by Lois Richer
His face was still too pale, but he managed a faint smile. More of a grimace, really, but an attempt to stay awake. “If I have any toes left.”
Ouch. “My brother should be here soon. Don’t worry. We’ll get you out of here and that pedicure will be on the house. All ten toes.”
“Optimist.” The word had weakened, tapering off at the end so that it sounded more like ‘optimisss.’ Not good. Come on, Austin.
“Do you always drive off into strange places during raging thunderstorms? And why Whisper Falls? Visiting relatives?” When he didn’t answer, she touched his arm. “Come on, Heath, stay awake.”
“Late start.” He was trying. She’d give him that much. “GPS...not too dependable.”
“You got lost. Figures. Anyone can get lost out here.” And he probably had been too proud and stubborn to stop and ask directions. Darrell had been like that, confident the location was right around the corner. “Mountains and trees are not impressed by modern technology.”
He closed his eyes again, worrying Cassie. The car engine was still engaged, and a quick glance at the dash indicated plenty of gas. At least he’d had the presence of mind to fill up sometime in the recent past. They were warm and secure, the thunderstorm subsiding somewhat as it moved toward the east, though the rumbles continued and lightning flickered.
“Thunderstorms here are pretty spectacular. The noise echoes for miles.” His cheek twitched but he didn’t answer. Cassie reached for his pulse. “Are you still with me?”
“Yeah.” The word was barely a whisper.
Was he bleeding internally? Going into shock? Cassie’s mind raced, but all she could come up with were scenes from General Hospital and crazy words like subdural hematoma. Whatever that was.
The car grew silent. Cassie thought she should be doing something proactive but didn’t know what. So she sat beside the injured man and chatted away about Whisper Falls and every single head of hair she’d ever groomed, praying that Austin and an emergency crew would get here soon. The man would know more about Whisper Falls than she did—if he could remember.
“Heath?” she said, shaking his shoulder.
His eyes fluttered up. Did they look more glazed now than before?
“You’re pretty,” he mumbled. “Got a boyfriend?”
Yes, he was delusional. Delirious. Poor man.
“No. My husband died.”
“Sorry.”
Not wanting to discuss Darrell’s death, she shifted the topic to him. “What about you? Any significant other I should call? Girlfriend? Wife?”
“No more.”
Okay, so he was either divorced or had recently broken it off with a girlfriend or worse, like her, his spouse had died. A curl of empathy circled through her. Being alone hurt. No matter how she’d tried to fill her life with activities, she missed the closeness of being a couple. She missed Darrell. In fact, she’d been missing him the day she’d climbed Whisper Falls. And guess what? Her prayer hadn’t been answered. She was still laughing at herself over that silly episode.
“Who are you visiting in Whisper Falls?”
“Police chief.”
“JoEtta Farnsworth?”
“Know her?”
His words were definitely slurring.
“Everyone in Whisper Falls knows Chief Farnsworth. Tough, fair and...eccentric to say the least. Are you related?”
The chief had kids somewhere but Cassie couldn’t recall whether they were male or female or where they lived. One thing for certain, they didn’t come around Whisper Falls too often. Heath’s last name was different but that didn’t mean much these days, and if Heath was the chief’s son, he was a jerk of the first order for never coming to see his mother. JoEtta was gruff and rough but a good person.
Whatever the connection, Heath didn’t answer. The car went silent again except for the endless drip of rain from the overhanging trees.
“Heath?”
He didn’t move.
She touched him. “Heath.”
He didn’t respond.
“Come on, pal, stay with me. I don’t like it when you take naps. It’s not fair. You can’t nap if I can’t.”
Heart in her throat, she grabbed his wrist, felt for a pulse. A thready beat pulsated against her fingertips.
“Heath, wake up. Talk to me.”
He didn’t.
Help needed to get here and it needed to get here now.
Copyright © 2014 by Linda Goodnight
ISBN-13: 9781460327975
PROTECTING THE WIDOW'S HEART
Copyright © 2014 by Lorraine Beatty
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The publisher acknowledges the copyright holders of the individual works as follows:
North Country Family
Copyright © 2014 by Lois M. Richer
Small-Town Midwife
Copyright © 2014 by Jean Chelikowsky Gordon
Protecting the Widow’s Heart
Copyright © 2014 by Lorraine Beatty
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All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
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