“You pinin’ for our Brook Lynn, then?”

Yes. No. Damn it. He didn’t know what was going on inside him.

Last night he’d wanted to kiss her more than he’d wanted to live free. Something about her called to him. Her delicacy, maybe. All he wanted to do was protect her. Or her stubbornness, perhaps. She did what she thought was right, refusing to back down. Or her wit, even. She’d taken his list and turned it against him.

He smiled despite The Great Hemorrhoid debacle.

“Yes, sir,” Virgil said with a nod. He patted Jase on the shoulder. “You ain’t the first, son, that’s for sure.”

How many others were there? Yes, a man would be a fool not to recognize Brook Lynn’s appeal, but Jase didn’t like the thought of other men desiring what belonged to—

Not me. Never me.

Maybe Brad.

“Sir, I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m not comfortable discussing my love life with a stranger,” Jase said. He was barely handling a discussion with himself.

Virgil waved his words away as unimportant. “Miss Brook Lynn is a special girl, and she deserves a special man. You special, Jase?”

“No, sir,” he said, opting for honesty. “I’m not.” The people of Strawberry Valley would be horrified to know just how un-special he really was.

“Well, that’s too bad.”

A feminine scream suddenly pierced the air—and it had come from inside the jewelry store.

Jase didn’t hesitate. He bounded forward, practically shattering glass as he pushed his way inside. He took in the scene in an instant. Brook Lynn was sprawled on the floor. There was some kind of small mechanical device splattered with blood resting beside her. Blood leaked from underneath her hair, down her chin, dripping on the floor.

Brad was crouched in front of her, begging to know what he should do. He was trying to help her, but Jase didn’t care. She was sobbing. He shoved the male aside and acted as her shield. She grabbed hold of his wrists, holding on to him for dear life, her eyes wide and overflowing with tears.

“What’s wrong, angel?” he asked.

A whimper of pain escaped her. She opened and closed her mouth, but words never formed. Finally, she released him to clutch at her ears.

Her ears. “How can—”

She cringed, even moaned.

“I think she needs—” Brad began, and Brook Lynn whimpered.

Jase rounded on the guy, glaring, and slapped a hand over his mouth. For whatever reason, noise hurt her right now, so there would be no more noise. It was as simple as that.

When he was certain Brad understood another word would get him hurt bad, Jase gathered Brook Lynn in his arms. She burrowed against his chest and cried quietly, her entire body heaving. He pulled the cell phone from her pocket, turned it to silent and thumbed through her address book to find her sister’s number.

Texting with such an old phone proved difficult, but he did it. One minute dragged into another, and he had to fight wave after wave of helplessness to keep from drowning. Not knowing what else to do, he carried Brook Lynn to the back of the shop, away from Brad and Virgil, who’d followed him inside the shop. When he opened the office door, the groan of hinges sent her into another fit of sobbing. He laid her on the couch, waited until she’d calmed, and tiptoed out to call the only doctor in her address book. He told the receptionist what was going on and was told he’d get a call back. He barely managed to keep his crap together while he waited.

Five minutes.

Five minutes of utter hell.

Finally, though, a nurse phoned him and he learned that he was to give Brook Lynn the sedative that would be waiting at the local pharmacy and then take her to Baptist Hospital in the city. Jase rang Beck and quietly told him to pick up the medication and bring it to the shop. Then all he could do was wait some more.

CHAPTER TEN

BROOK LYNN BOLTED UPRIGHT, unable to catch her breath or hear a single sound, a residue of panic slowly fading.

Panic? Why? She searched her surroundings for clues. A tube extended from one of her arms, ending in an IV bag. A blood-pressure cuff was anchored to her left biceps. Hospital, she realized.

Ugh. She hated hospitals. As a kid she’d spent countless hours inside sparse, sterile rooms with strangers as roommates, drugged to the max to counteract the constant, uncontrollable pain in her ears.

Her ears!

Frantic, she reached up. The moment she encountered the implants, she relaxed. They were in place and clearly working, deaf as she currently was, and though the motion caused a dull throb to reverberate through her head, like a fresh bruise in the process of healing, it was far better than the itching—and what had come after.

Once again, I’m Frankenlynn. But at least she could function.

The room was small but private, Jessie Kay sleeping in the chair by the window. The blinds were open, allowing her to see outside. Bradford pears, oaks and wildflowers surrounded a busy parking lot.

Memories flooded Brook Lynn. She’d been inside Rhinestone Cowgirl. Brad had just accepted her invitation, and as they’d made plans their hands had brushed together—masculine contact she hadn’t experienced in a very long time. But there had been nothing. No spark. No shiver of pleasure or internal tingle. Not like the mere thought of Jase often caused. Brad had leaned toward her and, afraid he was going to try to kiss her, she’d jerked away. She’d stumbled. When she hit the floor, one of her implants had ripped free.

The pain—oh, the pain. Every sound, from the whistle of wind against the shop windows to the patter of footsteps outside, had agonized her. Then Jase had arrived and...she couldn’t remember anything after that.