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weren’t talking—arguing—he could almost pretend that things were the way they used to be. Pretend she didn’t hate him…and that he didn’t hate himself.

      The stubborn look on her face didn’t match the glazed look in her eyes and the way she swayed as she sat there alone.

      His heart clinched. “Try not to argue, for once.”

      “I DON’T ARGUE,” SHE muttered, her body naturally leaning against his, despite her better judgment.

      With her brain somewhat fuzzy, she had to work to remind herself that Pierce Thunder Horse wasn’t someone she could trust.

      When she realized he was headed away from her ranch, Roxanne frowned. “You’re going the wrong way.”

      “I’m taking you home with me.”

      “I can’t go home with you! Some maniac is out there on a dirt bike shooting up every rider he sees—I need to get home so I can call the sheriff and tell him what happened. Then I need to check on my horse and make sure she got back safe and isn’t badly hurt. And when that’s done, I’ll need to saddle back up to go check on Sweet Jessie—I think the bullet that winged me might have hit her, too, but I didn’t have a chance to check.”

      “You can call the sheriff from our house—for all the good that will do—and you can call your foreman to check on your horse. Jim knows your stables as well as you do, and he’ll be able to take care of the mare if anything’s wrong. As for Sweet Jessie, I’ll send one of my brothers back to check on her. But right now, you’ve got a bullet hole in your shoulder, and every sign of a concussion. You need to go where people can take care of you.”

      “And you think you can take care of me?” As soon as the words came out, they both flinched. She knew it was a low blow to throw Mason in Pierce’s face, even if he had fallen short on his promise to keep her brother safe. They both knew what Pierce had done—he’d never offered any excuses for what had happened to Mason, not even when she’d begged him to explain.

      “It’s my responsibility to personally verify the status of the wild horses,” she said, choosing to change the subject. She glanced behind them as if she could see to where she’d left Sweet Jessie. “I can’t just let someone else take care of it.” I’ve got responsibilities, too, she wanted to say—but didn’t.

      “The sooner you stop arguing, the sooner you can get fixed up enough to leave. Until then, you’re on my horse and we’re going to my house.”

      She stared up into his face and recognized that Thunder Horse stubborn streak in the tightness of his jaw. He wasn’t going to budge on the matter.

      The ache in her head intensified and her shoulder burned where she’d been nicked. She willed herself to be stronger, squeezing closed her eyes as a wave of nausea washed over her. When she opened her eyes, her vision was no less blurry, maybe having something to do with the tears of frustration threatening to fall.

      Dear God, she refused to cry in front of Pierce. She’d already spent the past two months crying when no one was looking.

      With her horse gone, the shooter still at large and herself just about too tired and bruised to muster up the energy to do anything at all, she decided not to argue with the man. Instead, she clamped shut her lips and tried to keep as far away from Pierce as possible. A difficult task, considering she was sitting in his lap.

      After a few minutes, the sway of the horse lulled her into a daze. Giving up the fight, she leaned into his body and stayed there the rest of the ride back to the Thunder Horse Ranch.

      The scent of leather and denim and the familiar earthy, musky male aroma set her heart beating faster and heat radiating throughout her body, reminding her of better times and of all they’d lost.

      If she hadn’t called off the engagement then she and Pierce would have married by now. They might even have had a baby on the way. She’d loved Pierce so much, had been so sure that she’d finally found someone she could count on, someone who could be a real partner in her life as well as a lover. Losing that hope had hurt. It still hurt.

      A sob rose in her throat, choking off the air to her lungs. Her head aching with each passing mile, Roxanne stiffened and tried to move away from Pierce.

      The arm around her tightened, pinning her. Short of making a big fuss and possibly falling off the horse, Roxanne had no choice but to stay put.

      Rather than relive their final days as an engaged couple, Roxanne forced herself to think through what had just happened. “What do you think that man was after?” she wondered out loud.

      “I don’t know, but he seemed pretty determined to shoot you.” Pierce’s grip tightened on the reins.

      The stallion danced sideways, seemingly confused by his rider’s instruction to slow.

      A slight movement of Pierce’s legs, and loosening the reins, set the horse in a forward motion again.

      “If someone wanted to shoot me, why would he wait until I was out in the canyon? There are easier ways to find me, in places where he could have gotten close enough to get a much better shot.”

      Pierce liked that thought even less if the way he tensed was any indication, but before he could reply, the stallion beneath them stumbled, jolting Roxanne. She winced, pressing a hand to the back of her skull. “Ouch. Must have hit my head harder than I thought.”

      “I’ll get the doctor to come out as soon as I’ve got you settled.”

      “I’m fine. Just a flesh wound and a bump on the noggin. I’ll be back in the saddle by morning.”

      “Not if you have a concussion.” His voice was firm, unyielding. “The doctor will have to clear you to my satisfaction before I let you leave the ranch.”

      “Hey, get this straight, mister.” She poked him in the chest. “The decisions about what I can and cannot do are between me and the doctor. You’ve got no part in them, or in anything else that has to do with me.”

      She recognized the mulish expression on his face and knew what he’d say before he even opened his mouth. “When you don’t know what’s good for you then somebody has to step in.”

      “You’re not good for me—we’re not good for each other. We can’t even ride a couple of miles of trail together without fighting.” She took a deep breath, forcing her voice to sound calm, collected. “Just let me go home, Pierce. I’m not your problem anymore, and I can take care of myself. I’ve been running a ranch by myself for years. I think I can make my own decisions.”

      Another jolt and the pain reverberating around the inside of her skull made her cringe. Well, darn it all. Why did she have to be so weak in front of the one man she’d sworn to never show an ounce of vulnerability again?

      “Look,” Pierce said. “I don’t want you at the ranch any more than you want to be there. But I won’t let you go home until the doc says you can.”

      Her chest tightened at his harsh words. Once they could barely stand to be apart. Now they could barely stand to be together. Too much had happened. Irreversible actions and words with permanent consequences. “Okay, I’ll stay until the doctor can convince you that I’m all right. Which I am.”

      Roxanne didn’t relish the idea of being at the Thunder Horse Ranch with Pierce there. She’d been over a couple times to meet Tuck’s fiancée and get measured for her bridesmaid dress, but she’d left as soon as possible to avoid any chance of running into Pierce.

      Why did he have to be the one to find her out in the canyon? Why couldn’t it have been Tuck, or one of Pierce’s other brothers? Why did her already horrible day have to sink to the new low of having to depend on the man who’d encouraged her brother to join the FBI and then let him die in that explosion?

      What had happened had been inexcusable and irreversible. She knew that for sure. Not because of the FBI—the official word they had

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