Dropping the Hammer Read online

  “Months?”

  “Yes, but if all goes well, he’ll be making progress during that time. The alternative to at-home care would be to put him in a long-term-care facility until he can function more independently.”

  “You mean like a nursing home?”

  “Yes. There are facilities with differing levels of care so that a patient can move from one level to another as required.”

  “I’d have to hog-tie him to get him into one of those,” Luke said, thinking out loud.

  The doctor smiled. “And lock him in to keep him there.”

  “How long are we talking about before he can live on the ranch by himself with a minimum of help?”

  “I’ll be completely honest with you, Mr. Dawkins. I don’t know how much of the ranch work your father was doing before the stroke, but he may never be able to do all the physical activities needed to fully run his ranch.”

  Luke felt as if he’d been slammed into a brick wall. Ranching was his father’s life, more important than family had ever been to him.

  Luke had resented that fact growing up. Now he couldn’t help pitying his father.

  “Alfred can go home with you as early as next week, or you can start making arrangements to put him in a long-term-care facility.”

  The walls began to close in around Luke. Letting Luke or anyone else take over Arrowhead Hills Ranch would finish what the stroke had started. It would completely destroy his father.

  “I can’t make that decision today,” Luke said. “I’m not sure my father would consider letting me live at the ranch. We didn’t part on good terms. Our only contact in years has been short phone calls initiated by me.”

  “That does complicate matters,” Dr. Riche said. “Perhaps the social worker can help you sort out some of that. And luckily you have Rachel to help you with the legal issues, such as power of attorney for medical and financial issues.”

  Yeah. Just what Rachel needed. His problems heaped on top of hers.

  He listened to the rest of what the doctor had to say, but his mind was on Rachel instead of Alfred. He had no choice but to back out of her life while he dealt with the hell that had been dropped in his hands.

  Alfred Dawkins had once again ruined his life.

  * * *

  RACHEL PICKED UP her pace to keep up with Luke as he practically ran across the parking lot and back to his truck. As upset as he was, he still stopped and opened her door for her. “Forgive my running off and leaving you back there. Guess I was trying to escape the inescapable.”

  “Been there,” she said.

  “I know. And now I feel like a rat for pulling you into my dilemma—not that it comes close to matching what you’ve been through.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t go and see Alfred just yet,” she said as Luke started the engine and exited the parking garage. “You could probably use some time to look at the situation from different angles.”

  “Great idea,” Luke agreed. “Another eleven years would help.”

  “I was thinking more like an hour or two.”

  “Lawyers are so rational. Are you hungry?”

  “Not yet, and if your stomach is as tight as the way you’re clutching the steering wheel, I doubt it would welcome food.”

  “No, but I could use a drink. It’s almost noon. How about a margarita along the River Walk?”

  “An excellent idea.”

  Traffic wasn’t heavy and in less than a half hour, they’d driven to the center of the city, parked at one of the major hotels and made their way to the bustling waterway.

  Visiting the River Walk always seemed like stepping into a new world to Rachel. Colorful umbrellas covered the waterside tables of a steady stream of restaurants.

  Bright blooms in colorful pots were profuse even in January. Decorated boats filled with smiling people enjoying the view floated down the shallow river.

  And music with a delightful Latin beat wafted through the air. It was the perfect place to spend a carefree January day, the blustery wind blocked by the city’s skyscrapers, the noon sun making it seem more like spring than winter.

  Unfortunately, this was anything but a carefree day for either of them. Rachel suspected that much of what Luke was feeling was heartache. Admittedly he’d never been close to his father, and now it might be too late to ever really know him.

  Luke would have to dig deep to pull all that out and deal with it. She had no idea how to help him with that, especially with her own life in such a muddled and worrisome state.

  They walked for a good ten minutes, stopping once to enjoy the music of a sidewalk mariachi band before finally checking out a less busy outdoor café attached to a hotel farther down the river. It was quieter here. Good for talking if he felt like it.

  “How do those margaritas look to you?” he asked.

  “Cool and refreshing.”

  It was the first time they’d spoken since leaving the parked car.

  The hostess led them to a small table near the far side of the grouping of outdoor tables. They’d just ordered their drinks when Rachel’s phone rang.

  She checked the caller ID. It was Eric Fitch Sr. She killed the call.

  “An unwanted admirer?” Luke teased.

  “An unwanted ex-boss.”

  “Have you changed jobs recently?”

  “You might say that.”

  “There you go with the mysterious explanations again.”

  The waitress returned with their drinks. She set them down, but instead of walking away she stared at Rachel. “You look just like the defense attorney whose picture was on television earlier. You know, the one who’s defending Senator Covey’s son.”

  “Do I? Sorry. Not my claim to fame,” Rachel quipped.

  “Good. That guy’s guilty, sure as I’m standing here. That’s how it is with those rich bastards. They think they can do anything they want and get away with it. It even has a name now. Affluenza or something like that.”

  “If he’s guilty, hopefully he won’t get away with it,” Rachel said.

