answer, and slowly turned to look at her, his expression impossible to read.
“A lot of people have already seen us together,” he said, his gaze remaining locked with hers. “The few who’ve asked, I told the same story I told you, Jack. It’s probably all over town by now. We can’t shift gears now.”
“I can move back to the guest room,” she suggested, pleased that her voice came out calm and pragmatic, considering how much she wanted to go find a quiet corner and cry.
“Then I guess I should go,” Jack said.
“No,” Hannah said quickly, moving toward him. The last thing she could bear was driving Jack away from what was apparently the only home-and family-he had.
And the last thing she needed was to spend the next few nights alone in the house with Riley.
Chapter Ten
Quiet tension settled over the scene, punctuated by the drumming of rain on the stable’s metal roof. Hannah’s pulse drummed in her ears as she waited for Jack’s answer.
Jack looked at Riley, a question in his eyes. Hannah looked at Riley, too, wondering what he’d say.
“It’s your home,” Riley said. “You’re Emily’s brother.”
She released a soft breath and laid her hand on Jack’s arm. “You keep the guest room. I’ll bunk on the sofa.”
“I’ll take the couch. You’re still recuperating.” Jack patted her hand, the tension in his muscles easing. “Dinner’s on the table. I grabbed takeout from Haley’s Barbecue-best beef ribs west of the Mississippi.”
The thought of food made her feel ill, but she managed a smile. “Why don’t you drive me back to the house and I’ll brew up some old-fashioned Southern sweet tea to go with it? Riley can finish up here.”
“Wait and let me drive you back,” Riley countered.
“Don’t you trust me?” Jack shot him a pointed look.
Riley frowned. “Fine. But don’t mess around. Go straight home and lock up when you get there.”
Jack laid his hand on Hannah’s back, gentle pressure guiding her out with him. They dashed through the rain to his battered Ford F-10 and hurried into the cab.
Jack paused with his hand on the starter. “I know I’m being a big baby about all this. It’s just-Riley was the best thing that ever happened to Emily. It’s hard even imagining him caring about anyone else the way he loved her, you know?”
Hannah smiled, genuinely this time. “I do understand. And for the record-I think Emily was the best thing that ever happened to him, too. I know he thinks so.”
The gratitude in Jack’s eyes made her want to cry. “I wish you could have known her.”
“I do, too,” she admitted.
Emily Patterson must have been one hell of a woman, to have left such a big hole in the lives of men like Jack Drummond and Riley Patterson.
HANNAH HAD THOUGHT SHE’D be relieved by having a room to herself after so much togetherness with Riley over the past couple of days, but she’d found it hard to fall asleep. Every bump, rattle or moan of the wind kept her on edge for most of the night. She fell into a restless sleep around 3:00 a.m., waking around seven thanks to the sound of bootfalls outside her door. Her headache was back, though she suspected the culprit was her sleepless night rather than her concussion, and sometime in the night the fire in her wood stove had died away, leaving the room icy cold.
She dressed in jeans and a dark green sweater, thankful she’d done her homework and packed for the cooler mountain climate. Back home in Alabama, early October was still warm enough to walk around in short sleeves and sandals most days.
She followed the smell of bacon and coffee to the kitchen and found Jack alone at the stove, cobbling together an omelet. “Good morning,” he said over his shoulder.
She mumbled a response and poured a cup of coffee, stirring in a teaspoon of sugar from a canister by the coffeemaker. The brew was hot and strong, just like she liked it. She took her cup back to the table and let it warm her up.
“Want an omelet?”
Now that the coffee was doing the trick, her appetite was kicking in. “Yes, please. Where’s Riley?”
“Joe came by early this morning. I think they’re out with the horses.” Jack flipped an omelet onto a plate and placed it in front of her. “Dig in.”
The omelet was excellent, and she told him so.
“Don’t sound so surprised,” he said mildly.
“I just figured a rodeo cowboy wouldn’t have much time to hone his culinary skills.”
“Oh, there’s plenty of downtime. And rodeo pay is pretty unpredictable, so you learn to get by without a lot of the perks.” He finished off his double omelet quickly, downing it with two cups of coffee. “I’m getting too old for it.”
“Thinking about settling down?” she teased, expecting him to quickly deny it.
But he didn’t. “I’ve lost too much time with people I love while I was chasing rodeos around the country. Maybe if I’d been here-”
She reached across the table and covered his hand with hers. “From what I understand, there’s not much anyone could have done, except stop the killer first.”
He turned his palm up, squeezing her hand with a grateful half smile. “You’re right. I know you are. I just-”
He fell quiet when the kitchen door opened and Riley entered, Joe Garrison bringing up the rear.
Riley’s eyes narrowed slightly as he saw Hannah’s hand in Jack’s. Hannah ignored the urge to jerk her hand away, letting Jack remove his hand first.
“Anything new?” she asked, directing the question to Joe. Riley crossed silently to the coffeemaker and poured a cup.
Joe sat next to her, laying a thick folder on the table. “Maybe. We’re not sure.” He opened the folder and handed her a photocopy of a driver’s license. “Does this man look familiar?”
The man in question was Dale Morton, age 44, with a home address in Moran, Wyoming. He had sandy-brown hair and, according to the information on the license, brown eyes, though it was hard to tell that from the photo. He was average-looking, maybe a little on the beefy side.
She shook her head. “But I didn’t see his face.”
“As far as you remember.” Riley had remained standing to drink his coffee, leaning against the counter. He continued to watch her through narrowed eyes.
It was starting to annoy her.
“Who is this guy?”
“He’s a security guard at the hospital. He was on duty the night you were admitted, but he was off duty earlier in the day. He also worked at the hospital in Casper where Emily was working when she was murdered,” Riley answered.
Jack reached across the table to take the photo from Hannah’s hands. “You think this is the guy who killed Em?”
“We don’t know,” Joe warned quickly. “We were looking for links, and that one turned up.”
“It’s the only link between the two hospitals among the Jackson Memorial security staff,” Riley added.
“What if it wasn’t someone in security?” Hannah asked. “I mean, we don’t know that it wasn’t someone on the medical staff. Whoever it was sure seemed to know his way around an IV tube.”
“We started with security because of the tampered surveillance recording,” Joe said. “We’re looking at the medical staff, too.”
“Joe just wanted to pass this one by you, see if he jogged your memory at all.”
She looked up at Jack. He handed her the photo again, and she gave it another look. “I think the build could probably fit.” Though she’d seen little more than the man’s midsection, he’d been on the bigger side. Not overweight, exactly, but thick waisted and on the burly side.
