Broken Trust. Sharon Dunn

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      “How long have I been out?”

      “About ten hours. They had to do some minor surgery on your shoulder … to extract some metal. And you have a concussion.”

      She swallowed to produce some moisture in her mouth. “It was a bomb?”

      “Yes.” Without her asking, Wyatt grabbed a cup off the tray beside her bed and placed it under her mouth. “Drink this. It’ll help. It’s just water.”

      The water soothed her throat and moistened her dry mouth, bringing relief.

      “Better?” He touched her forehead tenderly.

      This was a side of Wyatt she had never seen before. He responded to her needs even before she voiced them.

      As coherency returned, so did fear. “Eva. Where is Eva?” She lifted her head, let out an involuntary moan of pain and lay back down.

      Wyatt made shushing sounds as he rubbed his knuckles over her cheek. “She and her grandma just went down the hall to get something to eat. They should be back any minute. They’ll be glad to see you’ve come around.”

      “Is she doing okay with seeing me like this?”

      Wyatt patted her hand. “She’s handling it just fine. Your deputy has popped in a couple of times, too … not to mention half the town.”

      Christine’s heart warmed. People were like that around here.

      Wyatt paused. He pulled his hand away. “Christine, I know you don’t want to hear this, but I sent Agent Cranson over to do a prelim investigation of the car bomb. A similar type of bomb was used in a judge’s car down in Wyoming. The militia group we are after, the one Lansky is linked to, took credit for it and said next time they would make sure the judge was in it when it went off.”

      Christine stared at the ceiling. “It doesn’t make sense that this group would set off a car bomb if they are trying to hide out at a training camp. Why would they call attention to themselves like that?”

      Wyatt cleared his throat. “That’s true. We are looking into the owner of the car, trying to find a motive.”

      Christine took in a shallow breath. “Whether there’s a link or not, we need to investigate. The first thing to do would be to question Randy. He was standing by the car when I yelled at him. He might have seen something.”

      “You mean the kid you were running after in the parking lot? He has disappeared … which makes him look suspicious. Your deputy has put out an alert to all local law enforcement to be on the lookout for him.”

      A lot had happened in ten hours. Christine winced. Slicing pain in her shoulder made any kind of movement difficult. “Randy has had some petty-thievery problems. I doubt he knows anything about bomb making. I know his mother. Soon as I am out of here, we can go over and talk to her.”

      “We?”

      Still resting her head on the pillow, she turned to face him. “I know you want all the dots to connect, but I am not jumping to any conclusions. If you go over there to talk to Randy’s mom alone, she’ll clam up. Let’s face it, Green, you need me, even if you are a hotshot agent.”

      Wyatt grinned. “I suppose you’re right about that.” His expression grew more serious. “One good thing about the bomb—it gives us as agents a reason for being here without anyone thinking we are looking for that camp.”

      Christine tensed. “How many agents got called in? Swarms of feds descending on Roosevelt won’t do anyone any good. It’ll just open up old wounds.”

      “We’ve got three bomb specialists flying in, and I thought it best to use some law enforcement from a nearby county to help with the evidence gathering,” Wyatt said. “A bomb blast scares people. I think we will get the cooperation we hope for.”

      “I hope so.” She’d feel better once she could get out of this hospital bed and help facilitate the interaction between agents and townspeople. “I’ll help as much as I can to ensure things go smoothly. I don’t remember much of my training about bombs. It was kind of limited, and it’s been a long time.”

      “You ever regret not using all of that training?” Wyatt fingered the wrap on his forearm.

      “My priorities changed.” Trying to ignore the pain radiating from her shoulder, she let out a breath. “I wanted to be on the ranch with Dustin.”

      As though someone had flipped a switch, Wyatt’s jovial expression darkened. He rose to his feet and turned away. His shoulders slumped as a tense silence spiraled through the room.

      “What is it?” she asked.

      “Why didn’t you tell me Dustin had died?”

      So he had found out. “I … I just couldn’t find the right moment.”

      “Mommy.” Eva’s sweet voice came from the doorway. She heard footsteps and then Eva’s bright face was right next to hers. “You woke up.”

      She touched her daughter’s soft cheek. “Yes, sweetie, I woke up.”

      Grandma Maggie, with her sweater folded over her forearm, came and stood at the end of the bed. “So good to see you perking up.” She patted Christine’s foot.

      “Your family’s here. I’ll be going.” Hurt tainted Wyatt’s words.

      Christine easily detected that Wyatt was upset over her not saying anything about Dustin. In the course of their relationship, she’d gotten good at reading his signals. “I’ll get in touch with you as soon as I check out, and we’ll go talk to Randy’s mom. That seems like the best place to start.”

      “Your deputy can do it,” he said. “She wasn’t just caught in a car-bomb explosion.”

      His words jabbed at her heart. Was he punishing her for not saying anything about Dustin? Christine felt conflicted over the suggestion that Lisa should help Wyatt. Earlier today that had seemed like the perfect solution, but she couldn’t let her personal feelings interfere with her professional judgment. Lisa was not an experienced investigator. “I’ll be out of here soon enough. I want to handle this.” She just hadn’t been prepared for the resurgence of emotions she thought long dead. Being with him made her … afraid. She didn’t trust herself not to fall into old patterns around him.

      She couldn’t discern the look on his face as he opened the hospital-room door. He left without saying another word. She listened to his footsteps fade.

      Eva climbed into the bed with Christine.

      “Eva, be careful.” Grandma Maggie moved closer to the head of the bed.

      “I want to be close to Mommy.” Eva touched a bandage on Christine’s forehead.

      “She’s all right, Maggie.” She looked into her daughter’s sympathy-filled eyes. “Just watch the IV, honey.”

      “The doctors said you can check out in the morning.” Maggie turned toward the door. “Mr. Green certainly left in a hurry after he had been so worried about you.”

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