Protecting Peggy by Maggie Price

spreading fast, like it always does.”
    â€œYes. A couple of the counselors got sick, too.” As he spoke, Blake knocked a fist lightly against the chair’s arm. “I should have figured out the connection to the water sooner.”
    â€œThe doctor thought it was the flu. From the sound of things, everyone else did, too. I don’t know why you should have thought any different.”
    â€œI’m director of Hopechest Ranch. That makes me responsible for everyone who steps foot on this property.”
    â€œThat’s a big responsibility for one man to shoulder.”
    â€œYeah.” Blake blew out a breath. “Anyway, afterabout a week, it dawned on me that the only people getting sick were those who live or work on Hopechest Ranch. Some of my employees live in downtown Prosperino, others on the Crooked Arrow Indian Reservation, which borders the ranch’s land. Some of the staff who live here drive into downtown daily to buy supplies. It kept nagging at me that if a rampaging flu was what was making the ranch’s people sick, surely it would have spread to the town or the res.”
    â€œOne would think.”
    â€œSo, since only the people here were sick, it stood to reason that the cause was something on the ranch. I thought maybe it could be low levels of carbon monoxide poisoning from a faulty heater in one of the lodges. E-coli from contaminated meat. Anthrax. Asbestos. I considered everything but the water.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œWe test it. The last time was two days before the dog and the kittens died. Everything checked out.”
    â€œSo, if the contamination was intentional, that gives us close to an exact date when it occurred.” Rory pursed his lips. “What about your water pump? What sort of filter do you have?”
    â€œA gas chlorine injector.”
    â€œSo, even if whatever got into the water had a distinctive odor or taste, the injector would have masked that.”
    â€œFor a while, anyway. But this stuff is odorless and tasteless. Otherwise, with the number of people we’ve got around here, someone would have noticed a difference in the water.” Blake leaned forward, propped his elbows on his knees and stared at the floor. “Onemorning, I got a call from a counselor at Emily’s House—that’s our dorm for unwed mothers. Five of the girls had woken up deathly ill. One was having premature labor pains. Doc Colton admitted all of them to the hospital for tests. At that point, I knew time was running out. I couldn’t wait around until someone died before I got to the bottom of this. I called the health department and the EPA.”
    â€œWhat happened after that?”
    â€œThe health department tested all the food, the heaters and the air inside all the facilities, everything. While they did that, Charlie O’Connell showed up and checked the water. Bingo, we had the source of contamination. I shut down the well. Since then, I’ve had water trucked onto the ranch.” Blake stared down at his hands dangling between his thighs. “You meet up yet with O’Connell?”
    â€œA couple of times.”
    â€œWhat’s your impression?”
    â€œThat his favorite pastime is putting the moves on my landlady.” Rory’s brows drew together, the annoyance self-directed that the comment had been the first thought to pop into his head. It sure as hell wasn’t what Blake needed to know.
    His friend’s brows lifted. “O’Connell making any progress?”
    â€œMrs. Honeywell has threatened to toss him and his belongings out in the street.”
    â€œGood for Peggy.”
    â€œYeah.” Shifting in his chair, Rory heard again the edge that had settled in her voice, pictured the heat of temper that had sparked in those compelling greeneyes when she laid down the law to O’Connell. Dangerous territory, Rory cautioned himself before steering the conversation back to