Page 38 of Fool's Gold

Rafe put his arm around her. "Not serious, my ass. The doctor said you lost a lot of blood. And you needed stitches."

She glanced at Dr. Phillips, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. It was impossible to keep Rafe from speaking his mind. The doctor was one of Rafe's friends. What did he think of them?

Dr. Phillips scribbled out a prescription and ripped it off his pad. He handed it to her with a smile. "I want you totake this antibiotic as a precaution. Make sure you take it all, understand?"

Sarah smiled. Salty-talking, high-handed cowboys were an everyday occurrence for this doctor. "Don't worry, I will."

Rafe took the prescription out of her hand. "Don't worry, Mark. I'll see that she does."

She gave him an exasperated glance as he escorted her out of the Emergency Room. The color was slowly coming back into his cheeks. Who would have thought he would faint at the sight of a needle?

She sighed when she climbed into the rusty old pickup. They could be using her nice Jeep Cherokee. But no, Rafe insisted on rattling around in this contraption. It was a point of pride for him. Her exasperation dissipated as she glanced at him. Bullheaded or not, she owed him her life.

At least she knew she could count on him when the chips were down. If only there were some way she could repay him.

Sarah picked up a stack of plates to set the table for dinner. She turned to walk into the dining room when Rafe intercepted her. He frowned, taking the dishes out of her hands.

"You're supposed to be resting," he growled with determination.

"I did take a nap. I'm all rested." She sighed at his continuing overprotective attitude. "Rafe, you can't go wrapping me in cotton wool. What happened was just a freak accident."

Hiss jaw tightened. "You aren't supposed to do any heavy lifting, and you know it."

She let out an exasperated groan. "I don't call a few plates heavy lifting."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Well, I do." He turned and carried the dishes into the dining room.

She glared at his back. He could be so hardheaded. Sometimes, she just wanted to kick him.

She waited until Rafe was holed up in his study after dinner to go in search of Zeke. Rose was busy planning the next day’s shopping, so it was the perfect time to do what she had to do.

Lisa's statement about the rumors of Rafe's financial problems had nagged at her for days. Just how bad a shape were his finances? And Rafe's plan to sell part of the ranch to Jim Barclay only added to her concern. If anyone knew the truth about Rafe's financial difficulties, it would be Zeke.

As she walked near the bunk house, masculine laughter filled the air. She peeked through the window, and a lively card game was going on.

"You looking for someone special?"

Startled, Sarah spun toward the familiar voice.

Tab Whittacker leaned against the side of the building, smoking a cigarette. He gave her a friendly smile.

She let out a relieved breath. "You startled me."

Tab took a draw off his cigarette and tilted his head as he glanced at her through the smoke. "It's a nice night. I thought I'd take a stroll."

"Me, too." Sarah smiled. Thank goodness it wasn't Rafe. She'd have a tough time explaining what she was doing here without tipping him off.

"How's the arm?" He gave a pointed glance at her.

She patted the white bandage that covered the gouge. "I'll live. I guess I was lucky. Things might have turned out differently if Rafe wasn't around."

"I'd say you were fortunate." He pushed away from the wall and ground out his cigarette with the toe of his boot. "These hills can be dangerous for strangers."

She shuddered at the words. She'd always felt comfortable in the wilderness, but Tab's statement filled her with foreboding. "I take it you're pretty familiar with them."

He shrugged and looked toward the big ranch house. "Didn't Rafe tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

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