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It was all coming together. Soon he would have everything he wanted.
Natalie’s stomach clenched as she stared into the hand mirror the nurse had given her. Her left eye was swollen almost shut, and the side of h
er face was a mass of blue and purple bruises. On the second day after Slade’s beating, she looked like a character from a horror movie.
“I guess I should be thankful it wasn’t worse,” she said, laying the mirror facedown on the hospital bed.
“Yes, you should.” The middle-aged nurse, with a manner that suggested she’d seen it all, put the mirror in the nightstand drawer. “At least he didn’t crush your nose or break your jaw. You should see some of the women who’ve come in here.”
“I never expected to be one of them.” Natalie settled back against the pillows, trying to appear calmer than she felt.
“Nobody does, dear. Not the first time, at least. Your pretty face will look fine in a couple of weeks. But the doctor’s still concerned about that concussion. She wants to keep you for another day or two, or at least until the dizziness goes away.”
Natalie sighed, reached for the chilled gel pack, and laid it against her face. She had so much to do, so many things to take care of, it was maddening to have to lie here doing nothing. But Tori, who’d been a godsend, securing her house and car and moving Slade’s things outside, had insisted that for now, the hospital was the safest place for her. With Slade out on bail, there was no guarantee that any restraining order would keep him from coming after her again.
For that very reason, she’d decided not to stay with Tori and Erin. She didn’t want Slade coming anywhere near her friends. If she went back home, she could clean up the clinic and assess the damage while she healed.
Slade’s guns were still in her house, locked in his gun safe. The locksmith Tori had hired had changed the combination. Natalie had always hated guns, but when she got back to the house, she would take one out of the safe, load it, and keep it close for protection. She wasn’t sure she could pull the trigger, but at least she could use the gun as a threat.
The nurse had gone. Alone, Natalie turned onto her side and closed her eyes. Tears made stinging salt trails down her cheeks. She knew how to be strong, and she would be. But right now she only felt ravaged, drained, and destroyed.
At the click of a boot heel on the floor, her heart lurched. Her eyes shot open. For the first split second she feared it might be Slade, but as her head came around, she saw that it was Beau. He stood framed in the doorway, looking as if he’d just been kicked.
As his eyes took her in, a slow anger transformed his face. When he spoke, his voice was like cold steel. “How long did you think you could keep me from knowing?”
“Who told you?” Natalie forced herself not to flinch. She knew how awful she looked, but she wouldn’t play the victim.
Not with Beau.
“Tori thought it would be a good idea to warn me that Slade was out on bail. I couldn’t let her off without hearing the full story.”
“She promised—” Natalie broke off as she realized that wasn’t true. Tori hadn’t promised not to tell Beau. She’d only said she wouldn’t tell him unless she had to. Had Tori told him about the divorce, too?
“You can’t be here,” she said. “You mustn’t be involved in this mess.”
“Damn it, Natalie . . .” He crossed the floor, cupped her chin in his hands, and gazed down into her battered face. “What the hell happened?”
“Somebody—I don’t know who—told Slade I was with you at the ranch. Of course he believed the worst. The next night when I got home late from working, he was there. He’d wrecked the clinic . . .”
Natalie’s voice broke. Her face would heal on its own. But even if the insurance paid, restoring her precious clinic would take time and money she couldn’t spare. “I tried to call and warn you about him,” she said. “But I couldn’t get a message through. Have you been all right, Beau?”
“Me? You’re worried about me?”
“Slade’s gone crazy. He’s capable of anything.”
“I know.” He reached down and captured her hands in his big palms. “That’s why, as soon as you’re released, I’m taking you to the ranch. You’ll be safe there. There’ll be no way he can get to you.”
“And how do you think that’s going to look?” Natalie pulled her hands away and drew herself up in the bed. “You’re not in charge of my life, Beau Tyler. I’m going back home to get my clinic running again. If Slade has the nerve to show up, I’ll have a gun.”
He shook his head, as if he’d expected her reaction. “But can you shoot? I know for a fact you used to hate guns.”
“I still do. That doesn’t mean I can’t point a weapon and pull the trigger.”
“But could you shoot your husband—even if he was going to hurt you again? Natalie, you’re the gentlest person I’ve ever known.”
“Then maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do!” She thrust out her chin, forcing herself to say the words. “I can take care of myself, Beau. So go away and leave me alone!”
Seething, Beau drove back down the highway toward Blanco Springs. Today Natalie had been like a feisty little wounded kitten, hissing, clawing, and utterly vulnerable. If Slade chose to violate the restraining order, he could murder her—and likely would.
