by Dahlia West
“I’ll bring you lunch tomorrow,” she offered.
“That’d be great.”
He watched her go until he finally lost sight of her and set himself to stoking the campfire since Court wasn’t around to do it.
Suddenly, a noise broke through the sound of the encroaching thunder. Austin wasn’t certain he even recognized it, but when the others joined it, he realized the dogs were sounding the alarm. He lunged for his tent, found the pistol he’d stashed under his bedroll, and cocked it as he tore ass up the slope toward the sounds of their barking.
The first raindrops hit him as he snaked his way through the canyon path on foot. He could hear someone shouting, but the voice was lost in another roll of thunder. It was nearly dark now as the sun’s last rays clung to the horizon. He lost his footing in the dirt that was quickly becoming mud under his boots. He could only follow the sound of the clash between the dogs and the intruder who’d happened upon their patrol.
When Austin finally turned the last corner, he could make out a figure, surrounding by the pack, cursing and throwing a rock at the largest one. Kinka, Austin knew he was called, and the dog dodged the projectile easily and came back snarling, clearly offended.
“Fuck off!” the figure bellowed.
Austin wasn’t sure if he was hearing the man correctly. It was only two words, after all, but the voice sounded familiar. “Hey!” he shouted, raising the pistol.
As the man turned and squinted through the rain, Austin was finally certain who it was.
Palmer Conroy.
Palmer only gave him a moment’s notice before he kicked out at the smallest dog who’d edged closer. It was only a glancing blow. She sprang up at him, powerful jaws gaping wide, and clamped over his forearm with a fierce snarl. Palmer went to one knee, free arm flailing.
Austin ran hard at them, waving his own arms. “Back up!” he shouted to the dogs because he’d forgotten to ask Mac Archer what he was supposed to say if they actually caught anyone on the property. “Back up, back up!”
They seemed to understand and the closest one, the kick recipient, let go of him and skirted just out of Palmer’s reach. Palmer, instead of running now that he had the chance, turned instead to Austin and staggered to his feet. He came at Austin full force, feet pounding in the mud.
Austin lifted the gun to chest level. “Palmer don’t!”
Palmer either didn’t see the gun or didn’t think Austin would use it because he never slowed, even as the dog was once again closing in on him from behind. The dog caught his rear foot and pitched him forward. He slammed into Austin just as he squeezed the trigger and they all crashed into the mud. Lightning lit up the sky all around them.
Chapter Thirty-Four
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Leah frowned at the fast moving clouds and glanced at Willow seated across from her at the porch table. “Let’s go inside,” she said, gathering her work tools and putting them into a box. “The storm’s almost here.” The corners of the little girl’s mouth tugged down but she didn’t argue as Leah filled the first box and hefted it off the table. The first drops of rain started to fall as she ducked into the house to set the box on the living room table. Then she headed back out to help Willow gather up her own jewelry project. But Willow wasn’t there.
Squinting into the rain that was now falling in sheets, Leah spotted her standing in a puddle in the driveway. “Willow!”
The little girl picked up the cardboard box, now empty of its stash of colored beads. “It blew away!” she yelled back. “They’re all in the dirt!” She cast about helplessly around herself, lamenting the loss of the shiny baubles.
“Willow get back up on the porch!” Leah cried just as a streak of lightning split the sky.
The girl jumped and let out a high pitched scream. Leah, her own heart in her throat, scurried down the wooden steps toward the little girl. Rain pelted her face as she rushed across the gravel, arms already out and reaching for Willow. “Come on!” she shouted above the howl of the wind whipping around the house and in between the barns. “Run!”
Ear-splitting thunder made Leah’s ears ring. Willow dropped the cardboard box and wisely abandoned her scattered treasures. Leah gripped her hand and turned to run. Lightning struck again and loud boom rattled her teeth. It must’ve hit one of the trees behind the house.
She tugged the little girl’s hand and ran for the safety of the covered porch. The rain was coming down so hard she was already drenched, shivering, and blinking against the onslaught. She pushed Willow up the steps, urging her on, when her own foot hit the bottom board, she felt it slip out from underneath her.
