Worth The Price (Hart's Fall, Montana) (19 page)

Clint’s eyebrows went up. “No?”

“Danika thinks I don’t love her. There was a look in her eyes before she left. She was waiting to hear it. I’m sure of it.”

The ranch hand gave him a puzzled look. “But you don’t love her. Told me so yourself.”

“I know what I said,” Brandon growled. “I don’t want to lie to her, that’s all.”

“What’s there to lie about? Either you love the li’l gal or you don’t. It’s a simple question, Bran.”

“And what about Prescott? Even if I do love Danika, I can’t forgive and forget, pretend everything is cool. I can’t pretend I’m the same scrawny little kid who let everyone piss on him and take it with a terrified smile. Not in this lifetime.”

“What if she was right and Frank ain’t had a thing to do with them bulls being stolen? Not many women will take a liking to being saddled with a mule-headed cowboy.” Clint held up a hand. “Not saying you are, Bran, just try’na help you stay one step ahead of your missus.”

Brandon shot daggers at his foreman. “Then she’ll be stuck with an ugly, scar-faced, mule-headed cowboy won’t she?”

Danika’s hand trembled as she released the latch on the door to Brandon’s office. She’d felt horrible sneaking into the house while he was outside harvesting hay for the upcoming winter. She’d considered asking him outright for a copy of the security camera footage. That idea lasted for all but a second, before she realized it was out of the question and would only strengthen his resentment of her.

An entire week away from her husband proved more painful than she had anticipated. Danika missed him and the bed they shared. The room she was occupying above Evelyn’s café was miniscule. She rubbed her left arm, grateful she hadn’t broken the bones last night after scrambling out of her twin sized bed for what had to be her third trip to the bathroom‌—‌courtesy of pregnancy. She’d discounted the angular wall that separated the sleeping area from the bathroom and banged smack dab into it.

After pocketing the downloaded footage, she eyed the door of the bedroom in which she had experienced so many cherished memories with Brandon. She contemplated going to her husband beneath the guise of a planned visit. That idea also died a sudden death. He would take one look into her eyes and pin her for a liar. He’d never comprehend her reasoning. Moreover, she didn’t want to risk the possibility of not being able to help her father maintain his innocence, if a case was brought against him. The impromptu visit from a federal marshal two days ago had changed her father’s nonchalant attitude to one of stark distress. The worry that it was only a matter of time before the situation would take a vicious toll on his already frail body, did not make sleep come one bit easier at nights.

“Dad,” She called out after arriving at her father’s house. No answer. She tried again, this time climbing the stairs two at a time. Worry morphed into panic as she ran from room to room shouting her concern. She scoured upstairs then raced back down the staircase. Taking a deep breath, Danika forced herself to relax. Maybe he had gone for a walk, instead of driving. Yes, that had to explain why she was able to park her car next to his in the driveway.

“Dad,” she called out again, in a singsong, despite a bone chilling eeriness that curled around her entire frame.

Danika made it to the arched doorway of the kitchen. There was no need to go any further. Lying facedown on the kitchen tiles was her father. She sprinted to his side and dropped to her knees.

“Daddy, can you hear me?”

Of course he couldn’t
, she chided herself. She felt for a pulse. The breath she had been holding returned to her lungs when she felt the faint but steady beat on his wrist. Within moments, Danika was on the phone with nine-one-one. She followed the operator’s instruction and administered CPR. In what seemed like an eternity instead of minutes, she waited until the paramedics blessedly arrived.

At the hospital, the cardiologist confirmed what the EMTs had told her during the ambulance ride. Frank Prescott had suffered a cardiac arrest. If she hadn’t reached him in time and acted as she did, he might have succumbed to heart failure.

After she had spoken with the doctor, Danika slumped into an uncomfortable plastic chair in the visitor’s lounge. She rested her head on her knees and prayed for the trembling that wracked her body to cease. Feeling lonelier than ever, she did the only thing possible‌—‌reached for the phone and dialed the one person in the world whose voice could assuage her despair.

On the first ring, Brandon answered the call. He’d barely said “hello” before she blurted the entire episode, her voice cracking at the end from exertion and sorrow.

“I’m coming over.”

And just like that, she dissolved into sobs. It was too hard being away from Brandon. She wanted to return home to the Bar S. With him.

Some minutes later after being given the go ahead by one of the nurses, that it was okay to visit her father’s bedside, Danika found herself running headlong into a brick house frame. She didn’t have to look up to know who it was. The smell of him, so masculine and earthy made her heart do a backflip with joy. She threw her arms around him as if he was an anchor tethering her to the ground.

“I thought he was dead,” she cried into his chest.

“Shh.” He smoothed back her hair. “He’ll be fine,
Cailín
. You saved his life.”

Danika nestled into his embrace then felt a sudden tap on her back. It was the nurse she’d previously spoken with. “Mrs. Sharpe. You should go on in before Dr. Hassan comes to check on him.”

Danika paused to scope Brandon’s reaction. She was unsure of the limits to his sympathy.

“Are you…” He placed his hand in hers before she could finish the question.

“Thank you, Brandon.” She blotted away the tears on her cheek.

He issued her a comforting smile. “He’s your father, Danika. I don’t want him taken away from you.” She bit her lip to keep from reminding Brandon that he did indeed want exactly that.

