Shirlee McCoy - Defender for Hire

That’s what his sister, Piper, would probably say. His three brothers would have a different view of the situation.

But Tessa’s opinion was all that mattered. She’d tell the deputy sheriff what she needed to. With or without Seth’s prodding.

He hoped.

The doorbell rang as he walked into the living room, and the front door swung open. A mousy brunette rushed inside. She glanced in Seth’s direction, her gaze dropping to Bentley, who lay still and quiet on the sofa.

She hurried to the dog’s side, putting her hand on his head, sliding it down toward an area on Bentley’s haunch that was glossy and slick with blood. “Where’s Tessa?”

“Speaking with the police.”

“I’m Amy Spenser. Bentley’s veterinarian.” She opened the dog’s mouth, examined his gums. “He’s in shock. I’m going to have to take him to the clinic. Tessa!” she called, her attention focused on the dog, her dark eyes nearly hidden behind the thick lenses of her glasses.

“Right here.” Tessa hurried into the room with Deputy Sheriff Randal right behind her.

Amy’s gaze cut from one to the other, then settled on Tessa. “I’m going to take him to the clinic and start some fluids. You said you thought he was shot?”

“I heard a pop. Nothing like other gunfire I’ve heard, but I don’t know what else it could have been.” Tessa touched the dog’s scruffy chin, her red hair sliding over her shoulder, nearly hiding the bruises on her neck.

“If it’s a gunshot wound, the perpetrator might have used a silencer.” Randal leaned over Bentley, touching the bloodied area. “We’ll need the bullet if there is one.”

“I’ll keep it for you,” the vet responded. “Right now, though, I need to get Bentley stabilized.”

“I’ll carry him out to your car,” Tess said, patting the dog’s big head, her hand trembling.

If he’d known her well, Seth would have taken her hand, tried to still the tremors.

“Let me,” he said instead, sliding his arms under the dog and lifting him from the couch. The poor mutt didn’t even whimper.

Cold wind knifed through Seth’s jacket as he followed Dr. Spenser to an SUV and lowered Bentley into the back. The dog licked his hand, its tail thumping. No wonder Tessa had given him a home.

Seth closed the hatch, his shoulder throbbing. He’d been up since before dawn. After therapy, he’d dropped off Tessa’s unwanted pet and then gone to the office where he poured over files until his neck cramped and his eyes crossed. He needed to go home and stretch the kinks out, maybe go for a run to clear his head. What he shouldn’t do was get involved in Tessa’s troubles. He’d been through six years of trouble. First Julia’s death, then his injury, his surgery, his recovery. He didn’t need or want anything more than what he’d finally achieved: normalcy, and a little peace.

He had a feeling that peace was the last thing he’d have if he didn’t get in his truck and drive away.

Sometimes, though, peace was overrated. Sometimes God put a person in just the right place at just the right time to accomplish His will and plan. It could be that Seth had been dropped into Tessa’s life at exactly the right moment to lend a hand.

He couldn’t turn away from that. No matter how much he thought he should.

He shoved his hand in his pocket, his fingers brushing the envelope that had brought him to Tessa’s house. He’d planned to deliver it to her, and that was exactly what he was going to do.

THREE

“You’re sure that you don’t know the perpetrator?” Deputy Sheriff Randal asked for what seemed like the thousandth time in the ten minutes since they’d returned to the kitchen.

Tessa wasn’t sure what response he wanted, but apparently it wasn’t the one she’d been giving. She gave it again, anyway, tapping her fingers against the stained wood of the old dinette table. “I never saw his face, Deputy—”

“Call me Logan. Most people around these parts do,” he cut in, offering a quick smile that didn’t meet his eyes.

“I don’t know who attacked me. If I did, I’d tell you.”

“Sometimes victims want to protect their attackers.”

“I’m not protecting anyone.” But in a way, that was exactly what she was doing. She was protecting Daniel, his legacy, his dream. Their dream.

She bit her lip, torn between the need to do that and the need to tell Logan everything that had happened in the woods—including the words that had been whispered in her ear.

“But, you are hiding something.”

She was. That was the problem.

“I—”

The front door opened, cutting off the truth before Tessa could reveal it.

Logan cocked his head to the side and frowned, pushing away from the table, his hand dropping to his firearm. “Stay here. I’ll see who that is.”

Even if she’d wanted to, Tessa didn’t have the energy to follow him from the room. Her neck hurt. Her head throbbed. Her elbow ached.

And she was more scared than she’d been in a long time.

She rubbed the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes and trying to imagine a scenario where the attack had nothing to do with her past.

I remember. Do you?

She did. Every moment of the nightmare that she’d survived and every bit of the secret she’d been charged with. Could she tell the sheriff about one without telling him about the other?

Footsteps sounded on the hardwood floor, masculine voices mixing with the quiet hum of the refrigerator. She wanted to say goodnight to Logan, climb in bed, close her eyes and pretend that everything was the same as it had been when she’d gotten up that morning. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t solve her problems. She’d learned that the hard way, ignoring all the little hints that Andrew had let slip because she hadn’t wanted to believe that he was anything other than upright and trustworthy.

It had cost her the only man she’d ever loved. It had cost Daniel his life. She couldn’t let it cost any more.

She shoved away from the table, wishing she could push away the memories. She just wanted to forget and move on, but no matter how long or far she ran, she couldn’t escape the past.

She grabbed the kettle from the 1920s stove and filled it with tap water. A cup of tea wouldn’t sooth her nerves, but she needed to keep her hands busy, keep her mind occupied. If she didn’t, she might sink back into the abyss she’d fallen into after Daniel’s death. The dark well of grief and anger had nearly destroyed her. It had taken everything she’d had to pull herself out of it. Her faith had suffered, her relationship with God floundering as she wrestled with nightmares and fear. She couldn’t allow herself to go back there.

“Tessa,” Logan said as he walked back into the kitchen with Seth. “It seems like you left a little bit out of the story you told me.”

“What’s that?” she responded, reminding herself that Logan couldn’t know what had been whispered in her ear. But that didn’t stop her heart from thumping hard. One revelation would lead to another, and that was a path she wasn’t sure she could take. Not without risking everything she and Daniel had worked for.

“The delivery you received this morning?” Logan prodded.

“It was nothing.” She glanced at Seth, found that she couldn’t drag her gaze away. He didn’t look apologetic. But, then, she hadn’t expected him to be that any more than she’d expected him to keep what had happened that morning to himself. She wanted to be angry, wanted to feel betrayed, but she’d have probably done the same if she’d been in his position.

“There aren’t many people who would say that if they received a package with a giant spider in it,” Logan said, pulling her attention back where it needed to be—on him, the conversation, the questions that she needed to answer. And, the ones she couldn’t.