The Rancher Bodyguard. Carla Cassidy

parking space, then turned off the engine. She stared at the small structure that comprised the Cotter Creek hospital, her thoughts filled with Charlie Black.

      Six months ago, everyone in town had been buzzing with the gossip that Charlie Black had finally come home. She knew his father had died from an unexpected heart attack and had left Charlie the family ranch, but she’d assumed he’d sell it and continue his self-destructive path in the fast lane. She’d been stunned to hear that he’d closed up his practice in Oklahoma City and taken over the ranch.

      She’d met Charlie two months after her mother’s disappearance. She hadn’t told him about her mother, rather she’d used her time with him as an escape from the pain, from the utter heart break of her mother’s abandonment.

      With Charlie she’d been able to pretend it hadn’t happened. With Charlie, for a blessed time, she’d shoved the pain deep inside her.

      She’d refused to tell him because she hadn’t wanted to see pity in his eyes. She’d needed him to be her safe place away from all the madness, and for a while that’s what he’d been.

      As soon as she’d heard about William’s murder and Hope’s possible involvement, Charlie’s name was the first one that had popped into her head. All the qualities she’d hated in him as a man were desirable qualities in a defense attorney.

      His arrogance, his need to be right, his stubbornness and his emotional detachment made him a good defense attorney and would make him a terrific professional bodyguard, but he was definitely a poor bet for a personal relationship, as she’d discovered.

      That was in the past. She didn’t want anything from Charlie Black except his ability to make sure that Hope was safe.

      As she got out of her car, she recognized that she was in a mild state of shock. The events of the past three hours hadn’t fully caught up with her yet.

      She’d been at the shop when she’d gotten the call from Deputy Ben Taylor, indicating that William was dead and Hope had been transferred to the hospital. He’d given her just enough information to both horrify and terrify her.

      Her legs trembled as she made her way through the emergency room entrance. She hadn’t been able to see Hope when she’d been here before, as Hope had been undergoing the stomach pumping. Surely they would let Grace see her now.

      She told the nurse on duty who she was, then sat in one of the chairs in the waiting room. She was the only person there. She clasped her hands together in her lap in an attempt to stop their shaking.

      Was Hope okay? Who had really killed William? He’d been a kind, gentle man. Who would want to hurt him?

      She blinked back her tears and straightened her shoulders. She couldn’t fall apart now. She had to be strong because she knew this was only the beginning of the nightmare.

      “Grace.”

      She looked up to see Dr. Ralph Dell standing in the doorway. She started to stand but he motioned her back into her chair as he sat next to her. “She’s stable,” he said. “We pumped her stomach, but whatever she took either wasn’t in pill form or had enough time to be digested. I’ve ordered a full toxicology screen.”

      “Is she conscious?” Grace asked.

      “Drifting in and out. She’ll be here until the effects have completely worn off.” Dr. Dell eyed her soberly. “The sheriff is going to want to talk to her, and even with her condition I can keep him away only so long.”

      “I know. Charlie Black is supposed to meet me here in the next hour or so.”

      “Good. Deputy Taylor has been here since she was brought in.”

      Grace frowned. “Has he talked to her?”

      Dr. Dell shook his head. “Up until now Hope hasn’t been in any condition to talk to anyone. And I promised you I wouldn’t let anyone in to see her while you were gone. I’m a man of my word.”

      “Thank you.” Grace raised a trembling hand to her temple, where a headache had begun to pound with fierce intensity.

      “How are you doing?” Dr. Dell reached out and took her hand in his. He’d been both Hope’s and Grace’s doctor since they’d been small girls. “You need anything, you let me know.”

      She realized he wasn’t just holding her hand, but rather was taking her pulse at the same time. She forced a smile. “I’m okay.” She withdrew her hand from his. “Really. Can I see Hope?”

      He nodded his head and stood. “However, I caution you about asking her too many questions. Right now what she needs is your love and support. There will be plenty of time for answers when she’s feeling more alert.”

      Grace heartily agreed. The last thing she wanted right now was to grill Hope about whatever might have happened at the Covington mansion that morning. All she wanted—all she needed—was to make sure that the sister she loved was physically all right. She’d worry about the rest later.

      “I’ve got her in a private room,” Dr. Dell said, as he led Grace down a quiet corridor.

      She saw the deputy first. Ben Taylor sat in a chair in the hallway, a magazine open in his lap. He looked up as they approached, his thin face expressing no emotion as he greeted her.

      “Grace.” He nodded to her and shifted in his seat as if he found the whole situation awkward.

      She knew Ben because his wife worked part-time for her at the dress shop. “Hi, Ben,” she replied, appalled by the shakiness of her voice.

      “Bad day, huh?” He averted his gaze from hers.

      “That’s an understatement.” There were a hundred questions she wanted to ask him, but she wasn’t sure she was ready for any of the answers. Charlie would be here soon and would find out what she needed to know.

      She pushed open the door of the hospital room and her heart squeezed painfully tight in her chest as she saw her sister. Hope was asleep, her petite face stark white and her blond hair a tangled mess.

      Grace wanted to bundle her up in the sheet, pick her up and run out the door. Nobody could ever make her believe that Hope had anything to do with William’s murder.

      Pulling up a chair next to Hope’s bed, Grace fought against a tremendous amount of guilt. In the past couple of months had she been too absent from Hope’s life? Had there been things she wasn’t aware of, things that had led to this terrible crime?

      Stop it, she commanded herself. She was thinking as if Hope was guilty, and she wasn’t. She wasn’t! As soon as Charlie arrived, everything would be okay.

      A knot of simmering anger twisted in her stomach. She shouldn’t be alone here, waiting for Hope to wake up. Their mother should be with her, but she’d run from her responsibility and her family and disappeared like a puff of smoke on a windy day. Hope had been far too young to lose her mother. Damn you, Mom, Grace thought.

      Hope stirred and her eyes opened. She frowned and looked at Grace in obvious confusion. “Sis?” Her voice was a painful croak.

      Grace leaned forward and grabbed Hope’s hand. “I’m here, honey. It’s all right. You’re going to be all right now.”

      Hope looked around wildly, as if unsure where she was. Her gaze locked with Grace’s once again, and in the depths of Hope’s eyes Grace saw a whisper of terror. “What happened?”

      “You got your stomach pumped. Did you take something, Hope? Some kind of drug?”

      Hope’s eyes flashed with annoyance and she rose to a half-sitting position. “I don’t do drugs. Drugs are for losers.” She fell back against the bed and closed her eyes, as if the brief conversation had completely exhausted her.

      Grace remained seated next to her, clasping her hand even after she realized Hope had fallen back asleep. If Hope hadn’t taken any drugs, then why had the authorities found her unconscious