Page 47 of Family Jewels

Raddy jumped. “Yeah,” he mumbled, sounding none too happy about it.

“Now get your ass out of here before I call the dammed sheriff myself,” James said, pointing toward the open back door.

Raddy’s only answer was to try and make a beeline for the door. But James grabbed him by the back of the collar and pulled him to a halt. “I think you’re forgetting something, Dyer.”

“What?” Raddy’s voice shook.

“You owe a couple of apologies. One to Muffy and the other to Rose for ruining her evening.”

Raddy looked like he was ready to protest, but James’ hold on his collar tightened, and then he gave him a good shake.

“Okay!” Raddy shouted, then lowered his voice. “Muffy, I’m sorry I kicked you.” Then his gaze lifted to mine. “Rose, I’m sorry to disturb your evening, but I hope you’ll keep look—”

“Since I obviously didn’t make myself clear enough,” James said in a tone that would have scared the pee out of me if I were Raddy, “she’s not deciding tonight, and the time for pleadin’ your case is over.”

James planted the sole of his boot on Raddy’s backside, giving him a push as he released his collar. Raddy stumbled out the door.

James stopped in the doorway and glanced back at me. “I’m going to make sure this piece of trash really leaves your property. Then I’ll be back to help you make sure Muffy’s okay. Don’t move her.”

My jaw dropped, but not because of what he’d said about making sure Raddy left. What did James know about animals?

But I dropped to my knees beside her, worried that she was still flat on her belly. “Are you okay, Muff? Did that mean man hurt you?”

She looked up at me with sad eyes, then licked my hand.

I set my gun down on the dirt floor and felt down her sides with both hands this time. The only time she flinched was when I pressed on her back hip. She climbed slowly to her feet and stood in front of me.

“She’s standing,” James said from behind me. “That’s bound to be a good thing. She’s stopped whimpering, too.” He squatted to the ground in front of me, Muffy between us.

“How do you know about dogs?” I asked.

He shot me a wry grin. “I was raised on land, so I learned a thing or two, although I confess it’s been quite a few years.”

“Where’s your car?” I asked. “I didn’t see it out front, and I definitely didn’t see one for Raddy.”

A smirk crossed his face. “You think I’m stupid enough to park my car next to Chief Deputy Simmons in front of your house? And as for Dyer, he apparently has more sense than I would have given him credit for.” He glanced up. “I parked on the other end of your farm by the fields . . . next to Dyer.”

He slowly put his hands on Muffy and started palpating her sides. “Dyer got a couple of kicks in, but only one really connected.”

“She flinched when I pressed on her right back hip.”

James pressed on her hip, and she yelped and snapped at him.

“Muffy!” I admonished, but James looked up at me.

“She’s fine.” Then he moved to her belly, taking his time feeling around. When he was done, he gave me a soft smile. “I don’t think she has any internal injuries, but watch her back leg. If she doesn’t put weight on it tomorrow, you might want to take her to the vet.”

“Thanks,” I said in amazement. Never in a million years would I have expected Skeeter Malcolm—the king of the Fenton County underworld—to squat down next to my dog and give her an examination.

He gave a half shrug and got to his feet, reaching a hand down to help me up. I wrapped my fingers around his. He pulled me up, bringing my chest close to his, but he didn’t let go once I was standing.

“Do you need money?” he asked quietly, searching my face. He was a different man than the one who’d been raging against Raddy Dyer mere minutes ago. I knew this was a rare gift. Few people saw him this way. Hardly anyone knew James Malcolm could be a gentle man.

“No,” I said, staring into his soft brown eyes.

“Then why are you working for Radcliffe Dyer?”

“It’s a long story.”