Ranger's Baby Rescue
Page 21
A thousand memories flooded her mind as her heart contracted painfully. Scenes from their childhood flashed before her eyes, and the sound of his voice echoed in her ears. Her nose burned as she fought the urge to cry.
The man glanced over, one brow raised. “Guess you care a little more than you thought.”
Emma didn’t respond. She took a deep breath and kept walking. As much as it pained her, she didn’t have the luxury of mourning Joseph now. There would be time for that later.
If she survived.
She slowed her steps as they neared the semi. The man noticed, looking back with a frown. “Come on.”
“No.” Emma stopped, planting her feet in place. “I’m staying here. You bring my mother to me, and I’ll hand you the baby.”
He eyed the carrier with suspicion. Emma discreetly pushed the button on the remote, making the legs kick a few times.
“Fine,” he muttered. “Whatever.” He pulled his radio free from his belt and said something she couldn’t make out. A few minutes later, Emma saw movement at the back of the trailer. Her mother walked into the parking lot, blinking at the sunlight. She was flanked by two men, but Emma only had eyes for her.
The truck engine roared to life, the semi nosing its way out of the parking spot.
“Does she know about Joseph?”
“Seeing as how he was killed in front of her, yeah.” The trafficker’s tone was casual, as if he inflicted this kind of cruelty on a daily basis.
In that moment, Emma could have killed him with her bare hands. Only her mother’s precarious position kept her from wrapping her fingers around his throat and squeezing the life from him.
“You’re a monster,” she said, raising her voice to be heard above the noise of the truck, which had pulled closer to their position.
He turned to face her, his eyes cold and hard. “No. Just a survivor.”
He lifted his arm, pointing the gun at her mother. Too late, Emma saw what she had missed before. The semitruck had pulled between them and the diner, obscuring them from view of the people seated within. They were going to kill her mother and probably her, then drive off with the baby carrier before anyone realized what had happened.
Acting on instinct, Emma gathered all her strength and swung the carrier at the man. She made contact with his shoulder, hitting his arm just as he fired.
One of the men flanking her mother jerked and dropped to the ground, apparently struck by the errant bullet. Emma didn’t have time to worry about the other guard—she was still focused on the man in front of her.
He turned to her with an expression of murderous rage. “You bitch!” he shouted. He tried to lift his arm again, this time to shoot her. She threw the carrier at him, hitting him solidly in the chest.
She didn’t wait to see how he reacted. She pivoted on her heel and dived for her mother as a thunderous boom split the air next to her. She dragged her mom to the ground, noting with some surprise the other guard was now lying motionless on the cement.
There was another loud noise, followed by a pained cry. She glanced behind her to find the man from the diner on his knees, holding his stomach. His eyes were full of shock and pain as he dropped to the ground.
A roar filled the air as the driver gunned the engine and stepped on the gas. As the truck jerked forward, Emma saw people pouring out of the diner, all manner of weapons in their hands. The truck made for the exit, but a quick succession of pops was followed by a loud burst of air as several of the truck’s tires blew out. The semi swerved onto the road, lurching drunkenly. She watched in amazement as Skip’s car raced up from behind, running the big truck off the road before it could get very far.
Emma turned back to her mother, who was huddled on the ground, her thin shoulders shaking. “It’s okay, Mom. It’s going to be all right.”
People surrounded them, their hands gentle as they helped her mother lie flat. “We’re field medics, ma’am,” said one of the men who was leaning over her. “We’re going to take care of you until the ambulance arrives.”
The circle of people closed around her mother, and Emma stepped back to find a few people working on the man from the diner. She stepped over to lend a hand.
A quick glance at his injury told her he wasn’t long for this world. Emma knelt and shook his shoulder. “Tell me about your boss,” she said. He had to know he was going to die—maybe it would loosen his tongue, and the authorities could put an end to this organization.
He opened his eyes, staring up at her with undisguised hatred. “Why should I do that?” he wheezed. He coughed, then winced, closing his eyes again.
“This is your last chance to do something good,” she said. “Why not try to earn a little forgiveness before you die?”
He cracked open his eyelids. “Maybe you’re right,” he said. His voice was so quiet she had to lean forward to hear. He craned his head up to meet her, and his mouth split into a terrible grin.
“See you in hell.”
“Gun!”
She heard the shout even as the man brought his hand up, pressing his weapon into her stomach, just below the edge of the vest she wore. A thunderous roar of shots sounded, and the man’s body jerked as a hail of bullets tore into him. His arm moved, but not enough. A hot knife of pain slid just under her ribs, knocking her back onto the ground.
Emma stared up at the sky, too dazed to move. Faces came into her field of vision, all of them frowning. People began to poke and prod at her, but she was rapidly growing numb to the sensations. Her vision grew hazy as darkness closed in. Just before it took her, Matt’s face came into view. She frowned, tried to reach up to touch him. But the effort was too much, and she slipped away without a sound.
