Page 26 of Stalked at Rescue Ridge

“She doesn’t deserve this, Travis.” Bree was a good person.

“No. Which is why we’re going to catch the bastard who did this to her and prosecute the hell out of him. That’s a promise.” Travis had been one of the best running backs that Kade had ever seen. An injury had kept him from playing college ball, but he’d always planned to go into law enforcement anyway. Kade wasn’t surprised he’d become a well-respected deputy.

“I know you will.”

Travis pulled out a notepad, and his demeanor changed. He was going into work mode. “Tell me everything you remember, every detail.”

Kade gave his statement.

“I’ve got a deputy at the barn and another with Weezie. Sheriff told them not to do much tonight. He doesn’t want to risk trampling evidence, so he’s roping it off until first light. Said we might have to wait until daylight to see what’s actually there.”

“Wait a minute,” Kade said. “You folks didn’t have anyone on the scene before now?”

Travis shook his head. “We’re down personnel as it is. I came here, and the sheriff took off, chasing a lead in the case.”

Kade figured it was probably too early to tell how or why this had happened, but he asked the question anyway.

Travis rubbed the scruff on his chin. “Sheriff’s on his way to the hospital now. Said he wants to be around to talk to her once she wakes. The lead didn’t pan out.”

Kade would rather Travis handle the case. He knew Bree. He would care the most about catching the bastard who did this to her.

“What about you? Do you have a plane to catch?” Travis asked.

“No. For one, Beaumont’s affairs got messy today. Did you hear about my new half-brother?” News traveled fast in small towns.

Travis caught Kade’s gaze. “Are you surprised?”

“That there’s only one, yes,” Kade stated.

They exchanged knowing looks. Beaumont’s activities hadn’t exactly been a well-guarded secret.

“You make a good point,” Travis said.

“I’ll be here as long as it takes.” Kade needed to see this through with Bree. Make sure she’d be okay, then decide what to do about having a baby together. Kade glanced over at her while she slept. Her normally shiny, long blond hair stuck together in stringy clumps. Not even the bruising and cuts on her face could detract from her beauty, though.

“I cleared it with the doc for you to be here for now. My boss won’t like my decision.” Even in the low-lit room, Kade could clearly see the look of apology on Travis’s face.

“Maybe he doesn’t get a say,” Kade fired back. He’d never liked Sheriff Halston Carr. The man had never earned his keep a day in his life. His wealthy aunt had used her considerable influence to ensure he’d been elected. As far as Kade was concerned, Carr had always been a freeloading jerk. Of course, being sheriff in Jackson County was easy work, considering most crimes consisted of cow-tipping and running rowdy teens out of places like the Hollow.

“You don’t want to go against him,” Travis warned.

“I think I’ve got a good handle on what I want to—”

“Don’t,” Travis warned. “I know you’re still dealing with Zeke’s…with the fact that he’s gone. Trust me, you don’t want to make enemies here, especially with Carr. He has more influence than you realize.”

“Thanks for the advice, but I’m not walking into this blind.”

“He could make life hard for your sister.”

Damn if that didn’t get Kade’s attention. “Why do you work for such an asshole?”

“I don’t. I care about the people of Saddle Junction. That’s who I work for and why I do this job.” Travis was third-generation law enforcement. Most thought he should’ve been sheriff. Kade wouldn’t disagree. The man was a saint and a damn good deputy, a damn good person.

“Fair enough.” Kade moved to Bree’s side. “I’m still not leaving. Not unless she wakes and tells me to go.”

He took her hand in his—hers was so small in comparison—and he felt a twitch in her right index finger. It was probably just a reflex, but he hoped it was something more, like maybe she liked the fact he was here and planned on staying until she could say what had happened. No way did he plan to leave her vulnerable and alone.

The door opened, and the sheriff walked in. He was in his late forties with a ruddy complexion. Tall and big-boned, he strolled in like he owned the place. He wore jeans and a tan shirt with a cowboy hat and gun belt. His weapon rested on his right side, and his hand hovered over the butt of his department-issued Glock.

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