  “He killed her, all right. He’s evil. I’ve got a sense about these things, and soon as I saw him on television, I could see the evil in him.”

  An icy chill stitched itself around Rachel’s heart. She turned away. Her breathing became difficult. An unconscionable reaction, considering she was getting this from a waitress who’d never met Hayden in person.

  “Enjoy your drinks,” the waitress said, oblivious to the anxiety churning inside Rachel. “No hurry. I’ll take your food order when you’re ready.”

  Rachel bit her bottom lip hard, needing the physical pain to override the panic attack.

  Luke stretched his arms across the table and rested his hands on top of hers. “Your hands are cold as ice.”

  “I know. Give me a minute. I’ll be okay.” Her voice trembled.

  “Don’t let what the waitress said get to you. I can see how it would remind you of Roy Sales, but it doesn’t mean anything.”

  “I know.” Rachel gulped in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I’m the defense attorney the waitress was talking about,” she admitted. “I saw that same evil in Hayden’s eyes and I was only a few feet away from him.”

  “You’re defending Hayden Covey?”

  “That’s to be determined at this point. I resigned from Fitch, Fitch and Bauman on Friday afternoon to avoid having to defend him. Eric Fitch Sr. is not used to being told no.”

  “Where do things stand now?”

  “Somewhere between decayed and rotten. I thought my resignation had been accepted. Then Saturday night Senator Covey’s wife was on the news announcing that Rachel Maxwell, who had been kidnapped and held hostage by the Lone Star Snatcher, was going to defend her son.”

  “She said all that, did she?”

  “According to Sydney. I didn
’t hear it.”

  “Playing on the jury’s sympathies even before the trial begins.”

  “You catch on fast.”

  “Gotta read the enemy if you want to stay alive.”

  “More marine rules?” she asked.

  “Yep, and I’m alive. Proof it’s a good rule. What are you going to do now?”

  “Either go to the office and accept the sizable raise and offer of being named a junior partner Eric Fitch Sr. is blackmailing me with or call him and tell him what he can do with his offer. Essentially that equals wasting all the hard work I’ve put in for years and giving up my dream of one day being a partner with one of the most prestigious law firms in the state.”

  “You’re dealing with all that today and yet you’re here with me? Either you’re a glutton for punishment or I’m one of the luckiest men around.”

  “You weren’t feeling too lucky a few minutes ago,” she reminded him.

  “Everything is relative. Which way are you leaning?”

  “It changes by the minute. My plan is to drive to Houston and see if some great revelation comes to me when I’m standing at the large glass double doors of Fitch, Fitch and Bauman.”

  “I’m going with you,” he announced.

  “You have Alfred to deal with.”

  “He’s not going anywhere tomorrow. Neither is the ranch and I’m hiring help.”

  “That’s fast.”

  “The wranglers were working for Adam McElroy before he sold off half his horses this past summer. Pierce highly recommends them, and that’s good enough for me.”

  “For a man who claims to be a temporary cowboy, you are sure getting into the Western swing of things.”

  “It’s growing on me. But I didn’t mean to change the subject. Back to you.”

  “There is more,” she admitted reluctantly. And no real reason not to spill it all now that she was on a roll. She sipped her drink, appreciating the cold, tart liquid as it slid down her dry throat. “Dr. Kincaid has been calling my sister, Sydney, to get in touch with me.”

  “You lost me already. Who’s Dr. Kincaid?”

  “The lead psychiatrist in charge of Roy Sales’s treatment.”

  “Why in hell would he call you?”

  “Who knows? I’m guessing he thinks I know something that would help him pull Roy from his mental quagmire.”

  “Talk about gall. You don’t owe him anything and you sure don’t owe Roy Sales anything. Are you going to return his call?”

  “Yes.”

  She didn’t know that was her answer until it shot from her mouth. As much as she hated the thought of any involvement with Roy Sales, she needed to move on. Spending time these past three days with Luke had convinced her of that.

  She hadn’t died at Sales’s torturous hand and she wouldn’t let him win now. If she stayed trapped in the past, she’d lose the opportunity to truly live.

  As crazy as she was about Luke, she knew he might not be her forever guy, but he’d awakened feelings inside her that she’d never expected to feel again.

  Men like Luke wouldn’t come along every day, but at least she knew they existed now.

  “I doubt I have anything to say that would help Dr. Kincaid get Sales fit to stand trial any sooner,” she explained, “but it’s worth a chance.”

  She took a sip of her margarita and then took her phone from her handbag.

  “You’re going to call him right now?”

  “Yes, before I change my mind.” She punched in the doctor’s phone number. Apparently it went to his private cell phone, since he took the call.

  They barely got past the awkward small talk before he hurled the zinger.

  “It’s important that I observe Roy Sales interacting with you—in person.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Luke would have loved to hear Dr. Kincaid’s side of the conversation, but he had to make do with Rachel’s words and visible reactions. That was enough to know that the outcome of this call would not be good.

