by Lisa Harris
She started praying again, something that seemed so natural.
I’ve never felt so lost, God. Never felt so scared. I need...we need Your help.
She could tell by the determined set of his chin that Griffin was still working to cut through the rope. His knife clanked onto the floor. He automatically moved his foot on top of it, blocking it from their captor’s view. Her heart stilled as she looked across the room at the men. Griffin’s back arched. She lifted up another prayer.
“What’s going on?” Max started to get up.
“Nothing... I must have fallen asleep and jerked awake. It’s not exactly comfortable sitting in this position.”
Jimmy waved him back into the chair. “Leave them be. It’s your turn.”
Max hesitated then sat before throwing down his cards.
“I’m loose.” Griffin said under his breath. “See if you can undo your hands.” He managed to scoot the knife toward her with his foot.
She leaned over and grabbed it with her fingers. The men still weren’t paying attention. Wind howled through the roof, covering up their movements, but she had to be careful.
She froze as Jimmy got up and moved toward them for another cup of coffee. But he still wasn’t paying attention to them.
A minute later she was free. She handed Griffin back the knife. Griffin nodded at her then counted to three. He stood and threw his knife, landing it with precision in Max’s shoulder. At the same time, she grabbed one of the metal pipes and swung it across the back of Jimmy’s head. He let out a groan then slumped onto the floor.
Griffin shouted at her. “Throw me the rope.”
She grabbed a length of the rope that had secured her only moments before, trying to ignore the sick feeling spreading through her. She might not remember the details of her day job, but she knew her business was helping people, not hurting them. Still, it amazed her how survival mode kicked in when her life—and the life of someone else—was on the line. It only took a matter of seconds for Griffin to secure Max while she stood over Jimmy with the pipe pressing into his back. Griffin then quickly bound Jimmy’s hands and feet, ensuring they wouldn’t get away.
“I would have thought you’d have done a better job patting me down,” Griffin said.
“You fool, Max,” Jimmy groaned, and turned onto his side. “I told you to make sure he didn’t have any weapons on him.”
Max didn’t reply, but there was something else bothering her. Blood pooled beneath Jimmy’s head where she’d hit him.
“I need to stop the bleeding,” she said.
“Fine, but hurry,” Griffin said. “We need to get out of here.”
She grabbed an old rag lying on one of the shelves and pressed it against the wounds.
Jimmy gritted his teeth. “You’re the most humane escaped kidnapping victim I’ve ever seen.”
He groaned as she rolled him over so she could get a closer look at the injury. The cut was deep, but it didn’t look like it was deep enough to cause serious, long-term damage.
“You’re going to need stiches, but you’ll live for now. From this, anyway. I’m not sure about your day job.”
“We need to get out of here, Tory. The storm sounds like it has slowed down for the moment, but it’s still not going to be easy driving through it.”
“Give me a minute...”
“We need to go, Tory. He’ll be fine. We’ll grab enough clothing to keep us warm, then get as far away as possible.”
* * *
Griffin drew in a breath and felt the frigid air fill his lungs. He couldn’t believe they’d made it this far, but he wasn’t ready to celebrate yet. Despite the storm raging outside, Jinx was on his way and the last thing he wanted was an encounter with the man. That meant what he had to focus on right now was getting Tory to safety.
He tried to ignore the pain pulsing across his rib cage and reminded himself that it could have been far worse. He was fortunate to be alive. He’d just have to put up with the pain until they got to town and he could see a doctor. The last thing he wanted was for Tory to worry about him. He didn’t have time to give in to the pain and let it slow them down.
He took the coat she handed him, then grabbed the two guns he’d confiscated. Before they left, he quickly checked the bound men one last time, not wanting to take any chances that they could get loose and be able to follow.
“This won’t work.” The man pulled on the binding. “Jinx is on his way and I promise you, he’ll track you until he finds you. And when he does...he won’t be near as nice as I was.”
“If I were you, I’d stick to worrying about what Jinx is going to do when he realizes you haven’t done your job. From what I’ve heard, he doesn’t deal well with people who don’t do what they’re told.”
Griffin took the gloves she’d collected, then checked to make sure she was going to be warm enough.
“You look like a snowman,” he teased.
The padded coat was at least two sizes too big for her.
“Very funny.”
“But a cute snowman.” He reached out and pulled the scarf up around her cheeks to cover them. “I’ll have the sheriff send someone here via snowmobile and lock up these guys. It’s going to be over soon.”
Tory nodded, but he could tell she wasn’t convinced. She was thinking that Jinx was out there somewhere, on his way. But he’d meant what he said. This was going to be over soon. And he’d ensure they won.
Stepping outside was like entering a frozen tundra. The snow had tapered off some, but the icy wind sent chills down his spine. It had snowed at least another three or four inches since they’d been inside the storage shed, and the snowmobile was now covered.
