Saved by the Rancher

chapter Five


JENNA WANTED TO get cleaned up before she slept for the next two days. She dug out her silk robe and toiletries from her emergency suitcase by the stairs. She grabbed her camera bag and headed for the bathroom, making sure both the back and front doors were locked. She curbed her obsessive need to check the locks again. Sally settled in front of the fire, watching Jenna move around the cabin.

Happy the bathroom was on the first floor, she stepped inside the lovely room. It boasted a spacious tub and separate shower. The thick towels were navy blue. A turquoise rug brightened the slate gray floor. Her favorite part, a large window made of frosted glass blocks and the skylight above the tub. At night, she could watch the stars while she soaked in the bath. Jack sure had great taste. Simple. Nice.

She stripped off the clothes she’d been wearing for four days. She should burn them. Frantic, she hadn’t stopped unless absolutely necessary. She took off the white gauze pad and tape she’d hastily used to cover the gash down her thigh. She should’ve taken better care of it by now. At least cleaned and closed it with some butterfly bandages and put some antibiotic ointment on it. Instead she’d left it open and caked in dried blood. But when things like this happened and the panic set in, she forgot everything, except escape—run far and fast.

Of course, he’d never hurt her this badly.

The cut flared an angry red, infected. It stung and throbbed when she touched it. She needed to put medicine on it and try to close the wound. For now, she piled everything on the tile floor and stepped into the shower. She adjusted the spray to lukewarm, so as not to burn the raw abrasions and welts on her back. She avoided looking down as the water, red with blood from her back and thigh, ran down the drain and disappeared. She took the clip out of her hair and let it fall down to the middle of her back. Even that hurt. She washed her hair, her arms and legs heavy as lead weights.

Out of the shower, she gingerly dried herself. The shower boosted her spirits. She felt better being clean, but her whole body shook with fatigue and weariness as the fever intensified. She needed to lie down before she fell down.

First, she took care of business. She pulled the camera out of the bag, and using the full-length mirror on the wall by the tub and the flip around screen, she snapped a photo of the front of herself. The photo would show the bruise on her jaw, the cut on her head, and all the bruises on her ribcage. Then she turned around. She moved her wet hair over her right shoulder, placed the camera on her left shoulder, and snapped a picture of her back. Unenthused, she checked both pictures and ensured the date stamp and time were correct. She would email the photos to Ben, once she got a new computer. One of these days, the authorities would make good on her complaints and restraining order requests and they would arrest him. She held on to hope, even though it was like trying to catch fog.

She wrapped a towel over her hair and put on her robe. She grabbed the camera and shuffled out toward the fire, carelessly tossing it on the coffee table.

She grabbed the slate blue blanket draped over the back of the couch and a couple of the large pillows, moving mindlessly, like the walking dead. She laid the pillows on the floor in front of the fire and lay down on her stomach bringing the blanket over her legs. Asleep as soon as her head hit the pillows. She hardly registered the feel of Sally curling up next to her, guarding her while she slept. Oblivion was sometimes necessary for survival.



SUMMER TURNER KNOCKED, no pounded, on the door for at least five minutes. The woman slept on her stomach by the fire, never moving or acknowledging the loud thuds.

“Well, damn. Jack said to come and check on her and give her a haircut. The least she could do is answer the door.” She pounded on the wood again. Nothing.

“That’s it. I’m calling Jack.”

She dug out her cell phone and dialed her brother. “Jack, I’m at the cabin. I see the woman, but she won’t wake up and answer the door.”

“What do you mean she won’t wake up?”

“Like I said, she’s asleep by the fire. She’s got a towel on her hair, and she’s wearing a really pretty white robe with red roses on the back. I’ve been knocking for five minutes. She won’t wake up and the place is locked up tight. Sally is curled up next to her watching me out here like I’m crazy.”

“I’m on my way over. I have the spare key. Keep an eye on her.”

“Like she’s going anywhere. She’s not even moving.”

Jack hung up and hauled ass out of the barn to his truck. He sped down the driveway, hoping Jenna was all right and knowing in his gut something was terribly wrong. He shouldn’t have left her. He should have taken her to the damn hospital, even if he had to drag her by that hair she was so concerned about getting cut.

The trip took only a couple minutes, but Jack worked himself into a panic. He flashed back to days in the field, soldiers bloody and dying as he tried to help. Stomping down the military memories and trying to stay focused in the here and now, he launched himself up the stairs toward his waiting sister. Smart, she stood back as he barreled for the entrance. He unlocked the door and crossed to Jenna in a few long strides. They weren’t red roses on the robe like his sister described, but blood. Fresh blood. His sister came in and kneeled by Jenna’s head and unwrapped the towel from her hair. It spilled over the pillow, flashing red in the firelight. Summer ran her fingers through the wet strands and pushed them away from Jenna’s bruised face.

