Taming the Lone Wolf (2 page)

Maybe she would have made it if the sidewalk hadn't been covered with a fresh dusting of snow that concealed the treacherous ice below. Or if she had been wearing a decent pair of snow boots instead of the cheap, leather-soled shoes she wore for work. Tess hadn't taken three steps when her feet skidded out from under her. She flailed her arms in a vain attempt to catch her balance and reached out with a hand to break her fall on the cement walk. It turned out to be a fatal error.

Tess heard the bone in her wrist crack as soon as
her weight came down on her arm. She cried out in agony as her body settled on the cold, hard ground.

The interfering stranger was beside her a moment later, down on one knee, his dark brown eyes filled with concern.

“Now look what you did!” she accused.

“What I did?”

“If you hadn't been chasing me—”

“I wasn't chasing you. I was coming after you to—”

“This is all your fault!” she cried, hysterical with the realization that with a broken wrist she wouldn't be able to work for weeks. Not to mention the fact that she had no health insurance and no idea how she was going to pay a doctor to fix her up.

The tears she had so ably kept under control through her most recent disaster could no longer be contained. She fought the sob that threatened, but it broke free with a horrible wrenching sound. Then she was crying in earnest.

She felt the stranger pick her up, being very careful of her wrist, which he settled in her lap, and stand, cuddling her against his chest.

“It's all right, Tess. You're going to be fine. I'm going to take care of you.”

She should have resisted. She should have told him in no uncertain terms that she could take very good care of herself. Instead she turned her face to his chest and surrendered to his strength, thinking how good it felt to give her burdens over to someone else, even if it was only for a few moments.

“I'm taking you to my Jeep,” he explained as he
began walking. “I'll drive you to the hospital, where someone will take care of your arm.”

“I don't have money to pay the doctor,” she mumbled against his coat.

“Don't worry. I'll take care of it.”

They were such wonderful words. She had been in charge of so much lately, and the burdens had been so heavy. She was more than willing to hand everything over to someone else for a while.

“What's going on here?”

It was Harry. Harry must have seen what happened from the picture window in his office.

“She fell and broke her wrist,” the man said. “I'm taking her to the hospital.”

“Tess?” Harry said. “Do you want Stony to take you to the hospital?”

Stony. So that was his name. And Harry knew him, so maybe he wasn't a madman, after all.

It took too much energy to answer, or even to turn around and look at Harry. She nodded.

“All right, Stony,” Harry said. “I'll follow you there.”

“I can take care of it,” Stony said, his voice rumbly against her ear.

“I said I'd follow you,” Harry insisted. “My patrol car is parked down the street.”

Stony didn't argue; he merely turned and headed for his Jeep.

Tess was feeling drowsy, which wasn't surprising, considering the amount of sleep she had gotten last night. She had also hit the back of her head against the pavement when she fell, but it was only beginning
to hurt because all her attention had been focused on her throbbing wrist.

“Stony?” she murmured.

“What, Tess?”

“My head hurts.”

“You must have hit it when you fell. I'll have the doctor check it out.”

“Tess?” Harry said.

Answering took too much effort.

“Looks like she fainted,” Harry said, hop-skipping on the dangerous surface to keep up with Stony's long stride.

“Knocked out by the fall, I think,” Stony replied.

“I only closed my eyes,” she mumbled. “I'm still awake.”

“I'll be right behind you,” Harry said, sprinting—insofar as that was possible considering the icy walks—for the police car parked nearby.

Stony set her in his Jeep and buckled her in. She heard the engine rumble, and things got a little hazy. Behind her closed eyelids she was seeing a picture of the tall, lean, broad-shouldered man who had come to her rescue in the café, his dark brows lowered, his eyes feral and dangerous. And the man who had looked down at her as she lay hurt on the ground, concern etched in his granite features.

His face was weatherworn, with deep brackets around his mouth and a mesh of crow's feet around his eyes that evidenced a life lived out-of-doors. His straight black hair needed a cut. It hung at least an inch onto his collar, and a hank of it was forever falling onto his forehead.

