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From outside came the sound of a diesel pickup, the crunch of gravel under its wheels. A door squealed open, then slammed shut. Zach stilled. Judged the distance to his bedroom, where he’d left his guns in the locked, portable gun safes on a high shelf in the closet. “You know anyone who’d stop this late?”
Dana raised a brow. “You look as if you expect trouble.”
“It’s a reflex after years of traveling to unfamiliar cities.”
“From the sound of that truck, it’s Tom Baxter.” There was a note of resignation in her voice. “He must have called my place and heard I was here.”
“Is he...a good friend of yours?”
“Since grade school.”
The guy was near her age? Zach stalked to the window and stared out into the darkness. “He still follows you around?”
“He checks up on me, yes. If I go out on night calls and he happens to see my truck, he’ll stop to see how things are going.”
“Was he in our class? I can’t place him at all.”
“He’s a few years older, and would have been in the service by our senior year.”
Older—so with luck, the guy was short, fat, and bald.
Heavy footsteps crunched across the gravel, then climbed the back steps. A fist banged against the door. “Dana—you in there? Everything all right?”
Before he could knock again, Zach reached the door and jerked it open. “It will be unless you just woke up my little girl.” He tried for a welcoming smile. “I’m Zach Forrester. Want to come in?”
“Tom Baxter.” Tall, blond, with the kind of face some women might find attractive, the man didn’t hesitate for a second. He took off his hat and stepped inside, surveyed the room and then headed to Dana. “I was out at your place, but they said you were here.” His brow furrowed. “Are you here on a vet call?”
Annoyance flashed through Dana’s eyes. “No.”
“I figured you might need some help.”
“Thanks, but everything is fine. I’m just visiting.”
Tom spared Zach a dismissive glance, then riveted his attention back on Dana. “If you’re done here, I can follow you home.”
“Thanks, but I don’t think so. I’ll be here a while longer.”
“I want to make sure you get home safely. It’s late.”
“I don’t think the lady wants to do that just now,” Zach said mildly. He sauntered back into the kitchen and leaned against the counter by the sink, folding his arms across his chest.
“This isn’t your business.”
“You’ve made it mine by coming here,” Zach said softly.
Tom glared at him, his jaw clenched and hands flexing at his sides.
He was heavily muscled but overweight, and had probably downed a few beers before showing up here. If he made it necessary, it might take more than a single move to take him down. Given the positioning of the table, chairs, and countertops, it would also take a measure of luck to avoid hurting him in the process.
“No one wants any trouble,” Zach said.
“I’ll bet you don’t.”
“Tom, for heaven’s sake! I—” Dana seemed to catch herself, then her voice softened. “Look, we need to talk. I tried calling you this morning and didn’t get through. Can we can meet tomorrow sometime?”
“But—”
She gave Zach a swift, apologetic glance, then turned back to Tom. “Go home. Have some coffee. I think I have some free time around ten o’clock in the morning. Can you stop by the clinic then? If not, call and we’ll work out something else.”
