by Freya Barker
With an ear on the sounds outside my hiding spot, I struggle to get the scarf I wound around my head to hold my hair back loose, and wrap it as high up my right leg as I can manage. Biting hard on my bottom lip, I keep myself from crying out at the pain as I loop the ends and pull it as tight as I can before tying it in place.
Dark starts swimming in front of my eyes, and I will myself to keep my head in the game. I only saw the one guy, but who’s to say there aren’t more out there looking for me. My best bet is to wait until sundown and try to make my way south, toward town, under the cover of night.
Somewhere outside I hear voices, not close enough to know what they’re saying, but loud and urgent enough to recognize they’re men. So more than one. It’s tempting to think perhaps someone is looking for me, but I stop myself from hoping too hard. I don’t want to be disappointed. It’s safer to rely on myself, to rest for a bit, and make my own plans to get out of here.
My hand slides up to my distended belly and I resist probing to make sure my Little Pea is still safe in there. I haven’t felt a single movement since the encounter in my driveway. I don’t allow my mind to drift to what-ifs and settle my head back against the rock face. The best chance she has is my survival. For the first time I feel motherhood feed my determination.
Thoughts of Evan enter my silence and I feel tears burning my eyes. It’s not fair to have finally—after a mostly solitary adult life—found a man who ticks all my boxes, only to face the possibility of having my future with him cut short. I trust him, which is rare for me. I trust my brother to always want what’s best for me, even if his methods leave much to be desired. Evan, I trust not only to look out for my well-being, but with my heart as well. Hell, he’s already holding it in his hands.
The tears keep rolling as I slowly feel my strength sap away, and I try to think only of my next breath.
Occasionally I hear rustling close by and freeze for fear of alerting someone to my presence, before it moves off again. I rationally know time is ticking by, but I have no real way to gauge how much. All I can do is watch for the strips of light penetrating the dark of my enclosure to start fading and hope I can find some reserves of energy to do what I need to.
I must’ve dozed off when the sound of what has to be an animal outside startles me.
Then I hear a voice.
“Come here, boy!”
22
Evan
Jesus.
Keith is immediately on the radio.
“Ramirez, talk to me. Tony?” A second round of shots echoes off the mountain. “Fuck!” He lowers the radio just as it crackles to life.
“…kfoot. You there?…”
“I’m here. What the fuck was that all about?”
“…Suspect’s in custody but not before he did some damage…”
“Tahlula?” I ask, and Keith repeats it to Ramirez.
“…No sign of her. We’re coming out with two injured…”
“I’m going in.” I don’t wait for approval, and with a little tug on Luke’s leash, he follows. I hear footsteps behind me and turn my head to find Moose and Penelope drawing up beside me, the donkey trotting along.
I try to follow what I can see of the blood trail leading into the trees. Luke is restless on his leash, pulling me forward into the underbrush. The air still smells acrid from the fire just north of here. I don’t even want to think what we would be dealing with now if this morning’s efforts hadn’t finally paid off.
The dog growls at the sound of rustling up ahead right before Tony and one of his uniformed officers appear, leading a large, handcuffed guy wearing camo with blood running down his arm, from the dense brush. Not far behind them is a limping Trunk supported by Ouray.
Purposely ignoring the perp—I don’t trust myself to keep my hands off him—I focus on Tahlula’s brother instead.
“You okay?”
His eyes lift. “Find her,” he growls, ignoring my question.
“I will,” I promise, hoping to God I can deliver. She’s been out here for hours.
“Take this.” Ouray holds out a handheld radio to Moose, who grabs it in passing.
A few hundred feet farther in, Smokey trots off to the right and Luke starts straining hard against his leash. “Let him go,” Penelope suggests.
The moment the dog is loose, he takes off after the donkey, sniffing the ground at his feet and sometimes sticking his nose in the air. For all we know, the two are on the trail of a wild animal, but they’re our best bet and we set out after them.
