by Calista Fox
“I was just thinking of you,” he said as he connected the call.
Scarlet’s spirits didn’t fully lift. Though Michael’s words were exhilarating, her dark cloud loomed.
She said, “I wish I was simply calling to tell you that I miss you.”
Michael was silent a moment, then asked, “Why does this sound like a Dear John call?”
She laughed softly, despite her tension and melancholy. “That’s not it at all. In fact, it could actually be the other way around.”
“Not likely,” he quietly, though vehemently, told her.
“You say that now.…” Scarlet’s heart hurt. Her very soul felt weighted down, sinking lower and lower.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Michael said in a concerned tone. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong is … me, Michael. I’m wrong.”
“About?”
Scarlet sighed dejectedly. “It’s not so much an about scenario. It’s more like a compulsion. A sickness, really.”
“Okay, now you’re worrying me.”
“Sorry. It’s just…” Sheer agony lanced through her. “I have this insatiable need to know everything when it comes to investigations. I can’t help myself. Sometimes I don’t have to delve too deep. Sometimes I do. Whatever the job entails, I do it. But this time … I went too far. I looked into something I had no business looking into. Well, aside from voracious curiosity.”
Michael didn’t say anything for a few moments. Scarlet’s tension mounted.
Finally, he asked, “What exactly were you looking into?”
“Sam’s past,” she admitted, not willing to keep this from Michael because she needed his advice. His help.
“Why, Scarlet?” Michael inquired. “What bearing does that have on anything? On the case?”
“I don’t know. I’m not so sure it was about the case. Sam told me he has no idea who his father is, not even a name. And I just … I couldn’t let that go. I had to find out. I couldn’t help myself.”
Christ, what a horrific confession to make.
But then again, Karina Vandenberg had bared her soul in front of her sons. That had taken some courage. So here was Scarlet, womaning up, so to speak.
She said, “I’m not particularly proud that I can’t let well enough alone, that I have to collect as much information as I possibly can until either I’m facing a brick wall that can’t be breached or I’ve broken through that wall.”
“And somehow Sam’s dad’s identity was crucial to your plight?”
Michael’s tone was level, not accusatory. So Scarlet didn’t retreat. Rather, she told him, “It was mostly important to me since Sam is important to me. I want to know him the way I’m getting to know you. I’ve met your parents. Or at least, I’ve met your father and stepmother, and I’ve read about your biological mother. I can at least connect dots on your side. On Sam’s side, there was an anomaly. A variable I couldn’t define.”
“You’re doing a hell of a lot of veiled apologizing, Scarlet.”
“To the wrong person, granted. But I called you because I want your advice.”
“It’s simple and you know it. No mystery here. You have to tell Sam what you’ve learned.”
She honestly hadn’t expected Michael to tell her anything different. She wasn’t a fool. And this wasn’t rocket science.
What it was for Scarlet was a complicated matter of the heart.
When she’d tasked Bayli with unearthing Sam’s dad’s name, she’d been fueled by inquisitiveness, sure, but it’d mostly been related to the art theft. Then the dam had broken at the Vandenberg estate and Scarlet had witnessed Karina’s vulnerability. Scarlet figured that at that point she should have called off Bayli’s hunt. But Scarlet had been caught up in Sam’s anger and then fixated on where the shock wave of a weekend had left the three of them.
Now she had this shock wave to ride out.
Michael said, “Sweetheart, you’re not one to hold back the truth. You need to tell him.”
“We’ve been playing phone tag, but you’re right.”
“Just don’t do it tonight.”
“Michael! You just said—”
“I know what I just said. But you’ll only get his voice mail. I spoke with him earlier about some things the three of us are going to have to figure out. He mentioned he was flying out to Texas tonight. There’s a show Andalusian for sale that he wants to look at before the Great Southwest Winter Series starts in February. I don’t know what the hell any of that means. But he’s on a plane right now.”
