Royal Trouble (31 page)

"I couldn't give a shit less about your camera, you're in
my
house!" Wes shouted and followed him down the stairs.  At the bottom of the stairs, Wes grabbed the camera strap and jerked the camera away from him.  With violence in his every action, Wes snapped open the door on the side of the camera and popped out the storage card. 

"Get. Out.
Now
," he ground out shoving the camera into the other man's chest.  The card dug into his palm, as he squeezed it in his fist and glared at the man.

The woman came up behind him and said, "I'm going to sue you for damaging my equipment, and I'm calling the police.  You assaulted me and my photographer."

"You are trespassing, lady, this is Texas, and that is enough for me to shoot you.  The best thing you can do is take your man here and leave, before I do that."

"No fighting, daddy," Trey reminded, grabbing his arm.

Wes fought to corral his rampaging temper, then ground out.  "Get out, and don't come back.  If I see you again, I promise it will be through the sight on my rifle."

The woman's face blanched, and she grabbed the photographer's arm and pulled him out the front door.  Wes stood at the door and watched the pair all but run toward the white van parked at the end of the driveway.

"They tricked me and said they were Miss Leigh Ann's friends.  I'm sorry for letting them in, daddy," Trey said with regret and more than a little fear in his voice. 

It pissed Wes off to hear that fear in his son's voice.  Guilt shot through him, and then anger at the woman lying unconscious on his bathroom floor.  She had brought this garbage to their doorstep, his ten-year-old should not be responsible for protecting her from the trash she invited to follow her by being a glory hound.  It was Wes's job to protect Trey from that, and he was doing a crappy job of it right now.

"Not your fault, son...did you call grandma?" he asked as calmly as he could.

"Yeah, she's on her way."

Wes hugged his son to him, and said, "Meet her outside on the porch, and tell her I'll talk to her later."

"Okay..." Trey mumbled against his stomach.  Wes hugged him tighter, because he loved his son more than life.  He would do anything in the world he could do to protect him from the ugliness of life.  And Wes's life right now was damned ugly.

Thanks to Leigh Ann Baker. 

"I'll pick you up from grandma's house later."

"Is Miss Leigh Ann going to be okay?" Trey asked quietly.

"Yeah, she'll be fine," Wes assured him even though he wasn't sure at this point.  If she didn't wake up coherent soon, he was going to either take her to the hospital or call an ambulance.  "Go on, and I'll see you later."

Trey pulled back from him and took a step backward, then said, "Okay, daddy.  Tell Miss Leigh Ann I..." Trey's eyes glittered, his mouth opened and shut a couple times, then he finished, "Tell her I hope she feels better soon."  His eyebrows drew together and his mouth pinched.  "Tell her..."

Wes stepped forward and pulled him against him roughly. 
Don't say it, please don't say it
.  "It's okay, Trey, just go with grandma, and stop worrying.  I'll take care of her," he promised.

It was obvious to Wes that Trey was confused, Wes could see it on his son's face, hear it in his voice.  Trey cared about Leigh Ann Baker, and Wes should have never let that happen.  Worse was he let himself care about her too, and he was just as confused as his son, but he was going to fix that, just as soon as he could get Leigh Ann Baker out of their lives for good. 

Leigh Ann's mouth felt like it was lined with cotton, as she opened her eyes to look at the ceiling of a room she recognized as the bathroom in Wes Jepson's upstairs bath.  She went to sit up and moaned, then laid back on the cool tile floor.  Her body felt like it had been baked in an oven for a few hours. 

The last thing she remembered was falling asleep under the heavy canvas tarp she had pulled over herself in the back of Wes's pickup at the ranch.  It had been damned hot, and she figured if she went to sleep, she wouldn't notice as much.  Either she'd slept like the dead, or she had almost died.  That is how she felt, she thought, laying her forearm over her eyes, taking deep even breaths into her aching lungs.  Every part of her body ached, felt like she'd had a trek through the desert.

Hearing footsteps on the tile, Leigh Ann opened her eyes and saw Wes looming over her, his face angry and red, his fists clenched at his sides. 

"You need to go," he said gruffly, then leaned down to grab her arm.  "I don't need this trouble in my life."

