Rancher's Refuge (Whisper Falls) (2 page)

He lifted a hand to his temple, found the knot. It didn’t hurt much, nothing compared to how the woman’s arm must feel. He’d had a broken bone once when a horse and cow collided and his leg was sandwiched between. Hurt like the dickens.

He could hear her breathing, the puffs of someone unaccustomed to long hikes on rough terrain. He thought of her girly heeled shoes, her upscale clothes, the bleeding face. She was lying.

The question was, why?

He moved in behind her and took her elbow with one hand and supported her back with the other. She flinched, a motion that made Austin grind his back teeth. But she didn’t pull away, a good thing, because Austin was a stubborn man. If he had to, he’d swoop her over one shoulder and cart her up the rise like a sack of sweet feed. She probably didn’t weigh much more than a hundred-pound sack of oats.

They reached the top of the ridge and she paused for a moment to catch her breath and look around. Not a casual glance at nature’s beauty, but a search. A furtive, wary search.

For what?

Austin’s eyes narrowed. “My horse is this way.”

She spun toward him. “Horse?”

“Look, lady, there are no roads back in here. The nearest ATV trail is three miles and then it’s another two miles to town. You either walk or ride horses.” Or like some high-rollers, you flew over in helicopters. Man, did that ever set his teeth on edge. He scowled. “You didn’t fly in on a helicopter, did you?”

“No.” She hitched her chin. He noticed long red marks on her throat. Funny place to be injured in a fall. “I can walk if you’ll lead the way.”

Stacking fists on hips, Austin rolled his eyes. “Afraid of horses?”

“No.”

“Then why walk when you can ride?”

“But you said...it’s your horse.”

“I don’t know where you come from, lady, but around here a man doesn’t ride while the woman walks. What’s your name anyway?”

She hesitated before saying, “Annalisa.”

No last name. Interesting.

“Fancy name.” But then she was a fancy-looking woman, sleek and well-groomed. Except for the blood and bruises. “I’m Austin Blackwell. You’re on my ranch.” Practically.

She pressed her lips together in an expression of worry. “I’m sorry.”

He glared at her. “For what?”

Her fingers fluttered. Exactly like the pulse above her collarbone. “Trespassing. I should have asked before...uh...hiking.”

Austin pinned her with a look. “Yeah. Hiking.”

It was none of his business if she fell or jumped or was attacked by Sasquatch, just as it was none of his business if she lied. None.

Austin started to sweat.

The last thing he needed was a woman with suspicious injuries.

They approached Cisco who’d found a patch of grass to nibble on. The sooner he got Miss Annalisa mystery woman off this mountain and into someone else’s care, the easier he could breath.

“You know how to mount? One foot in the stirrup. Throw the other over. I’ll give you a boost. You take care of the arm.”

She nodded and with a gritty determination given her condition, stuck a foot in the stirrup and hopped. Austin leaned in to help, a hand beneath her free foot, the other ready to brace her back. The scent of perfume, definitely not the cheap stuff, but mysterious like her, contrasted with the earthy, wetness of the falls. He did his best not to notice, but the fragrance reminded him of something. Something he’d put out of his mind long ago.

He clenched his teeth against the fantasy, hoisted her other foot and put her into the saddle as gently as possible. She was light if leggy, tall enough to reach his stirrups. And he was no small fry.

Annalisa’s face paled with the movement. She bit back a groan. A small one, but he heard it.

“Easy,” he said, feeling like a heartless slug for hurting her. If he wouldn’t have been thinking of her long legs and heady scent, he could have been more careful.

Yeah, and if that sorry calf hadn’t gotten out, he wouldn’t be here in the first place with his sixth sense screaming like a banshee.

Ifs
didn’t mean much in Austin’s vocabulary. If life was as it should be, he’d still be in Texas.

He took Cisco’s reins and tossed them over the saddle horn. In quick, efficient movements he swung into the saddle in front of his guest, taking care not to jar her. Annalisa leaned back, away from contact.

Austin shifted in the saddle to look at her. “Brace your bad arm against my back and give me your other.”

She hesitated, clearly not wanting to touch him. Well, too stinkin’ bad. He didn’t want her falling off.

“One broken arm is enough,” he barked. She flinched, eyes widening.

He grabbed her good hand and slapped it against his rib cage. With a
tsk
and slight tightening of his knees, he set Cisco on an easy walk through the trees.

