by Sharon Sala
But the airwaves stayed silent, exacerbating his fear.
In the back of his mind he knew the rescue team should have been there by now. What if they’d gotten lost? He needed to do something positive, if for no other reason than to take his mind off how this might end, so he started talking to her as if she could hear and understand.
“Hey, baby...guess what? Honey caught Prince White and took him down all by herself. She chewed him up good before I got there and pulled her off. She was absolutely amazing. When I let her out of that granary, she took off running and didn’t stop until she caught him on the trails. All we could do was follow. You would have been so proud of her. She’s waiting for you to come get her. We need you, Meggie...please, sweetheart...please wake up. There are so many things I want to tell you.” His voice broke, but he kept talking. “Fagan White confessed to everything. Wendell and Prince killed my dad on Lucy’s orders. The sheriff and his deputy heard the confession. They have Fagan and Prince in jail. My name will be cleared and they’ll go to prison for Dad’s murder.”
A sudden blast of wind hit his back, popping the ends of the blanket so fiercely he had to take a tighter grip to keep it from flying away, and yet in the midst of the madness, Meg lay as if dead. Tears began to run down his cheeks as he touched the side of her face. It felt warmer than it had when he’d first found her.
“Come back to me, baby. I don’t want to be in this world without you.”
Like the answer to his prayer, Meg’s eyelids began to flutter, and then she moaned.
Elated by the first positive sign he’d seen, he clutched her hand.
“Meg. Open your eyes, sweetheart. Open your eyes!”
* * *
Meg was waking up in increments. She was cold—so cold—and kept thinking she needed to put another quilt on her bed or turn up the heat. There was a loud roaring in her ears, which confused her even more, and she kept hearing a voice but couldn’t make out the words.
The more cognizant she became, the greater the pain, until it ultimately engulfed her. She thought she was screaming, but all she heard was a moan. Something brushed across her face, and she could hear someone crying.
It made her sad, but the roar in her head was so distracting she couldn’t think. It kept getting louder and louder. She needed to get up. Something was happening—something bad.
* * *
Linc was holding her hand and wasn’t letting go, convinced it would be the anchor she needed to find her way back. She was showing signs of regaining consciousness. All she needed was to focus on his voice.
“Wake up now, Meggie. It’s time to wake up. I need you to tell me where you hurt. You fell. You need to wake up now.” Then his voice broke. “Please, God, please, give her back,” he said, then laid his cheek against her hand. From that angle he was looking straight into her face. All she had to do was open her eyes.
Meg’s eyelids fluttered again, and this time he saw her try to take a deep breath. As she did, she moaned again.
He frowned. Broken ribs? Internal bleeding? God in heaven.
The wind was whipping the blanket so hard he could barely hear himself think. What if she couldn’t even hear his voice?
In desperation, he yelled, “Open your eyes!”
And she did.
Linc swallowed a sob. “Hi, baby...hi, Meggie. It’s me, Lincoln.”
She blinked in slow motion.
“Can you hear me?” he asked.
She blinked again. “Cold.”
“Yes, baby, it’s cold. You fell off the mountain. It’s snowing, and we’re on a ledge waiting for the rescuers to get here. Do you remember what happened?”
Her lids went shut, but there was a frown between her brows. “Running,” she finally said.
“Yes, from Prince White. We caught him. He’ll never hurt you again.”
A tear rolled out from beneath her eyelid and down the side of her nose.
“Hurt.”
His stomach was in knots. This was what he’d been waiting for, and now he was scared of what she would say.
“He hurt you, didn’t he? But he can’t hurt you again.”
Another tear rolled.
“Meg...you need to help me now. Can you tell me where you hurt? Does your head hurt?”
“Hurt.”
“What about your back? Can you move your legs?”
“Hip.”
“Okay...your hip hurts?”
“Hurts.”
Little by little he questioned her, until he was fairly certain that he had a grasp of where the worst of her injuries were. He grabbed the radio and keyed it up as she drifted back out of consciousness.
