The Rescue Of Jenna West

by Debra Cowan

  Moving with the gurney into exam room one, he snapped to Bridget, “Get X-ray down here.”

  But she was already running down the hall, anticipating his orders before he could voice them.

  The police officer followed, planting himself in the doorway. “I’ll need to talk to her as soon as you’re finished. If she says anything—”

  “I’ll let you know.” Linc slammed the door in his face.

  Across the gurney from him, Tracy leaned down to Jenna, asking quietly, “Miss West, who should we notify?”

  “My—” Tears welled up in her eyes, seeped onto the rawlooking scrape at her cheekbone. “My parents. Dave and Barbara. On Gleneagle.”

  Tracy glanced at Linc on her way out. “I’ll call them.”

  “And Steve—” Jenna inhaled sharply as Linc touched her arm.

  He didn’t know who Steve was and Jenna didn’t—or couldn’t—say anything further at the moment. Linc focused his attention on her dilated pupils, gently examining her arm. In a distant, detached way, he realized she was beautiful. But as he worked, tamping down emotions that had roared to unsuspecting life inside him, he was uncomfortably aware that he had just allowed himself to become emotionally involved with a patient.

  And he had a distinct sense of foreboding that he might not be able to walk away this time.

  Rage crested inside him. He’d had her, right in his hands where he’d visualized her for the last eight years. And she’d gotten away.

  Deke Ramsey stood in a phone booth outside a convenience store a few miles from her clinic. The August night, thick and steamy, clung to him and sweat trickled down his temple. Gripped in his hand were the hospital listings he’d ripped from the phone book. He shook violently, grinding the receiver into his ear.

  Only a couple of hours ago, Deke’s hands had closed around her soft throat. He could still see the desperation and fear in her eyes, feel the sharp, but useless kicks she’d aimed at his legs and crotch.

  Night after night, he’d lain rotting in that cell, planning his revenge, imagining his body ramming into hers over and over as she begged him to stop.

  And she’d gotten away.

  The old man who’d raced to her rescue had paid, though.

  With his life. At that thought, Deke’s lips twisted in grim satisfaction. The fury rose up again, hazing his vision, triggering a loud buzz in his ears. So far he’d had no luck finding her, but he was far from finished.

  He shoved another quarter in the slot and jabbed in the number.

  “Mercy Hospital,” answered a cheerful, feminine voice. “Emergency.”

  Deke’s fists clenched, the paper in his hand crackling. He schooled his voice to convey just the right amount of concern and anxiety, leashing the black rage that clawed through him. “Yes, I’m trying to find a friend. I’m not sure if I have the right hospital.”

  “What’s the name, sir?”

  “Jenna West.”

  “Just a moment.”

  He’d already called the several hospitals ahead of this one as he worked his way alphabetically down the list. In the background, he could hear the staccato clicking of a computer keyboard.

  Not allowing thoughts of failure, his gaze fixed intently on the old man’s blood speckling his arm. Anticipation filtered through his hatred. This was it. He’d find her now.

  “I’m sorry, sir. We have no one here by that name.”

  Deke slammed down the phone, cursing violently, the rage straining at his lungs. It didn’t matter. This was only the first play of the game. He would call every hospital in this city and if he didn’t find her, he’d start over. But one way or another, he’d find her.

  Waves of pain ebbed through her. Red and black and blue tangled, circling viciously inside her. Images flashed through her mind. Wilbur’s face crumpled in pain and disbelief as he fell to the ground. Linc Garrett’s gray eyes, distant and remote, stared through her. Someone else—someone she didn’t want to see—leered at her.

  A soothing voice reached out to her with gentle strokes and she latched on to it, pulling herself to consciousness.

  She came awake with a start, but had no energy to open her eyes. Slowly she peeled them open, pain shooting behind her temple.

  The voice was gone, silent now. In its place was an insistent memory and the fear—nagging, mushrooming.

  Cool air swirled around her. Groggily she registered the quiet sterile room, the flimsy hospital gown, the heavy cast on her right arm.