Behind him, Annalisa was as stiff as new leather.

What was up with this lady?

Chapter Two

A
nnalisa curled her fingers into the rough brown duck of the cowboy’s jacket, lips stiff from trying to stifle the moans of pain. Jostling on the back of a horse wasn’t helping her arm or any of the other places she hurt.

Austin Blackwell frightened her with his dark scowls and sharply barked words, although he didn’t seem the violent type. But neither had James when they’d first started dating.

She darted a quick look around, nerves jittery. The forest was gorgeous, a tapestry of rich color and scent, flush with autumn sun. If she’d not been in pain and wasn’t constantly on the alert for James, she could have enjoyed the ride.

When was the last time she’d been on a horse?

The animal—Cisco, he’d called the bay—had a smooth stride, his muscular body easily handling two passengers. She wasn’t sure where they were headed, but the horse knew.

“Is this the way to the hospital?”

The cowboy tilted his white hat forward as if signaling something up ahead. “We’ll take my truck.”

They crested a rise and then started down an incline into a small valley. In the center of clear pasture land, with no other houses around, sat a long, low ranch-style house and a number of outbuildings. Three dogs bolted from the porch, tails wagging, barking a chorus of excited welcome. There was a black lab, some kind of big shaggy shepherd with white eyebrows and...an apricot poodle?

“Shut up!”

Annalisa tensed at the cowboy’s command. He twisted toward her. “Not you. Them.”

She
knew
that, and yet she’d jumped.

They rode directly to the porch, a structure that ran the length of the red brick house and was railed by rough cedar. A broom leaned against the railing. Someone had planted a big pot of yellow mums next to the door. Annalisa eyed the cowboy. His wife, perhaps?

With the quick, lithe movements she’d noted before, he dismounted and then lifted her easily to the ground. He was big and gruff, but his touch was deceivingly gentle. She’d yet to categorize him other than cowboy. Faded jeans, brown duck jacket and a white hat. And of course, the horse. She had the ridiculous thought that good guys wear white hats. Ridiculous indeed, considering her poor ability to judge men.

Austin Blackwell. Nice name for a cowboy. A pretty big guy with shoulders wide enough to handle a calf, he was around her age. From riding at his back, she knew that he was solid muscle.

She shivered. A big, dangerous man who’d been none too happy about finding her on his land. She slid a subtle glance toward him. He’d started toward the porch, only to be met by the dog trio.

The three groveled around his boots, and the white-browed shepherd bared its teeth in a comical smile of welcome while the poodle pranced on hind legs in a dance of joy. In spite of her throbbing arm, Annalisa smiled, too. Austin dropped a work-gloved hand to the highest head and scratched while the other two butted up against his legs, waiting their turn.

“Truck’s there.” He motioned toward the side of the house to a truck shed. Under an awning sat a white late-model Ford with big wheels flecked with mud. “I’ll grab the keys and we’ll go see the doc.”

He tromped up the steps, taking a minute to stomp his boots on a black welcome mat before disappearing inside.

Panic welled in Annalisa’s throat, a knot she couldn’t swallow. She was suddenly aware of how much the cowboy’s presence eased her anxiety. Now, alone in the open yard, terror rushed in.

Pulse tripping wildly, her breath quickened as she hurried to the white truck and tried the side door. It was unlocked. She clambered inside, slammed the door and slapped at the lock with shaky fingers. Still, her heart raced as wildly as if she’d run all the way from the waterfall.

She leaned her head against the tall seat, shut her eyes and breathed in the scent of new leather from an air freshener dangling from the rearview mirror. “Lord, if you’ll help me find a way out of this mess, I promise—”

The driver’s door opened. Annalisa spun toward the sound. The movement sent shock waves from her shoulder to her wrist. Instinctively she curled inward and grimaced.

“Easy.” The cowboy’s light green gaze steadied her.

Before he could step up into the driver’s seat, the apricot poodle jumped onto the long bench beneath the steering column.

“Get down, you wiggling wad of Brillo.” Face stern, Austin moved to one side and pointed toward the ground. Even though the poodle withered in dejection, her little fuzzy tail worked overtime. The cowboy’s voice gentled. “Go on, Tootsie. Get down. You can’t go this time.”

