Along Came Merrie

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Along Came Merrie Page 2

by Beth D. Carter


  Merrie lay there crying. She couldn’t seem to move as the planet righted itself and vertigo halted. In so much pain she thought she’d pass out, she cradled her wrist. Shouts snapped her out of her haze and she gingerly sat up, looking at the ridge she’d just tumbled down. The road loomed high and the incline appeared sheer. She couldn’t count on those bikers to simply ride on and let her go. Regardless, Merrie knew they would be coming for her—and soon.

  Tears coursed down her cheeks as she managed to get to her feet and look around. She’d landed in a ravine and the moonlight highlighted the forest that started at its mouth, so she darted into the black glen. She had no idea what to do other than to run as far as possible. Pain ravaged every inch of her body and she knew her wrist was broken, but she didn’t feel any other bones poking out from it or anywhere else and for that, she was grateful.

  She pushed onward, deeper and deeper into the woods. The only thought in her mind was to keep moving as the need to survive drove her onward. Many times she stumbled but she got right back up, putting one foot in front of the other.

  Soon, she didn’t hear any more shouts but she refused to relax. Once daylight hit, her pursuers might be able to track her and if she sat to rest, it was possible she’d never be able to get back up. Of course, she had no idea how they’d track her. Did they have dogs? ATVs? What if they had guns? If so, she needed to disappear before they got her in their sights.

  Sometime later, she arrived at a small river. It wasn’t wide or deep, but the current moved swiftly. A memory filtered through her mind, a television show where the man had used a river to find a farmhouse after being thrown from his horse and breaking an ankle. Sure, it was a TV show, but it was the only thing her brain locked on.

  Merrie walked into the river, gasping at the cold, even though it was mid-June. She’d walk for a time in the water to hide her scent, just in case. She put her broken wrist in the water and the cold eased the pain a bit.

  Putting one foot in front of the other became her sole focus—her mantra. She blocked out all the hidden dangers of a thick forest. She didn’t worry about bears, or wolves, snakes or bugs. Time had no meaning in her little world. She walked in the river until her teeth began to chatter then she sloshed along the bank, stumbling over rocks and terrain. Once she’d warmed up some from her exertion, she stepped back into the river. On and on she went until the sunrise. As light spilled over the forest, nothing else penetrated except for her mantra to take one more step.

  The pain in her wrist had long since elevated into nothingness and a tiny voice warned her that she was going into shock, but she didn’t have a clue what to do about it, so she kept going. By the time morning had fully dawned—bringing with it some warmth from the sun—she’d left the river somewhere long ago, although she didn’t remember when.

  Instead, she found herself delirious and on a dirt road, because she thought she saw a rumbling dragon chasing her down. She took off, trying to move away, yet knowing that she wouldn’t be able to outrun the beast. She’d come too far to give up now so she pushed on until her body suddenly gave out and she collapsed.

  She tried to cry. However, everything she’d used up everything she had in her. She had no tears left. With her good arm, she tried to propel herself along, dragging her limp, useless body until her strength disappeared and she lay face down in the dirt road. If the dragon was going to kill her, she’d rather not see it coming.

  As the world began to tilt and fade, she thought she heard the screech of brakes and the slamming of doors. She heard shouts. Someone touched her, turned her over. She stared up into the blue sky, dotted with clouds and thought how pretty the day seemed.

  A man’s face came into her line of view—different than the bikers—and wearing a cowboy hat. She met his shocked, concerned eyes. A rational part of her brain told her that the stranger would help her. The fear driving her held fast to her mind and she tried to push him away. It didn’t work. Her body no longer cooperated.

  “P-please don’t hurt…me,” she begged in a whisper.

  “I’m going to help you,” the man told her, his voice deep and soothing.

  “I…won’t tell…w-what I saw.”

  “Shh. I’m going to call the police—”

  Terror engulfed her. No police! He would know! He would find her! With her last bit of strength, she grabbed his collar and pulled herself up until she was nose to nose.

