it, because now that he mentioned it, one of her feet did sting rather badly. But she wasn’t about to tell him, so she watched silently as he waved the beam of light across the ground near the back of her house.
“Do you see anything?” she asked after a minute.
“Some crushed vegetation, but the dirt is bare and hard here. The window has been raised about two inches, though. We can dust for prints.”
“He was wearing gloves.”
“How do you know it was a man?” The beam of the flashlight obscured Logan’s face.
“A hunch. The hands looked too large for a woman.”
“Well, let’s get you back inside.” He shone the light on her feet again. “Can you walk?”
Ashley glared at him, even though he couldn’t see her expression. “Of course. How do you think I got out here?”
“Oh, I saw it all. Just trying to be thoughtful.”
“Well, you could at least light the path back for me.”
He held out the light and Ashley picked her way carefully around to the front. Now that her body wasn’t full of adrenaline anymore, her gaze snagged on the low-lying spiny plants and rocks. It was a wonder she hadn’t tripped on them before. “Do you think there are rattlesnakes under any of those rocks?” she asked, trying to keep her voice even.
“Nah, not now. They come out at night to hunt, so they’re more likely to be lying out in the open.”
“You’re just trying to scare me,” she said hopefully.
“No, I’m not. But don’t worry about the snakes. You’re much more likely to step on a tarantula or a scorpion.”
All those creepy pictures she had seen in the guidebook flooded into her mind. “I am?” She stopped, pulling up onto her tiptoes, as if that would help keep the spiders away.
“Sure. In fact, I think I see one right...there.” He aimed the flashlight a little off to the left, and there, scuttling out from under a bush, was the largest, hairiest black spider she had ever seen.
Every muscle froze. Except her heart, which escaped into her throat along with a tiny scream. She’d rather face down a man breaking into her house any day. The tarantula crossed out of the beam of light, scuttling straight toward them. Whether out of self-preservation or sheer terror, Ashley flung her arm around Logan’s neck and jumped.
He laughed, a rich, rolling sound, and easily caught her legs under the knees, until he was holding her against his chest. “You could’ve asked me to carry you.”
“I...I,” she stammered, her cheeks burning. “I hate spiders.”
“Why exactly did you come to Big Bend, then?”
“That is the question, isn’t it?”
The scent of pine trees and flannel emanated from his shirt, making her want to burrow into his arms for safety. She swallowed. What was wrong with her?
“I take it you haven’t gotten back more of your memories yet?” Logan carried her around to the front of the house.
Why, yes, she had.
But until she learned why she was here and whom to trust, she had to keep things to herself. It would also help to know what her file here contained—surely the Bureau had invented some history for Ashley Watson. Whatever she told Logan had to match.
“Not really. Just some vague impressions. Maybe when I remember my laptop password, I’ll figure out more.” She hated lying to him, especially since he was the closest thing to a friend she had in the world right now.
They reached the front porch and the idea of letting the handsome ranger carry her across the threshold was more than she could take. She pushed against his chest and he released her gently onto her feet. “Thanks for the lift.”
“Anytime. But—” he pointed down at her feet “—I don’t want to see those bare feet again.”
“Yes, Ranger Everett.” She gave him a mock salute.
Logan stopped in the doorway, grinning at Ashley as she flipped on a light, picked up the knife she had dropped, and walked back into her house. She had a lot of nerve—he had to give her that. But he hated to think what might’ve happened if he hadn’t come to her house when he had.
“What, exactly, were you going to do with that knife?” he asked casually.
She scowled. “Someone was breaking into my house, and you took away my gun. I needed some way to defend myself.”
“You could’ve called for help.”
“Like opened up the door and yelled?”
He shrugged. “It probably would’ve been enough.”
“Probably?” Ashley dropped the knife into the kitchen sink and then walked—no, more like hobbled—into the living room. She must have stepped on something, after all.
“You can come in.” She plopped onto her sofa and waved him into the living room. “Unless you think we’ll be giving our neighbors the wrong impression.”
He pulled away from the door and stepped inside, shutting it behind him. “No, someone tried to break in tonight. I think that warrants my being in here for now.” He sat on a chair next to the sofa. “Do you have any idea what they wanted?”
Ashley’s eyebrows pulled together for a moment but then she shook her head. “I’m not sure.”
She was keeping something from him, no question. Was it something she’d found today? Or remembered? And how to get it out of her? He ran a hand across his chin.
“It bothers me to think about you staying here alone,” he said finally. “Maybe we should see about getting you into an apartment or staying with one of the families for tonight.”
“No, I want to stay here. If he’s stupid enough to come back, I want to see who it is.”
He hadn’t expected anything else. So much for worrying about giving the neighbors the wrong impression. Logan wasn’t going to let her stay here alone. “Then I’m going to sleep on your sofa.”
She leveled her dark brown eyes at him, as if weighing whether it was worth a battle. “Fine,” she relented. “Suit yourself. But only for tonight, until I get my gun back.”
“Agreed, on one condition.”
“What?”
He pointed to her feet. “You let me check those for cactus spines.”
Ashley frowned, pulling one foot up onto the opposite knee and leaning over to examine it. “I can do it myself.”
Logan ran his hands through his hair. This woman was going to be a whole lot of trouble. “Is there a reason you can’t accept my help?”
Maybe he was imagining things, but he could swear a pink tinge crept into those pale cheeks.
“You don’t have to keep rescuing me.” She stared at her foot. “I can pull my own weight.”
“Ah.” He waited until she looked up again. “You’re afraid I’ll think less of you.”
She didn’t say anything, but her cheeks turned a shade darker and she averted her eyes. She seemed so down-to-earth, so natural, sitting there with no makeup and her hair loosely pulled back. Unaware of how pretty she was.
“Ashley, I don’t know why you’re here, or how qualified or experienced you are, but I do know this—accepting help in a place like this is not a sign of weakness. The rangers here work as a team and we support each other. You and