Resigned, the dog obeyed. On the way out, the “Brillo pad” lifted up on her hind legs to swipe a tongue across Austin’s face. The cowboy grunted, shaking his head as he climbed into the truck. Annalisa was almost sure the corners of his mouth quivered with affection.

Keys rattled and the truck engine roared to life. Austin adjusted the shifter, but as they backed out of the carport, a dark green Nissan whipped into the driveway and stopped. A woman in blue scrubs with a curly black ponytail strode toward Austin’s side of the truck.

Curiosity curled in Annalisa’s belly. Was this the wife?

Austin lowered his window. With a jerk of his chin toward Annalisa he said, “Found this lady at the falls. I’m taking her to see Dr. Ron.”

The woman narrowed moss green eyes at Annalisa. “What happened?”

“I fell.” The lie was easier this time.

“The mountain trails are good for that. Anything I can do?” The last question was for Austin.

“You can cook something.”

“So can you.” The woman laughed, dimples flashing in a longish face. “I was asking if there is anything I can do for her.” She stuck her head through the window, stretching past Austin. “By the way, I’m Cassie. My big brother has no social skills.”

An odd trickle of interest shifted over Annalisa as she introduced herself to Cassie. The sister, not the wife.

“Are you a nurse?”

Teeth flashed as Cassie laughed. “A hairdresser, but I know a bum arm when I see one. You need an X-ray. By the way, you have great hair. I’d love to get my hands on it.”

Annalisa’s fingers flew to the dark blond mass of thick, shoulder-length waves. Inwardly she smirked at the vain reaction. Even an injury didn’t stop a woman from enjoying a compliment. “Thank you.”

Cassie tapped Austin on the shoulder with a fist. “Get going. She’s in a lot of pain.” By now the three dogs were hopping around the sister. “Bring us a pizza. I’m in no mood to cook.”

Austin groaned. “You brought pizza last night.”

“So I like pizza.”

“And hate to cook.”

Cassie picked up the poodle and waved his paw. “Burgers, then. With fries and pies. Apple.”

Austin didn’t argue. He put the gear in Reverse and headed away from the ranch.

“How far?”

“To the doc’s?” He glanced toward her and back to the bumpy gravel road. “About ten minutes.”

With an acknowledging nod, Annalisa braced her arm against her chest, leaned back against the headrest and prayed that James had gone on without her.

* * *

Austin whipped the truck into the parking spot marked “Physicians Only” and killed the motor in front of Johnson’s Medical Clinic. Dr. Ron Johnson’s maroon Jeep was in the lot and he was the only physician for twenty-five miles. Austin figured the two extra physician parking spots outside the office were wishful thinking on the part of the overzealous town council.

The town was like that these days, optimistic in the face of a lousy economy. Mayor Fairchild, whom everyone called Rusty, had asked the churches to pray, a request that had a handful of folks up in arms over the separation of church and state issue. Austin figured praying didn’t hurt anything. It just didn’t help.

He hustled around the truck to open the door for Annalisa, something she was already struggling to do on her own. He helped her out and led the way up on the sidewalk and into the small, modern clinic. Inside, the usual scent of antiseptic cooled the air.

At the receptionist’s window, Austin jerked a thumb toward Annalisa. “Got an injured woman here. Dr. Ron available?”

“I’ll tell him, Austin. You all sit down and fill out this mess of papers.” She stuck a clipboard across the divider. “I’ll only be a jiff.”

“Thanks, Wilma.”

Austin handed the clipboard to Annalisa along with a pen, but his restlessness wouldn’t let him sit in one of the brown vinyl chairs. Coming into town was not a favorite activity, and usually when he did, he kept to the basics—the Farm and Ranch Store, groceries, gas. An injured woman raised suspicions, and he did not want anyone asking questions.

True to her word, the bun-haired Wilma returned in a jiff to motion them toward an exam room. Dr. Ron waited inside, drying his hands on paper towels. Close to forty, the doc looked half that because of his boyish freckles and the cowlick torturing his sandy hair. He tossed the towels in a levered can and gestured to the exam table.

“Who’s sick?” One quick look at Annalisa and then the chart Wilma poked at him and he said, “Never mind. What happened?”

Annalisa cast a troubled glance at Austin. “I fell.”

