Page 11 of Solid as Steele
“Stop,” she said. “Let me see those bruises.”
“It’s nothing. Really. Doc says no internal injuries. Only surface bruises.”
She took hold of the fabric and separated it, working hard not to gasp. “And your back?”
She asked as she turned him and tugged the shirt down over his broad shoulders to see the answer. “These bruises are fresh. Someone beat you up before hitting you over the head.”
“Looks like it.” He shrugged the shirt over his broad shoulders.
“You didn’t just fall, then,” she muttered as she considered the situation. Maybe he hadn’t been alone out there. He’d been brutally beaten. But that could’ve happened before he arrived in the desert too.
The big question right now was how in the world was he moving and not in terrible pain?
“You need some pain relievers,” she said.
“They gave me Tylenol at the hospital.” A tight smile crossed his face as he continued to button his shirt. “Have you heard from Ryan?”
“He’s officially coming at six. Which is when I would like to have dinner. Does that work for you?”
“Sure. I can get a good nap in before if that’s okay with you.”
“Of course. There’s an alarm clock by the bed.” She started to leave but turned back. “Is there anything you need before then?”
“You’ve been more than generous.” He tugged on the shirttails. “I’ll repay every cent on your tally.”
“We’ll figure it all out.”
He frowned. “Your generosity floors me.”
“Faith in action,” she said and departed.
His gaze was on her as she made the trip back to her cabin. She was sure of it, and she had to force one foot in front of the other to keep moving. She really wanted to stay at the guest house with him to make sure he didn’t require any help and got the rest he needed. But he’d made no secret of his independent nature and wanting to be alone. She was fine with that. She really was. She’d come to the desert to be alone too.
Then why did she keep wanting to look back. Worse yet, turn around to stay with this man? He could be the worst kind of criminal who was very skilled in masquerading as a decent guy.
Her very life could be in danger and she’d best not forget that.
The smell of roasting beef wafted out of an open window, accompanied with laughter, and drew Owen toward the cabin. A newer model Ford Bronco in a cactus gray color sat in the drive. Ryan, Owen assumed.
The guy had arrived in style as newer Broncos could be pricey. Funny how Owen could recognize the make and model of a vehicle but not his own name. Some things seemed natural. Others appeared like a black wall in front of his face. The doctor had told him that was normal and not to let it freak him out, but it still did.
He knocked on the door, and the laughter died. Boots pounded on the floor from the other side of the door, and it was soon snatched open.
An intense guy with dishwater blond hair and a weightlifter’s build stood there, hiking boots planted wide. He had on green tactical pants with a T-shirt and wore a gun at his hip. “Guess you’re Owen. I’m Ryan Maddox.”
“Hey, thanks for coming, man,” Owen said. “I really appreciate it.”
“Yeah, well, Mac’s a longtime friend. My brothers and I will help whenever she needs us.”
Okay. Staking his territory?Certainly making sure that Owen knew that leading them into the wilderness was a favor for Mackenzie—not Owen.
Barefooted, Mackenzie crossed the room to join them. She was wearing a flowing skirt and clinging knit black top that contrasted with her light hair color.
Ryan turned to smile at her, and she tucked her arm in his to pull him away from the door. “Back off, Ryan, and let the guy in.”
Ryan frowned, but let her lead him back to the kitchen island where she pushed him onto a stool. He kept his gaze pinned to Owen.
Was every minute with this guy going to be a battle?