“Jack, what the hell is this? She’s bleeding and it looks like someone took hedge clippers to her hair. No wonder she wanted a haircut. Who did this to her?”

“I don’t know. She showed up today. Ben rented the place for her a few months back. Never said when she was coming, just paid for a year and asked me to keep the place ready for her.”

“She needs an ambulance. She’s so pale. Her skin is hot and slick. It’s not because of the fire, either. She’s sick.”

Something inside him warned not to do the obvious thing, but protect Jenna. “I’m calling Ben.” He stood to dial his phone and spotted the digital camera on the table. He picked it up, hit the power button, and swore vividly. He’d known her clothes hid something, but never expected anything as bad as what the photos revealed.

“Ben, what the hell is going on? It’s Jack. Jenna showed up today out of the blue. She’s unconscious on the floor, bleeding.”

“What? She told me she’d be okay. She said . . .” Ben’s voice trailed off.

“She took pictures of herself. She’s got slash marks across her entire backside and a cut about a foot long on her thigh. Nearly every inch of her is covered in bruises. Now, tell me who she is and what happened to her.”

Jack vibrated with anger and concern for this poor woman. Summer pulled the blanket off Jenna’s legs. She accidentally bumped the cut and Jenna moaned with pain. Jack’s stomach turned. Summer stroked Jenna’s hair and whispered, “You’re okay. We won’t hurt you. We’ll take care of you.” Jack’s throat closed up with emotion.

“She took the photos for me. I’ll put them in the book with the others.”

Jack interrupted and spoke very slowly and deliberately. “What do you mean the others? How many times has this happened?”

Ben’s heavy sigh whooshed into the phone. Jack felt his frustration. Jenna moaned again, and he died a little inside.

“Once is too many,” Ben expressed, a weary sigh to his voice.

Jack agreed with the sentiment.

“Never this bad, according to what you and Jenna have told me about what happened. But still . . . I don’t know how she survives.

“I don’t even know what she really looks like. I’ve never seen her in person. I’ve seen pictures of her, but my mind always goes to the images of her bruised and bloody. The photos she sends to me, I try not to look too close. It’s so damn hard to see her . . . to know . . . Will she be all right?”

Summer managed to get the robe off Jenna without disturbing any more of the wounds. She used the bandages Jenna bought to clean some of the injuries and stop the bleeding. He saw all the damage now and it made him ill. He kneeled down next to Jenna and placed a hand on her calf next to one of the many old scars marring her body. Her skin burned with fever beneath his palm. Still, that something extra that flared between them shot up his arm and danced across all his nerves.

“Ben, she needs to go to the hospital. She refused my offer before, but now it’s not an option. She has a fever and her leg needs stitches. It’s infected.”

“No. You can’t do that. If he finds out she went to the hospital . . . He’ll kill her next time. I know he’ll kill her.”

“Who? Who is doing this to her, and how would he find out if she went to the hospital?”

“Her ex-husband. I can’t explain it all now, but he’d find out. Either that or the police will discover who she is, and the media will report she’s there in Hidden Springs. Then he’d surely know where to find her. Please, Jack. You’re trained in combat emergency medical care. You can stitch her up, get her well again.”

“I can, yes, but she needs a hospital.”

“She needs you. That’s why I sent her to you. Please, Jack, as a favor to me, help her. Protect her. She won’t let me. Hell, she won’t let anyone near her. You’re my last hope that she’ll survive.”

Jack wanted to dump her at the hospital, let them care for her, and not think about her ever again. Stick to his safe, normal life on the ranch. After he left the military, he swore he’d never hold another person’s life in his hands. He’d never lose another friend.

He didn’t want to let her into his life. Shit. Too late. She was already living on his property. He’d been the one to bring her here, even after he saw the bruises at the diner and knew what they meant. Steeling himself against that, he answered resignedly, “Fine. I’ll take care of her. I’ll call you later, and you’ll tell me the whole story.”

He shoved the phone back into his pocket and gave himself over to the new feelings resonating within him. He couldn’t give her over to anyone else and pretend he’d never seen her. He’d never forget her. Hell, the truth was he couldn’t not help her. She needed him. And, damnit all to hell, he felt something for her. He hadn’t felt anything in a long time. And he resented her for making him feel. Why her? Now? She moaned in pain. Giving himself over to fate, he’d do everything possible to help her and make her well. He’d make sure no one ever did this to her again.