Buchanan's Pride Read Free Page A

couch covered with a striped blanket. “I’ll get you that water.”
    When Leah came back into the room with a brimming glass and the aspirin bottle, the couch was empty. She glanced around and saw John standing by the window near the telephone. He was pale, but at least the wound on his forehead hadn’t started bleeding again.
    â€œDid you want to use the phone?” she asked. He probably had family or someone who would worry when he didn’t show up.
    â€œNo, thanks,” he said through gritted teeth. His hands were braced on the small table and she noticed that he wasn’t wearing a ring. “Look, if you’d just clean the wound and slap a bandage on it, I’d be grateful.” His voice was low and strained. He sounded like a man nearing the end of his rope.
    Leah handed him the glass and he drained half the water. “It could need stitches, or you might have a concussion,” she argued, reaching past him for the phone. “Don’t you want to report whatever happened to the sheriff?”
    He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and she froze, realizing as Duke began to bark that she’d left him outside. Her gaze locked with John’s. His eyes, she noticed irrelevantly, were hazel. Right now they were boring into hers.
    â€œAll I need is rest,” he insisted.
    Sudden fear trickled along her spine, but she refused to give in to it. Instead, she pulled away from him. “Let me go!”
    He released her instantly and stepped back. “I’m sorry.” He ducked his head. “Look, I’m not up to dealing with questions and paperwork, not tonight. Waiting until morning won’t make that much difference.”
    Automatically, Leah handed him the aspirin. She wanted to argue further, but Duke had started to raise a ruckus outside, barking in earnest and scratching at the closed door. When she let him in, the dog plastered himself to her side. A low growl rose in his throat and the hair along his spine lifted as he stared at John. Murmuring softly, Leah petted his broad head.
    Duke had been dumped at the end of her road two years ago, starving and beaten. She had nursed him back to health and now he was utterly devoted to her. “It’s okay,” she soothed, watching John as he gulped down several aspirin.
    â€œI’m sorry,” he repeated when he’d washed down the pills with the rest of the water. “I didn’t mean to—” Cheeks stained a dusky red, he spread his hands helplessly. “I hope I didn’t scare you.”
    As if she would admit it. “You didn’t. Besides, Duke will tear you apart if you try anything.” Good thing John couldn’t know the dog was all teeth but no bite. Someone in his past had abused him. Even the barn cats terrified him. They stole his food from under his nose while he shook with fear. Leah could feel him trembling now, but the man didn’t need to know that.
    Her father’s gun was in the drawer by her bed and the rifle was by the back door. She could probably get to one of them if she needed to, but she didn’t think this man was really a threat—not the way he’d flushed with embarrassment after grabbing her wrist. Not the way he sank back down on the couch now, as pale as skim milk.
    â€œI guess I can understand how you feel about calling the sheriff, but whoever hurt you is getting away. While I’m looking at your head, you’d better tell me exactly what happened,” she said. “Can you make it to the bathroom? The light’s better in there.”
    John followed her meekly and sat on the closed toilet lid. The tiny room was crowded with the two of them and Duke all squeezed into it. The dog’s presence lent her moral support, at least.
    Gingerly, Leah cleaned the wound on John’s temple with a wet cloth while he sat unmoving. As she washed away most of the blood, she was relieved to see the injury wasn’t as