The key turned in the lock and the door swung open to silence. The living room had been straightened, Slade’s clutter of newspapers, gun magazines, and empty beer cans thrown out. A vase of fresh bluebonnets and daisies sat on the freshly polished coffee table.
“Thank you so much!” Turning, Natalie hugged her friend. “Not just fo
r this but for everything! How am I ever going to pay you back?”
“You already have.” Tori returned the hug. “Now let me check the place out so you can relax, knowing you’re safe. Then I’ll have to run along. Erin will be getting home from school, and I’ve got clients coming.”
Tori gave each room a brief inspection, as if she expected Slade to lunge out of a closet or reach out from under the bed. She even checked the garage and tiptoed down the hall to open the door of the clinic and glance in. Natalie sensed that Tori was doing it for show, but she waited in the living room until her friend came back to report.
“All clear,” Tori announced. “Now get some rest. There’s a quart of your favorite double fudge ice cream in the freezer. Find a big spoon, put your feet up, and forget about that hospital food you had to eat. That’s an order!” She strode toward the door. “Lock yourself in. That’s an order, too.”
Natalie sighed as her best friend drove away. Tori had been an angel, but she really could take care of herself. Was it her petite size that made people want to mother her? Or did she really appear that helpless?
The ice cream could wait. After three days of forced inactivity, she was ready to get some things done. She could start by cleaning up the mess in her clinic and making a list of what needed to be repaired or replaced.
Seizing a broom and a dustpan from the kitchen closet, she marched down the hall that connected the clinic with the rest of the house. A chill passed through her body as she reached for the doorknob. Natalie willed herself to ignore it. Tori had checked the clinic and pronounced it safe. And the sooner she entered the crime scene and owned it, the sooner she could heal and move ahead with her life.
Squaring her shoulders, she turned the knob, opened the door, and stepped into the familiar space. She gasped. The broom and dustpan clattered to the floor.
Her clinic was in perfect condition, as if nothing had happened.
CHAPTER 10
Natalie stared at the gleaming floor and counters, the furniture, equipment, and supplies. Was her head injury causing her to hallucinate? She’d left the place in ruins.
Only when a tall figure rose from the couch did everything fall into place.
“Welcome home, Natalie,” Beau said.
She gripped the door frame, blasted by a tempest of emotions—gratitude, yes, but surprisingly, the most overpowering of all was outrage. Why hadn’t anyone understood that she needed to do this job herself, to work through the wreckage Slade had left behind, to prove that she could manage on her own?
Beau had taken that healing task away from her. Tori must have had a hand in it, too. He couldn’t have done it without her cooperation.
Beau was watching her with a concerned expression. She realized she was shaking.
“How . . . could . . . you?” Each word was forced from her tight throat.
A wounded look flashed across his face. Then, as if the truth had dawned, he strode across the room and caught her close.
Natalie went rigid, her fists balling against his hard chest. She fought his strength, but his arms only tightened around her, confining her, confining the storm as he’d learned to do years ago when she was upset. Slowly the resistance ebbed. Still reluctant, she sagged against him, breathing in little broken gasps. She didn’t want to take refuge in his arms. She didn’t want to need him. But, heaven help her, she did.
His embrace had gentled. “Would you like me to wreck the place again so you can clean it up yourself?” he murmured against her hair.
“You could have asked me first,” she said.
“You would have said no.”
“I’ll pay you back every cent this cost you.”
“It wasn’t that much. By the time we picked everything up off the floor, there were only a few odds and ends that needed to be replaced.”
“Rimrock will get free vet care for the rest of my life.”
He moved his hands to her shoulders, shifting her away from him so he could look into her bruised face. “Let it go, Natalie. You’ve been through a hell of a time. Let the people who love you have the pleasure of helping.”
Had Beau just said he loved her?
But no, he hadn’t meant it—not that way. And even if he had, how could she welcome his love when he would only break her heart again?