Jake returned to the house, tugged off the rubber waders, and dropped them on the back porch steps. The heat and humidity had taken a toll on him, soaking his clothes clean through.
He turned on the hose and rinsed his boots, then bent over and ran water over his head, arms and hands.
Alice opened the door and handed him a towel. “If you’d let me cut off about four inches of that hair, you’d stay a lot cooler.”
“You’re probably right.” He laughed and brushed off her comment. His “hippie hair” had been a long-running joke, starting the minute it had gotten long enough to brush the tops of his ears.
“How’d the livestock look?”
“Better than expected. Lost four cows, but the horses are fine. They are clean, dry and fed. A few trees in the upper forty were uprooted. We fared better in the small pasture on the hill. Not near as much damage up there as in the lowland.” He handed the towel back.
“Duchess?” Alice’s eyebrows rose.
“She’s good. Helped me bring the other horses up.”
“That’s a load off my shoulders. “She pointed up to the roof. “Not one leak.“ She patted the porch rail as if to say ‘good job.’
“I’ll get up there and nail down those loose shingles.”
“That can wait. The power is out and the ice won’t last long. I made a jar of sweet tea. It’s instant, but it will do for now. Come rest for a minute. I’ll pour you a glass.”
“I’m fine. I’ll get something to drink later.”
“Now Jake, don’t you be arguing. I need you inside for a second.”
Jake followed the fifty-five-year-old-tough-as-nails woman rancher into the house. She was an attractive woman with small laugh lines bracketing her smile. Her upbeat personality made up for Jake’s occasional bad days. They’d worked hard to keep the ranch going after his uncle Charlie died. Her last vestige of fight seemed to have died when she’d walked out of the storm shelter full of fear. It was good to see her behaving normally.
“I’ll pour,” he insisted, taking the tea jar from her. “We got lucky. The storm sounded much worse than it was.”
“Yes, we did.” Alice picked up her cell. “I pulled up the weather. We’re a heck of a lot better off than the cities and cattle ranchers closer to the coast. Connersville caught the worst of the tornadoes. Lots of people injured or missing, even more without homes.”
Jake hated the sadness in her voice. But he had something he knew would cheer her up.”I have a surprise for you.”
“You do?” Her face lit up. “What is it?”
“Guess what I found nuzzled next to Bessie?”
Her eyes brightened a little. “You didn’t find a calf?”
“Yep. I spread out a couple of bales of hay and put baby and mama in the back stall. They’re both going to be fine.”
Jake heard a vehicle drive up outside. He stood and walked to the door. “Claude is here.”
“That’s why I wanted you to come inside. He called. Wants to talk to you.”
Sheriff Claude Welborne parked his four-wheel-drive jeep out front, got out, and walked to the porch. Jake bit back a smile, knowing that Claude had a crush on Alice as big as the main barn. She brightened up when he came around. Recently, they’d started going on an occasional date, and Jake was glad for her. She’d grieved for two years, and Uncle Charlie wouldn’t have wanted that.
Jake and Alice met Claude on the front porch. A smile lit up Claude’s face the minute he saw her. He almost glowed.
“I was glad to hear you two had made it to the shelter in time.”
“We’re fine.” Alice jerked off her cap and ran her fingers through her hair. “Come have a glass of sweet tea. Might as well use the ice.”
“The electric co-op will have a crew working on your transformer this afternoon. Power will be up before dark.” Claude toed off his muddy boots and followed her inside. “The house looks good. You get a headcount on the livestock yet?”
“Four dead cows.” Jake waved off Alice’s offer of a refill. “The fences held, which helped a lot.” Claude had spent a weekend helping Jake fence off the back pasture. “I guess we did a good job.”
Alice motioned Claude to join her at the kitchen table. Her gaze dropped as he crossed the room, and the corners of her lips lifted slightly. No doubt, she’d noticed Claude’s big toe sticking out of the hole in his sock. There was definitely a future for those two. Jake would give them some privacy as soon as he learned what Claude wanted.
