*
RANDALL HAD DECIDED that Merrie’s accident wasn’t the sort of thing he could tell Ren about over the phone, so he detoured through Catelow, Wyoming, on his way to Denver to see another client.
Ren was at the supper table when he arrived. He looked up from the mashed potatoes Delsey was plopping on his plate. They both stared at him.
“You’re supposed to be in Denver,” Ren commented. His brows drew together. “Has something happened to your...our mother?” he amended.
Randall took a breath. “No. We still haven’t heard anything from the biopsy.”
Ren relaxed. “Oh. Well, have a seat. Delsey made pot roast and mashed potatoes.”
“My favorite.” Randall kissed her on the cheek. “You sweetheart!”
“You flatterer.” She laughed, moving back into the kitchen to bring coffee.
Randall pulled up a chair and sat down. Ren looked bad. His eyes were bloodshot, and there were purple half-moons under his black eyes.
“You don’t look as if you’ve slept in days,” Randall remarked.
“I haven’t.” He glanced at Randall with faint irritation. “You might have told me that she wasn’t one of your lovers.”
Randall sighed. “I was trying to protect her,” he said quietly. “She’s the most innocent human being I ever knew. I was afraid if I didn’t say she was my girl, you might...well.” He shrugged. “Paul said she went back to Comanche Wells because she used her credit card in Catelow and the killer traced it here.”
Ren ate a forkful of roast without tasting it. “He came to get her. You never said she was an heiress, either. I thought she was poor.”
“You should see Graylings. That’s where she and Sari and Paul live. The stables are the talk of Texas. They breed racehorses.”
“Paul told me.” He’d avoided it as long as he could. “Did you see her? Did you tell her what I asked you to?”
“I couldn’t talk to her,” he replied. It was harder than he’d dreamed it would be.
“Why not?”
Delsey came in with the coffeepot. She set it down. “How’s our Merrie?” she asked.
Randall took a deep breath. “They’d just taken her out of surgery when I got there...! Ren!”
Ren had jumped out of his chair and taken him by both shoulders, almost crushing them in his fear. “Surgery? What happened? Is she going to be all right?”
He and Delsey were both hanging on Randall’s every word.
“Apparently there were two would-be killers,” Randall said, wincing when Ren belatedly loosened his grip. “The one in Texas aimed a pickup truck broadside at the limo that was driven by an accomplice. Paul had checked out the driver, but the source had been paid off.”
“Killers? After our Merrie?” Delsey exclaimed, sitting down. This was all news to her, since no one had told her the truth.
“Oh my God,” Ren said huskily. “My God!”
“They’re looking for him,” Randall said. “The driver was found dead in a ditch just after Merrie was taken to the hospital. They think he may have been paid off. They haven’t turned up the driver of the pickup yet.”
“My God.” Ren’s mind was whirling. “What have I done?” he groaned.
Randall didn’t know what to say. Apologies seemed useless.
“You’ll have to stay here and manage things,” Ren said, getting to his feet. “Let Denver slide.”
“Where are you going?” Delsey asked.
“To Texas,” Ren said, and kept walking.
CHAPTER TWELVE
MERRIE WAS IN ICU when Dr. Coltrain went in to check on her. He didn’t like her vitals. Her blood pressure was dropping, and she wasn’t waking up. He knew that she’d awakened long enough to talk to her sister earlier, but she was backsliding. He didn’t know why.
He was really worried. He knew they’d repaired every possible trauma. But even in best-case scenarios, people sometimes died. He didn’t want to lose Merrie.
Sari almost went mad when Coltrain came out to talk to them and told her what was happening.
“It’s going to be all right,” he assured her with more conviction than he felt. “I’ve had her moved into ICU. We’ll keep her there for a day or so.”
Sari looked at him with shiny blue eyes, trying to focus on his face. The migraine was better, but she was sick at her stomach.
“I wish you’d go home, honey,” Paul said gently, curling her into his broad chest.
“I can’t,” she sobbed. “You know I can’t.”
“I’ll contact you the minute there’s any change,” Coltrain said gently.
“Thanks,” Paul said.
He turned his attention back to Sari as the doctor strode away.
“You have to have faith,” he whispered in her ear. “Don’t give up on her now.”
Her nails dug into his back. “I’m so scared!”
“Yeah.” He held her closer. “Me, too.”
*
AS THEY SPOKE, a tall man in a shepherd’s coat, wearing designer jeans and hand-tooled leather boots, with a Stetson pulled low over his eyes, approached the nurses’ desk.
“Meredith Grayling,” he said stiffly. “I was told she was a patient here.”