  As if on cue, dark clouds began to roll in, hiding the sun and dropping the temperature a few degrees. Patrons at the tables around them finished their lunches quickly, paid their tabs and wandered off before they got caught in a storm.

  The forecast was for a cold front to move in tonight, ushered in by heavy rain. This looked more like an afternoon thundershower. Unexpected changes in the weather were typical for this part of Texas.

  But they should probably move on themselves to be on the safe side. Not that he’d hate getting caught in the rain with Rachel.

  For that matter, doing anything with Rachel from scrubbing floors to having a water fight beat anything he’d done with anyone in recent memory.

  It had been years since a woman affected him like this—if ever. He knew he was falling too fast and too hard, but logic had nothing to do with this. He’d lain awake for hours last night thinking of how she was messing with his mind and libido.

  It was hard to be around her without touching her. Impossible to touch her and not want more. And kissing her literally left him aching to make love with her.

  All in due time. When she was ready. When she wanted him the way he wanted her. God help him if that didn’t come soon.

  She finally broke the phone connection. “That was lovely,” she said, her voice dripping satire.

  “I got the feeling it might be. From what I heard it sounded like he wants you to come and talk to him in person.”

  “For starters. Then he wants me to talk to Roy Sales.”

  Luke muttered a few curses under his breath. “Surely you didn’t agree to that.”

  “Not yet, but he’s leaving an appointment open for me tomorrow morning in case I decide to cooperate.”

  “What does he expect to accomplish by putting you through that hell?”

  “He thinks that Sales is either genuinely obsessed with me or else trying to play mind games with the doctor. He insists that it’s all part of deciding if Sales is sane enough to stand trial.”

  “The psycho was so obsessed with you he tortured and tried to kill you.”

  “Yes, but either Roy doesn’t remember or understand my captivity the way it was in actuality or he is manipulating the sessions. From what I know about him, I’d go with the latter.”

  “Exactly how does Sales remember it?”

  “That I was with him willingly, that we shared an ethereal bond. Without a doubt he’s mentally unbalanced, yet I’m convinced he was sane enough that he knew exactly what he was doing when he kidnapped me and the others. Sane enough that he knew to keep us hidden away and under lock and key.”

  “And that’s sane enough to stand trial,” Luke added.

  “I definitely agree, and if my spending a few minutes with the monster can make that happen, it will be worth the emotional strain on me. I need this to be over once and for all.”

  “Then you plan to keep the appointment?”

  “Unless I change my mind between now and tomorrow. I can stop at the mental facility on my way to Houston. It’s not far out of the way.”

  “Sweetheart, you are piling it higher and higher on your plate. Are you sure you’re up to this?”

  “No. But I’m sure I need to do whatever it takes to get my life back. I don’t expect to ever forget what Roy Sales put me through. I don’t expect the nightmares to stop completely or to never have another panic attack.”

  She shoved her phone back in her purse and stood. “Talking about it with you was a breakthrough, but only a start. I have to keep pushing out the darkness so the light can come in.”

  “I have plenty of muscle power, courtesy of the marines. If you need any help pushing, count me in—for whatever you need.”

  “Then let’s get started. No more talk of Roy Sales today. I want to think about music and flowers and the beautiful
costumed girls who were dancing on the last boat that passed by. I want to think about walking in a field of clover and horseback riding across endless pastures and along bubbling creeks.”

  Luke walked over and tugged her up into his arms. “Anything else you want?”

  “You. I want you, Luke Dawkins.”

  The first drops of rain began to pelt the umbrellas and the ledge, splashing raindrops on their heads and shoulders. Luke took her hand and they made a run for the restaurant door.

  By the time they reached it, water was dripping from Rachel’s hair and onto her forehead. He wiped it away with the palm of his hand.

  The inside dining area was a few steps up a wide staircase and opened into a small but elegant boutique hotel.

  “Would you like a table for two?” the hostess asked.

  “Not just yet,” Luke answered. “Give me a minute, Rachel. I’ll be right back.”

  His heart hammered against his chest as he walked away. One should always give a lady what she wanted.

  * * *

  RACHEL LOOKED UP as Luke sauntered back across the room. He smiled and literally took her breath away. No man should look that good.

  He handed her a hotel key.

  “What is this?”

  “Room service. We can dry off and eat comfortably.”

  “You rented a room for...”

  She stopped midsentence as the gesture sank in slowly. She’d come on to him, said she wanted him. He’d taken her at her word and rented a room.

  They were going to be alone. With a bed and crisp white sheets.

  If that wasn’t what she wanted, she’d best say so now.

  Her pulse raced. She looked up, met his gaze and melted into it. She felt no fear or hesitancy. This was Luke Dawkins. A real man. A protector. A hero.

  “I love room service,” she whispered.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Never been surer in my life.”

  By the time they reached the room, she felt light-headed, the margarita and the anticipation both hitting her at once.

  She stared at the bed, not afraid, but the moment was still awkward—until Luke wrapped her in his arms and covered her mouth in long, wet kisses that left her hungering for more.