“We were going to check on the new heifer.” Jake placed his empty glass in the sink. “You wanted to see me?”
“That’s right.” Claude’s tone sounded serious. “I came to ask you for a favor.”
Jake leaned against the kitchen counter. “I’m listening.”
“Rey Santos, the police chief in Connersville, has put out a call for help. It’s not a big city, somewhere between three to four-hundred-thousand folks. Large enough to have one hospital – a regional medical center that serves the whole county. The Rio Grande feeds a small local lake that has flooded, washing out a few roads in its path. Hasn’t gotten out of its banks in a hundred years, but this storm has turned it into a raging monster. Luckily, the few families impacted by the lake were evacuated. Rey’s in a bad way and could use another strong back.”
“The number of homeless and missing people is growing by the minute. Looting is always a problem after a disaster like this one.” Claude took a drink of tea and then cleared his throat. “I’m shorthanded or I’d send one of my men. Rey is a good guy. It would mean a lot if you’d help him out.”
Jake shook his head. He’d moved to the country to be left alone. “I can’t leave Alice to fix the roof by herself.”
“How about if I take care of anything she needs? And give you my word they’ll be done right?” Claude asked.
“Go.” Alice’s voice was full of conviction. “If I need something done and can’t do it myself, Claude can handle it.”
“He can’t deputize me.” Jake glanced at Alice. Her expression told him nothing. How much of his past had Alice shared with Claude?
“I know. Rey’s not going to deputize every member of each team. He needs honest men with strong backs. Like you. You’ll wade through the debris and mud and search for survivors. It will be hot, nasty, and maybe dangerous. Rey put out a call across the state, asking for volunteers.”
Jake hesitated to answer, trying to form a refusal in his head that didn’t involve telling Claude to fuck off. “Do you know about my past?”
“I do.” He held up his hand. “Not from Alice. I checked you out when you first moved in.” Claude turned to Alice. “I just wanted to be sure you’d be safe.”
She nodded. “I appreciate your concern, but also, understand how Jake might take offense.”
“None taken. In fact, I respect that you wanted to be sure I wasn’t some lunatic.” That Claude had cared enough about Alice to check, nudged Jake toward volunteering. “Other than the few weeks before Charlie passed, Alice and I hadn’t seen much of each other for years.”
“You’ve been a godsend.” Alice beamed up at him. “I hate that my Charlie and your dad never patched things up. Now it’s too late.”
Jake joined Alice and Claude at the table. They made a handsome couple. Maybe a serious romance would develop if he got out of the way. “This Santos, is he a friend?”
“I worked with his father years ago. Rey took the job in Connersville less than a year ago.”
Jake’s uncle had been full of wisdom and country slang. Stuck between a rock and a hard spot seemed to fit this situation. “Where do I report when I get there?”
CHAPTER 2
The oppressive heat inside the building drained the last dregs of Holly Hoffman’s strength. She dampened a cloth and walked outside. Wiping her face, she hoped the moisture on her skin and the wind might cool her off. Unfortunately, the summer breeze she hoped for was a no-show.
A pickup approached, and Holly tr
ied to get a look at the driver. When she’d called her friend Kay Wolfe at the Lost and Found agency to let her know she was leaving for Connersville, she’d learned that Dalton Murphy had also driven down to volunteer with a search-and-rescue team. Seeing him today would be more than welcome. But the pickup drove by without slowing. Silly of her to expect to run into him amongst all the many places he could be, but then again, this was an emergency medical station.
Had it only been a few years ago that her biggest problem in life had been selecting a vacation spot for her and her best friend, Kay? Holly sighed, remembering all hell had broken loose right after their discussion about going to the beach. Then she’d been kidnapped, held hostage, and almost murdered. That experience had changed her, made her want to make a difference in people’s lives. And that desire had led her to get her nursing degree and apply for work at Dallas Mercy Hospital.
