instead he slung his arm over her shoulder and they all moved down the hallway. She leaned into him as if aware of his emotional support.

  They worked together boxing up books for the library and clothes for a local charity. They tossed away items that had no value to anyone. There was a drawer full of paperwork that looked to be important. Mandy dumped it in a box to take back to her place and look through at another time.

  At six thirty Seth showed up with a couple of young men and a huge truck.

  “I can’t thank you enough,” he said to Mandy as his men carried out the sofa and then came back in for chairs and other furniture.

  “I’m just glad you can use everything,” she replied. “I was going to donate the beds to the thrift store unless you want them.”

  “I’ll be glad to take them. Those are the kinds of things I store, and as some of the younger folk start setting up housekeeping, they know they can come to me for help,” Seth replied.

  It was an hour later when Seth drove away, and the house now held a vacant echo. Mandy walked around the nearly empty room where her father had slept. “I still can’t believe somebody killed him,” she said softly.

  “I always thought I’d have the chance to come back here and make peace with him,” Graham replied, a wistfulness in his tone. “I hate it that I waited too long.”

  The siblings hugged and then stepped apart. “Are you sure there isn’t something you want to keep from here?” Mandy asked him. “I’m planning on keeping a few of Mom’s things unless you want them.”

  Graham shook his head. “I don’t want anything. Are you going to do anything before putting the house on the market? Several of the bedrooms could use a coat of paint.”

  Mandy shook her head. “No, I just want to be done with it. The only thing I need to do is look for a place for me to move. I’m hoping the apartment above the garage will be a good selling point.”

  “It’s a decent place with good land,” Brody said. “You shouldn’t have any problem selling it, but it might not be before spring.”

  “Dad still had a small mortgage on it, but we can pay that off and still have a bit of money to split,” she replied.

  “I’ve told you I don’t care about the money,” Graham replied. “Take it and open that restaurant you’ve talked about. And now, I think I’m going to take off. I’m not used to moving furniture. I didn’t realize I was so out of shape.”

  Mandy turned to Brody. “If you don’t mind, I just want to grab a few things from upstairs and then we can call it a night.”

  “Fine with me,” he replied.

  Goodbyes were said. Minutes later Graham left and Brody followed her up the stairs. They had gone up only halfway when frantic yelling came from outside.

  “Stay here,” Brody said firmly. He turned and flew back down the stairs and out the front door with his gun drawn. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. When they did he saw Graham on the ground next to his car.

  “Help me,” Graham moaned and slowly pulled himself to his feet. Brody gasped at the sight of blood trekking down his chin from a busted lip.

  “What happened?” Brody asked as he holstered his gun and ran to him. He held Graham up and helped him back toward the front door.

  “Somebody attacked me.” Graham moaned again and leaned heavily on Brody. “I thought he was going to kill me.” He spat a mouthful of blood. “He came out of nowhere. I think he might have broken my ribs.”

  They reached the front door, and in the better lighting Graham’s wounds became more apparent. He not only had a busted lip but also showed the beginnings of a swollen, blackened eye.

  “Mandy,” Brody called. “We need to get your brother to the emergency room.”

  She came running down the stairs and cried out as she saw Graham. “Oh my God...what happened?”

  “We can talk on the way. Let’s go,” Brody replied.

  They got into Brody’s truck, and as he drove Graham told Mandy what had happened. “Whoever it was, I thought he was going to kill me. He punched me in the face first and then, when I fell on the ground, he kept kicking me and kicking me.” Graham’s voice trembled slightly and his breathing was labored.

  Brody remained silent, but a cold chill took possession of his body. George had been murdered and somebody had attacked Mandy. He suspected that same somebody had gone after Graham. It appeared that person wanted to wipe the entire Wright family off the face of the earth.

  Chapter 8

  Mandy paced the emergency waiting room, fighting back tears as they waited to hear about Graham’s condition. Dillon had already arrived. He’d questioned her and Brody and then had gone to speak to Graham.

  Who had done this? Who had attacked her brother? What in the heck was going on? Not only was she now afraid for Graham, but this had also brought back her fear for herself.

  Was this a warning to her? Maybe Jimbo King reminding her about the debt? Or was it something else altogether?

  “Mandy, come sit down,” Brody said and patted the plastic chair next to where he sat. “You’re wearing a hole in the floor.”

  She walked over to the chair, sank down and then looked at him through tear-filled eyes. “Brody, why is this all happening?”

  His eyes were soft. “You know I don’t have an answer for you.” He threw an arm around her shoulder and she leaned into his solid warmth.

  Usually whenever he had his arm around her and she smelled his familiar scent, she somehow believed everything would be okay. But at this moment, she wasn’t sure how anything was ever going to be okay again.