When he looked at her, his dark brown eyes held her in thrall. They were lonely eyes. Or, at least, the eyes of a man used to being alone. They offered sympathy. They asked for nothing in return.

She had seen him in the café before, but not regularly, so he lived around here somewhere, but maybe not right in town. There were lots of cabins along the river in this isolated place where a lone wolf could find solace from the world of men.

She wondered what he did for a living. Judging by his Western shirt, jeans and boots, he could have been another cowboy. But a mere cowboy wouldn't have taken on Bud, who was big enough, and meaty-fisted enough, to be downright intimidating. Stony hadn't blinked an eye at confronting him. So he was probably a man used to being in charge, rather than one who took orders, a man who knew his own strength and used it when necessary.

But he wasn't a cruel man, or he really might have hurt Bud. She had seen how angry he was, but he had kept his rage on a tight leash. He was agile and strong and—

Stony jostled her broken wrist when he picked her up to take her inside the hospital, and the brief agony jolted her awake. But she couldn't seem to get her eyes open. Tears of pain seeped from her closed eyelids.

“Sorry, Tess,” Stony said. “Hang on, and the doctor can give you something for the pain.”

Tess drifted in and out of consciousness, aware of the murmur of voices, the sting of an injection, the buzz of the X-ray machine, the warm wetness of the
cast being applied around her thumb, from the middle of her right hand halfway up her arm.

She heard the word “concussion” and realized that was probably why she felt so woozy. So it wasn't only the lack of sleep that made her feel so impossibly tired. She heard the doctor say she would have to stay overnight so she could be watched. But she couldn't stay, because she had to go pick up Rose from Mrs. Feeny.

“No,” she muttered. “Can't stay. Have to go home.”

“Be reasonable, Tess,” Harry said. “You're in no condition to leave the hospital.”

“Have to get Rose.”

“Who's Rose?” she heard Stony ask.

“That's her daughter,” Harry said.

“She has a daughter?”

The shock in Stony's voice made her smile. She wasn't sure if the expression got to her face.

“An elderly lady keeps the little girl for Tess while she works. Mrs. Feeny, I think,” Harry explained.

Mrs. Feeny was very strict about Tess picking up Rose on time. Otherwise the old woman charged her triple. With all the extra she was going to have to dole out for the doctor, she needed every penny she had.

“Have to pick up Rose.” She tried to get up, but a palm flattened her.

“I'll do it,” Stony said.

“The kid doesn't know who you are,” Harry said. “I'll do it.”

“I said I'll do it,” Stony countered. “After all, this is my fault.”

Tess wanted to smile again. Stony sure had changed his tune. Maybe he was feeling guilty. He ought to. This
was
all his fault!

She welcomed Stony's offer to pick up Rose. For some reason, Rose had taken an instant aversion to Harry. Her daughter had a way of making her feelings known. Tess licked her dry lips and said, “Okay, Stony. Pick up Rose.”

“Tess, you don't know a thing about the man,” Harry said. “He—”

“Don't interfere, Harry,” Tess murmured.

“You heard the lady, Sheriff. She can make her own decisions without any help from you.”

Tess realized she hadn't told Stony what to do with her daughter. “Take Rose home,” she added.

“I'll do that,” Stony said. “Don't worry, Tess. She'll be safe with me. I have lots of room at my place.”

His place?

She had meant take Rose to her own home. Of course, he didn't have the key, and Mrs. Feeny, who was also Tess's landlady, was hardly likely to let a stranger into an upstairs apartment in her own home. So maybe it was better this way. Only, she had no idea where Stony lived. How would she find him when she wanted to reclaim her daughter?

She managed to force her eyes open a crack and sought out Stony's face. “Take me, too,” she said. “Rose needs me.”

“For heaven's sake, Tess,” Harry said irritably.
“You're in no condition to do anything but lie flat on your back in bed. Stay here in the hospital where you belong.”