Inside the recovery room, her father was lying on the bed, eyes closed with an oxygen tube attached to his nostrils. She tried not to focus her attention on the machine monitoring his vital signs. It was too much of a reminder that he was still in a fragile state and a heartbeat away from touch and go.

She took a seat beside the restrictive bed, making a lukewarm attempt at humor. “See, Daddy. I bet Mama is having a blast enjoying her peace and quiet. She wasn’t ready to see you just yet.” She turned to Brandon, who was standing by the wall observing her. Danika hoped he felt some form of sympathy even a bit of guilt for bringing the stress on her father.

“Look at him, Brandon. I swear to you, he had nothing to do with the theft. Please tell me you’re going to give up this vendetta. He won’t survive if you go after him.”

His jaw tautened. “Is this really the best time to mount a defense with your old man lying on that bed?”

She blinked. “Why not? This is what it boils down to. He’s lying on that bed because of the toll your accusation is taking on him. Don’t you get it Brandon? Dad knew he would be arrested. That’s what caused all of this. Last night his lawyer called to warn him that a warrant for his arrest was going to be issued. Because of you my father will soon be sitting in a jail cell if he doesn’t die. If you keep pushing, he won’t live much longer. Then I’ll be without both of my parents. Will his death make you satisfied?”

“Are you implying it will be my fault if Prescott doesn’t make it through? Think hard on your answer, wife.”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying at all. All I’m saying is if you…” She paused to catch her breath. “If you care about me at all, you’ll promise to back off and leave my father out of the investigation.”

A harsh sound grated from his throat. “Would that also include me ignoring the fact that you sneaked onto the ranch without stopping to see your dear husband? I didn’t go to college like you or have some fancy education, but I’m not simple. I know when someone’s been inside my office.”

Brandon hadn’t planned on mentioning her deceit. They were inside her father’s hospital room for God’s sakes. When her eyelids lowered in shame, he knew without a shadow of doubt she had been the one inside his office. In spite of his bravado of being all-knowing, if Danika hadn’t forgotten to close out of the security program, he would have been none the wiser of her escapade onto the ranch and inside the house.

“You surprise me,” he said. “I never expected you of all people to trick me. Stupid Brandon, eh?”

She gave her father’s limp hand a squeeze then rose quietly from the chair. Ever considerate of Prescott, Brandon thought in disgust. “You’re right. This isn’t the place to talk about it. We shouldn’t have this discussion full stop,” he added, holding the door open. “I’m going back to the ranch.”

Her eyes were glossy with unshed teardrops. “I don’t think you’re stupid at all. Stubborn, never stupid. Is it so wrong of me to try to spare my father the heartache of being branded a criminal when I know he’s far from it?”

In a way, he respected her loyalty, but why couldn’t she reserve that ironclad loyalty for him alone? Envy slithered through his blood, causing him to lash out. “Because Prescott is lying on that bed, he’s suddenly a martyr in your eyes. I see you’ve quickly forgotten how easy it was for him to give you the boot. He didn’t care if you had a place to sleep at nights. But that’s all right, ’cause he’s dear old daddy, right? For two and a half years your da tried to scheme his way into taking my land. He has half the town believing I’m squatting on property that’s not rightfully mine. That I fucked with his car and caused him to miss the auction. Where’s the righteous anger for your husband, Danika?”

“I didn’t know.” Her hand shot out to flatten against the wall as if she needed the support. “I mean, I knew about some of it, that he believed you cheated him out of the bid. I swear to you, Brandon he never told me the details. I didn’t know about any of the tales or whatever it was my father concocted about you, for people to think you were anything but a hardworking rancher.” She stared at him and shook her head. “I…I just thought most of them were afraid or leery of you because of…because of the way you look. There were always crazy stories going around of how—” She stopped in midsentence and hung her head a fraction lower. “I’m sorry. I suppose I should have known, seeing as how my father continued to blame you well after our marriage.”

Brandon folded his arms, unperturbed by the sight of her distress. “You can cut the act and save the tears for when your da wakes up.”

“It’s not an act. Since we’ve been together I’ve never lied or been dishonest with you, and it’s all because of how I feel about you. I love you, Brandon. I only wish I’d had the courage to say it sooner.”

Brandon froze in his spot. Danika had just said the words he had waited his entire life to hear from another living person. Something was wrong, though. It was all too… perfect. His brows furrowed. Why now, when he had lost trust in her? He refused to fall for the trap she was setting.

“You want to know if I love you too?” he asked. She nodded as a single tear rolled past her cheek

“What happens if I say I love you?” She stared at him in confusion. “You’re a female. I hadn’t given you enough credit for how your mind works. Black, white, American, Irish, it doesn’t matter does it,
Cailín
? I can’t win, can I? So I’ll ask you this‌—‌what’s your price? What price would I have to pay to prove my love to you? Stop the sheriff from placing those cuffs on him and while I’m at it, should I take the shirt off my back and give it to you both? Anything else I missed?”

The hospital room went silent, save for a random beep of the cardiac monitor. Brandon closed his eyes and let out a strained breath. The minute he had said those final words, he’d regretted them.

Harrowing as it was, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. Another teardrop fell from Danika’s lashes. He watched her brush it away with a curled knuckle. Brandon waited for her to speak to him. Maybe she would say something equally nasty in retaliation. Remind him of how hideous he was with a mangled face. That no one else in the world would ever want or desire him. Not that he would ever want to be with anyone but her. Whatever she’d spit out, he would deserve it and a hundred times more for shaming her.