Ransom for a Prince by Lisa Childs Page A

jeans and boots. “And you’re a cowboy, too.” She turned toward her mother. “Helen was wrong. Princes can be cowboys.”
    He opened his mouth to tell her that he was no cowboy. But she was smiling up at him—a smile that lit up her whole face as if sunshine beamed right out of her eyes. And it warmed him from the outside in, straight to his heart.
    He had been right to be afraid. He was in too deep with Jessica and with her beautiful, brave little girl. He was falling for them both—and he, better than most, knew that loving someone didn’t mean that you would always be able to protect them.
    But he vowed then, as he stared down into that little girl’s smiling face, that he would try as hard as his father had. And if, like his father, he failed, he would at least die trying.

Chapter Ten
    “Helen will be all right, then?” Jessica asked again, needing assurance.
    The E.R. doctor, a young dark-haired woman, stood over the bed where an unconscious Helen lay, looking so battered and broken. “She has some broken ribs, a fractured nose and a concussion. We need to keep her for observation because of the concussion. Barring any complications, she will be able to go home within a couple of days.”
    Home.
    Alone.
    Guilt clutched at Jessica, stealing her breath. She would not be able to go home with her friend. She couldn’t take care of Helen. She and Samantha had to leave. And in the long run, that would be better—safer—for Helen to have her out of her life. Hell, it would have been better for her had Jessica left years ago, or at least weeks ago when all the royals had descended on Dumont with their media coverage and press conferences.
    She stepped out of Helen’s room and leaned against the corridor wall, trying to catch her breath. Since finding the door of the ranch house forced open, she hadn’t been able to breathe. After several deep breaths, she dug out the cell phone she’d grabbed and shoved into her pocket before Sebastian had driven her and Samantha to the hospital. It wasn’t the prince’s phone. It was the one she and Helen used on the ranch, and now she punched in one of Helen’s preprogrammed numbers.
    A gruff voice uttered no greeting, just a, “Damn, woman, you don’t need to keep checking on me. I’m fine. It will all work out just fine.”
    “Mr. McGuire, it’s Jessica. Not Helen.”
    “Jessica?”
    “I—I live with Helen.”
    “Yes, I know who you are, but why are you calling me?” He groaned. “Oh, God, the sirens…I thought they were heading to the resort, that there was more trouble with those damn royals. Guess I should have known Callie would let me know if there was a problem there since she’s fallen for one of those visiting sheiks.”
    Callie was the rancher’s daughter and the assistant to the Secretary of Foreign Affairs. She worked out of D.C. but had been born and raised at the Seven M Ranch in Wind River. It was on the other side of the Rattlesnake Badlands from the Double J.
    “This doesn’t have anything to do with the royals, Mr. McGuire.” Even though Prince Sebastian believed otherwise, she knew better. This was all her fault. “Helen’s at the hospital.”
    He audibly sucked in a breath. “She’s hurt?”
    “Yes, sir. She’ll be fine, but they’ll be keeping her a couple of days for observation.”
    “What happened? Horse throw her, or did she cut herself with some power tools?” he asked, then grumbled, “Damn stubborn woman works harder than any man I know.”
    “I know.” She could only hope to be half as strong as Helen Jeffries was. But Helen had once been like her, an abused wife. That was how, at their first meeting in town four years ago, Helen had known what Jessica had been through and how badly she’d needed a friend. “But this wasn’t an accident. Helen was attacked and beaten.”
    Curses rattled the phone. “Who did this? Who hurt her? Did Sheriff Wolf catch them?” “Not yet.”
    “I bet this has something to do