Hurt rifled through Leigh Ann, that had nothing to do with her physical ailments.  "I'm sorry to inconvenience you by almost dying," she replied, her voice as shaky as her legs when she got them under her to stand.

"What the hell were you thinking getting in my truck and covering yourself up with a tarp in this kind of heat?" He asked her and put his hands on his hips to glare at her.

"I was thinking I needed to get the
hell
away from that ranch, and you wouldn't move your
fucking
truck, so I could do that," Leigh Ann hissed, then her hand flew to her mouth, as if she could shove the curse words back inside.  The taste of soap on the end of her tongue reminded her that she didn't curse, like it had when her mother had used it on her when she was a kid and tried one of those words on for size.

Wes snorted then said angrily, "I would have thought you'd have been up on that porch beside your mother taking your due.  Why hide when you instigated that circus?"

"I didn't--" she started and staggered back against the wall, feeling weak and wobbly.

Wes cut her off though.  "You go into a bar with a
Senator's
wife, dressed like ya'll were and have men panting after you like dogs on a bone, and you didn't instigate that?"

Indignation gripped her, but Leigh Ann fought it and remembered her actions
had
started this ball rolling.  She should never have gotten involved in that makeover, or she should have bailed out when she saw where Lou Ellen was leading them last night.

"I didn't know what was going on with her, when I gave her the makeover," Leigh Ann told him defensively, her voice raspy.  "And going to that bar was not my idea."

"So they dragged you there?  Didn't look like you were tied up to me."

"They didn't drag me, I went to try and keep them out of trouble...that didn't work out very well."  That was the understatement of the century.  Lou Ellen had been determined to stir the pot last night, and that pot had exploded all over them by the time Allison's husband had noticed they were there.

Pushing off of the wall, Leigh Ann bent to gather up her dress and shoes from the floor.  When she leaned over, blood rushed to her head and she stumbled then fell to her knees.  Sitting back on her haunches, she put her arms around her waist and took deep breaths to try and get her senses back.

"Tell it to the press, sweetheart, because I don't believe a word of it.  You went out with that woman last night to get your name back in the headlines.  You knew that fixing her up like that, and parading her in that bar would accomplish that."  Frigid and angry, Wes's eyes pinned her with hatred.

Defeat surged through her and Leigh Ann jerked her dress off the floor, draped it over her arm, then looped the straps of her sandals over her fingers.  Using a hand on the vanity, she pulled up to her feet.  "I'll be out of your hair in a minute," she told him softly.  "Thanks for the ride, and I'm sorry to get you involved in this."

"Where the hell do you think you're going to go?  The ranch?" Wes demanded and followed her out of the bathroom into the hall.

"What the hell do you care where I go?  As long as I'm not here, you're good right?" 

Leigh Ann continued down the hall, hesitated at the top of the stairs to regain her composure, then put her foot on the first tread.  Dizziness floated through her, as she moved down two more treads.  Only six more and she would have her feet on firm ground.  On the next stair though, she knew she needed to sit down, before she wound up taking the last few on her back.

"Are you okay?" Wes asked gruffly moving around her to stand below her and grip her shoulders.

"Just give me a second, and I'll be fine.  I'm dizzy."  Leigh Ann's heart was doing strange things in her chest, and she put her hand there to rub.

"You need to go to the damned hospital," he grated then the next thing she knew, Leigh Ann was in his arms, struggling to hold on as he stomped toward the front door.

"Put me down!  I think I'm just dehydrated, I'll drink some water," she protested.

He stopped at the front door, but didn't put her down.  "You need IV fluids, drinking water isn't going to cut it.  You might have had a heat stroke in the back of that truck."

"Just put me down, and I'll call Dylan to come get me," she told him.  "He'll take me to the hospital.  If someone sees us there together, it'll only get worse for you."

"Dylan?" Wes grated, his face turning an even angrier shade of red, as his arms tightened around her.

"Yeah, I'll call him and see if he'll take me to the hospital," she told him. 

Leigh Ann wasn't sure that Dylan would come and get her at all.  Or that she was capable of climbing up in his big truck.  But Dylan had helped her before, let her stay in his trailer, so maybe he would. 