  “No! He’ll find me. He’ll kill me. He said…the cops are bad. Please…help me!”

  The small tether on consciousness she’d clung to snapped. Once again, darkness claimed her.

  Chapter Two

  Braden McClintock stared with pity at the bedraggled woman in his arms. Someone had beaten her so badly she was one big bloody bruise. He looked toward the timberline she’d stumbled from and listened, but he didn’t hear anything.

  As her words played back in his head, it was obvious to Braden that she was running from someone. She’d seen something—something that had put her in danger—and she’d said the cops were dirty. If he took her to the hospital, they’d call the sheriff’s office, but she was in need of medical help. He suspected her right wrist was broken, owing to the swelling and discoloration. It was obvious someone had hit her on her left cheek. Numerous cuts and scrapes, some of them deep, crisscrossed her body. Her clothing was torn and wet to the touch, which meant she’d walked in the river at some point. The highway was a couple of miles away and if she’d come from there, that meant she’d walked through wolf-infested woods the whole night.

  If she was in trouble… If she’d seen something like she’d indicated, then he couldn’t bring attention to her. He pulled his cell phone from his back pocket and hit the first number on the speed dial.

  “What’s up?” his brother, Leo, asked on the other end.

  “I have an emergency,” Braden answered without preamble. “I’ll meet you at your office.”

  He disconnected and slipped the phone into the front pocket of his shirt before carefully lifting the battered woman into his arms. Moving quickly, he walked to his truck and opened the back seat’s door then slowly slid her in. Once he’d secured her, he hopped behind the wheel and quickly turned around then headed back down the road.

  About thirty minutes from the ranch and Leo’s office, Braden started glancing behind him at the unconscious woman. It was hard for him to tell what she looked like under the dried blood, dirt and swelling. She didn’t have a purse or wallet so he didn’t even know her name. He wavered back and forth between taking the woman to the hospital and taking her to Leo. He knew what his brother would say—he’d insist that they drive her to the ER—but her words haunted Braden. What the hell had happened? What have I seen?

  He was still thinking about what to do when he pulled up to Leo’s office.

  Braden turned the engine off and hurried to get the woman out. Cradling her, he rushed into the building. Leo had built his practice on a corner of their family’s property two years ago when the old town vet had finally retired and let Leo take over his workload. He’d filled it with all the latest and best medical gadgets available. Leo still made house calls, of course, but for the most part, his ass stayed firmly on their land.

  Leo was waiting for him in the ER bay and Braden gently laid her on the table. Her head listed to the side, exposing her bruised and battered face, the overhead light making it look ten times worse.

  “Who’s this?” Leo demanded, looking at the woman on his table. He turned stunned eyes toward Braden.

  “I found her on the southern road,” Braden told him as he arranged the woman’s limbs.

  “Braden, she needs a hospital, not a veterinarian!”

  “I don’t think I can take her there,” he said. “I think she’s in trouble.”

  “That’s obvious, but I treat animals with four legs, not two.”

  “No, Leo, I mean it. She was conscious long enough to beg me no police and no hospital. She said he would find her and kill
her.”

  “He who?” Leo demanded. “Her boyfriend? Her husband? Her pimp?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Is she dangerous?”

  Braden’ shot his eyebrows up. “Does she look dangerous?”

  “I meant is she involved with dangerous company. Damn it, Braden—”

  “Look,” he interrupted, waving his arm around. “You can take X-rays, you’ve got plaster, medicine and you’re a fucking doctor. I just have this gut feeling she needs protection. So please, do me this favor.”

  Leo sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “All right. But if she’s a fugitive or some kind of con artist, I’m calling the cops and kicking your ass. Got it?”

  Braden held his hands up in an I give up and agree gesture. Leo reached for gloves and slipped them on to begin his examination. He tilted the woman’s head this way and that before grabbing a pair of bandage scissors.

  “I think she was out in the woods all night,” Braden said, as he watched his brother treat her. “Probably went through the river.”

