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  If he found out that she'd let Matt Collingsworth get to her for even a second, he'd pull her anyway. But he needn't worry. She was focused now and would make sure that Matt's masculine sexuality and piercing eyes did not affect her again.

  Her mission was to infiltrate the family and ferret out the full truth, an accomplishment that would likely destroy the Collingsworth empire and send at least some of the family members to prison for the rest of their lives.

  She'd do the legwork. A judge and jury would decide the rest.

  * * *

  "The patient's awake now, Lenora. You can go in, but don't expect her to be too talkative. That pain medication is making her drowsy."

  "I just want to say hello and make sure she doesn't need anything." Lenora knocked and then entered the hospital room where her would-be new employee lay beneath a pale blue blanket with an IV attached to her right arm. Her eyes were watchful as Lenora stepped to the side of the bed.

  "I'm Lenora Collingsworth."

  Shelly smiled and tried to push up on her elbows, giving up on the idea quickly and dropping back to the pillow. "It's nice to finally meet you, though this isn't exactly how I'd pictured the moment."

  She had a nice smile and a sense of humor. She was attractive, too, with short brown hair specked with gold, and half bangs that set off her beautiful gold-green eyes.

  Lenora placed her hand on the bed rail. "I can't believe this happened after I assured you that you were coming to a safe area. But in all honesty, I don't remember a single case of a random, drive-by shooting in Colts Run Cross. In parts of Houston, yes. But never in our community."

  "It wasn't your fault," Shelly said. "In hindsight, I should have come straight to the ranch, but it's my first visit to Texas and I wanted to do a bit of sightseeing before I began work."

  "Well, at least you got to do that. I don't want to tire you, but I wanted to let you know how sorry I am and to make certain you have everything you need."

  "I appreciate that, but I don't plan to be in this bed long. The doctor stitched me back together and is giving me antibiotics and some pain medication. He says I'll be good as new soon. I'll likely leave the hospital tomorrow."

  "Where will you go?"

  "Back to the motel, I guess. I can't expect you to provide room and board until this arm heals and I can start work."

  "Nonsense," Lenora said, relieved that Shelly wasn't planning to renege on their agreement. "You can have all the time you need to heal at the ranch. It will give you a chance to get to know Jeremiah before you start treating him. As I told you on the phone, he's a bit cantankerous since the stroke. Well, more than a bit at times, but he can be loveable when he wants to be."

  "That would be great—if you're sure I won't be imposing."

  "Not at all. I'll check with the hospital in the morning," Lenora said. "If the doctor releases you, I'll either pick you up myself or have someone else in the family do it, depending on their schedules. Whoever drives you to the ranch can stop off at the motel for your luggage. In the meantime, I'll have the housekeeper get your room ready."

  "I have my own car, still parked on the street in front of the cafe."

  "Matt had it towed to Hank Tanner's body shop once the sheriff and his men had finished examining it. Hank will keep it there until you have a chance to look at it and decide what you want done. No strings attached."

  "So the vehicle was examined?"

  "Yes, of course, dear. Ed Guerra and his department are very efficient. And don't worry about the cost of the bodywork on your vehicle. I'll cover whatever your insurance doesn't. It's the least I can do."

  "I couldn't ask you to do that."

  "I insist."

  "Thanks. That's a very generous offer, but I'm sure the insurance will handle it. I guess all I have to do now is give my arm a little time to heal. I can't wait to actually get started."

  "Just hold on to that attitude once you meet Jeremiah."

  "I promise."

  Lenora had a feeling that this was going to work out perfectly in spite of the troublesome start. The shooting still worried her, but she'd checked Shelly's references thoroughly. There was no reason to think this was any more than a random shooting perpetrated by some hoodlum who'd been high on drugs. It was the sheriff's job to take care of that.

  The positive news was that a smart, attractive woman who was unfazed by gunfire could surely handle Jeremiah. She might even be able to stir a little romantic excitement in Matt. If any man needed a woman, it was him—not that he'd ever admit it.

