Page 34 of Seaside Cowboy's Fairy Tale

“Rachel,” she whispered. She was tired of deceit, or maybe too weak from blood loss to fight it. She wanted him to call her by her real name. “Rachel.”

“It’s a beautiful name.” His eyes sparkled in a weird way as if he were struggling with tears.

“Thanks.” She swallowed around a lump in her throat. “It’s just a flesh wound,” she said again, even as a mental fog started to claim her mind.

“Areyoutrying to comfortme?”

“Yup.”

“You’re the one wounded, and you are comforting me. I’ve never met anyone like you.”

“And you never will.” Her lids grew heavy, but she kept them open. She needed to stay present. It was important. It was extremely important, but it was getting difficult to remember why. “You need to steer us to the shore. I can hold this to the wound. You can’t be in two places at the same time.”

“Right. We need to get you to help. Sorry.” He rushed back to the, well, whatever that part of the boat was and started the motor again. The boat jerked, then propelled forward, making her nauseous.

What was he apologizing for? She was the one who’d created a big mess. And now she didn’t know how to get out of it. Her thoughts slowed down to a slog. And then everything disappeared, and she stopped thinking anything at all.

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“You must be Tex Lawrence.”

In the hospital corridor near Rachel’s private room, Tex didn’t have the emotional strength even to answer the female voice, just nodded. The hall smelled of antiseptics, stale coffee, and desperation. Its white walls and ceiling were like a blank page where a happy ending could be written—but more often, a tragedy.

Numb and fatigued, he fought the exhaustion replacing the adrenaline. His entire life seemed to have concentrated on the tip of the surgeon’s scalpel, and Tex had alternated between pacing the hall and cradling his head, all the time praying. The only break he’d taken was to talk to the police and have his assistant find Ms. Irene Bruzlin’s phone number—yes, he’d learned Rachel’s full name and more when the hospital staff got into her wallet to admit her. Then he’d called her boss. Rachel didn’t mention any friends, and phoning coworkers didn’t seem right. And while her pet mice would probably eagerly await news about her for emotional and nutritional reasons—after all, someone needed to feed them—it wasn’t like Tex could call them.

Now that Rachel was asleep after her surgery, all his strength seemed to seep out of him to an invisible puddle on the floor just like Rachel’s blood had gathered in a far-too-visible puddle on his boat.

He forced himself to lift his heavy head as a woman strode toward him with the authority and confidence of someone used to being in charge. He’d never met her. But she knew his name, and he recalled her voice. Tall and elegant, she’d styled her gray hair in a short low-maintenance cut that barely covered her ears and highlighted her dangling gold earrings. He’d been around enough affluent businesswomen to know her classy charcoal pantsuit and matching shoes were expensive. Based on the wrinkles creasing her hands and neck, she might be in her sixties, though the freckles speckling her cheeks and framing her intelligent gray eyes—eyes now wide with worry—made her look much younger.

He got up from the uncomfortable plastic chair to meet her and offered his hand. “Are you Irene Bruzlin?”

“Yes.” Her perfume was as subtle as her makeup and clearly expensive, her gaze was open, and her handshake was firm, just like he’d expected. “Nice to meet you, though I wish it were under different circumstances.”

So this was the woman who’d saved Rachel from a disastrous life. Ms. Bruzlin was much more to Rachel than a boss. She was a mentor and the only maternal figure Rachel had for most of her life. And since she was important to his Cinderella, she was important to Tex. Considering she donated to the charity auction for his annual gala, though she hadn’t visited it to his knowledge, it seemed odd their paths hadn’t crossed earlier.

“Same here,” he said. “The doctor said—”

“I talked to the doctor.” But of course, she did. She didn’t look like a woman to sit and wait. “To the police, as well.”

“Rachel saved my life. Several times.” He hung his head, guilt slamming at him with as much force as his brother Darius often had when they’d played football as teens. “It’s all my fault. Someone is out to get me, and Rachel was in the line of fire.”

“Don’t blame yourself. Sheworksin the line of fire.” A shadow passed over the woman’s eyes as she slid into the uncomfortable seat the color of fresh vomit. However, she didn’t lean back in it, and her posture remained rigid.

“Yes, and that worries me, too. But I should’ve done better to keep her safe. Instead, I dragged her into danger.” His stomach twisted. How selfish. He’d wanted to spend time with her and thought they’d be safe out on the ocean. He was wrong, and Rachel had paid for his mistake.

“Not your fault.” She paused. “You see, my company is my life. I’m not married and don’t have children. But my heart hurts when I have to give her some of these assignments. Then I can’t sleep at night until she’s back. But that’s the way she wanted to live. She loves what she’s doing, and she’s good at it. She’s one of the best I’ve ever had.” Her eyes sparkled as if with unshed tears, and she blinked. She wasn’t the type of woman to cry.

Neither was Rachel, and Tex sent up another prayer.

“Does she know that... that you can’t sleep when she’s on a perilous assignment?” he asked, choosing his words carefully.

Ms. Bruzlin shook her head. “I can’t show favoritism to a subordinate.”

He could see why Rachel loved and admired this woman like a mother, though there had to be professional distance between them.

In the corporate world, people were often careful what they said. He’d learned to hide his feelings because he needed to exude the appearance of strength. Emotions were often perceived as a sign of weakness, and weakness could be exploited. People who showed emotions didn’t close the deal. But something changed in him. He let his eyes show the raw desperation he still felt. “I know we only met recently, but Rachel matters to me, too. More than I even realized. And I believe she’s more than an employee to you.”

Based on the movement of her neck, Ms. Bruzlin swallowed hard. But her expression remained neutral. “Formeremployee. She quit while I was on a vacation overseas.”

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