He handed her the brush he’d grabbed inside the door. “If you’ll start scraping off the snowmobile, I need to do a quick check before getting the engine started.”
“What about their cell phones?”
“I’m just going to smash them,” he said. “Without a passcode we can’t get into them, plus we can’t risk Jinx using them to track us. On top of that, there’s no service this far out.”
He quickly made sure the skis on the snowmobile weren’t frozen to the ground, then checked that the back wasn’t frozen. He gave the machine some gas, then cranked the engine.
Nothing.
He tried again as the frigid wind whipped through his clothes. This time the engine roared to life. He sent up a prayer of thanks, made sure Tory was settled, then took off down the snow-packed path.
She wrapped her arms tighter around his waist. “How far to the house?”
“At least twenty, maybe thirty, minutes.”
The falling snow had transformed the ranch into a winter wonderland, making him wish he could share it with her in different circumstances. Especially now at Christmastime. There were traditions he somehow knew she’d enjoy, like cutting down a Christmas tree, listening to Christmas music and enjoying his mother’s cooking.
He reined in his thoughts then quickly took his foot off the gas and slowed down. A tree with a large trunk blocked the path. He looked for alternatives, but there was no way they were going to get past the obstacle.
Griffin weighed his options. Going around meant at least an extra thirty minutes. He glanced back at Tory. Already her cheeks were bright red from the cold. He’d pulled up her scarf to cover her face better, but it wasn’t enough. He needed to get them both somewhere warm right now.
That left one option.
“There’s a fire lookout a few miles north of here, which is closer than the house at this point,” he said. “It’s not really used anymore, but last time I stopped by, there was a communication center that still worked. There should also be some food and water they keep in storage for emergencies.”
“So we could call for help?”
Griffin nodded. “Once the weather dies down,
they could bring in a helicopter to pick us up. That would be the quickest way in and out at this point.”
He started to turn the snowmobile around but the motor sputtered and died.
No... This couldn’t be happening.
The wind whipped through his clothes as he quickly evaluated the situation. He knew all too well the dangers of exposure in this weather. Even dressed in layers, they were both at risk for frostbite or hypothermia if he didn’t get them somewhere safe quickly. He was already questioning his decision to take her to the watchtower and not back to the ranch, but in this weather, he’d believed that the quicker he could get her somewhere safe, the better. And with Jinx headed this way, he wasn’t sure he had a choice.
He yanked the pull start, praying the machine would come to life.
Nothing.
His heart pounded as he jumped onto the side of the snowmobile. He had no idea how long he had before the men would manage to get loose, or when his rescue backup would arrive. No. He had to get Tory out if he intended to keep her safe.
“What’s wrong with it?” she shouted above the wind.
“The temperatures are too cold. It’s having trouble starting again.”
He turned on the choke to start...twisted the key. Nothing. He gave it some gas and the engine finally caught. Griffin blew a sigh of relief into the cold night air.
“Hang on.”
He backtracked for about a mile then headed west toward the tower. He’d told her the truth about the last time he’d been there, but that had been two summers ago, and the place had probably been neglected since then. While it had been a favorite place of theirs growing up, he was pretty sure his brothers and the ranch hands didn’t get out there very often anymore.
Memories of him and his brothers surfaced. They’d camped out in the tower more than once, roasting marshmallows in a firepit below, and waking up to see the sunrise. Even as a boy, he’d appreciated the golden glow covering miles and miles of forested land.
So much had changed over the past decade, but they’d managed to maintain the same sense of closeness and family. And things would continue to change. Liam was married, and Griffin had no doubt more spouses and grandchildren would follow in the coming years.
As for him, why did he feel so...stuck?
He kept his eyes on the path for any fallen trees or debris, worried there might not be food or a way to communicate after all this time. But he could only worry about one thing at a time. At least the place would have shelter, and he was certain it had a pile of blankets. They’d be fine for now.
Within fifteen minutes, just as he could no longer feel his fingers or his toes, the tower finally came into view, barely visible in the moonlight. He parked the snowmobile behind a large crop of bushes, thinking that with the snow covering their tracks, they should be able to stay hidden.
He jumped off then helped Tory. “You okay?”
“Yeah...” She shivered next to him. “Just cold.”
He grabbed her hand and hurried her toward the two-story structure that stood at least seventy feet off the ground on the top of a ridge. On any other day, he would have loved watching the sunrise with her. But today...
Today he just needed to make sure he kept her alive.
EIGHT
Tory climbed the steep, narrow stairs up the side of the watchtower and then stomped off the snow before stepping into the small building. Inside wasn’t warm, but at least the structure blocked the wind.
Griffin clicked on a flashlight, revealing the sparsely furnished room that held a bed, a table and chairs, and a couple of supply cabinets, all surrounded by four walls of windows. She glanced around the room with its three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view still shaded in darkness and tried to imagine the incredible sight once the sun came up. There was no doubt the scenery was breathtaking.