At this point, Leigh Ann didn't have many other choices. 

There wasn't anyone else to help her.  Wes hated her, her mother wanted to use her, her sister thought she was a screw up, and Leigh Ann didn't have any friends. 

She was alone now.  Totally and completely alone.  Nobody gave a damn about her.  A sad thing to realize, considering her lifelong mission was to be
nice
and helpful to everyone.  Look where nice and helpful had gotten her. 

Depression settled in Leigh Ann's chest.  Wes jostled her in his arms, and Leigh Ann's arms automatically went around his neck to keep from falling. 

Opening the door, he growled near her ear, "Bullshit, I'm taking you to the hospital.  You don't even know that guy."

Wes was right, she didn't know Dylan very well, but she didn't know Wes all that well either.  Her heart seemed to know Wes well enough though.  It wiggled in her chest at the thought he might care about her just a little, because he was taking her to the hospital himself rather than let her ride with Dylan.

At this point though, she couldn't trust that organ, because she was grasping at straws that
someone
cared about her.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The door closed behind the stern-faced gray haired doctor, and Leigh Ann smoothed the band-aid over the place on her arm where he had removed the IV.  After two hours of treatment, she did feel better, but worse at the same time.  Since Wes left her at the admission desk in the ER waiting room, she hadn't seen him.

Leigh Ann didn't even know if he had stuck around to give her a ride wherever she was going when they released her, or if the drive to the hospital had been the extent of his generosity.  The point was really moot now anyway.  After they released her, Leigh Ann had nowhere to go, even if she had a ride. 

Her mother should be over the moon thrilled right now.  The fame she had always sought for Leigh Ann had happened in spades.  Everyone on the planet knew her name and face now.  The only problem was that fame came with a price.  Her image would always be associated with the fiasco at the bar.  She'd be laughed at, wherever she went.  Leigh Ann would be a social outcast, shunned and avoided, so she didn't taint the images of others. 

Like she had Senator Rooks wife, Allison. 

If she stayed around Wes, if he would
let
her stay around him, he and Trey would be dragged into the media spectacle too.  Their life would be ruined just like hers.  Leigh Ann wasn't going to let that happen.  Outside that bar in downtown Amarillo, Leigh Ann Baker, former Miss Texas, had hit rock bottom, and she was afraid it was going to take more than she had to climb back up that mountain.  Wes didn't deserve to be dragged down with her.

Leigh Ann fought the despair that tried to overwhelm her as emotion built behind her eyes.  As much as she wanted to indulge in one, pity party wasn't going to get her anywhere, but she was having a heck of a time keeping herself from going there.  With shaking hands she picked up the green scrub suit the nurse had left for her at the end of the bed and put it on.  For a woman who had been positive all of her life, who had put forth a bubbly, happy front because her mother had demanded it, and others expected it, Leigh Ann was on her knees emotionally now, not happy at all, and tired of pretending.

Sitting up on the side of the bed, Leigh Ann hesitated before standing to let her dazed brain settle.  Taking a deep breath she pushed up to her feet just as the door opened and her mother rushed inside with a reporter hot on her heels.  Energy buzzed from both women, so much energy it made Leigh Ann's head hurt again.

"Darling,
Dr
. Jepson called and said you were in the hospital," Trudy Baker said breathlessly, putting her hand to her chest in a show of concern.  It was obvious to Leigh Ann her mother was putting on that show for the reporter, because the corner of her red-painted lips quirked up with her words, and her eyes glittered with excitement.

Leigh Ann groaned because of two things.  One was her mother realized that Wes was a veterinarian, a
doctor
, which would put her on point like a dog treeing a squirrel.  The second was she realized he cared enough about Leigh Ann to call to let her family know she was in the hospital.  A doctor, no matter what kind, who cared about her at all spelled a mission to hook them up according to her mother's rules.

"I just got overheated, mama.  There's no need for the drama," Leigh Ann told her flatly and took a wobbly step toward the door.

"Wesley said you might be held overnight," her mother informed sounding almost as if she
wanted
that to happen.  "I brought Danielle with me so we could do a press release, if that was the case."  Not once had her mother asked how she felt, all she could focus on was how she could use the event for a sound bite.