“Damn it,” she mumbled. Because the guilt was just going to keep on munching away at her. She did latch on to a divisionary topic, though. “So what did the two of you discuss that actually involves the three of us?”
“Mainly, when we’re going to see one another again. And secondarily … The seemingly serious nature of our involvement.”
“Seemingly?”
“Well,” he said before taking a sip of what she figured was probably brandy or scotch this late in the evening. “I can tell you how I feel and I can tell you how Sam feels, but neither of us is being presumptuous when it comes to your feelings.”
Scarlet could use a drink herself. But she didn’t leave the bed. She earnestly told Michael, “I’m hating my very lonely bedroom right now.”
“Think we’re all on the same page there.”
“Then I’ve got to get things straightened out with Sam. I’ll give him some time to wrap up his business before I drop another bomb on him.”
“Call me if you need me.”
“I need you.”
He let out a low growl. “Why don’t we meet in Montana for the weekend? You can tell Sam then everything you’ve discovered. Much better to do it in person.”
“Excellent idea. Though as a sidebar, my understanding is that you’re not a fan of the country.”
“I’ll survive. It’s worth the sacrifice.”
“Great. I’ll check in with Sam and see how he feels about it. If he’ll even be around.”
“Let me know the outcome. Now I’ve got some more work to do.”
“And I need sleep.”
Neither disconnected the call. That made her toes curl.
“Hang up, Michael.”
“Yeah.”
Obviously, there were things he wanted to say to her. But he was putting it all on the back burner until they were with Sam. The sensible way to go. It was just difficult for her to not instigate the conversation. Because Scarlet had a lot to say, too.
A few quiet seconds ticked by before he simply told her, “Sweet dreams, Scarlet.”
“Thank you. Good night.” She forced herself to tap the end button.
Scarlet returned the phone to the nightstand and switched off the light. She settled in the bed and closed her eyes, wondering how her discussion with Sam would go when she told him she knew who his deadbeat dad was and that Sam had a brother. She was relieved Michael would be there with them, not just for her sake but for Sam’s as well. A little moral support never hurt. And Scarlet’s news wasn’t going to be easy to accept.
Nor was her prying.
Sam was back at the ranch Thursday evening. He’d been on the fence post about the Andalusian but not the black Arabian when he’d caught sight of it—and had immediately made an offer. The horse would be delivered early next week and would be a nice addition to Sam’s show team.
He was feeling quite pleased with his latest acquisition and whistling a tune when his cell rang.
Sam grinned. It was Scarlet.
“Well, hello there, darlin’,” he said as he bent down to scratch Rudy behind the ears and then went to the fridge for a beer. “’Bout time we reached each other.”
“Crazy week. And I hear you were in Texas looking at a horse.”
“Bought one, actually.” He popped the top off the bottle and settled at the kitchen island. “So you spoke with Michael?”
“Last night. He suggested a date. In Montana.
”
“I like his thinkin’.”
“Me, too.”
“So plan on it. I’ve got a few things to take care of around here over the weekend, but my evenings are free.”
“You’re getting ready for a competition?” she asked.
“Yes, we are.”
“That’ll be exciting to see all that goes into the preparation. I’m fascinated by what you do. And I didn’t get a chance to meet your horses.”
“They’re not all mine. I board for some folks. But I’d love to give you the grand tour, since we didn’t get to it the last time you were here. Not that I minded what we were doing instead.”
“I wouldn’t change a thing, even if I could. And maybe we can get Michael to take a look around as well. Get him into the stables or arena.”
Sam chuckled. “Don’t go countin’ on it. Although … you might provide just the right motivation to sway him.”
“I’ll be sure to put extra effort into it.”
Sam heard the mischief in her voice and it turned him on. Hell, everything about the woman turned him on. Even when she was several states away.
He took a long drink from his beer, then asked, “What are you up to this evening?”
“I just left dinner with Jewel, Rogen, and Vin. Nice night. I’m on my way home now, with some asshole tailgater trying to push me down the road.”