  A monitor hummed quietly beside her. It hurt to swallow, to breathe. Her throat was raw. Her chest and torso ached as if she’d been trampled by a horse.

  Then she remembered. In a hazy surge, she recalled heavy hands on her, brutal, punishing, uninvited. But she didn’t want to remember that. She had felt other hands, gentle and soothing. Whose hands were those?

  Pressure pushed against her ribs and she tried to take a deep breath. Fear swelled in her chest, squeezing, crushing. She moved, trying to escape the fear, but it spread, locking her in a merciless grip.

  It gnawed at her confidence, erased the determination with which she’d rebuilt her life. No, she wouldn’t allow it, she thought groggily, overwhelmed by a black tide of tension she couldn’t escape.

  She was alone. But she was safe, for now.

  She held on to that thought with the last remnant of her strength. Her breathing eased and tears burned her eyes. Her gaze dragged slowly around the room. Her mouth felt thick and dry, but the razor-edge of pain was gone. Her IV beeped, dispensing more medicine through the needle in the back of her hand.

  Then she saw Linc Garrett. He sat beside the bed, his arms folded on the side rail, his head resting on his arms. She remembered then his hands moving gently over her, his voice soothing.

  She shifted and his head came up. Smoky eyes locked on hers, concerned, searching.

  He looked tired. He’d stayed. She could barely register the thoughts.

  He leaned closer. “You’re all right.”

  “No, I should—” She was swept by a sudden need to tell someone about the fear, about the man who’d assaulted her, but she felt her eyes closing. “Steve.”

  “It’s okay,” Linc murmured. “I’ll stay with you.”

  She felt herself slipping, losing control and rational thought. Her thoughts tumbled through a mass of shock and buried pain. She didn’t want to remember. She couldn’t afford not to. She wouldn’t allow Deke Ramsey to destroy her life again. She wouldn’t.

  It was her last conscious thought before the drugs claimed her.

  Linc stared down at the woman in the bed, shaking with rage. The violent marks around her throat were dusky purple in the artificial light that ran in tracks around the ceiling. Who would do such a thing to her? And why?

  Since the night Jenna had found him in the barn, he’d seen her less than a dozen times. He’d never thanked her for what she did for him. At first because he was embarrassed for making that drunken pass at her. And the real reason—harder to admit—because he couldn’t forget the horror in her eyes.

  He didn’t blame her. Even he had been sickened by his behavior that night. Well, he hadn’t had a drink since then. Not that Jenna West knew. Or cared. He stifled the impulse to tell her, as if telling her would magically heal the battering her body had taken.

  Seeing Jenna on that gurney tonight had resurrected, violently, those long-ago memories. That night in the bam was a blur of anguish and hate and a small taste of comfort. Ignoring his curses and drunken attempts to retrieve the bottle, she’d somehow gotten him into the house.

  Without once touching him, he now realized.

  Now, sitting here in the darkened room with her, he realized she’d never mentioned the incident, either. No doubt due to his behavior that night.

  Nurse Karen Jameson walked silently inside and stopped short at the sight of Linc beside the bed.

  Annoyed at her obvious astonishment over finding him there, he waved her impatiently toward Jenna. “Do what you
need to,” he said in a curt whisper.

  Curiosity burned in Karen’s dark eyes, but she stepped toward her patient. After a quick check of Jenna’s blood pressure and temperature, and a small adjustment to the IV drip, she turned for the door.

  She glanced over her shoulder at Linc. “Are you working another shift?”

  “No,” he replied, dismissing her abruptly. “I’ll be right here.”

  Karen’s gaze darted to Jenna and speculation crossed her features.

  “Good night,” he said coolly.

  She eyed him curiously and disappeared out the door.

  Linc leaned forward, resting his forearms against the bed’s metal railing. Jenna slept peacefully. Her smooth wide brow was unfurrowed, her breathing steadier now, yet her skin was chalky beneath her tan, making the bruises appear black.

  He could’ve left, and probably should have. But Tracy had been unable to reach Jenna’s parents and Linc didn’t want to leave her alone. He wouldn’t, even though he was probably the last person on earth she’d want here.

  “I’ve got to talk to her, Linc.”