“This is Lincoln. Over.”
“Quinn here. Over.”
“She came to. Her head and hip hurt. She can feel her legs, but she won’t move because of pain, and I’m thinking her hip might be broken. She has feeling everywhere, and she flinched when I pinched her leg. She could move her fingers, but she didn’t try to lift her arms, and I don’t want her to move for fear she’s got a back or shoulder injury. Where the hell is the rescue team? Over.”
“They just got here. We’re rigging up a line to drop the basket for Meg. Over.”
“A basket? Hell, no! The wind is too strong now. No matter how tight I strap her in, her weight will roll her out when it tilts. Over.”
Quinn was shielding his radio with his body and still had to shout to be heard.
“No. It has a top and a bottom. Locks together like a wire casket. Sending a backboard and a neck brace with it. Attach neck brace first. Then put the backboard against her spine and roll her faceup. The board will stabilize her body. Strap her to it, then lift her into the basket. There are extra blankets. Cover her head to toe. Lock down the top. We’ll haul her up on your cue. Over.”
Linc was so cold he could feel himself growing lethargic. It would have been easy to just lie down beside her and quit. He had to get her out of there before hypothermia set in.
“Let’s get this done. Over.”
He put the radio back in his pocket and then patted Meg’s hand. Her eyelids fluttered.
“Meg, honey...help is here. We’re going to take you off the mountain and get you to a hospital. Do you trust me?”
He watched her nostrils flare slightly, and then she opened her eyes. For a heartbeat she saw him.
“Love,” she whispered, and then closed her eyes.
There was a knot in his throat. “Oh Lord, Meggie...I love you, too,” he muttered, and brushed a kiss across her forehead.
He was scared out of his mind that moving her would make things worse and then was reminded that, short of death, things were never as bad as they could be.
His radio squawked, then he heard Quinn’s voice.
“Lowering the basket. Over.”
Linc answered immediately. “We’re ready. Let’s do this. Over.”
He lowered the blanket and looked up. The wind was an instant blast against his face, but the snow was waning. Thank God for small favors. He kept looking up until he could see the basket descending. Watching the wind swinging it from side to side was a preview of how Meg would go up. He would rather have moved the mountain they were on than take this chance, but the decision was out of his hands.
“I love you, Meg. God help us,” he added, and he pushed the blanket aside and then tucked it under his knee to keep it from blowing away.
The wind was so strong and so cold it took his breath. He could only imagine what it was doing to her, and once again he used his size as a bulwark to shield her against the blast.
When the basket finally reached them he let his mind go blank and began doing what Quinn had instructed him to do one step at a time—like following a blueprint on a jobsite.
First the neck brace, then the backboard.
She moaned when he began to turn her.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he muttered, and kept the motion slow and smooth as he rolled her over, then fastened the straps across he
r body, battling time and the elements. She was crying, but he didn’t think she was fully conscious. Before, he’d wanted her to wake up, and now he wished to God she would pass out.
“Here we go, honey. Up and over,” he said, and lifted her into the bottom half of the basket. The shriek that came up her throat was loud enough to be heard over the wind’s wicked whine. He wouldn’t let himself go there and kept working. The faster he moved, the sooner she would be on her way to safety.
He began tucking blankets in around her. The Mylar blanket was the last he put over her, and when it was secure, he pulled it over her face. There was nothing left to do but fasten her in. He pulled the top down and flipped the locks, then tested it several times to see if he could pull it open. It held tight. He grabbed his radio.
“Lincoln here. Pull her up. Over.”
“Roger that. As soon as she’s up, we’ll pull you up. Over.”
“Understood. Over and out.”
He kept his hand on the basket until they pulled her out of reach, and even then he never took his eyes off the cage until it disappeared into the spotlight. It gave him a chill, watching her ascend like a spirit going into the light, and he had a sudden sense of panic that he’d just given her up to God.