It’s hard going through some of the dense underbrush, and at times we lose sight of the pair, only able to follow by the noise they make. The sudden sound of the donkey’s soft braying leads us to a break in the trees.
In the narrow clearing, Luke is sniffing around some rocks and my heart sinks. I don’t see any way a person could be hiding in the narrow space visible between those boulders, so it looks like it was an animal he was trailing after all.
“Come here, boy!” I call, but Luke doesn’t even register my voice. He’s focused and starts tugging at some brush that’s in his way.
“Look at this.”
I look to where Pen is crouching down beside a dark stain in the dirt; testing it between her fingers. “Blood.”
My eyes immediately go back to Luke, his jaws firmly clamped around a branch and his muscles straining as he struggles to remove it. The next second, I’m on my knees next to him, helping to pull it away.
“Oh my God,” I hear Penelope whisper.
I’m barely able to register the body wedged in the narrow crevice between the two boulders as Tahlula’s, when her eyelids flutter and the familiar, copper-colored eyes open on me. “Evan…”
I have to push an excited Luke out of the way to get to her and only now notice the puddle of blood underneath her.
“I’ve got you, baby,” I assure her, the blood in my own veins running cold at her starchy complexion.
Moose is right by my side as we carefully extract her from the tight space. She groans in pain when we lay her down on the ground and promptly passes out. My eyes are drawn to the belt she has fastened high around her thigh above an obvious wound. Immediately I whip my shirt off, and vaguely register Moose doing the same.
“Her foot is cold,” Penelope notes.
I roll Tahula as carefully as I can on her side and locate where the bullet entered her on the back of her thigh.
“Put pressure on the wound,” I instruct Moose, who wads up our shirts and covers both entrance and exit wounds with his massive paws, pressing hard as my hands go to the tourniquet around her leg to release it. By the time I have the belt repositioned and tightened directly over the wounds, both shirts are soaked.
“She’s losing a lot of blood.” Penelope’s worried eyes are on me.
“Gestational thrombocytopenia,” I explain. “A shortage of platelets, her blood doesn’t clot easily. We need to get her to the hospital ASAP.”
I half listen to Moose, snapping instructions for an ambulance to be at the ready into the radio, as I lift Tahlula bridal style in my arms. The much easier fireman’s hold is not an option with her advanced pregnancy, I can hardly drag her through the brush, and there’s no time to slap together something to carry her on.
Pen clips the leash I dropped on Luke and leads the way. It’s rough going, but Moose hovers close behind me, smart enough not to offer to take over, but close enough to support me if needed. I occasionally glance into Tahlula’s face, hoping to find her eyes open—but they remain closed—her skin a grayish pallor.
“Have you guys gone to carrying whole blood in your ambulance?” Moose asks.
“As of late last year,” I grind out between my teeth as I force one foot in front of the other.
“Thank fuck.”
My body is shaking with the strain when we finally break through the tree line, Moose’s hand now firmly in my back, and I could cry with relief seeing our station rig waiting in the clearing behind Tahlu
la’s house.
Blue is waiting with the gurney. “Actively bleeding. She’s lost a lot, Blue,” I tell her quickly. “Clean entrance and exit wound, but she has low platelets. She needs blood.”
She nods and we work fast to get Tahlula loaded, when Blue looks at the crowd gathering. “Who can drive?”
“I will.” Moose is already moving toward the front.
“Give me two clicks to get a line going,” she says when he gets in behind the wheel. “And you, sit the fuck down before you fall,” she directs at me with a sharp look.
Five minutes later, we’re heading down the mountain toward Mercy Hospital, sirens blaring. Blue is working on the leg wounds. I’m holding Tahlula’s hand tightly in mine, and with the other slide a stethoscope over her belly, listening closely.
“Anything?” Blue asks, knowing exactly what I’m looking for. I shake my head. “You will,” she assures me.