The rain seemed to fall fast, hundreds maybe thousands of drops hit her in the moment it took Leah to fall herself. It was a strange, terrifying stretching of time that at once seemed unreal and completely inevitable. She threw out her hands for something to grab, something to slow her momentum. Her left hand came down on the railing beside her, but the wood was slick and she couldn’t hold on. She felt her finger nail split as it clawed through the board and finally she crashed onto the steps.
All the breath went out of her and she couldn’t even muster a scream.
“Leah!” Willow screamed and reached for her.
Leah rolled into the grass, clutching her stomach, as the rain continued to beat down on her.
“Leah, Leah!”
Bright stars blurred Leah’s vision so she only heard the front door open, she didn’t see it.
“Oh, my God!” Dakota cried. “Leah!” Leah heard footsteps on the stairs. “Stay on the porch. Just stay there. “Leah?” she called loudly. She gripped Leah’s arm trying to pull her up. “Can you get up? Are you all right? Jesus, are you okay?” Dakota struggled, slipping in the mud alongside her. Neither made any progress to the porch. Then Dakota tipped back her head and screamed. “Walker!”
Mere seconds later, the door flew open again. This time Leah’s vision had cleared enough to see the huge man barreling down the steps toward her. The thundering of his boots rivaled the storm overhead.”
Walker gathered her in his arms and Leah clutched at him. She looked down at the mud on her jeans and the rainwater soaking the denim. None of that really mattered. What caught her eye was the dark stain spreading between her thighs and the pain in her belly. “Please, no,” she whispered but her prayer was lost in a crack of thunder.
“Dakota?” called Sofia, coming out onto the porch and pulling Willow to her.
“She fell!” Dakota shouted back.
The older woman pushed Willow into the house and closed the door. Then she sprinted down the stairs, splashing mud with her leather boots. “Get her to my truck,” she barked at Walker. “Hurry!”
Walker slid Leah into the passenger seat then Sofia pushed him away. “Go get your brother,” the old woman said quietly.
Walker nodded and turned to make a run for the horse barn.
Leah groaned and pressed her hands to her belly as Sofia gunned the truck’s engine down the driveway. When they hit the highway, she reached out and squeezed Leah’s thigh.
“Just hang on, mija. I’m going as fast as I dare.”
It felt like hours before they reached the Star Valley Medical Center. Rowan met them outside, under the awning. “Dakota called me!” she told them, lowering Leah onto a gurney with the help of another man. “She said you got caught in the storm.”
“Willow’s fine,” Leah managed to tell her. “She’s fine.”
Rowan paled. “Wh—what?”
Leah shook her head and couldn’t muster the energy to tell her again.
“Willow was in the storm,” said Sofia. “Leah ran out to get her. That’s when she fell. Willow’s okay but…but…”
Rowan and the hospital worker were still running alongside the gurney as the automatic doors opened. There were too many loud voices, as far as Leah was concerned, and too many people standing over her poking prodding. Or maybe not enough. She’d deal with anything to hold onto the life that was sl
ipping out of her grasp. “Please,” she whispered to a man in a white coat shining a light in her eyes. He had dark hair, like Austin. But no one was Austin. And she wished he was here.
“Paul,” came Rowan’s voice drifting from somewhere over Leah’s shoulder.
The man with the dark hair was already lifting Leah’s shirt.
Later, much later, the voices had dwindled to all but a few. The curtain was pulled in the multi-bed room which, Leah guessed, was supposed to give her some privacy. She could hear the doctor and Rowan speaking in quiet tones. She wasn’t sure if it was for her benefit or for the people around them.
She could hear a clock ticking, probably on the wall, but couldn’t see it. Instead she counted the drops of the IV bag beside her cot. Finally, the curtain was pulled back. She gripped the sheets, throat tightening, tears stinging her eyes. But it was Rowan, not Austin, who stepped through as she’d hoped.