  She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, trying not to think of how horrendous Graham had looked, attempting not to remember all the blood that had been on her father.

  Who was it? Why were they after her and her brother? What did they want?

  Her eyelids shot open and they both stood as Dillon came back into the room. The man looked ten years older than he had the last time she’d seen him. This little crime spree or whatever was taking its toll on him.

  “How’s my brother?” Mandy asked. “They haven’t let us back to see him yet.”

  “The doctor is on his way out momentarily. I’m headed out to your place to take a look around,” Dillon replied.

  “I hope Graham was able to give you more information than he gave to us,” Brody said.

  “The attack came out of nowhere. The man wore a ski mask and ran off when Graham managed to cry out for help.” Dillon sighed. “Not much to go on.”

  “But it sounds like the same person who came after me,” Mandy said.

  “Except whoever it was beat your brother. Thank God he didn’t have a knife or we’d be having this conversation downstairs in the morgue.”

  Dillon’s words shot a new chill up Mandy’s spine.
Reality had become a nightmare and the only thing that kept her from spinning into complete insanity was the man standing next to her.

  The man whose kiss had sparked a life, a desire inside her that no man had ever done before. At the moment it felt as if that kiss had happened a lifetime ago.

  Dillon said his goodbyes, and then Dr. Wendall Johnson came out and told them they could see Graham. Mandy hurried toward the cubicle where a curtain was drawn.

  Mandy pulled it back and gasped at the sight of her brother. He looked small in the hospital bed. Not only was his lower lip split, but he also had a swollen black eye that looked horrendous.

  “Oh, Graham,” she exclaimed and moved to his side to take his hand in hers.

  “It’s okay, sis,” Graham replied with a crooked smile. “Right now it looks a lot worse than it feels.”

  Dr. Johnson stepped into the small room. “Good news. Your ribs are bruised, but not broken. There’s a prescription for some pain pills waiting for you in the hospital pharmacy.”

  “That’s definitely good news,” Graham said with a laugh and then winced and grabbed his side. “My ribs sure feel broken.”

  “Mandy and I will walk down and get your script,” Brody said. “And then we’ll take you back to your car or on to the motel if that’s what you want.”

  A little over an hour later, Graham drove away from the ranch, and Brody and Mandy locked up the big house and headed for her apartment. Once inside with her coat off, Mandy collapsed on the sofa. Brody hung up his coat and then sat next to her.

  “I didn’t even think about Graham being in any danger,” she said as a new shiver raced through her. “Thank God you heard him cry out or he might have been beaten to death.”

  Brody frowned. “Maybe this isn’t about the debts your father owed. What happens to the ranch if you and Graham are both dead?”

  She looked at him in surprise. “I guess at this point the bank that owns the mortgage would take it back. Why? What are you thinking?”

  “Nothing specific. I’m just wondering if there’s somebody who wants this place badly enough to kill for it.”

  “But almost everyone in town knows I’m getting it ready to put on the market,” she countered. “Whoever wants it can buy it from me without any blood being spilled.”

  Brody’s frown deepened. “I just can’t understand why anyone would murder your father and then go after both you and Graham.” He released a deep sigh and his frown disappeared. “Hey, where’s that big Mandy smile?”

  “Right now I don’t feel like I’ll ever smile again,” she replied.

  “You know, it’s possible Dillon has a better handle on all this than he’s told us. He tends to play things close to the vest.”

  She eyed him skeptically. “Are you just saying that to get me to smile?”

  He lightly touched the tip of her nose. “I don’t want you to be afraid, Mandy. Graham is a big boy. He’s now on notice and will be very aware of his surroundings until he goes back home to Dallas. As for you, as long as there is breath in my body, nobody is going to hurt you.”

  His eyes filled with a dark fierceness. He jumped up and walked over to lean against the kitchen counter. “It’s late and you have a morning shift.”

  The closeness she’d felt to him only moments before was gone. He appeared distant—closed off—and she wasn’t sure what she had done.

  “Did I do something to make you mad?” she asked. “Sometimes I can do or say something really dumb and don’t even realize it.”

  “Why do you do that?”

  She frowned in confusion. “Do what?”

  “You aren’t dumb or stupid, but you say you are all the time. I think you’re damned smart.”

  She paused, for a moment captured in old memories of hurtful comments from the man she had longed to make proud. “I’ve heard how dumb I am from the time I was ten until my father died. I guess I have an internal voice that repeats all those things to me.”

  Once again Brody’s eyes darkened. “My father beat me with his fists. Your father beat you with his words, but one was just as bad as the other. You need to stop listening to that inner voice. You are not dumb or worthless or anything like that, Mandy.”