The Helpful Hands group, which consisted of doctors and nurses who volunteered to help in disaster areas, worked out of Mercy. Holly had signed up to join them right after she’d been hired as an ER nurse. This assignment was her first time working with the team.
Connersville’s one hospital didn’t have enough room or staff to handle the kinds of injuries a major hurricane brought, so Holly and her team had been assigned an empty elementary school, where they turned the cafeteria into a workspace. She couldn’t imagine the pain and suffering this town had experienced.
An armed guard turned toward her. His face appeared to be set in stone, as not one muscle or nerve twitched. His gaze held hers for a second before he returned his attention to the entrance to their makeshift emergency room. That the medical team had been assigned protection was comforting and sad at the same time. They’d brought their own equipment and meds, which made them a target for looters and gangs.
The coat of perspiration covering her skin chilled, sending a shiver up her spine. She suddenly felt that going outside had been selfish, when so many needed her help. She nodded at the guard as she walked past him. His dark eyes gave away no emotion.
A child’s cry bounced off the walls, tugging at her heart. The head nurse, Suzanne Richards, finished wrapping gauze around his arm. She picked up a syringe from the tray, and the little boy went ballistic. Maybe five years old, he wiggled and squirmed in his mother’s arms. His tiny hands coiled into fists and thrashed in the air. He scrunched his face into a knot and was wailing at the top of his lungs. Holly reached her hands out for him, and without hesitation, he climbed into her arms, clinging to her.
Holly carried him to a small ice chest, opened it, and grabbed a bottle of water. She carried the boy to the far corner, shushing him in soft, soothing tones. “Want something cool to drink?”
His screams subsided, and his heaving chest slowed. He stared at the bottle she offered as if deciding whether he wanted a drink or not. His small hands wrapped around the cool plastic, pulling it to his lips, and he drank big gulps.
“Better?” she asked. His nod warmed her heart. She only had to look around at the children who needed medical attention to know that joining this team was the right decision.
Dr. Emil Abroon stepped around the corner. Deep set lines bracketed his mouth, aging him well beyond his years. His olive complexion did little to conceal the crow’s feet or circles under his eyes. Holly had seen him around the hospital but hadn’t actually met him until this trip. After a couple of days watching the way he treated people, she’d grown to respect his compassion and dedication.
“Such a small person to be raising such a big ruckus,” he said as he approached. “Perhaps I can help.” Dr. Abroon touched the boy’s forehead. “No fever.”
The child buried his face against her shoulder. His fingers dug into Holly’s arm. “I think he’s afraid of you.”
“White coat syndrome. I don’t see anything except the scratch on his leg, but a lot of these children haven’t had any of their childhood shots. He probably needs a tetanus shot.”
“I think that’s what started the ruckus.”
“Let’s talk to his mother.”
She followed Dr. Abroon to her work area and played with the little boy while the doctor spoke with the mother and Suzanne. Holly had the child calm, sitting on her table and smiling by the time the examination began again.
“Hold him just as you are now,” the doctor instructed her. In less than a couple of minutes, the boy was running alongside his mother, smiling broadly, and showing off the gauze bandage on his arm and the Band-Aid above it.
“The child warmed up to you quickly.” Doctor Abroon’s stoic expression melted into a slight smile before he moved to the next patient.
Holly turned to the line of people waiting and motioned a young girl to come forward. She was in her early teens, with long, chestnut hair framing dark, soulful eyes. Her shorts and tank-top were battered and baggy. Her cheek presented scratches and bruises, but the condition of her shoulder concerned Holly more.
The girl moved slowly, as if wary of what might happen next. Holly patted a chair and searched for something to open a dialogue with the girl. The loss had been heavy in this area, and a deep fear shone in her eyes.
“That’s a pretty bracelet. Did you make it?” Holly asked.
“My mother.” The girl’s physical condition wasn’t good. She carried her left arm across her body, cradling her wrist in her right hand.
“Your mother is very talented.” Holly knelt in front of the girl.