  “I said no. She’s not even awake!”

  Jenna had been conscious for a few seconds, struggling to sort out the distant echoes she now recognized as voices in her room.

  She was still groggy, but not disoriented. Daylight filtered into the room, proof that she’d made it through the night. And though she wished to be waking from a bad dream, the ache in her body and the nausea in her stomach told her that her confrontation had been all too real. Having rested, Jenna could no longer dodge the memory of what had happened last night.

  Deke Ramsey was out of prison. And he’d found her.

  Now she could determine that the hushed masculine whispers just inside her door belonged to Linc Garrett and another man. With her left hand, she awkwardly fingered the bandage above her right eye.

  Her right arm lay at her waist in a heavy cast. Her throat burned and her lips felt as large as melons. For an instant, she wished she had a mirror then decided it was best she didn’t. Heaven only knew what she looked like. Her face felt like a football that had been kicked flat.

  “The longer we wait, the more headway the bastard will make.” That from the man Jenna couldn’t see.

  “Well, you can’t talk to her if she’s unconscious, can you?” Linc said sharply.

  The other man paused then added quietly, “She might’ve fought him. Scratched his face or bloodied his lip, something we can look for.”

  “Too bad she couldn’t have killed the son of a—”

  “Dr. Garrett?” Jenna’s throat was tight and his name croaked out.

  She wasn’t certain he heard her, but then his head peeked around the wall extension.

  “Jenna.” Relief shaded his voice and he walked toward her. “Glad you’re awake.”

  The other man stepped into full view and she frowned at his resemblance to Linc. “Hi, Dr. West. I’m—”

  “This is my brother, Mace. He’s a detective, which makes him a natural nuisance,” Linc interrupted dryly then frowned at Jenna.

  “He needs to ask you some questions, but only if you say so.”

  She nodded, feeling as if she were weaving in and out of consciousness. Her body throbbed and her mouth was thick from the medication.

  Mace Garrett stood about an inch shorter than Linc and where Linc’s hair was a sandy brown, Detective Garrett’s was sable dark. Linc’s eyes were gray and sharp; his brother’s were blue, direct yet warm.

  He rolled a small stool next to Jenna’s bed and eased down onto it. His eyes were kind. “I hope you’re up to this, Doctor.”

  “I’ll try,” she rasped. “I want to catch him, too.”

  Linc leaned threateningly toward his brother. “Don’t bully her. You only get a few minutes. Three.”

  Mace stared oddly at Linc then turned to Jenna. “Now, could you—”

  “What about Wilbur?” Jenna’s breath lodged painfully in her chest

  Mace’s blue eyes softened with compassion and before he said the words, Jenna knew. “I’m sorry. Dr. Hanley didn’t make it.”

  Deke had killed Wilbur. She took a deep breath, wincing at the sharp pain in her side as the memories flooded in. “He was trying to help me.”

  A tear seeped out of the corner of her eye and Jenna lifted a shaking hand to wipe it away.

  “I’m sorry,” Detective Garrett said softly. “I take it he was a friend of yours?”

  She nodded, anger melding with the nausea, the fear.

  I’ll get you, bitch. I’ll get you.

  Deke’s words circled viciously in her head. He’d killed Wilbur, who’d never done a thing to him. She had no doubt Deke Ramsey would make good on his threats to her.

  A new fear stung her. “What about my parents?”

  “We’re still trying to get in touch with them,” Detective Garrett said kindly.

  Panic slashed at her, cutting her breath. “What if he—”

  “Let’s not think the worst, Dr. West. Perhaps they’ve been out of town or—”

  “Yes.” Relief slid through her and she closed her eyes on another surge of exhaustion. “Yes, they’re at Laurel’s. I’d forgotten.”

  “Laurel?” the detective probed.

  “Laurel Chevlan.” Jenna struggled to open her eyes. “My sister. She lives in Tulsa.”

  “Can you stay with me for a few more minutes? I need as much information as you can give me.”