“Pull over and let him go around you.”
“I think he’s too close to me for that.” Panic suddenly edged her tone.
Sam tensed, his gut clenching. “Scarlet—”
“Shit! He just put his high beams on and they’re glaring in my rearview mirror!”
Sam set his beer aside and got to his feet. “Scarlet, for God’s sake, pull over.”
“I’m just looking for a sp—” She screamed. “He slammed into me!”
“Scarlet!” Sam’s heart leapt into his throat.
She screamed again.
Sam could hear metal mangling and glass shattering as Scarlet cried out in terror.
And he was helpless to do anything about it.
“Son of a bitch!” he yelled. “Scarlet! Talk to me!”
“I—uh … Oh, God.” Her voice was strained, her breathing jagged.
No!
Fury and fear ripped through Sam. “Scarlet! Say something!”
In the background Sam heard another voice. “This is OnStar. What’s your emergency?”
“I’m upside-down,” Scarlet croaked out. “And I’m stuck.”
Sam listened, his pulse hammering in his head, as Scarlet apparently attempted to free herself from the seat belt. He gripped his cell so tight it was a wonder he didn’t crush the device. His other hand balled at his side. Horror clawed at him.
He didn’t say anything, not wanting to impede the emergency call, but Jesus Christ! He didn’t know how badly hurt she was. Where she was. How difficult it was going to be for someone to get to her.
Sam paced the kitchen as the dispatcher contacted 911 and relayed the accident details to them and Scarlet’s location pinpointed from their GPS capability.
“I’m going to pass out from all the blood rushing to my head if I can’t get out of this belt,” she said.
“Just hold on, darlin’.” Sam’s eyes squeezed shut briefly. This was the absolute worst torture. Reliving the nightmare. Not being able to do anything to save Scarlet just like with Cassidy. “Can you still hear me?”
“You’re on speaker on my cell,” she said on a broken breath.
A heartbeat later Sam heard sirens wail. “Thank God! Someone’s on their way.”
“Yes. I can see the lights.”
“How hurt are you?” Sam asked, trying to keep his anxiety from echoing over the phone.
“I’m bleeding,” she said, her voice weak and raspy. “My forehead. And the shoulder harness pulled too tight when the belt locked up. It dug into the side of my neck. Other than that, I think I’m okay.”
“All right. Just try to stay calm.” He said that as much for himself as for her.
“I’m a little worried,” she shakily confessed. “There’s a lot of blood. It’s running into my hair. My bangs are soaked.”
There were more voices in the background, a bit of commotion. The sound of a door opening was a monumental relief to Sam. Scarlet explained to the first responder that she was stuck. Sam stayed on the call as they talked her through how they were going to get her out and then went about extracting her from the belt and the vehicle. Then there was silence.
Sam was ready to jump out of his skin. He waited for what seemed like an eternity, pacing and trying not to picture Scarlet cut up and covered in blood. It was an agonizing wait before someone came on the line.
“This is an EMT,” he told Sam. “We’re taking Miss Drake to the hospital. I’m going to have to disconnect you.”
“Yes, of course. Just … Tell her I’m on my way.”
“Will do.”
The EMT dropped off. Sam immediately called Michael.
“Calling about—”
“Scarlet’s been in an accident,” Sam instantly interjected. “She’s on the way to the hospital in River Cross right now. I’m going to California.”
“I’ll pick you up in Kalispell,” Michael told him, alarm in his voice.
“It’ll take you four hours to get here in your Lear, Michael.”
“Yes, but do you really think you’re going to get a flight to San Francisco out of that airport at this time of night? And nonstop? Not likely. It’ll take you just as long if not longer than if I pick you up. And if there’s a municipal airport in River Cross we can land there and save the time it’d take to drive from the city.”
“Good point.” But what the fuck was he going to do for four hours to keep from going crazy over Scarlet?