In the midst of his horror, calm suddenly washed over him. What was he thinking? He’d already given her up to God. It was up to God to give her back. It seemed like an eternity, but in reality it was only a few minutes before his radio squawked again.
“Quinn here. We’ve got her. Over.”
The relief that went through Linc was brief. He still had to get off this damn ledge, and they had to get her off the mountain before an evaluation of her injuries was even possible.
His radio squawked again.
“On your feet, Linc. We’ve got your line. Over.”
“On my way. Over and out.”
Linc was on his feet and braced, waiting for the rope fastened to his body harness to go taut. The second it lost slack he leaned back, tightened his grip and started the brutal climb, fighting the buffeting winds and icy shards.
About halfway up a gust of wind blew him sideways, slamming him into the face of the mountain with such force that he hit his head, cut his cheek and bit his lip. The salty taste of his own blood was in his mouth as he swung back into position and resumed the climb one miserable step at a time.
By the time they pulled him over the rim onto solid ground his legs were trembling. He dropped to his hands and knees, and when he finally looked up the headlights of two ATVs were illuminating the clearing and heading down the mountain.
Quinn came out of the darkness, dragged him to his feet and then threw his arms around him and began pounding his back.
“You did it! You by God did it, Lincoln Fox! Our family owes you forever! All you have to do is name it, and it’s yours.”
“All I want is Meg,” Linc said, handing Quinn the radio. Then, despite the cold and the wind, he dropped his coat and shrugged out of the harness.
Quinn began packing it up into his backpack as Mariah quickly helped Linc back into his coat.
Linc’s vision was blurry from the battering cold, but it was obvious the searchers up top hadn’t had it much easier than he and Meg had down below. Even though Mariah’s snow gear had a hood, and she’d wrapped a thick scarf around the lower half of her face, what he could see of her dark hair and eyelashes was almost white with ice.
“You’re bleeding,” she shouted as she snapped him back into his coat.
He felt the blood on his head and cheek and promptly ignored it. “Where is she? Where’s Meg?”
“They’re already on the way down with her. That ride is yours,” Mariah said, pointing to a four-wheeled ATV with a passenger seat on the back.
He nodded. His legs felt like rubber, but he wasn’t going to admit it. “Where’s Jake?”
“He left with Meg. Once the search party got here and realized you’d found her, he sent Cyrus and Avery back with all the dogs. He said to tell you they’re taking Honey to the vet tonight, even if they have to drag him out of bed. There’s one more ATV for Quinn and me. We’ll meet you at the hospital.”
Linc’s legs felt wooden as he headed for his ride.
Linc’s driver was in the seat, the engine idling. As soon as Linc’s butt hit the seat, the driver put the ATV into gear. He pulled the sock cap tight over his ears and grabbed hold. The ride was rough, the trail bumpy, but knowing he didn’t have to take another step was nothing short of a blessing. There wasn’t an ounce of strength left in his body.
* * *
Deputy Eddy was waiting at Meg’s house when Marlow came down off the mountain with his prisoner. Prince was so battered he was barely able to move, and when they put him into the backseat of the warm police cruiser, out of the wind and cold, he passed out.
As they started back to town, Eddy began filling him in on the latest.
“A Detective Kennedy from Mount Sterling P.D. called to inform you that Lucy Duggan just admitted her brother wasn’t dead, and that he was the one who assaulted her and tried to kill her husband. According to the story Lucy told, Prince came back for money to get out of the country and found out Duggan had cut her off. She said he flipped out, beat her up, stole her gun and tried to kill Wesley.”
Marlow frowned. “That doesn’t make a lot of sense.”
“Yeah, that’s what Kennedy thought. He’s already digging deeper, but he wanted you to know about Prince.”
“Too bad we didn’t know about this sooner. It might have saved Meg Lewis.”
Eddy gasped. “Is she dead?”
“Hell if I know. The last thing I heard was that they’d found her on a ledge about forty feet down the mountain.”
“Oh, man. I hope she’s okay. She’s a really nice woman.”
