Vaughn and his deputies were responsible for policing the entire county, save for Tucumcari, which was the only town for a hundred miles that boasted a city-level police force. Meyer had spoken out against Vaughn during his campaign for sheriff three years ago. Apparently, Meyer and the old guard weren’t Vaughn’s biggest fans, though Rachel couldn’t remember why. Vaughn had eked out enough votes to win, but there was no denying Meyer’s sweeping influence.

And she’d shot his only child. Holy shit.

Vaughn’s other arm wrapped around her waist. His hold on her intensified, lifting her torso from the bed. His badge dug into the vulnerable flesh of her breast, but all she could do was breathe and blink.

Let this be a dream. Then Lincoln would be alive and Vaughn wouldn’t be holding her. She wouldn’t be lying in a hospital bed on observation for wound infection, with her sisters worrying in the hallway. Acid, vicious and unrelenting, ate at her stomach, but she’d take the localized pain of an ulcer any day. She’d take the ranch problems. She’d bargain with the universe any way she could if she could wake up and realize the past five hours had been a nightmare.

His fingers stroked her back. “Whatever happens, whatever Meyer threatens to do to you, you stay calm. Don’t talk to anyone, got it? Especially not the Tucumcari police. Any of them come sniffing around, you call me right away. This is my case, my jurisdiction. Don’t let them bully you.”

She wouldn’t. As soon as she stopped freaking out, she’d locate her backbone. She was going to protect herself and her family, no matter who tried to push them around. “I need to see Amy and Jenna.”

He brushed his closed lips across her forehead, then eased her to the bed. “Kellan’s out there too.”

Kellan Reed was Amy’s fiancé. Rachel hadn’t been real crazy about him when he and Amy embarked on their whirlwind romance last December, but now she was on board with his place in her family. Best part about Kellan was he took a lot of pressure off Rachel on the ranch. Over the past several months they’d eased into a comfortable partnership, dividing chores and making plans as they prepared to merge their adjoining properties after his and Amy’s July wedding.

As good a guy as Kellan was, though, he did have one flaw that got Rachel’s dander up. He was Vaughn’s best friend.

“Do they know what happened?” she asked.

“Not yet.”

“Were my sisters crying, last you looked?”

He smiled, his eyes crinkling with tenderness. “You bet.”

“Good grief.” She matched his grin. It was a relief to suspend her fear and smile at a joke like her world hadn’t collapsed in on her. “This is the perfect opportunity for them to take their drama to a whole new level of annoying.”

Quirking his eyebrow, he swiped a box of tissues from the counter in the corner and set it on her stomach. “There. At least they won’t get snot and tears on your covers.”

She almost laughed, he knew her so well. Then his question returned to haunt her—Have you ever told anyone about us?—along with the pain it evoked. Her gaze slid away.

Clearing his throat, he shook out his arms, as if he were shaking the memory of her body off his limbs. He did that most every time and she hated it. He buttoned his collar, tightened his tie, and adjusted the utility belt strapped to his trim waist. With a flick of his fingers, his radio came to life in a flurry of static and garbled words. Last on was his black Stetson. He smoothed his fingers around the brim until he got the angle just so.

He placed a hand on the privacy curtain. “Ready for them?”

At her nod of assent, he pushed the curtain to the wall and opened the door.

Rachel’s sisters burst into the room as dramatically as she’d expected, but quieter. There were no shrieking hysterics, but plenty of wringing hands and hugs and tears. God, how those two women could weep. Rachel was eternally grateful that the drama gene her younger sisters inherited from their mother had skipped over her.

Hovering over Rachel’s bed, Amy drew a deep breath and hiccupped. “We’ve been so worried. Vaughn was in here interviewing you for hours and the nurses wouldn’t tell us anything except that you were shot and in stable condition.”

“That’s all they said? Geez. They might’ve mentioned I was only grazed by a stray bullet, not shot point-blank. I feel fine. You can stop worrying.”

Jenna perched on the edge of the bed and took Rachel’s hand in hers. “You’re not fine. You’re in a hospital.” She let out a particularly melodramatic sniffle.

“Calm down, Jenna. Amy, you too. I’m not on my deathbed. I would’ve been cleared to go home tonight if the doctor wasn’t so worried about infection.”

