Page 64 of Bad Rio

On that thought, Becca felt a familiar warmth creep into her lower extremities ... and she felt a soft smile steal over her face. Oh, she wanted him better again. Soon.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

In the morning, Beccawas thrilled to find that Rio’s body temperature remained normal, with no return of his fever. He was still weak, but coherent. After changing his wound’s dressing with fresh gauze and tape, she prepared food. He took his pill, and she sat beside him in bed and asked about his home life.

“Guess there’s no harm in telling you.” He rubbed his jaw. “My dad—or at least the man who raised me—is Jim. Big Jim. And he raised my sister, too. Sarah. They’re my family.”

“Where are your real parents?”

“Don’t know.”

Becca decided prying wouldn’t be prudent. “Do you see Big Jim and Sarah often?”

“Not much.”

Thinking of how close she and her brothers were, she wondered why not. “Where are they?”

“Cattle ranch,” he said. “In Montana. I don’t go home much,” he offered. “In my line of work, I’ve made some enemies. It’s best if my connection to them is kept quiet.”

She frowned. “You think your family is in danger?”

He shifted uncomfortably. “Honestly? No, but it’s not smart to take chances.” His mouth curved up at one corner. “Anyway, my dad’s a rancher and a hunter. He’s sharp, proficient with guns. And Sarah’s tough. Anybody tangling with them might wish they hadn’t.”

Becca thought about how she’d like to meet the people who’d influenced Rio. But she dared not speak those thoughts aloud. The subject was too personal. It didn’t seem appropriate to keep probing.

“Where’s your mom, Becca? I’ve met your father and brothers. She still around?”

Becca lowered her gaze. “She passed. Six years ago. Lymphoma.”

“That’s too bad,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

Accepting his condolences, she thought about the year-long ordeal her family had endured while her mother sickened and died. She didn’t like thinking about it.

Instead, she asked a pressing question. “Do you know if there are any clear water streams or creeks nearby? We’re getting low on water.”

“Sure, only maybe a hundred yards to the west there’s a pretty creek. The water’s drinkable.” He yawned, tiring.

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