It’s hard to hear anything with the sound of the sirens and my own heart still beating hard, as I move the resonator by small increments over her skin. I close my eyes and concentrate, when I feel a little nudge under my hand. A moment later, there’s a bigger push and when I open my eyes, I see Tahlula’s belly ripple with life.
“There she is,” Blue says, satisfied.
Tahlula
“How’s she doing?”
“Still out,” I hear Evan answer, his voice jagged and tired.
In the background, the sound of the rapid but steady heartbeat of my baby is soothing. I can feel the bands strapped over my belly and Evan’s strong fingers entwined with mine, both giving me comfort. When a deep throbbing in my right leg breaks through my contented bubble, my hand flexes in his.
“Lula?”
“Hi,” I croak, blinking my eyes open to find his blue ones hovering over me.
“Thank fuck,” he mutters, my view of him blurring as he leans down, pressing his lips firmly to my forehead.
There are some things I want to tell him and others I want to ask, but darkness pulls me back under before I can form the words.
The next time I open my eyes, the room is dark and silent, and for a moment I panic, until I make out Evan’s shape beside the bed, his head resting on the mattress next to my hand. I reach over with my fingers and brush against his short hair, noting the strands are damp and he’s wearing hospital scrubs.
“Other than a two-second shower, he hasn’t left your side.”
My head turns to find Trunk sitting in a chair by the foot end of my bed, and my eyes fill with tears. “Hey, you,” I whisper back. A flash of white brightens his dark face when he tosses me a rare smile.
“Scared me, sweetheart.”
“I’m sorry.”
He gets up and I notice him limping when he rounds the bed on my other side to brush the hair from my forehead with his large paw. “Hush.”
“What happened to you?”
“Minor disagreement with the dirtbag who hurt you.”
“You found him?”
“Sitting in jail waiting for his arraignment on Monday.” He looks somewhat sheepish. “Not my doing. One of the cops winged him when he shot at me and he dropped his rifle.”
“Shot at you?” My voice is louder than intended and Evan’s head shoots up off the bed.
“It’s just a graze. Dumbfuck couldn’t even hit a target my size coming right at him.”
“Managed to do more than graze your sister,” Evan mumbles, lifting my hand to his lips. “Hey, beautiful,” he aims at me, his eyes soft. “How are you feeling?”
“Right now, pretty pissed,” I snap, my eyes going back to my brother. “What were you thinking, charging an armed man with only your fists for weapons?” I know for a fact my brother would not have carried a weapon. He loathes guns, has since a tragic accident many years ago left his best friend dead.
Trunk shrugs. “They’ve got me out of a pickle a time or two.”
“Dumbass,” I mumble under my breath, which Evan apparently finds highly amusing. “Don’t you encourage him.”
“Just glad to know your tongue hasn’t lost any of its bite.” He grins at me behind his handsome beard, and just like that my irritation dissipates.
“Not even a little,” I share with a grin of my own, as he leans in and kisses me thoroughly.
“Shee-it. Give a brother the chance to get out of here before ya start mauling her face,” Trunk grumbles, limping his way to the door. “I’ll tell the rest she’s awake.”
“The rest?” I ask Evan when my brother’s gone.
“Blackfoot showed up with Jaimie, Autumn’s looking after her little boy. Ouray is here, as is Blue, and Cap showed up with Sumo. Moose and Penelope have got Luke, and I sent Ma home.”
I’m stunned at the show of support. I realize they’re mostly here because of either Evan or Trunk—except perhaps Jaimie—but it feels good to be part of a tight community anyway.
“What time is it?”
“A little after midnight,” he answers, after checking the clock above the door I’d missed. His hand wanders over to my stomach, his spread now barely covering half. “She’s doing well.”
“I know. I heard her strong heartbeat earlier.” I smile at him. “They took the monitor off.”
“A little while ago. Dr. Haebe wanted to keep an eye on things for a while to make sure she was stable. You’ve been awake off and on.”
