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.Love the way you’re fighting like a hellcat to do what’s best for a little girl who was a total stranger to you.When I get up every morning, it’s all I can do not to jump into my truck and drive three-hundred-plus miles for the chance of getting a single glimpse of you.For a chance for a single word, I’d drive to hell itself—and back.”“Here’s a word for you—restraining order.Because you’re sounding more like a stalker than a rancher right now.”He tipped his hat back, pointing out, “That’s two words, Jessie, and I’m no stalker.I’m just obsessed with you.”She rolled her eyes, trying to pretend he hadn’t become a fixture in her own dreams, coaxing and caressing until he took her to the very edge, where she was invariably left hanging.“Tell it to the judge, cowboy.Now, I need to get to the store.Want to move your truck, or do I have to—”“Please, Jessie,” he said.“Just lunch.That’s all I ask.”She looked up into his face, wanting so badly to invite him inside, wanting to press her lips to his again, to pull him closer—so close.But the wave of need that struck churned her feelings over, leaving her so guilty and conflicted she couldn’t allow herself to give in.Instead, she shook her head, not trusting herself to speak for the painful lump in her throat.He set his jaw and nodded, regret etching deep lines in his forehead.“I see it in your eyes.I’m hurting you, too, coming here.Hurting all of us.So I’ll tell you what.I won’t be back again.I won’t try to follow you to your new place, either, or even call or email.Just know that I’ll be waiting for you, waiting for the family of my heart to join me back in Rusted Spur.”Don’t waste your life waiting, she wanted desperately to tell him, but the best that she could do was nod.Pulling his keys from his pocket, he started to turn toward the truck’s door, and froze a moment, staring past her shoulder.Staring at something farther down the quiet residential street.She heard the approaching engine and got a single glimpse a split second before he shouted, “Jessie!” Reaching out to grab her, he slung her down to the hard concrete.She heard the shots an instant later, a feeling of déjà vu rising in her throat like bile as she rolled over.Rolled over to see Zach lying just behind her, streams of blood pouring down the driveway, running toward the gutter.Blood from the body he had used to shield her own.Chapter 20Every time he opened his eyes, Zach saw Jessie, waiting.Standing by the window of the hospital room or sitting by his bedside, her face a mask of anxiety.As much pain as he was in, he wanted to tell her not to worry.Wanted to assure her he was too tough to let a couple of bullets keep him from her.Speaking, however, was an issue, partly because it sent pain shooting from his injured neck and shoulder and partly because of the morphine he’d been given to float him past the worst hours.Or days, most likely, maybe even longer, he thought as he remembered the glimpses he’d had of his mother.Eden, too, once, shoving a picture his way that had dusted his bandages with sparkles.But Jessie was the one constant, his touchstone with a world he was struggling to fight his way back into.Cool and shaky, her fingers slid along the stubble of his cheek and she repeated the words he’d seen her mouth form at least a dozen times before.Only this time, he understood her.“I’m so sorry, Zach.So sorry.This is all my fault.”He tried to shake his head, then gritted his teeth at the pain.But he fought past the blackness threatening to overwhelm him, fought to form words.“Not.Not your fault.”“You—you’re speaking.” She sighed, relief easing the strain on her face.“Thank God.Thank God.Would you like— Could you drink some water? Your throat might still be sore, but—”He nodded, abruptly aware that his mouth was dry as sand.When she brought the straw to his lips, he had never tasted anything sweeter or more refreshing.But sore was a long way from how he’d describe the tearing agony of swallowing that first mouthful.He choked, which made things worse, but Jessie adjusted the bed’s elevation, and he did better after that.After only a few more sips, she took the cup away.When he reached for it again, she grasped his hand and shook her head.“Not too much, too fast.Okay?” she said.“If you keep it down, the nurse told me I could let you have more in a few minutes.”“Thanks,” he told her, his voice sounding less like a stranger’s than when he’d first spoke.“How—how long? What day is it?”“It’s Friday, Zach.You’ve lost a whole week.” Her thumb glided over the rough bumps of his knuckles, a simple, soothing touch that seemed as necessary to sustain life as the water.“After your surgery, the doctors thought it best to keep you sedated.But you’ve turned the corner, finally.You’re going to make it home.”As his eyes focused, he noticed the scrapes along the side of her arm.“Hurt?” he asked.“You weren’t sh-shot?”“Thanks to you, I wasn’t.But you were, instead.The same way Eden might have been if she’d been standing out there with me.”He squinted, trying to make sense of it.“Canter may be a big jerk, worried enough about that big donation your mother promised his department to arrest me, but he was right about this,” Jessie told him.“A witness saw the car speed off.Saw the bald man with the neck tattoos behind the wheel with the trigger man beside him.”“Same guy from R-Rusted Spur?”She nodded in answer.“The very same.Or at least that’s what he confessed when the police caught up to both of them, not ten minutes after you were shot.They’ve been trying to kill me, trying ever since my old boss Vivian Carlisle found out I knew her fiancé, H.Lee Simmons, was bribing politicians.They killed Henry, and they almost killed you, twice.”“The barn, too?” he guessed, remembering the locked door and accelerants, both of which Hellfire had stubbornly refused to admit to.“I’m so sorry, Zach,” she said again.“I had no idea they were after me the whole time.Trying to shut me up before I let the public know what I’d found out
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