Austin saw the worry hanging on her like a baggy shirt. She knew he didn’t believe her story and probably wanted him gone. Which he should be. Feeling a little chagrined to have followed a stranger into an exam room in the first place, he said, “I’ll wait outside, but I want to talk to the doc when you’re done.”

Dr. Ron met his gaze and nodded. “Sure thing. Now young lady, you hop right up here and let’s have a look at that arm.”

Austin heard the latter as he exited the room. There was a lot Annalisa wasn’t saying. Even though it was none of his business, Austin figured the doc should know his suspicions.

He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the wall beside the door. Wilma whipped past, leading the way for a woman and a flush-faced, coughing child. Austin figured if a man stood here all day he’d catch every disease known to medicine.

A few minutes later, the wooden door swung open and Dr. Ron sent Annalisa down the hall with an assistant for an X-ray. Austin joined the doctor inside the exam room and shut the door.

“I think she’s lying,” he blurted.

Water sprayed as Dr. Ron washed his hands yet again in the strong-scented soap. “How did you get involved?”

Austin’s gut tightened. Was the doc accusing him of something? “I found her.”

A freckled eyebrow lifted. “You don’t know her? She’s not a friend or relative?”

Anxiety pushed from Austin’s gut to his throat. When he’d brought her here, he hadn’t been thinking clearly. He’d never considered that someone might point a finger at him. He rolled the brim of his hat between nervous fingers. “Never saw her before today. She was at Whisper Falls. Or rather under it.”

“Praying?” The doc’s lips twitched, but the humor didn’t reach his serious blue eyes.

“Probably. She was running from something or someone. She claims she was hiking, but I don’t believe her. Take a look at her shoes and clothes.”

“Could she have fallen while traipsing over the falls to pray?”

Austin barked a sarcastic laugh. “Did you notice the red marks on her throat?”

The doc raised both eyebrows in insult. The cowlick quivered. “If I hadn’t I should find another occupation.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

Dr. Ron spread his palms. “Nothing I can do. She’s a grown woman, not a child. If she says she fell, I have to take her word for it. She might be telling the truth, although like you, I don’t think the bruises came from a tumble on the rocks. The broken arm, however, very well may have.”

“Maybe.” Austin patted his hat impatiently against his leg. Dr. Ron was a good sort. He’d treated Austin when a horse stumbled with him, and he’d stitched him up a couple of times. He was trustworthy. “She’s scared of something, Doc. Jumpy as a grasshopper. I think someone hurts her.”

Dr. Ron pressed his freckled lips together in silent consideration before saying, “I’ll push a little harder for details, Austin, but if she wants to keep the whole truth to herself, I can’t force it out of her.”

At that moment, Wilma and Annalisa came out of the X-ray room and headed toward them.

Knowing the doc was right didn’t make Austin like the answer any better. Grumbling under his breath, he slapped his hat against his leg. “I’ll be in the waiting room.”

* * *

Annalisa sat perfectly still while the doctor wound wet cast material from her wrist to her biceps.

“Wear this for three weeks and then you get the grand prize,” the amiable doctor said, “a shorter waterproof version of this dandy little number.”

She stared dubiously at her forearm, frozen at a right angle. “When will I be able to move my elbow?”

“After this one comes off. Fortunately all the bones are aligned or you’d be on your way to Hot Springs to an orthopedist. All we have to do is keep the bone as still as possible for it to heal properly, and you should be as good as new.”

She shuddered at the memory of James’s strong hands and the loud pop as he intentionally rotated her arm until she screamed. The gleam in his eyes, the bulging veins in his neck. The fury.

She squeezed her eyes tight, scared just thinking about him.
God, I never want to see James Winchell again. Show me what to do.

Dr. Ron’s gentle voice jerked her to attention. “I’m a doctor, Miss Keller. Anything you tell me is confidential. If you need help...”

He let the offer dangle while he completed the wrap and pressed his palms against the drying cast. Heat penetrated through the padding.

The doctor knew she hadn’t fallen, or at least he suspected.

She wanted to tell someone about the abuse, but shame held her back. Shame and the knowledge that she was responsible. She’d broken off the relationship once and been foolish enough to let James back into her life. She’d believed his promises and accepted his explanations. He was under stress at work. She’d provoked him. It wouldn’t happen again.

But it had.

Annalisa lowered her lashes. “Thank you, but I’ll be fine.”

Dr. Ron was silent for a couple of beats while he scribbled on her chart.