“I have? I can only remember the one time. I guess they stopped the bleeding?” I look over to see only a bag of saline solution hanging off the IV stand.
“Yeah. The wound was through and through and missed the femur by a hair. They stitched you up. Nothing that won’t heal over time.”
I test my leg and wince at the stab of pain. “Ouch.”
“I can call the nurse if you need something, but I’m not sure what they can give that won’t be harmful for the baby.”
“No. I can handle it,” I tell him firmly.
His eyes holding mine, he lifts my hand to his mouth, pressing his lips to my palm. “Thatta girl.”
“Thank you. I don’t think I’ve told you enough.”
“Don’t thank me for wanting to have you by my side at all times. That’s purely for selfish reasons.”
I focus on the warm light in his blue eyes, telling me he’s dead serious. The words I’ve shared with only one other person in my life want to escape, and I work up the courage.
“I…” Before I can finish what I wanted to say, there’s a knock at the door. “Damn,” I mutter, making Evan chuckle.
“Don’t worry,” he whispers, bending his head to brush my lips with his. “It’ll keep.”
I wonder if he perhaps knows what I was going to say as he gets up to open the door.
“I’m so sorry,” Jaimie blurts out the moment she walks in the door, almost in tears. “I had no idea.”
Confused I look over her shoulder at Keith Blackfoot, who follows her inside. “The man who shot at you is Rob Sutherland; Jaimie’s husband,” he explains, and immediately my shocked eyes return to the poor woman.
“Don’t you apologize for him,” I tell her firmly, holding out my hand, which she instantly grabs. “All this means is he’s even a bigger asshole than we thought he already was.”
“I keep wondering if I may have said something to set him off. If I somehow led him to you. What does it say about me that I wasn’t even aware he was involved with a group like that? Racists and bigots!” she spits before becoming teary-eyed again. “How could I have missed that?”
“Some things are harder to spot when they’re right under your nose,” Keith volunteers, giving Jaimie’s shoulders a squeeze. “Besides, this group he’s part of has apparently been good at flying under the radar, since even the FBI doesn’t have a whole lot of info on them.”
“Any idea why he targeted me?” I ask the detective.
“Other than the color of your skin? Not a clue. He lawyered up immediately and hasn’t said a word. Which is why I’m here.” He shares a look w
ith Evan, who gives him a nod. “My guess is his defense is going to be this was no more than a hunting accident, which is why I need to get your statement and build my case before he sees the judge on Monday. I want to make sure he doesn’t get to walk out on bail.” He produces a small recorder and clearly recites the date, time and my name, before turning it to me.
“No way it was an accident,” I state firmly. “I was right outside my door for crying out loud. Not only that, I watched him step onto my driveway and take aim at me, which is when I ran. He shot again and missed, before taking off after me. He yelled at me to stand still, called me an inbred bitch. Why do you think I was hiding?”
“If I showed you a photo lineup, do you think you’d be able to recognize your attacker if his picture were there?”
“Absolutely.”
I wait for him to produce a sheet of paper showing six men, all similar in appearance, but I have no problem picking out the bastard who shot me.
“That’s him. Number five. That’s the guy who shot me.”
23
Evan
“And?”
My mother sticks her head in the door, her eyes on Tahlula.
“I’m being released as soon as they have the paperwork ready.”
Ma and Jaimie had gone to get a coffee when the doctor came by to check on Tahlula, giving her some privacy. I wasn’t going anywhere, but she didn’t seem to mind. I wanted to hear firsthand that the baby is fine, and any special instructions Tahlula might be sent home with, since she’s coming home with me. At least for now.
Sutherland’s arraignment is today, and I want to make sure he gets safely tucked away at the La Plata County Jail instead of out in the streets on bail.
“That’s great news,” Ma says, rocking baby River on her shoulder. “And Jaimie and I were talking just now; she and the baby are going to stay with me until she gets her bearings.”