She stopped in the middle of the room where a round wooden table encased a large circular map.
“Do you know what this is?” Griffin asked.
“To state the obvious, a map.”
“Yes, but this is an original Osborne Firefinder from the 1930s.”
She ran her finger across the smooth top, her curiosity piqued. “What does it do?”
“It was used to find the exact location of a fire—even in the dark. Basically, it’s a topographic map with two sighting apertures that can be moved so that the fire is aligned in the crosshairs and its location determined. It’s not used anymore, but my father always loved it, and really, it’s a piece of history. The original version was invented back in 1840 by Sir Francis Ronalds in the UK.”
“Wow...there is a lot of history up here.” She glanced back at the windows. “And I can’t wait to see the view once the sun rises.”
“We need to arrange it so you’re up here on a clear day, because you’re right—” he walked over to where she was standing “—the views are spectacular. You can see for miles from up here.”
“I’d love that.”
And she would. Except she had no plans of staying that long. She knew he was trying to distract her from the reality of the situation, but all she wanted was for this to be over. Even if that meant walking away from the intriguing man standing next to her.
He clicked off the flashlight. “We have to keep any extra light to a minimum. Thankfully, the snow’s tapered off and there’s some moonlight.”
“I need the flashlight for one thing.” She pulled off the scarf around her neck and looked up at him. “Take off your coat, so I can check out your rib cage. I want to see how much damage they did.”
“I’m fine, Tory—”
“You’re not fine.” She waited for him to comply then stepped in front of him and laid her hands against his rib cage. “Take a deep breath for me.”
“Tory...”
She ignored his stubbornness and focused on listening to his breathing. She needed a stethoscope and, even more important, needed to get him to a hospital. But for now, aside from making sure a broken rib hadn’t punctured a lung, there wasn’t really anything she could do.
“Lung function doesn’t seem compromised,” she said, pulling up the bottom of his shirt, “but there is bruising on the skin, which is a sign for bruised or broken ribs. Without an X-ray, though, there is no way to know the exact damage done. Any shortness of breath?”
“No.”
“What about when you take a breath. Any pain?”
“Nothing I can’t manage.”
“It’s important you keep the pain under control, because if you don’t breathe deeply because of it, you could develop pneumonia.” She looked up at him and realized her hand was still on his chest. She quickly pulled away and took a step back. “Any other pain?”
“Besides the gunshot wound?”
She squirmed beneath his piercing gaze as she checked the wound for signs of infection with help from the flashlight. “It’s looking okay for now, but I can’t help but wonder if this is the norm and you’re always a magnet for trouble.”
He shot her a wide grin. “From what I’ve seen so far today, I’m not the only one.”
She couldn’t help but laugh as she started opening cupboard doors until she found a first-aid kit. “I’m giving you some paracetamol, then I’ll change your bandage.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You need to make sure you keep your lungs clear, which means you also shouldn’t sleep lying down. And you have to walk around every hour or so. Just until we’re able to get you to a hospital.”
“I have to say, I think being stranded with you gives me the advantage.”
Her heart fluttered and she realized she was interpreting what he was saying all wrong. He wasn’t interested in her. He was simply thankful for her medical knowledge.
“This is serious,” she said, focusing on her task, “but the good thing is that even if one is broken, no
rmally ribs are left to heal naturally because they can’t be splinted. You just need to watch for worsening pain, shortness of breath or fever.”
Tory was trying not to worry about him, but while the majority of her memories were still suppressed, she knew the risks of a chest infection and the possibility that a broken rib could puncture something. But she wasn’t going to let her mind go there. He had to be okay.
She moved to a window and stared out into the darkness, praying it would hide them from Jinx and the others until rescue came. “How high do you think we are on this ridge?”
“Over ten thousand feet—plus the stairs we just climbed.”
“That would explain why I’m out of breath.”
“The altitude is hard on some people who aren’t used to it. Why don’t you take a quick inventory of what’s here, like food, bedding and candles? I still don’t have any cell signal, but I’ll see if I can get the radio working. And while there isn’t any running water, there should be some containers of water.”
“I’ll see what I can find.”
She started through the cabinets one at a time. Supplies were definitely limited, but there was fuel for the propane lights, matches and a small stash of food and blankets. Enough to keep them warm and fed if they ended up being stuck for more than a few hours.
Static buzzed from the radio for a few seconds before a voice crackled over the line.
“Griffin? Griffin, is that you?”
“Becket.” Griffin blew out a sharp breath of relief at the deputy’s voice. “It is, and I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear your voice. We’re at the fire lookout tower north of my parents’ ranch.”
“We heard they grabbed you at the house.”
“They did, but we managed to escape. What about my parents? Are they okay?”