  Lenora found herself humming as she left the hospital. This just might turn into a very memorable summer. In fact, she was counting on it.

  * * *

  "Shot at from a passing car right on Main Street?" Incredulity colored Jaime's tone and lit up her eyes. "And just when I was thinking of moving into Houston to add a little excitement to my ho-hum life."

  "It's not funny," Lenora said. "She could have been killed."

  "Sorry, Mom. I didn't mean it that way. But you have to admit it's unusual. There has to be more to the story than that."

  "Things like this happen in big cities all the time," Lenora said. "It was inevitable it would make its way out here eventually. There's no reason to believe Shelly did anything to provoke the attempt on her life."

  Matt had known the topic of the shooting would come up sooner or later. In fact, he was surprised they'd made it all the way through dinner before Lenora had approached the subject.

  They'd gathered on the huge screened back porch, and since it was Friday, several extended family members were still sitting around catching up on the week's happenings.

  The shooting had been front and center on Matt's mind all afternoon, and the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that the best news for them would be if Shelly Lane decided to pack her bags and move right back to Atlanta. She might be totally innocent in all of this, but the odds were that she wasn't.

  "Tell me more about this woman," Langston said, after Lenora had given them the few details they knew about the gunfire incident. Langston was the oldest, the head honcho of Collingsworth Oil. He had a cabin at the ranch, but lived in Houston during the week with his pregnant wife Trish and teenage daughter Gina.

  "Shelly seems really nice," Lenora said. "And mature for her age. A lot of young women would have panicked and been ready to clear out of town as fast as they could. She only wants to heal and start working with Jeremiah."

  "How old is she?" Trish asked.

  "Twenty-nine," Lenora said. "But she's experienced and a very competent physical therapist. I checked her credentials thoroughly before hiring her."

  "Twenty-nine. Very interesting. And single, I'm guessing, since she's moving in with us." Jaime added. "And Matt's thirty-three. How convenient, not that Mom would ever play matchmaker." That brought a few laughs.

  Matt groaned. His mother had managed to manipulate him into situations with half the single women in Colts Run Cross over the last few months. He hadn't taken the bait then and he wouldn't be biting this time, either, certainly not with a city girl out here for a change of scenery.

  "This isn't about Matt," Lenora said. "It's about Jeremiah."

  His grandfather picked that moment to join them on the porch. He propped his cane against the old wicker couch and dropped to the cushioned seat. "What about me?"

  "I've hired a physical therapist," Lenora said. "She's from Georgia, but she's going to live with us and help you regain your balance and strength."

  He sputtered and muttered a few curses under his breath. "If I wanted to be manhandled by a woman, I'd have remarried."

  Trish walked over and sat down by Jeremiah. She had a way with the old codger, but then she pretty much had a way with everyone.

  "Having a live-in therapist seems the perfect solution to me," Trish said. "You never want to go to your appointments. This way you won't have to."

  "I don't go to therapy because the sessions don't do a dad-gummed bit
of good. If they did, I wouldn't be hobbling around here like some useless old man, now would I?"

  "You limp," Trish admitted. "But you could never be useless."

  I've hired Shelly Lane," Lenora said. "If you want to get rid of that cane, you'll cooperate with her. If you're too hard-headed to work with her, then it will be your loss. She's moving in tomorrow." Lenora dusted her hands as if that were the end of the matter, but that didn't mean it was.

  "Tomorrow?" Jaime questioned. "I thought this new physical therapist was in the hospital."

  Lenora kicked off her black sandals and pulled a foot into the chair with her, settling it under her full black skirt. "If not tomorrow, then the next day. She's coming here to recuperate."

  "Are you sure that's a good idea?" Langston questioned.

  "Why wouldn't it be? She doesn't have anywhere else to go," Lenora said. "Besides, it will give her a chance to get to know Jeremiah before she starts working with him."

  "Yeah, like that's an advantage," Jaime mocked.

  Matt's muscles tightened. "I know you mean well, Mom, but you can't just move her onto the ranch until we have more facts about today's attack."