“Look, just hang in there, all right? I know you’re rattled.”
“I was on the phone with her when someone ran her off the road. I’m guessing he took off, because he didn’t help her.”
“Shit.” Michael’s tone was razor sharp. “How bad is it?”
“She rolled the vehicle and was hanging upside down for a while. Belt jammed. Or her fingers were too shaky to release the latch. She’s bleeding, but she was conscious.”
“Goddamn it, that must have been a bitch for you to go through.”
“Without there being a fucking thing I could do for her!”
His nerves were shot to shit and his panic didn’t abate.
“Have a drink and take a few deep breaths,” Michael told him. “I’ve got to make all the arrangements. I’ll call you from the air.”
“Fine.”
“Sam…”
“I’ll be okay. Just get a move on it. I don’t want to waste time.”
“Neither do I.”
Sam hung up. Bypassed his beer and poured a stiff drink instead. Prayed like hell Scarlet would be all right—and that she’d call him as soon as she could.
TWENTY
Michael was worried about Scarlet, but he was equally concerned about Sam, whose knee was bouncing up and down as he sat across from Michael. The Lear was too small for effective pacing, especially for a man Sam’s size. So Michael knew the confinement was as torturous for his stepbrother as not being with Scarlet when she was injured.
Sam said, “Her friend Jewel called me from Scarlet’s cell while she was getting stitched up and looked over. I let her know I contacted you and we’re flying out there. Jewel said Scarlet’s shaken up, but they didn’t think anything was broken. She has a concussion, so she’s being kept at the hospital overnight. We’ll arrive right around the time visiting hours start in the morning.”
“We should probably try to get a few hours’ sleep, then,” Michael suggested.
Sam glared at him.
“Right.” Michael sighed. “Not likely until we’ve seen Scarlet.”
“I hope the police have nailed the asshole who rammed her. I’m guessing it was a drunk driver.”
/> “Chances are good.”
Michael stared out the window, into the dark night, and stewed. He very much wanted to kick the shit out of whoever did this to Scarlet. And while he was trying to keep a level head and project some calm so Sam didn’t get further agitated, Michael’s insides were twisted and his rage simmered just below the surface.
He was anxious to see Scarlet but trying damn hard not to amp Sam’s fury and worry. Making it feel like the longest fucking trek across country for Michael.
He considered discussing the news Scarlet had already shared with him, but he didn’t know if she’d broached the subject with Sam yet or if she’d still intended to tell him about his dad and twin brother in person. And besides, talking about it would only heap more strife on Sam at the moment.
And because Michael knew from experience how wrecked Sam had been following the car accident he and Cassidy had been in, he didn’t want to torment Sam.
So to pass the time, Michael did a little mindless work that would be easy to toss aside if Sam decided he needed to bend his ear. But Sam was currently keeping his thoughts and angst to himself.
When they finally landed at the small community airport in River Cross, the sun was already up. The tension both Michael and Sam felt didn’t ease even as they drove a rented SUV that was waiting for them to the hospital. Sam called Scarlet’s cell and she answered. Sam put her on speaker.
Michael asked her, “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”
“Like I’ve been mowed over by a steamroller. But mostly, my head is throbbing, despite the pain meds.”
Sam winced. Michael continued to strive for an even keel. No easy feat. He said, “We’re almost to the hospital, according to our GPS. You’re still there?”
“Yes. I just got word that I’m cleared for discharge this morning. Jewel brought me clothes, so I should be ready to get the hell out of here before they serve me any sort of breakfast slop.”
Michael chuckled. “Nice to know your feisty spirit is still intact.”
Sam said, “We’ll get you settled at your house and I’ll make something to eat. Is your grandmother home? We’re not going to throw her for a loop that we’re both here?”
“She’s still on a research trip. And she’d be impressed you both came running.…” Scarlet paused, then added, “I’m impressed. Grateful. Comforted. All that mushy stuff.”