by Vella Munn
“No! Noth there.”
“Why not?”
As she waited for the response she was afraid she wouldn’t get, she tried to put herself in his position. Walking into an emergency room said he’d admitted something was wrong with him. They might hospitalize him, remind him of what he’d gone through following his release.
“Who’s your doctor? I could call and see if you can be worked into his office, the sooner the better.” What are you thinking? He needs help now.
He shook his head so slowly she wondered if he was falling asleep. If he’d relax, she might be able to do the same herself. However, he remained tense and was now rubbing his temple. The dogs had crept so close they were in her way.
“You don’t have a doctor? How’d you get so old without needing one?”
Her attempt at humor elicited no response. As a veteran and former POW, hopefully he was eligible for some kind of medical compensation, but they weren’t near a VA hospital.
“All right. Here’s the deal. I pass by one of those immediate care centers on my way to work. We’re going there, now.”
She thought she’d have her work cut out for her getting him to let her take charge, so his nod should have eased her mind. Unfortunately it said he knew he was in trouble.
“Do you think you can stand? If you put your arm around me, I’ll help you down the stairs.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now.” Immediately. Before you get worse.
Joe had once been the most self-reliant person she’d known. She only had to look around his place to see how much work he’d done on his own. However, that wasn’t the man who struggled to stand. She positioned herself at his left side, wrapped his arm around her neck, clasped his limp hand and guided him, his left leg dragging, toward the door. She couldn’t remember where she’d put her purse. At least she’d left the keys in the car.
Joe shuffled. Twice he stopped and took deep breaths, then pushed forward. Getting past the front door seemed like a monumental accomplishment until she contemplated the stairs.
If only he had a neighbor she could rely on, but she didn’t believe he was close to any of them, and none were within shouting distance. The dogs had followed them. Once she had him in her car, she’d have to leave Joe and convince the grays to go inside.
One thing at a time. Priorities first.
Joe was in trouble. She had to get him to help.
“You know what I’m remembering?” she said so, hopefully, he’d have something other than the stairs to think about. “I didn’t know how to ride a bike when Mom and you got together.” She started forward, bringing him with her. “You bought me one without training wheels. I was scared and Mom was furious because you hadn’t asked her for permission.”
“I—remember.”
“You were so patient and calm. You ran beside me and I wasn’t nervous at all.” She squeezed him. “Didn’t I learn how to ride that first day?”
“Yeth.”
She should continue the conversation so she could pay attention to his speech. She could compliment him on his ability to get into a girl’s head, to risk her mother’s wrath—something that had happened a lot—but they’d reached the stairs.
One step at a time with his working hand clutching the railing. Standing slightly below him so she could catch him if he fell or at least cushion his landing. Trying not to let his labored breathing get to her and berating herself for not overriding him and making the nine-one-one call.
He stopped and leaned against the railing. Sweat ran off him. He felt clammy. The dogs seemed to know the two humans needed space, because they’d gone ahead and were waiting on the ground. If someone didn’t look too closely at Smoke’s chest, they wouldn’t know she’d been shot. Damn it, instead of paying attention to Joe, she’d wasted time on the dog!
Too late for regrets. Only getting him in her car mattered.
She relaxed a little when he slid his right foot to the edge of the stair. Then he started to crumple. Throwing her weight into him, she managed to lower him to the stair without hurting either of them. Close as she was to him, she couldn’t tell whether he’d passed out.
“Thorry,” he whispered.
I’m scared, Dad. Do you have any idea how scared I am? “Not a problem. You could—maybe you can slide the rest of the way on your butt.” Of course then she’d have to get him back on his feet for the marathon walk to her car.
As she listened to him breathe while continuing to prop him up, she remembered she was supposed to be on her way to work. She’d nearly talked herself out of dropping by his place. Thank God he wasn’t alone right now.
“Ready for another step?”
He moaned.
“What?” Her heart slammed in her chest. “Dad, what is it?”
“Hurths.”
Where was her cell phone? It was past time to get an ambulance here.
Cursing herself, she braced him with her hip and reached in her pocket for her cell. She’d gotten it out and was trying to activate it when she heard an approaching vehicle. The dogs started growling. Joe lifted his head but didn’t speak.
Relief both weakened and gave her strength when she recognized the animal control SUV. No matter what the officer—maybe it was Nate—had come here for, Joe needed help.
The morning sun struck the front windshield so she couldn’t see the driver. The grays stood in a tight group. Their tails didn’t wag and three sets of fangs left no doubt of their mood.
The driver’s door opened almost before whoever it was had turned off the engine. Nate fairly bolted out and started toward her. Then he acknowledged the dogs and stopped.
“What is it? Did Joe hurt—?”
“I think he’s having a stroke.” Yes, stroke. Classic symptoms.
“Rachelle, the dogs—”
“Sith. Sit.”
Joe’s voice barely carried, but the trio immediately dropped their haunches to the ground.
“Okay, all right.” Nate sounded as shaken as she did. He raked his hand through his hair. “Have you called for an ambulance?”