  "What's to know?" Lenora asked. "She was just crossing the street and someone started firing at her. You were the one who told me what happened, Matt. That's why I went to the hospital to check on her."

  "That's the way it looked," Matt said, "and the way Shelly told it, but at this point there's no way to know she's leveling with us. The shooter could be someone she knows."

  Jeremiah swung his cane in the air, banging it into the leg of a table and sending a half-empty glass of iced tea into a wobbling dance that fortunately ended without the glass hitting the floor. "Don't know what this world's coming to, but if some sick bastard's trying to kill her, you ought to already have her out here. Can't expect a woman to take care of herself."

  "Right," Jaime said, mocking him. "What would we ever do without a man to take care of us?"

  "Let's get back to Shelly Lane," Langston said. "She's probably as innocent in all this as she claims, but to be on the safe side, I'd like to have Clay Markham investigate her before we move her onto Jack's Bluff. He's as competent a private detective as you'll find anywhere in Texas, and Collingsworth Oil has him on retainer."

  "And I say we get Aidan Jefferies to run a police background check on her as well," Matt said. "If they both clear her, then Mom can move her in with no worries." Aidan was one of Langston's closest friends and a Houston homicide detective.

  "How long are we talking about for these investigations?" Lenora asked.

  "A few days at most," Langston assured her. "Actually, they'll probably know by tomorrow night if she's had any other attempts on her life or reported any type of threats. They'll definitely know if she has a police record of any kind."

  "I guess I can live with that," Lenora said, "though I hate to tell her that I'm going back on my offer to move her out here tomorrow. And I don't like the idea of her going back to that motel all alone."

  "Have the doctor keep her in the hospital," Matt said. "I don't know why he'd object to that, as long as we pick up the tab."

  "I suppose that's an option," Lenora said. "And tomorrow's probably not the best day to have her out here, anyway, what with children from the Turnaround Program coming out for the day."

  Matt groaned. "That's tomorrow?"

  "Yes, and you promised to help with the horse riding," Lenora said, smoothing her short graying hair. "I'll give Shelly's doctor a call, but I guess I should go back into town tonight and break the news to Shelly in person."

  "I'll do it," Matt said, suddenly uneasy with his mother becoming too involved with Shelly before they had an official report.

  "Okay, but don't tell her the delay is because we're having her investigated. Just say I'm getting her room ready so that everything will be perfect when she arrives."

  Matt shrugged. "Sorry, Mom, I'm not into sugarcoating."

  "Just be nice," Lenora said. "Miss Lane's welcome to Texas has already been traumatic enough."

  "I'm always nice."

  "Compared to what?" Jaime asked. "A striking rattlesnake?"

  "Just because I'm not a pushover for a smile and a pretty face doesn't mean I'm unsociable."

  "Pretty, huh?" Jaime smiled tauntingly. "This story just keeps getting better. But I'll have to hear the rest tomorrow. I've got a date with Tommy Stevens tonight, and he should be here to pick me up any minute."

  "When did you start dating him?" Trish asked. "I thought you were back with Garth."

  "Not anymore. All he thinks about is running off to some new rodeo competition. Like at twenty-five, don't you think he'd have better things to do than try to stay on a stupid bull?"

  Matt would have thought the guy had better things to do than date Jaime. She was as fickle as a mare at breeding time. But all she had to do was crook her finger and Garth—and half the male population of south Texas—came running. He hoped someone would shoot him if he ever got that crazy about any woman.

  His cell phone rang. He checked the caller ID: sheriff's office. He walked to the kitchen to take the call. Ten to one this had to do with Shelly Lane, and the odds were even better that it was not good news.

  Chapter Three

  "What's up, Ed?" Matt asked as soon as the sheriff identified himself.

  "I just talked to Emile Henley up at the Shell Station on the highway west of town. He said a stranger in a black Ford Fusion stopped for gas at his place about an hour before today's shooting."

  "That's interesting. Did he think the man might have been drunk or high on something?"

