“I don’t know whether to be pissed off or thankful.”
Big John just looked stoic, as if Sam would eventually figure it out. He thought of what Vince Nolan had tried to do, and his jawclenched hard.
Sam forced his muscles to relax. “She said you got there before Vince hurt her.”
Big John spat on the ground. “I was watching him. I saw the way he looked at her. When I noticed she was gone and so was he, I followed.”
“I’m damned glad you did. Thanks, John, for looking out for her.” He owed his friend a debt he could never repay. Just thinking of what could have happened made an ache throb in his chest.
“We need to get back,” Big John said. “He could still cause problems.”
Sam nodded. “I’ll round up the rest of the gear. We’ll ride out as soon as you’ve got the mules packed and ready.”
As he headed back to camp, Sam thought again of what Vince Nolan had done, and a shot of anger hit him so hard perspiration rose at the back of his neck.
He wasn’t done with Nolan.
Notby a long shot.
Chapter Twelve
They arrived back at the ranch late that afternoon. Tired, needing a shower and a nap before supper, everyone headed for their cabins. Big John and Caleb tended the animals while Sam strode toward Wolverine Cabin.
Libby hurried to catch up with him. “I don’t see their car,” she said, searching for the older Ford Fusion that had been parked in front. Sam opened the door, which wasn’t locked, and found the cabin empty. He checked the bedroom, looked in the closet, and checked the bathroom.
“Their gear is all gone.”
“Good riddance,” Libby said, her hand touching the scab that had formed on the spot where Vince had pressed his knife against her throat. She suppressed a shiver.
Sam’s gaze went around the empty cabin, and his jaw tightened. “I almost wish they were here.” He urged her back out the door and closed it behind them. “Clara will have supper mostly done. Why don’t you go upstairs and shower, maybe catch a nap?”
She didn’t protest. She was exhausted, and after her fight with Vince, her bodyached all over.
“How’s your head?” Sam asked. “You haven’t had any nausea orblurry vision?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“Still have a headache?”
“I took some more Tylenol. That helped. Mostly, I’m just tired.”
“All right, then.” He reached out and touched her cheek. “Go get some rest. I’ll check on you in a while just to make sure you’re all right.”
Libby nodded and hurried toward the house. She was eager to see the kittens, make sure they were okay. Her overnight bag was still packed in one of the mule panniers, but she had plenty of clothes, makeup, and everything else. Funny, she didn’t seem to need all thatstuff anymore.
She sighed. She probably shouldn’t get used to not wearing makeup. It was part of her life in the city, an essential part of her job. She’d done magazine ads for Revlon, L’Oreal, Maybelline, all the big cosmetic firms. She felt kind of guilty when she wentau natural.
In truth, wearing a little makeup made her feel feminine and pretty. She enjoyed looking pretty, especially for Sam.
Memories stirred of their encounter in his tent, but she forced them away. She thought about Sam way too much. She didn’t want to get hurt, and there was every chance she would if she fell for Sam.
Libby paused as she walked into the kitchen. She must have looked awful—dark circles under her eyes, her hair a rat’s nest, and a bump on her forehead—because Clara hurried overand hugged her.
“You must be exhausted. What in the world didSam do to you?”
A faint smile touched her lips.Not enough,she thought. “It was a hard trip but mostly good.” Except for Vince Nolan attacking her. “I...umm...hit my head.” She touched the lump on her forehead. “Sam said it would be okay if I went upstairs and took a nap.”
“Oh, honey. Of course it’s okay. I’ve had all day to get supper ready. You just run along now and don’t come down until you’re feeling better.”
