Page 52 of Winning His Wager
“That’s…that’s Fletcher. The younger one. He’s with…me. The other man is his uncle. Bruce. That’s Bruce. He’s wanted in Wyoming. For hurting people.” She told the man in a flannel shirt who had a beautiful face and an identical twin brother right next to him. There was a third man next to him that had to be his brother too. They looked way too much alike not to be brothers.
“I’m a doctor,” the third man said. “Are you hurt?”
Dylan shook her head, fighting shaking into a thousand pieces. “But Fletcher…that man…he is his uncle. Bruce just hit Fletcher. Bruce came out of nowhere and jumped Fletcher and tried to grab me. Bruce…his uncle…he’s a wanted fugitive. From where we live. We should probably call the police. He’s wanted as an accessory to murder or something. Kidnapping. He…kidnapped my cousin recently. And people died. Please…I…”
She probably wasn’t making much sense at all here. And well, some stranger had her still lifted off the sidewalk in his strong arms.
The man slipped her to her feet again. “It’s okay. We’ll stay right here until your friend is back. I’m Grady Hiller, by the way. These are my brothers.”
“N-nice to meet you. I have identical twin sisters. Two years younger than I am. I am one of eight. All girls.”
“Funny coincidence. There are eight of us Hillers, but we come in a mix,” the other twin said. “I’m Pastor Gunn Hiller. I have a small church near here. This is Guthrie. He’s an obstetrician at Barratt County Gen. Are you sure you are okay?”
“I am. Bruce…well, he’s a really scary guy who I have encountered before. He’s involved in drug running and is wanted for child abuse and accessory to murder and kidnapping. I don’t know why he was here or why he grabbed for me. I don’t know what he wanted from me.”
Adrenaline had her shaking, right there between two tall men identical down to the last button on their shirts. But they were big sturdy ranchers—she felt almost safe. How could she not?
She had one of those of her own. If he’d just get back…
What was Bruce doing in Finley Creek now?
Then Fletcher was there, hands reaching for her. “Dylan. Come here, honey.”
“I made n-new friends,” she said into his chest when he just pulled her closer and cupped the back of her head. She leaned back. She needed to see him. “Are you okay? Did that jerk hurt you? This man is a doctor.”
“Just my pride. He almost sucker punched me. Threw damned gravel in my eye. Blinded me for a minute there.” He introduced himself to her new friends. And then they waited—she didn’t know what they were going to tell the police down here about Bruce.
Bruce was a wanted fugitive—didn’t that mean they were required to do something? If nothing else, she would call her uncle. He could get Joel involved. Surely the sheriff of Masterson County would have some influence?
Dylan slipped her hand into Fletcher’s as they waited.
The cops showed up, and some of her tension lessened when she saw the redheaded man in charge. Of course she recognized him—Detective Charlie Fields. Charlotte’s father. Charlie would know what to do now.
“Tyler, what in the hell happened here? What did you do?” Detective Charlie Fields asked. Charlotte favored him just a little especially her hair.
“Not a damned thing,” Fletcher almost snarled. He still had his arm around her waist. “Bruce is down here in Finley Creek. He almost took Dylan right off the damned street. What are you going to do about it?”
Well, no love lost between Fletcher and Charlie, now was there?
“Dylan. One of Charlotte’s cousins, right?” Charlie asked, looking at her.
Dylan just nodded.
Then they told Charlie their story.
34
Well,life had to get back to what it was. Dylan wasn’t blind to that. So two days after their trip ended, she dutifully put on her Talley Inn polo and little khaki pants and her most sensible shoes—her Wonkus McBubbles sneakers, of course—and walked into the kitchen. She had made her cowboy sticky buns for a treat the night before. He was eating two of them when she walked in. Ha! She had caught him.
“Fletcher Kenneth Tyler, we have discussed this. You are supposed to eat a healthy breakfast before touching the baked goods.” She shot him that look she had patented just for dealing with him—and womanfully ignored the sight of his naked chest right in front of her. She didn’t really have time today for a half-nekked Fletcher Tyler. She just didn’t. He’d obviously been outside already and had stripped down from his wet clothes. Well, he still had jeans on, wet from the knees down. That man—was he dripping on her clean floor again? “Fletchie…you are dripping on my nice clean floor.”
“Woman, if you do not stop calling meFletchie, I am going to kiss the utter hell out of you, just so you know. And it will lead to other things. Then you will be late, and Darcey will chomp on you again. I’ll finish this and change into dry clothes before I drive you to the inn.”
Other things? Her stomach clenched as she imagined what those kinds of other things could be. He had been making those kinds of remarks ever since the plane back from Finley Creek.
And saying how he had wasted enough time, that Bruce had proven a point. He’d refused to tell her what that point actually was, though.
She so could not figure that man out at all. She had certainly tried—one scorching kiss at a time since they’d returned. Butlifehad kept interrupting, keeping her from finding those answers.