  “We need to get her on an IV and X-ray that wrist,” Leo stated. “Hopefully that’s the only broken bone she has. Help me take her clothes off.”

  Braden grabbed gloves as well and they both slowly cut her clothing away, revealing bruises over most of her body. Purple contusions covered her side, as well as her hips with more mottling down her legs. Leo probed her ribs and listened to her lungs then gestured for Braden to cover her with a blanket.

  “Get the saline on that shelf over there to clean up the dried blood,” Leo ordered. “Find all the cuts that require stitches.”

  Braden did as he was told while Leo started an IV drip in her left wrist. As Braden washed her, he realized that the woman was young, probably in her early twenties, with curly brown hair reaching halfway down her back. Of course, leaves and sticks matted her hair, but he’d tackle that job later.

  Most of her cuts were minor, needing only antibiotic ointment and Band-Aids. She had only two that seemed deep enough for stitches—one on her thigh and one on her shoulder. He pointed them out to Leo, who left to get a package of suture, gloves and a sterile medical kit. Braden had helped Leo a couple of times in the lab so he snagged some povidone-iodine to clean the area as his brother used a clamp to grab the curved needle which had the thread attached at the tail. Leo sewed with finesse, his concentration focused solely on his work. When he finished, he slipped off his gloves to bandage the two areas, careful of her wrist, before rewrapping her in the blanket.

  “Let’s X-ray that wrist,” Leo said. “I want one of her torso too, although I didn’t feel any other broken bones or internal swelling when I palpated. But I must stress that it would be better if she could have a CT scan.” Leo glowered at him.

  “Noted, Dr. Leo,” Braden said as he unhooked the safety from the table wheels. The X-ray machine sat in another room behind protective radiation shielding. They laid a small lead vest around her neck to protect her thyroid then moved behind the protective sheeting as Leo activated the machine, snapping several shots of her hand, followed by a couple of her chest. When they were done, Braden removed the neck shield.

  “Well, this is good,” Leo said as he looked at the pictures. “No internal bleeding or broken bones that I can see. The break on her radius is clean and the carpus cluster looks fine, which is relief. Of course, I would feel better if a hand surgeon took a look at these.”

  “Do you know a hand surgeon?”

  “No,” Leo answered. “But I could call over at Riverton and see if they have one there. I know I’d feel a helluva lot better if I didn’t have this on my conscience.”

  Braden rubbed his jaw, thinking. “No. Not until we talk to her.”

  “Ah hell, Braden. What’s up with this girl? You’re such a levelheaded guy and yet you’re acting crazy right now. Think!”

  “You weren’t there, Leo. You didn’t hear her pleading with me, scared out of her mind. Since I don’t know what she witnessed, I can’t take the chance of someone recognizing her if I take her to the hospital. I have to protect her. Now, please…just put a cast on her wrist.”

  Leo glared at him. “What if I’ve missed something? What if she needs surgery on her wrist? The decisions we make right now could seriously affect her prognosis.”

  “I trust you, Leo.”

  His brother gave a fed-up groan, turned and stormed away.

  Braden strode back to the woman and caressed her cheek. Although pale and fragile-looking, she was pretty. Protectiveness surged through him and he touched her curls, letting one swirl around his fingers. He’d only talked to her for a moment, but he couldn’t get her terrified expression out of his mind.

  “I…won’t tell…w-what I saw.”

  “Shh. I’m going to call the police—”

  “No! He’ll find me! He’ll kill me! He said…the cops are bad. Please…help me!”

  Who was this man who had terrified her, beat her black and blue and left her wandering at night in the forest? A lover? A stranger? Whoever he was, it didn’t take a genius to figure out she was probably in the wrong place at the wrong time and had witnessed something that put her life in danger. Her escape was a testament to her courage, since she’d spent the night running for her life while in terrible pain.