The situation was desperate. She reached out and grasped Stony's hand. It was big and warm and callused. His strength made her feel safe. “Rose needs me,” she repeated. “Take me, too.”

“All right,” he said. “I'll take you both to my place.”

“Promise?”

“I said I would.”

He didn't sound too happy about the situation, Tess realized. But she wasn't about to let him out of his promise.

“Thank you.” Her eyes sank closed again.

If she could rest for a couple of hours, she would be fine. Stony could pick up Rose and come back for her. She would rescue her daughter from the clutches of the interfering stranger...as soon as she could get her eyes open again.

“W
HERE AM
I?”

“You're at my place, a cabin along the river about twenty miles from town. Don't you remember the ride here in my Jeep?”

“I...sort of. It's all kind of fuzzy.”

Tess's gaze darted from the male face bathed in shadows beside the bed, to the natural pine log walls, to the wedding ring patterned quilt that covered her, and back to the face made even more attractive by a night's growth of beard. The faint mauve light filling the window across the room suggested it was nearly dawn. The snow had stopped, but it weighted down the branches of the Douglas firs outside the cabin, creating a real-life picture postcard.

She reached for her head with her right hand before a sharp pain and the weight of the cast reminded her that her wrist was broken. She switched to the left and gingerly touched the lump on the back of her head.

“Does it still hurt?” Stony asked.

“My scalp's a little tender, but my head doesn't ache like it did.” She realized what was missing and sat up with a jerk that made her dizzy. “Where's Rose?”

“Still asleep.”

“Where?” she insisted, reaching out to clutch Stony's forearm. It was as hard as a rock. She realized what she was doing and let him go.

He gestured with his chin. “Right there beside you.”

Tess realized why she hadn't seen the child. The bed was huge, and Rose was curled up in a pile of sheets and blankets on the other side. Tess took another look around at the heavy pine chest, the rocker with clothes thrown over the back, the man's wardrobe, and realized she must be in Stony's bedroom.

“I thought you said you had plenty of room,” she accused. “Rose and I are in your bed, aren't we?”

“It was the only one in the house big enough for the both of you,” he admitted with a crooked smile. “Rose refused to sleep by herself.”

Tess turned back to her daughter and leaned over to brush a red curl from her daughter's cheek. “Did she give you a lot of trouble?”

“No more than two or three green-broke broncs.”

“Oh, dear. I was a little afraid of that.”

“We got along fine, once she figured out I wasn't going to give up or give in.”

Tess flushed. “She is rather strong-willed. I suppose I let her have her own way too often.”

“She's spoiled rotten,” Stony said flatly. “And she has a temper.”

Tess opened her mouth to defend her mothering tactics, then realized Stony hadn't been completely successful in controlling her daughter, either. After all, Rose had ended up sleeping in the same bed with her.

“Perhaps she is a little spoiled,” Tess conceded, brushing at the stubborn curl that had found its way back to Rose's cheek. “But she's had to cope with an awful lot over the past year.”

Stony shifted from the chair beside the bed to a spot on the mattress near her hips. Tess tensed at the intrusion on her space. However helpful he had been, Stony was still a stranger. And she was in his bed wearing no more than—Good Lord—one of his T-shirts!

“I've been wanting to talk to you about that. I mean, about how you and Rose have been getting by,” Stony said.

His voice had that rusty gate sound, as though he hadn't used it much lately. It rumbled over her, sending a shiver up her spine. She wasn't sure whether it was the threat he presented, or the temptation, that had her inching away from him.

“We've been just fine,” Tess said.

“Don't bother lying.”

“I—”

“I spoke with your landlady.”

Tess sighed. “I'm only a month behind on the rent.”

“You had to give up your phone two months ago. And I didn't see much in the cupboards to eat. How the hell you two have managed to make it this far, I'll never know.”

Tess felt the anger rising and struggled to control it. Rose hadn't learned her redheaded temper; she had inherited it from her mother.

“I'd like to know what your plans are now that you've been fired,” Stony said.