“Still in once piece.Got my bell rung,” he said in a gravelly voice.“Musta hit the steering wheel.How’s Sarah?”
“I think she’s just knocked out.An ambulance is coming.Recognize that shithead who nailed you?”
Butler shook his head, then grimaced in pain.“Don’t know him or that truck.”
Swell.
Butler’s hand went to the door handle.
“Stay in the car, Butler,” Ben said.“You’re probably concussed, and you’ll just fall down.I don’t want to come over there and haul you up.”
Butler put his hand to his head again.
Ben knelt to hold Sarah’s limp fingers.He couldn’t take his gaze off her face and noticed a swelling on her temple.Perhaps in the collision her head banged into the side window.Maybe that’s why she lost consciousness.If a person’s head struck hard enough and in the right place, the brain could be made to lurch against the brain pan, like a prizefighter knocking out his opponent, and cause unconsciousness.Usually, it would result in a simple concussion.Fervently, he hoped this injury would prove minor.
Vibrating with rage and adrenalin, he felt sweat drench him.He wanted to kill that driver, murder him.Twice.He peered down the highway road in desperate longing.If he accomplished nothing else in his life, he was going to get that guy.The guy that had tried to take Sarah from him.
Leaning back inside the car, he patted her cheek.“Sarah, come on, honey.Sarah.”
After a minute, her eyelids fluttered.
“Stay still, sweetheart.Help is on the way.You’ll be okay.You’ll be just fine.”
She moaned and her head lolled on her shoulders.“Ben,” she whispered, struggling to sit up.
She knew who he was.That was a relief.
“Ben,” she got out on a whisper.“Why?W-why is somebody trying to hurt me?”
Ben gritted his teeth.“Whoever it is, he’s sick.Loony tunes.”He squeezed her hand.“Don’t worry.I’ll take care of you.I’ll keep you safe.”
Only he hadn’t.
As Sarah slowly regained her wits, the truth slammed home.Hehadn’ttaken care of her.He’d allowed her to be hurt.This happened when she was supposed to be under his protection.Fury at his own incompetence filled his mind, made his vision go black.What a failure.And he, who’d thought himself skilled at his job.Ben Paxton, the big man.The former Navy SEAL commander.The owner of Paxton Security.Sweat dripped down his jaw.
In crushing remorse, he squeezed his eyes shut.
He shouldn’t have allowed Sarah to leave the ranch at all.Or, if he had, he should have been right next to her.The mistakes he’d made lined up and marched before his mind’s eye like pitiless battle-bound soldiers.
His failure tasted bitter.
There was only one thing to do now, and as soon as Sarah received a clean bill of health, it would be done.
****
The hospital didn’tfeel it necessary for Sarah to spend the night and sent her home with orders to ice her temple and rest.
“I don’t see any symptoms of concussion,” the doctor said.He clicked a pen and stuck it into his lab coat pocket.“No dizziness or nausea.She’s not sensitive to light.Her mental acuity appears normal.She’s lucky.However, I recommend someone monitor her tonight.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Ben muttered darkly.He wouldn’t be moving more than inches from her now.
While physicians were examining her and Butler, he’d made a call to Chief King and reported the incident.Predictably, King was furious at the attack, told Ben he’d put out an APB for a big truck with oversized tires and damage to the body.He arranged for Butler’s car to be towed to town for examination.Then, Ben let an alarmed Big Jim know about the incident and promised to bring her home shortly.
Ben drove both Sarah and Butler.Butler needed only a few stitches in his forehead.Letting him out at his home, Ben waited for the other man to open the door.
His head bandaged, Butler said, “I’m sorry, Sarah.I shouldn’t have let that happen.”
“It’s not your fault, Travis.Whoever it is, he’s evil.”