  Yet he knew Leo was right. As he wheeled the table back into the lab, he decided he’d give the unconscious woman two days—unless something medically threatening happened. Later, if she played him or if he sensed she wasn’t being truthful, he’d take her in and let the police deal with her.

  Chapter Three

  Merrie blinked her eyes open, although the lid on her left side barely fluttered. It seemed swollen but as she reached up to touch it, pain flared through her shoulder. She moaned and let her arm drop onto the bed.

  “It’s going to be okay,” a man’s soothing voice said.

  She flinched in surprise, looking in the direction of the voice. A cowboy leaned on the doorframe. Big and muscular, he sported a pale blue button-up shirt tucked into tight-fitting jeans and boots. He took off his hat as he stepped inside the bedroom, revealing a head full of dark hair threaded with silver and in need of a cut.

  Bedroom? Merrie darted her gaze around, taking in the sunny room. A vanity stood in the corner and a mirror showed her a horrifying sight. A bruise marred her usually creamy complexion and there was a cut on her cheek that appeared raw. Now she knew why heat and tightness riddled her face.

  But the bigger question was—where the hell was she? The last thing she remembered was being in the woods, terrified out of her mind that she would stumble across Axe or the tattooed man who had driven her car.

  “W-where am I?”

  “You’re on my ranch.”

  She winced as her chapped lips cracked. She didn’t even have enough saliva to wet them with her tongue. Water would be heavenly.

  “There’s a glass of water on your nightstand,” he said, with a nod to her left. “If you don’t mind, I’ll help you to sit up.”

  Merrie tried to move herself, which was a stupid thing to do since the small shift sent off an explosion of pain through her whole body. There wasn’t one place that didn’t hurt, including her hair. She felt as if a truck had run her over then someone had strung her out to dry.

  “Okay,” she said, biting back a moan.

  The cowboy set his hat on the bedpost as he moved to her left side. He slid his big hands slowly under her arms and she rested her one good hand on his shoulders as he gently lifted her into an upright position. She realized she wore a very large T-shirt and nothing else. When he let go, he snatched the pillow and fluffed it before sliding it between her back and the headboard. The whole effort took only a couple of minutes, but sweat broke out on her forehead and Merrie felt as though she’d run a marathon.

  “My name is Braden McClintock.” He picked up the glass of water and handed it over.

  She accepted it gratefully. In a few big gulps, she’d drained the glas
s.

  “More?” he asked.

  “I’m okay for now.” She closed her eyes for a moment and took in how she felt. Now that she’d rested, the pain had subsided into one big, aching mess. “I’m Merrie. Merrie Christmas Walden.”

  “Really? That’s your name? Were you born on December twenty-fifth or something?”

  “No,” she said with a sigh. She’d been answering that question all her life. “My mother just liked the holiday.”

  He offered her a ghost of a smile. “Do you remember what happened to you?”

  She glanced at the cast on her right arm. “Yes. Did you take me to the hospital?”

  “No, you begged me not to.”

  Merrie let out a sigh of relief she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Thank you.”

  “Are you in trouble? Because you’re a mess and I had to fight with my brother about not taking you to the hospital. He’s a vet.”

  “As in the military?”

  Braden shook his head. “As in veterinarian. He treated you.”

  “Oh. Tell him thanks.”

  Braden gestured to the bed. “May I?”

  “Sure.”

  He sat and stared hard at her, his blue eyes seemingly searching for answers. She didn’t know what to tell him or if she should tell him anything at all. Would he be in danger if she explained what had happened to her? Somehow she didn’t think he’d let her simply gloss over the details.

  “I’m on your ranch?”

  “Yes,” he said. “Well, mine and my brother’s. His name is Leo. He’s out on a call right now but he’s going to be back soon, wanting answers, so why don’t you start with what sort of trouble you’re in.”

  Her gaze fell to the cast on her arm. “I was moving—heading to Cheyenne—and got lost. I’ve never been very good with navigation. Finally, I decided to stop at this bar I saw and call for directions.”

 

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