“I was just—” She held up her phone.
Demonstrating his ability to multitask, he killed the distance between them while retrieving his own cell from his waist. His message was clipped and efficient. An ambulance was needed, immediately. That done, he knelt beside her. Much as she hated turning the task of supporting her dad over to anyone, she was relieved as Nate eased the older man into a more comfortable position.
Nate stared at Joe. Emotion poured out of him, but she couldn’t make sense of it. His mouth tight, he shook his head. “Not having one of your better days, are you, Joe? Let me guess, you told Rachelle no way did you need to go to a hospital. Next time you get stubborn on us, remember today.”
Joe didn’t say anything, but he had to hear. Nate sounded so calm she would have relaxed if not for the question of what he was doing here. As he started talking—he chatted about things she paid no attention to—the hair along the grays’ spines settled. The way Nate had positioned himself, she concluded he was listening to Joe’s breathing.
Thank God he was here. Her dad would be all right, he had to be! Once he’d been diagnosed and treated, she’d thank Nate, let him know—
“That’s blood.”
Startled, she realized Nate was talking about her pants’ legs. Her mind raced, searching for an explanation but couldn’t find one.
“Yes.”
“Whose is it?”
“Smoke’s. She— Not now.”
“But later.”
No! “All right.”
“Joe?” Nate sounded as if he were speaking to a frightened child. “Would you like to lie down? The stair’s hard but…”
When Joe didn’t respond, Nate stared at her. She stared back. Of all the people in the world, she should least want this man with his agendas and danger to her dad and the dogs around, but he cared about Joe.
And he cared about her—at least about the pain she wa
s in.
When the ambulance screamed into sight, a sob escaped her. She wasn’t relieved so much as trapped. The flashing lights made everything real. There was no turning back. Joe, her dad, would be heading for the hospital.
“Rachelle, you need to get the dogs inside.”
Feeling stupid for not having thought of it herself, she called the trio to her. Once they were by her side, she walked to the door and opened it. All three set their legs. The ambulance personnel waited by the vehicle.
“Come on,” she crooned. “I’m sorry. I know you want to stay with him, but there’s nothing you can do now. Come on, please. Let the EMTs do their job.”
Maybe she’d gotten her point across because one by one they brushed past her and went inside. Thinking to make sure there weren’t any open windows, she followed them. The house was too quiet, a lonely space without the human presence that made it feel alive.
Don’t be dying, Dad. We’re just starting to—you and I need each other.
By the time she’d completed her task with the trio silently shadowing her and had closed the door behind her, the EMTs were loading Joe—Dad—onto a stretcher. Except for the monitors attached to it, his chest was bare.
“Do you know where the hospital is?” Nate asked from where he stood on the porch.
Tearing her gaze off Dad, she acknowledged him. “Yes.”
His expression was grim, and his eyes were full of more things unsaid. What, she needed to know, was he doing here?
Later. Right now I can’t deal with anything else.
“I know you want to be with him,” Nate said. “Do you think the dogs will be all right alone for a while? Securely locked in. What about the school, a substitute?”
Still holding onto her cell phone, she stared at him. He was doing more than dealing with his own emotions. He was thinking for her, giving her something to do, keeping her on task and from breaking down.
“Did they”—she indicated the ambulance personnel—“say anything?”
“No. Look, I think I’d better drive you.”
His comment pulled her out of the fog wrapped around her. The idea of being trapped in the official vehicle with him during a stressful ride to the hospital was more than she could face. He might say—something.
“No. I want my car with me. Ah, I appreciate—I don’t know what I would have done without you.” Ask. Putting it off won’t make it better. “What are you doing here?”
He touched her shoulder, the contact so light she didn’t understand why it meant so much. “That can wait. Rachelle, I really don’t want you driving.”
The rear ambulance door closed, locking Dad inside the last place he wanted to be. “I’m fine,” she insisted when they both knew she wasn’t. “Thanks to a mother who mostly let me raise myself, I’m a pretty strong broad.”
“Joe matters to me too. I—”
A faint buzzing sound silenced him. As he reached for his cell, she stepped away from him so they could carry on their separate conversations, and so she could watch the ambulance leave.
Her principal wasn’t happy to hear his newest employee wouldn’t be at work today, especially the last-minute notice. She’d fudged a bit, telling him her father had had a stroke. Yes, she said in response to his semi-attempt at sympathy, she’d give him an update as soon as she could.
“You’re sure about being able to get to the hospital on your own?” Nate asked when she was done. He indicated his phone. “Something has— I guess I need to deal with this.”
Moments ago she’d felt connected to the animal control officer in ways she never had with another human being, but that was over. He was a man with a job to do.
“Does it involve the grays?” Her stomach clenched.
“Not now, but I think it did earlier.”
“I can’t— Was there another attack?”
Yes, his expression told her.
“God,” she muttered. “What—”
“Not now! Go to the hospital. I have to respond to a complaint. We’ll deal with why I needed to see Joe later.”
“Later won’t make it any better.”