  “I’ll try.” She longed to slip into the black void that beckoned, but forced her eyes to stay open. “I was through for the day, walking to my Jeep and he just grabbed me. By the hair. He shoved me against the truck and started saying—”

  Her bruised stomach muscles tightened painfully. She struggled to breathe past the horror of retelling the story. She refused to repeat his exact words. “He started threatening me. He hit me and I hit back. I just kept hitting him. I wasn’t going to let him...”

  “What, Dr. West? You weren’t going to let him what?” Mace urged.

  “Mace,” Linc warned, hovering over her.

  “I wasn’t going to let him...” She was so tired. And her head hurt. “Hurt me anymore.”

  “Can you give me a description, Jenna? Anything. I know it was dark, but as much as you can remember. Anything.”

  “I can do better than that.” The words scraped her tender throat like glass. “I can give you his name.”

  Linc frowned and stepped closer to the bed.

  Surprise flared in Detective Garrett’s eyes and he nodded, pen poised above a small notebook.

  She closed her eyes, licking lips that were dry and split.

  “It’s...Ramsey. Deke Ramsey.”

  Mace scribbled the name, frowning. “I know that name.”

  Linc moved to Jenna’s other side. “She’s fading, Mace. Isn’t that enough for now?”

  “I can do more, if you need it.” She struggled with the words, feeling as if she were being sucked into a dark void, completely at the mercy of her drug-induced lethargy.

  She had no energy, no strength. She couldn’t focus on the detective, but she felt him rise to his feet. Then she heard other voices, familiar voices.

  A gentle hand touched her face and her father’s deep voice settled over her. “Jenna, doll?”

  “Dad?” She fought to open her eyes, wanting to see him.

  He stroked her hair away from her eyes. “Mom’s with me. We’re right here.”

  Jenna fought against another swell of lethargy. She opened her eyes and looked into her mother’s green ones, bright with tears, her father’s blue ones glimmering.

  “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here.” They were all right. Ramsey hadn’t gotten to them. With the relief came a trickle of strength.

  “We came as soon as we returned from Laurel’s.” Her mother edged around her dad and placed a kiss on Jenna’s head.

  She was so tired, so sore. She wanted to rest, but something niggled at her. “Mom, the animals.
Will you take care of the animals? And Puppy.”

  “Yes, honey. Don’t worry about that.”

  There was something else, something important. “Oh, Detective. Did you... more questions?”

  “Only a couple.”

  She nodded, her head heavy and throbbing.

  Linc spoke from the foot of her bed. “Mace, she’s had enough for now.”

  “It’s...okay,” she managed to say through swollen lips. “Just get it finished.”

  She tried to focus on the detective next to her bed, but it was too much effort and pain crashed through her skull.

  “This Deke Ramsey, Dr. West. How do you know him?”

  Her mother gasped and her hand tightened on Jenna’s.

  Her father tensed as well. “Honey, you don’t have to do this.”

  “I do, Dad.” She struggled to open her eyes, to meet Detective Garrett’s shrewd gaze. “I knew him when I was in vet school. He went to the university. Oklahoma State.”

  The detective scribbled something in his small notebook.

  “You were friends? Or maybe you dated him?”

  Tension webbed the room, crisscrossed in sharp prickling patterns between her and her parents that even Jenna, groggy on drugs, could feel. They hated for her to talk about it, but they knew it was sometimes necessary.

  “No, Detective.” Peaceful sleep pulled at her, but she lifted her gaze to his, struggling to hold on to consciousness. “He raped me.”

  She was aware of Linc’s strangled curse then nothing.

  Chapter 2

  Rape? Shock and horror sliced through him, crowned quickly by a compassion that wrenched at Linc’s heart. He could see things now, things that before he’d attributed to the revulsion he’d seen in her eyes that night in the barn. Why she hadn’t pursued even friendship with him after rescuing him from the barn, why she never stayed to chat, why she often checked the animals when he was gone.

  No wonder Linc had repulsed her. Now as he stood outside her door with Mace and his partner, Reid O’Kelly, the too familiar scents of soap and antiseptic were suddenly choking. What a jackass he’d been.

  A page sounded over the loudspeaker and an orderly walked past, steering a man in a wheelchair.