“I think your temperature is going down, but I’ll get a thermometer just to make sure. Be back in a jiffy.” She shut the door behind her.
When she returned, she held a tray with a glass of iced tea and a bottle of aspirin. She brushed his forehead with her soft palm again. “I couldn’t find the thermometer, but I think you’re better. A lukewarm shower would do you a lot of good.”
His temperature shot straight back up when she touched him.
“I still think you need a doctor,” she said.
“It’s not as bad as it looks.”
She handed him a washcloth and turned to the food on the dresser.
He took the cloth from her, glancing to see if she wore a wedding ring. She didn’t. A bare ring finger didn’t mean anything though. “Thanks again. For everything. You didn’t mention your last name.”
She hesitated. “Does it matter?”
“Just curious.” He hoped he sounded casual. “You saved my life after all. I’d like to know whom I’m in debt to.”
She turned toward him and lifted her chin defiantly. “My name is Castaña Castillo.”
Martin’s sister?
Jake hoped his amazement didn’t show. Was she as radical as her brother? If so, she most likely would’ve run him over in the road instead of picking him up and taking him home like a stray animal. If she knew he was here to find and arrest Martin for the murder of two BLM agents, she’d probably throw him out on his sunburned ear.
“You haven’t told me your last name either,” she reminded him.
He spit out the first name that came to mind. “Brown.”
Did disbelief flicker in her eyes? “Nice to meet you, Jake Brown. So, you were camping?”
“Yeah, for a few days. I went fishing, and when I came back, my camp had been trashed
and my truck tires slashed.”
“That’s terrible.” Something unreadable flashed across her face and he studied her, trying to figure her out. She had helped him. How close was she to her brother’s activities? Close enough to cover up a double homicide?
“Yeah, who would’ve thought I’d get mugged in the forest,” he said. “I need to get hold of Triple A and have them get my truck.” How the hell was he going to accomplish his arrest? Call his boss in Phoenix and tell him he’d screwed up again? Send a posse. Jake Breton was incapable of accomplishing the easiest task. This was his only chance to redeem himself, and he’d already messed up.
“You’re in no condition to travel tonight. I’ll take you into town in the morning because I need to see the sheriff myself.” She studied him for a minute. “I don’t think you’re going to try anything. But, just so you know, there’s no silver to steal. And I’m not alone. Mar — my brother’s girlfriend is here.”
Jake put a big spoonful of cold watermelon into his mouth to hide his surprise. Martin’s girlfriend? Why hadn’t he realized there might be a woman in Castillo’s life? Had the sun addled his brain? In all the reports he’d read there was very little mention of the Castillo women. Apparently, the women hadn’t joined in the family crimes. Was the sister a good enough actress she didn’t know her brother was wanted for shooting two BLM men? Or that when the local sheriff came to take Martin in for questioning, he went missing? “So, where’s your brother?”
“Not a clue.” Her full lips trembled and she pinched them together. Jake’s cynical heart softened a fraction as he watched her obvious distress. “Someone — his girlfriend, I think — called and said Martin’s horses were going hungry. There’s no way he’d neglect his animals. He loves them more than anything. So I came running.”
“What does this girlfriend say?”
She frowned. “I don’t know. I can’t get anything out of her.”
Jake set down his spoon, appetite gone. His free hand went to his shoulder like a ship to a beacon. She sounded so sincere Jake wanted to believe her. But he’d been fooled before. A pretty face and big, soft eyes could go a long ways toward tricking a man.
He’d not make the mistake of trusting too easily ever again.
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