  "Nope, just buck-snorting arrogant according to Emile. He said he tried to make small talk when the guy came inside for cigarettes, but the man just made some comment about Colts Run Cross being a hick town and stomped away."

  "Did he notice if the car had a license plate on it at the time?"

  "Said he didn't notice."

  "But he likely would have if the plate had been missing. The culprit probably removed it just before opening fire on Shelly Lane."

  "That's what I'm thinking as well. I'd be careful if I was you about moving her onto the ranch. She seems nice enough, but truth is she might be mixed up in most anything."

  "I'm in solid agreement. If it were up to me, I'd write out a check for her time and expenses and say adios, but Mom is championing her case—as if she were the only qualified PT north of the border."

  "I hear you, and your mother can be a stubborn woman at times. Can you call Miss Lane to the phone?"

  "I'd have to yell awful loud. I'm out at the ranch."

  "Isn't she there with you?"

  "No, why would you think that?"

  "I stopped by the hospital a few minutes ago to question her and the nurse said she checked herself out and told them she would be spending the night at Jack's Bluff Ranch. I figured Lenora had picked her up."

  "No, Mom's been here all evening. So have I. Shelly Lane is definitely not here."

  "This case is getting weirder by the minute."

  "Is there something more about her past?"

  "Not a lot. I ran her through the system. Everything checks out. No warrants out for her arrest. No rap sheet. Not even an outstanding parking ticket."

  "So you're thinking this might have actually been a case of random violence?"

  "Could be. There's been a rash of them in southeast Houston of late. We're less than an hour and a half out of the city so it's reasonable that some of the hoods down there might have connections up here. But then there was the gun."

  "Are you saying you found the weapon?"

  "Not the perp's, but when we were checking Miss Lane's vehicle for ballistic evidence, I found a loaded Smith & Wesson .45 in her busted-up glove compartment. It might mean nothing. Lots of women traveling alone carry high-powered pistols these days."

  "But it could mean she was afraid of someone," Matt said, "someone who followed her to Texas."

&nbs
p; "Exactly."

  As far as Matt was concerned, this was beginning to look more and more like the pretty little PT had better reasons than a need for change of scenery for taking a job so far from home. And now she'd lied about where she'd be tonight.

  But no matter what she'd told the nurse at the hospital, it was a sure thing she wouldn't be spending tonight, or any other night, at Jake's Bluff Ranch until he got to the bottom of this.

  * * *

  Fortunately for Shelly, Hank Tanner's Garage and Body Shop was on Birch, a quiet side street of mostly closed family-owned businesses less than a mile from the hospital. It should have been an easy twilight walk except that the temperature was still in the eighties and the humidity seemed higher still.

  Perspiration wet her underarms and dripped into her eyes. Worse, her arm had stated to throb. Wiping her face with a tissue from her pocket, she crossed the street and turned the corner, thankful when she spotted the sign for the garage in the next block. Her spirits lifted more when she saw her car parked at the side of the old clapboard building.

  Hopefully her weapon was still in place. The sheriff would have surely checked the damaged vehicle for ballistics evidence, but he'd have had no reason to check her locked glove compartment. But then he probably had the keys. She didn't remember giving them to anyone, but either she had or she'd dropped them when she got shot.

  Stepping over a crack in the sidewalk, she cut across the corner of the parking lot, walked around the rear of an old pickup truck and got her first good look at the extent of the damage to her vehicle.

  The whole side of the car was riddled with bullet holes. She hadn't gotten a good look at the weapon, but judging from the size and number of holes, it must have been a large automatic. Her nerves grew edgy as it hit her how close she'd come to getting killed.

  Attacked in broad daylight on the main street of Colts Run Cross. She could see why that might rouse both the sheriff's and Matt Collingsworth's suspicions, but what else could it be except random violence?

  The only people with reason not to want her here were the Collingsworths, and it was almost inconceivable that they could have learned her identity this quickly. And even if they had, a careless, open attack like this wasn't their style.