Vaughn cleared his throat to catch their attention. “I need to get to work on the investigation, but I wanted to fill you all in on a few points first.” He was all business now, hands clasped behind his back, his expression polite and distant.

Amy and Jenna wiped their eyes and made use of the tissue box on her stomach.

Kellan said, “Whoever shot Rachel, has he been arrested?”

Vaughn’s gaze touched on Jenna and Amy, but skipped Rachel entirely. “Two of the four suspects are still at large. My deputies are running them down as we speak. As far as the two suspects Ms. Sorentino shot, their situation is complicated, being that one of them is police chief Wallace Meyer’s son.”

That got Kellan’s back up. “Hell, no. That no-count druggie, Junior, was on Sorentino Farm? I would’ve shot him too, only I wouldn’t have aimed to wound.”

Rachel huffed. “You think I was aiming to wound?”

Kellan sniffed. “Guess we got to work on your gun handling skills as soon as your arm is better.”

Vaughn held up a hand. “Whoa, there. I know you don’t really mean that, but—”

“Like hell I don’t,” Kellan said.

“—but you can’t spout off about wanting to kill people around me. This goes for all of you. Keep your mouths shut about this, and stay clear of the Meyer family and the Tucumcari police. Don’t even cross into the Tucumcari city limits until this is resolved. You need to let my department handle it. Charging the child of a law-enforcement officer with a violent felony is dicey.”

“You’re not going to let Junior walk, are you?” Kellan said.

“Trust me, K. Every last one of those men are going to pay for their crimes against Ms. Sorentino and her horse—including Junior. But there’s an order to things, and I’ve got to play it perfectly to make the charges stick.”

Kellan rubbed his temple. “I’m assuming, due to the personal nature of your relationship with the Sorentinos, you’re assigning the case to one of your deputies or your undersheriff?”

Vaughn turned and faced Kellan square-on. “No. I’m handling it.”

They exchanged a long, stony-faced look. For best friends, they sure didn’t look friendly.

“Wouldn’t that be a problem for making the charges stick?” Kellan asked in a quiet tone that was thick with meaning, like he knew all about Rachel and Vaughn’s history.

Could it be that Vaughn was talking out of both sides of his mouth, as insistent as he was that Rachel stay quiet about their affair? But whether Kellan knew or not, he made a valid point, one Rachel hadn’t considered.

Amy walked to Kellan and slid her arm around his waist. “I, for one, feel better knowing you’re taking charge of this, Vaughn. You and Rachel aren’t friendly, and you’re not on good terms with the Meyers, so there’s no conflict of interest, right?”

Rachel ground her teeth together and pushed a fist into her stomach. The ulcer was killing her. Literally eating a hole through her flesh. “Sheriff Cooper has a lot to do. We should let him get to work.”

Jenna patted Rachel’s forearm. “I think we’re missing the bigger picture here. All I want to know is, with two suspects on the loose, are we safe on our farm? We’ve got two families staying at the inn, paid up through the end of the week. Should we send them home early?”

Jenna’s question cracked the tension in the room. Rachel took a calming breath and chanced a look at Kellan and Vaughn. They’d pulled in their horns and directed their attention toward Jenna, but on further inspection, she noticed Vaughn’s shoulders had inched up another notch and Kellan’s neck had gone splotchy red.

“That valley is miles from our homestead,” Amy said. “How likely is it that Junior and his friends didn’t know whose property they were on?”

Bitch we warned you flashed through Rachel’s memory. Meyer Jr. and his friends knew exactly where they were.

“I’m not at liberty to divulge the details yet, but I have reason to believe they were targeting your farm specifically,” Vaughn said.

“Why?” Kellan, Amy, and Jenna said in unison.

Vaughn tightened his tie. “That’s what I aim to find out. For now, sit tight. I see no reason to send your guests home early.”

“I’ll stay at their place tonight, watch over everyone. But you keep us posted on any developments,” Kellan said.

“Will do. I’m going to get on with the investigation, but I’ll be close by.” He fished a business card from his shirt pocket and brushed past Kellan and Amy to set it near the hospital’s clunky phone at Rachel’s bedside without once meeting her eyes. The business card was pointless. She knew his every phone number by heart.

“One of my deputies will be on watch outside your door tonight,” he said on his way out.

She balked. “I can’t see how that’s necessary. Wouldn’t it be safer for everyone involved if your deputies were all out looking for the suspects instead of holding one back to babysit me?”