Page 37 of Fool's Gold

Wilson said, "That's mighty coincidental, you three being attacked where the wolves were found."

Rafe turned to look at him. "You might say that."

Wilson gave him a direct glower. "It would be a good way to divert suspicion from yourself."

Rafe took a step forward. "Why you—"

Zeke stepped between them. "Now Rafe, Bob's only doing his job."

Wilson shrugged. "In my line of work, it pays to be suspicious. Of course, it could also be someone has a grudge against you. Maybe it isn't enough they get you in trouble. Maybe they want to kill you."

Rafe turned back toward the truck. "Don't worry. I'm going to straighten it out myself. We all know who's behind it."

The sheriff said, "You wouldn't have any rash ideas, would you, Rafe?"

Rafe flashed a cool smile his way. "Who, me?"

"You don't have any proof Blackthorn was behind this," the sheriff warned. "Let me and my men take care of it."

Rafe set his jaw. "When my family is threatened, I take action."

"Be reasonable. A physical attack isn't Blackthorn's style. He'd try to run your ranch into the ground, but he wouldn't try to shoot you."

Rafe scowled at the thought, it would mean an unknown assailant was after them. At least with Blackthorn, he knew what kind of a varmint he was dealing with. He put Sarah in the truck, slammed the door, and sprinted around to his side.

"I'll take it under consideration, boys. But right now, I've got more important things to worry about."

He gunned the engine and sped off toward town.

Sarah held her breath as the emergency room doctor examined her arm. He probed the wound gently, making her wince. She glanced at Rafe, who stood grim-faced.

"You can wait outside, Rafe. I don't need you to hold my hand."

"No dice. I'm sticking with you. How's she doing, Mark?"

Dr. Phillips, a tall man with sandy brown hair and bright blue eyes, looked at Rafe. "Don't worry, your wife's going to be okay. I'll get the nurse to clean the area and then I'll put in a few stitches. What exactly happened out there?"

Rafe's jaw tightened. "Some low-down bushwhacker took some pot shots at us. Sarah got hit by one."

Mark shook his head. "Well, she's lucky he wasn't a very good shot." He turned to Sarah. "How long since your last tetanus shot?"

She flinched when a nurse swabbed the area to be stitched. "I'm not sure."

Dr. Phillips picked up a hypodermic needle. "I'm going to give you some anesthetic now. Just take a deep breath, hold still, and pretty soon, you won't feel a thing."

She bit her lip while the needle pricked her skin. She looked at Rafe and noted he was pale. Had he been hurt too?

"Are you okay, Rafe?"

"I'm fine," he said, tightening his jaw and shifting his stance.

Dr. Phillips looked over at him and chuckled. "Pal, you better sit down before you fall down."

Rafe hesitated for a moment before slumping into a chair next to the gurney.

Dr. Phillips grinned at her. "It's always the husbands that are the worse." He bent to put in the stitches then turned to Rafe. "The worst is over now, buddy. Now, all I must do is give her a booster shot, and you're out of here."

She waited for the injection, then jumped down from the exam table. She walked over to Rafe and tugged on his hand to get him to stand. "I told you it wasn't serious."

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