Prince moaned from the backseat. Marlow looked over his shoulder at the sorry excuse bloodying up his upholstery and frowned. “Don’t stop in Boone’s Gap. Just drive straight on into Mount Sterling. I’ve got to take this one to the doctor and notify Kennedy his missing shooter has been found. We’ll let the county worry about keeping him in jail until they figure out what to charge him with first.”
* * *
Linc knew Meg had been taken straight to the hospital in Mount Sterling. By the time the searchers got him there for treatment, as well, she was already in surgery. They x-rayed his back and shoulder, and sewed up the still-bleeding wounds on his head and cheek. As soon as they released him, he headed straight for the waiting room in the surgical wing.
He hadn’t expected his reunion with Meg’s family to be in a hospital waiting room, but that was what he got. Dolly and Jake. Ryal and Beth. James and Julie. Even Quinn and Mariah, who were still wearing their search gear, had arrived.
When they saw Linc walk in, they all stood up and, before he could say a word, surrounded him, hugging and shaking hands, and all talking at once.
Finally Jake stepped in. “Hey, let him sit, people. He looks like he’s on his last legs.”
“What about Meg? What did they tell you?” Linc asked.
“Jake is right. Come sit down,” Dolly said, and took him by the hand and led him to a chair.
Linc didn’t have to be told twice. He took off his coat and dropped. His head was throbbing, and the left side of his body was getting stiffer by the minute.
Dolly sat down in the chair beside him and then clutched his hand. There were tears on her face, but her voice was firm.
“Meg has a dislocated hip, a hairline fracture in one arm, a torn rotator cuff, a concussion and broken ribs that fortunately didn’t pierce anything vital. They took her into surgery about an hour ago.”
“Did they say anything about brain swelling or damage to her spinal cord?”
“They didn’t appear to be concerned with either of those issues,” Dolly said.
“Thank God,” he muttered. “It scared the hell out of me when I had to move her.” He wiped a hand across his face and closed his eye
s, struggling to maintain his emotions as Dolly gave his hand a quick squeeze.
“Meg believed in you from the start and never stopped. We are forever grateful for your presence in our lives and hope you’ll learn to forgive us for not being a better voice for you when you were young. God bless you, Lincoln. Forgive us for every slight you ever felt. No matter the outcome of your investigation, you have a place in our homes and hearts forever.”
Linc glanced at Jake. “You didn’t tell them?”
Jake shrugged. “Didn’t hear enough of the facts to start spreading rumors.”
Linc sighed. “Too bad there weren’t more like you when I went to trial. So here’s the scoop. Fagan White confessed that his two brothers killed Dad on Lucy’s orders. It’s a long story, but the bottom line is that they killed him to hide another crime they’d committed. Dad found out what they’d done and was going to turn them in. Lucy didn’t want the embarrassment of all her friends finding out her brothers were thieves, so she told them to kill Dad so he couldn’t tell. She committed murder to save herself embarrassment. I wish they still hanged people here. I’d pull the lever on her myself.”
“Oh, dear God,” Dolly said, and then started to cry. “You were railroaded, and we all let it happen. Why didn’t we question more? Your grandfather and Tildy kept saying it wasn’t so. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Can you ever forgive us?”
Linc shrugged. “There’s nothing to forgive, ma’am. You didn’t convict me. It was Uncle Wes and my stepmother’s testimony that did it.”
Dolly frowned. “That’s the last time I ever expect to hear you call me ma’am. It’s Dolly or Mom, like the rest of my brood.”
Linc felt like crying all over again. He’d been on his own for so long that being accepted back into the family he’d thought had forsaken him was too good to be true. But none of it would be worth a damn if Meg didn’t pull through.
“Did they say how long the surgery would take?” he asked.
Dolly shook her head.
Ryal looked at the time. It was nearly two in the morning. From the condition Linc was in, he looked like he was fading.
“Hey, Linc, when was the last time you had anything hot to eat or drink?”