“Rachelle, right now neither of us is in any condition to face more than what’s happening to Joe. Call me as soon as you know something.”
What are you keeping from me? Shaken by how vulnerable she felt, she nodded. Then before she could stop herself, she held out her hand. “Thank you.”
Suddenly his arms were around her and she clung to him, her cheek pressed against his chest. They embraced while she fought tears and took strength from the compassionate man. Something that had nothing to do with gratitude and everything to do with being a woman stirred inside her, and for several seconds she rode the wave.
“I, ah, needed that,” she muttered and pushed back. She’d been shaky since things started going south with Joe, but this was different. Beyond the other thing between them. Man and woman. “I don’t know how I could have handled this on my own.”
“Yeah.” He sounded as off balance as she did. “Good—timing on my part.”
Alerted to the change in his tone and expression, she looked to where his gaze had gone. The dogs were at the window, watching them.
“Shit,” he said. “Ah shit.”
“What?”
“Get out of here,” he snapped. “Take care of him.”
And after that?
Chapter Eighteen
“You’re right,” Nate told Opal Sather. “I haven’t been out there for at least a month. It was on my agenda for tomorrow.”
A half hour ago he’d been debating whether to let Rachelle know that her hellish day was going to get a lot worse. Now, instead of letting his manager know he had no doubt of the identity of the dogs that had killed the poacher, he was on the phone with a woman who would love nothing more than to see her neighbor behind bars.
Still at Joe’s place, he sat in his vehicle trying to concentrate on what Opal was saying. Rachelle had gone inside for a final check of things before heading to the hospital. The grays continued to study him through the front window. Nerves prickled at the back of his neck. He’d like to believe the dogs were trying to thank him for helping Joe, but there was no gratitude in their expressions.
More like suspicion and a mesmerizing power he couldn’t escape.
“I’ve never liked the man,” Opal said. “You know that.”
“Yes, I do. You’re concerned his horses still aren’t getting enough food, is that it?”
As Opal launched into her latest tale of Marti Nedrow’s shortcomings, Nate watched the dogs. From here he couldn’t tell which gray was which. Rachelle had indicated that Smoke had been injured. Maybe the injury would compel Joe to stop letting the dogs run, if he lived.
What was he thinking? The grays’ days were limited.
And, judging by their stares, they knew.
How can that be? Do your job. Tell Crosby.
“You have to come out today,” Opal demanded. “I just filled the water troughs. They were bone dry. That man has no business owning so many horses. What is he thinking? He can’t afford to feed them. Only a millionaire could.”
Opal had a point. At the same time her view of the situation was clouded by her hatred of Marti. There was a long-running feud among several members of the ranching community along Ball Road that had something to do with property lines and water rights. According to Opal, the last thing her deceased husband would have ever done was lease pastureland to a Nedrow. However, Marti maintained that the lease arrangement had been set up by his father long before Opal and her husband came on the scene.
He didn’t care about the dispute. What mattered was that this wasn’t the first time Opal had called his department complaining about how Marti treated his horses. If Nate was running the world, he would have taken possession of the nearly forty horses to protect them from Marti’s inconsistent handling of the herd. But not only couldn’t the humane society in its current financial structure feed so many horses, every time
he’d pointed out to Marti that ribs were starting to show, Marti had said the right things. He’d never deliberately mistreat his horses. Either he’d had a temporary money crunch or hay was in short supply or he’d been working overtime but that would soon be remedied.
That’s what the public and county commissioners didn’t understand. Yes, dogs killing human beings was his department’s number one priority, but they weren’t the beleaguered staff’s only concern.
“Here’s what I hope to do,” he told Opal as Rachelle came outside. “I’m in the middle of something important and there are several visits I need to make, but I’ll try to run by the Nedrow place today.”
“I hope so. I’m so damn tired of watching those horses’ weights go up and down. And the way he keeps his barn door locked, I know it’s so he can keep me out.”
Nate wasn’t sure he was saying what Opal wanted to hear as he again promised to head her way as soon as he could, but truth was he couldn’t concentrate.
What was wrong with him? One phone call, one word from him and by the time news of Taggart Griffin’s savage killing broke, the guilty parties would be behind bars. Awaiting death.
Rachelle’s slacks were wet where Smoke’s blood had stained the fabric and she’d tried to wash it off. Her mouth was thin, her eyes wide. She stared at the step Joe and she had been on when he arrived, leaving him with no doubt that she was reliving the nightmare.
I’m so sorry, but I’m going to have to hand you another nightmare. As soon as we know how Joe is.
That was it! He wouldn’t say anything until Joe was out of danger.
You can’t do that, a voice he hated insisted. You have a responsibility to the entire county.
When she reached the ground, Rachelle acknowledged him. Wondering if his expression would reveal too much, he wound down his window and held up his cell. “I wanted to take this before I started driving. Be careful.”
She closed her eyes. “I will.”
“As soon as I can, I’ll come to the hospital.”
Her eyes opened, and he read exhaustion, shock and determination. “You don’t have—”