Chapter Thirty-Five
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Austin’s ears were ringing from a combination of the storm and the report of the pistol. The shot had gone wide in the collision and he nearly lost the weapon entirely as he sprawled with Palmer into the mud. The man screamed, though, and for a moment Austin thought perhaps he’d been mistaken and hit his intended target. But Palmer moved off him, attempting to scramble away. He apparently had only just realized Austin was armed.
One of the dogs caught Palmer’s ankle and pulled, slamming his face into the dirt. Austin leapt up and swung his hand, cracking the man in the skull with the butt of the gun. The man screamed again, as the dog gnawed on him.
“All right!” Austin cried. “All right, all right.” He had no idea how to call them off. He reached down with his free hand and grabbed the collar of the one using Palmer as a chew toy and pulled.
Reluctantly the dog let go but Austin could see blood running in rivulets through the man’s torn pant leg. Around them, the dogs were barking furiously, spurred to a frenzy.
Austin aimed the weapon again, directly at Palmer. “You should never have come here!” he shouted above the storm.
“Fuck you!” Palmer replied. “You’re not going to shoot me, Barlow!”
He was right about that, at least. Austin wasn’t going to pull the trigger. He’d just march his ass down to camp and radio for the sheriff. “Get up,” he demanded.
“Fuck you!”
Austin sighed. “As much as I’d love to stay up here, in a motherfucking electrical storm, having stimulating conversation, Palmer, we need to get to lower ground.” Coincidentally, lightning flickered at the moment he stopped speaking, adding emphasis to his words.
“Shoot me!”
For a brief moment, Austin considered it. “If you don’t—”
“Austin!”
The sound of his name startled him, because it wasn’t Court, who could’ve stumbled upon them if he’d returned to camp while Austin had been gone. But it was Walker charging up the slope.
Austin seized Palmer’s arm and dragged him to his feet. “We’ll carry you, you bastard,” he growled in the man’s ear, “if that’s what it takes.”
“Leave him!” Walker shouted running toward them.
Austin frowned. “What do you mean leave him? I got him!”
Walker shook his head. “You’ve got to let him go.”
“Bullshit I do! I caught the sonofabitch! Help me get him back to camp.”
Walker grabbed his arm and tried to pry it off Palmer’s. “Leah’s hurt!” he finally cried when Austin wouldn’t let go.
Austin froze. “What do you mean hurt?”
“She got caught in the storm. Sofia took her to Star Valley.”
Austin blinked at his brother, needing a moment to process his words. Walker said Star Valley but that could only mean one thing. Star Valley Medical Center. He threw Palmer into the mud and left him there. Then he raced down the ridge at breakneck speed, alongside his twin, both men slipping in the shifting soil.
There was no way to ask his brother what happened, not and keep up the grueling pace to get back to camp. A thousand images filled his mind, none of them good, all of them had him panicking. When they finally got to the bottom, he saw Court had returned and was pulling a saddle off his horse.
Court turned and frowned at them. “I waited for it to let up!” he shouted. “What’s wrong?”
It seemed like too much to explain and Austin had little patience for it. He didn’t know the details anyway. Not yet. Walker could fill him in on the way. “Palmer’s on the ridge,” he cried, throwing an arm in the direction they’d just come.
Court’s eyebrows raised. “What?”
“I had him but I had to let him go. He might still be up there. But Walker says Leah’s hurt and I have to go. Now!” He passed Court the muddy pistol, pressing it into his hands.
Court looked past him up to the highlands. “I’ll bring him back,” he vowed, gripping the weapon.
Austin nodded and practically threw himself toward Walker’s truck. He clawed his way inside and slammed the door so hard the entire vehicle rocked.
“She fell,” his brother told him before he even had to ask. He dropped the truck into gear and stomped on the accelerator. They fishtailed in the mud but Walker recovered easily. “That’s all I know. She fell outside the house.”
“What else?” said Austin, because they were brother—twins for fuck’s sake!—and he knew Walker was holding back.