  A wealth of emotion pressed tight in her chest, making it impossible for her to reply. Nobody had ever said those kinds of things to her before and she hadn’t realized until now how badly she’d wanted, she’d needed to hear them.

  “Now it’s late and you have an early shift tomorrow. I suggest we get to sleep.” He straightened from the cabinet.

  She nodded, still too gripped by his words to speak. She got up from the sofa, grabbed her nightclothes and then went into the bathroom.

  It was minutes later, when she was in bed and listening to Brody’s deep breathing as he slept on the sofa, that she realized she was falling hopelessly in love with a man who insisted he wanted to be only her friend.

  * * *

  Brody drove down Main Street, looking forward to seeing Ellie again. He had so much to talk to her about and he always felt better after seeing her.

  Tomorrow was Christmas Eve day and Mandy had already told him they were going to watch movies and bake cookies for Santa after she got off work. She’d also made good on her plan to invite Graham to join them for a big holiday lunch.

  The bad girl of Bitterroot continued to surprise him with her warmth and happy nature. She continued to draw him to her, and he kept up his fight against his off-the-charts desire not only to make love to her but also to keep her in his world.

  She made him laugh. She was so easy to talk to and she was so caring. Her domesticity made him think of everything that had left his life when his mother had died. And as always, thoughts of his mother—and his father—tightened his chest with an emotion so huge it frightened him.

  At least some good things were happening. Graham’s wounds were already starting to heal, and over the past couple of days they’d managed to clear out most of the rest of the things from the big house. A For Sale sign now decorated the front yard.

  Unfortunately, Dillon seemed to be spinning his wheels when it came to solving George’s murder and the attacks on Mandy and Graham. He’d interviewed all the likely suspects like Jimbo King, Lloyd Green and the neighbor, Aaron, but according to the lawman the interviews hadn’t yielded a thing.

  Nate Coleman had been taken off the suspect list when he finally showed Dillon proof that he and his wife had been in Oklahoma City visiting family on the night George was murdered.

  Who was responsible for this madness? It was a question that whirled around in Brody’s head at any given moment. As he thought of Mandy so terrified on the floor in George’s bedroom, that same emotion filled him...one that he refused to identify but knew wasn’t good.

  The sun was warm, but the air was frigid as he parked at Ellie’s and got out of his truck. He walked around the back of the small, neat ranch house and knocked on the back door.

  As he waited for Ellie to answer, some of the tension that had been with him for the past week or so fluttered away. Seeing Ellie and talking to her always brought a little peace to his mind.

  She answered the door with a smile and ushered him into the kitchen. “Coffee?” she asked.

  “No thanks. I’m good.”

  He followed her into the living room, where he sat in a brown leather recliner and she sat opposite him at a small, feminine desk.

  Ellie Miller reminded Brody of big Cass. Like Cass, she was a widow, and Brody guessed she was in her seventies. She might be older, but her sharp blue eyes behind her wire-rimmed glasses appeared to be able to look into your very soul. Brody had been seeing her in her official capacity as a psychologist for the past six months.

  Nobody knew he came here. Ellie was his private relief...and his secret shame.

 
; “So, tell me how things are in your world,” she said to begin the session.

  For the next forty-five minutes Brody talked about the murder and the attacks and about Mandy. He told Ellie about his anger toward George and the way he had talked to his daughter. He spoke about his wrath toward the person or persons responsible for the fear that lit Mandy’s eyes.

  When he was finished he was wrung out yet relieved. Ellie leaned back in her chair. “Have you told Mandy you’re in love with her?”

  Brody stared at her in stunned surprise. “I’m not in love with her,” he finally protested. “I’m just being a friend for as long as she needs me.” Dammit, there was no way he’d allow himself to be in love with Mandy. He’d never allow himself to be in love with anyone.

  Ellie took off her glasses, laid them on the top of the desk and then reached up and stroked her hand through her thick gray hair. “Brody, I feel like I’m taking your money under false pretenses.”

  He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “You keep telling me about this rage issue you have, but you’ve never hurt anyone or destroyed property. You’ve never kicked a dog or outwardly displayed that your rage is out of control.”

  “But what about how I feel when I think of my parents? My chest fills with so much anger I feel like I’m going to explode.”

  “Of course you have some anger inside you, but anger can also mask many other emotions. I’ve told you before what I believe. Some of that particular emotion inside you isn’t anger at all. It’s the hurt of a little boy who never got the love he needed, the love he deserved. And you deserved love, Brody.”

  Yes, she’d told him that before, but he didn’t believe it. He hadn’t had nor did he ever want the love of anyone. “What about how I feel about the person who attacked Mandy? That’s a hell of a lot of anger.”

  “And justified,” Ellie replied with a nod. “Somebody tried to do harm to the woman you care for. The fierce male protective quality goes all the way back to caveman days.”