The girl stared at Holly for a long moment. “She was.”
“She passed away?”
Her eyes darkened as if a curtain had fallen to shield them. “She’s dead.”
“I’m sorry.” Holly blanched at the girl’s tone of voice. Had death become so commonplace that she could speak those words in a cold and flat manner? “What’s your name?”
“Maria.”
“That’s beautiful.”
“There’s more, but that is easier for people to say.”
“Maria it is,” Holly said. “I need to take a closer look at your shoulder. I believe it may be dislocated.”
Maria’s head moved forward slightly, giving Holly consent. She eased the tank top strap to the side and found the knot under Maria’s skin.
“The doctor will have to put it back in place, but I promise you that relief will be immediate. Before you leave, you’ll receive medicine to relax your muscles and help with the pain. It’s important that you keep your arm close to your body, so I’ll fix you up with a sling.”
“Will it hurt?” Maria turned her body toward the door.
Holly wasn’t going to lie or make false promises. “I’m sorry, but it’s the only way to make the pain stop. When you’re finished with the doctor, come see me. I’ll give you a cold pack to take with you.”
“It won’t just go away?” the girl asked.
“No.” Holly glanced behind them. “Did your father bring you?”
“No. He’s dead, too.” The girl’s dark eyes reflected no emotion, only acceptance.
Holly’s heart dropped to her shoe tops. “I’m so sorry.”
“It happened a long time ago.”
“Who takes care of you?”
The girl’s chin lifted. “I take care of myself.”
“I’ll walk you over to the doctor’s nurse. We have a specialist who will take a look at your shoulder.” Maria followed as they crossed to where a doctor’s work area had been set up.
Room dividers found in storage had been set up, offering a small measure of privacy. A row of cots was lined up in front of the closed-off area. Holly patted an empty bed and sat next to Maria, waiting with her until one of the doctor’s nurses waved them inside. Holly succinctly described Maria’s injury.
“Remember to come see me before you leave,” Holly instructed Maria. She grabbed Holly’s hand. “They’ll take good care of you, I promise.”
Dr. Abroon looked up from a patient and nodded.
Holly returned to her job and found her line had grown.
She tried her best not to rush through, to give each individual the attention they deserved. She prayed she wouldn’t miss some underlying damage and send a truly injured person away with just a bandage. After a few cuts and scrapes, she motioned to the next person in line.
A thin, dark-haired woman approached cautiously. Her eyes scanned the room, back and forth, as if looking for someone.
“Have a seat,” Holly said. “Are you injured?”
The woman took her time answering. “Yeah,” she said, perching on the edge of the chair.
“Are you looking for someone?”
“No. I was just checking out the place.”
Holly began her examination, checking for sprains or other injuries. She asked questions, sometimes getting a yes or no answer, other times no response at all. The woman’s eyes were glassy, pupils dilated, and she picked at the sores on her arms. She wasn’t the first addict the medical team had seen over the past few days. Finding nothing wrong with the woman except a few scratches, she cleaned, applied ointment and Band-Aids.
“Try to keep those scratches clean and you’ll be fine.”
“I’m in pain.” The woman’s voice was whiny and pleading.
“I think a good hot meal would be just the thing to make you feel better. Stop by the volunteer food truck outside for a sandwich and a bottle of water.” Holly turned to clean off her table.
The woman grabbed her wrist. “I need something. A painkiller,” she pleaded. “You can get it. Help me out.”
“I can’t.” Holly waved her hand across her medical supplies. “I have nothing stronger than aspirin.”
“Fucking bitch.” The woman had morphed from begging to furious. She took a step toward Holly.
The woman’s loud outburst startled Holly. She did her best to maintain her composure but fear wound around her spine, stopping at her throat. The guard from the front door was walking in their direction, bolstering her courage. She swallowed her panic and stood her ground. “I will not give you narcotics of any form. You need medical help to kick your addiction.”
No Greater Hell (Lost and Found, Inc. Book 4) Page 2