The man frowned, yanking the wheel to set them on the highway. He shifted again, into a higher gear, saying nothing. Austin didn’t argue because no good would come of wrapping themselves around a tree before they got to her. He gripped the door handle, knuckles turning white, and waited.
“She was bleeding,” Walker finally admitted.
Austin didn’t have to ask where.
“Please, God,” he whispered, but he didn’t know what to ask for. The baby? And lose Leah in the bargain? Leah? And lose the baby? He asked for both and knew it was a gamble. He’d always been lucky, but this time Austin couldn’t shake the feeling that his luck may have finally run out.
Chapter Thirty-Six
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Leah scrutinized the woman standing over her now. Pregnant herself with a wedding ring on her finger. Twice in her life, Leah had read the grim faces of doctors before they’d said a word. Each time the Earth seemed to stand still on its axis before they parted their lips to speak and she officially had leukemia and then had two relapses.
Rowan, the woman Leah had once thought would end up her sister-in-law, didn’t need to say anything at all.
“Could you leave?” Leah asked quietly, before Rowan could speak. “I…I don’t mean to be rude, but…could you leave?”
Rowan hesitated. “We’re moving you,” she finally said. “To a private room.” Blessedly she said nothing else, just kicked at something on the leg of the bed, close to the floor, and soon Leah was being whisked away again, down a hall, through a door.
Alone in her new room, she cried great heaving sobs as she tore at the sheets. The rain on the window pane couldn’t match her for drops as they spilled down her cheeks, blurring her vision. She cried until she had no more tears to cry. Then she cried again.
Finally, she collapsed back against the bed, knowing Austin would come soon but now she didn’t want him to, didn’t want him to know. She could see this clock and watched its ticking hands.
When the door finally opened she sucked in a deep breath. She saw the look on his face after he stepped through the door, saw it change from confusion to bleak understanding with the passing of a second. It was obvious no one had told him. He must’ve read it on her face when he’d walked through the door. She closed her eyes and wished for that to be the end of it, that no words would ever need to be said about it. One because it would break her heart, and two because she didn’t have enough words of apology for the man standing in front of her now.
She heard his footsteps on the tile and felt him take her hand gently. He squeezed i
t. She couldn’t muster the strength to squeeze it back. “I fell down,” she told him. But that wasn’t quite true. She had fallen, yes, but it wasn’t over. She was still falling, like a heavy stone sinking in dark water. It hurt to even breathe. She was drowning.
She might never stop.
“Are you…are you all right?”
She opened her eyes to look at him.
“I mean…” She watched him fumble, watched him struggle over his words, the same way she would have if she were the one speaking. “Are you…hurt?”
Yes.
Leah hurt all over, in her body, in her heart, in head…in her soul. Her whole body was open wound, infected, contagious. “No,” she told him quietly, because she knew he didn’t mean it like that.
In fact, it did hurt and they’d given her painkillers but he didn’t need to know, didn’t need to worry about another thing right now. Leah could feel bruises forming over her body, over her stomach and her thighs, but didn’t have the courage to lift the gown they’d put her in and look at them.
They remained silent and unmoving, nothing more to say to each other. And wasn’t that the truth? Without the baby, they wouldn’t know each other at all, would they? Without the baby, she could’ve spared him this, but she felt the loss so keenly, so sharply, so opposite the intense love she’d had for the person she hadn’t yet met, that she couldn’t wish it had never happened. Never that.
But still. She could’ve spared him.
He looked dirty, caked in mud, with a bruise on his own face and she wondered about it.
“Are you hurt?”
He shook his head. “No. I…” He licked his lips, which were still red, maybe more red when contrasted against his pale face. “I fell, too.”
“Oh.”
The storm had found both of them, as storms always do.
She could barely stand to look at him as he stood over her, holding her hand. He was destroyed. She’d destroyed him. She’d brought him into her awful, unstable, unstoppable orbit and allowed him to be smashed into a million jagged pieces right alongside her.