Chapter 15
The hospital waiting room was chilly and smelled so strongly of disinfectant it made the inside of Matt’s nose burn. Christina was deeply unhappy—her eyes were swollen and red-rimmed from crying, though she was quiet at the moment. He offered her a pouch of applesauce, but she turned up her nose in refusal. She had to be hungry; it had been hours since he’d last fed her while they waited in the burger place. But the baby refused to eat and showed no interest in toys, either.
“Ma, ma, ma,” she wailed. The little one wanted her mother, that much was clear. Her distress broke Matt’s heart. He was willing to move heaven and earth to make her happy again, but the one thing he couldn’t do right now was reunite her with the person who was her world.
He scooped her up and began to pace the empty waiting room. Dave and Skip, along with the members of their team, were still at the truck stop talking to the police, who’d arrived shortly after the ambulance. Matt hadn’t bothered to stick around; he’d climbed into the back of the ambulance, carrying Christina in her car seat, refusing to leave Emma’s side. The paramedics had initially resisted letting him and the baby come along, but they’d given in after Matt had made it clear he wasn’t going anywhere.
Now Emma was in surgery, and he and Christina were relegated to this hospital purgatory while they waited for an update.
His mind was in high gear, flitting from one thought to another without really landing anywhere. He felt scattered, unsettled, pulled in a thousand different directions. Was Emma going to survive? If she didn’t, what was he going to do? Emma had asked him to give Christina to her aunt, but could he follow through? He loved this baby—he wasn’t sure he could stand to lose both her and her mother.
He paused before a monitor hung on the wall, reading the text on the screen. Emma was the only patient in surgery right now. He’d hoped for an update, but her status seemed to be stuck on “in progress.”
Maybe that’s okay, he thought. She might already be done, and someone’s just forgotten to punch it into the computer. The operating room was probably a pretty busy place, and updating the monitors in the waiting room was likely low on the list of priorities. With any luc
k, Emma was being wheeled to recovery right now, still groggy from the anesthesia but on the road to recovery.
Or maybe her injury is worse than it looked. He’d only caught a glimpse of her side in the ambulance. From what he’d seen, the bullet had entered just below the bottom curve of her rib cage, on the right side. He racked his brain, trying to recall what organs were in that vicinity. Stomach? No, he realized with a creeping sense of dread. It’s the liver.
His heart dropped and he cursed quietly. The liver was a pretty important part. Hopefully hers wasn’t damaged beyond repair...
Without knowing it, Matt tightened his grip on Christina. She let out a yelp of protest, making him jump. She started to cry as he began to sway back and forth, sputtering apologies as he moved.
“She’s scared, just like you.”
Matt turned at the voice to find Emma’s mother sitting in a wheelchair. A hospital orderly locked the wheels into place and straightened. “Can I get you anything before I go?”
“No, thank you, dear,” she said. Her gaze never left Christina; she looked at the baby with a powerful hunger in her eyes that was obvious despite the bandage obscuring part of her left eye.
The orderly left the room, and Matt walked over to the woman. “Matt Thompson,” he said, taking the chair next to her. “I helped your daughter look for Christina.”
“I’m Maria,” the older lady replied. She reached out to touch Christina’s leg. “Are you all right, sweetheart?”
Christina turned to hide her face in his neck. Matt felt pleased but mildly embarrassed by her reaction. “I’m sorry,” he said. “She’s just really upset right now, and—”
Maria waved off his words. “It’s fine. I don’t look like myself, and the child has been through quite a lot recently.” She studied him for a moment, her expression reminding him of Emma’s scrutiny when they’d first met. “We all have,” she murmured, her eyes welling with tears.
Matt’s heart went out to the woman. Not only had she been slapped around by the traffickers, she’d been forced to watch them kill her son. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” he said, wishing there was something else he could say to help ease her pain.
She smiled sadly, then nodded at him in acknowledgment. With a visible effort, she changed the subject.
“I’m glad to see Christina is so comfortable with you”
“Me, too,” Matt said simply.
They sat in silence for a few moments. Christina gradually began to sneak glances at her grandmother, who pretended not to notice. Eventually, she reached out a chubby hand and placed it on Maria’s arm.
“Can you hold her? Or will it hurt you?”
“I don’t care if it does hurt. I want to hug my baby girl.”
Matt carefully placed Christina on Maria’s lap, smiling at their reunion. Then he turned his gaze back to the monitor, hoping to see an update...
“Do you love her?”
Matt glanced back at Maria, debating on how to respond. Part of him wanted to hedge and tell her he cared about Emma. After all, he hadn’t said those three words to Emma yet, and shouldn’t she be the first to know? But he took one look at Christina and knew he had to be honest. If the worst happened, if Emma were to die on the table... He wanted Maria to know that he loved her daughter, and her granddaughter. He wanted to be a part of their lives for as long as they would have him.
“Yes,” he said simply.
“Emma?” Maria asked. “Or Christina?”
“Yes,” he repeated.
She nodded, as if confirming some private suspicion. After a few minutes, Christina started babbling “da, da, da.” He glanced over to find her reaching for him.
He scooped her up and held her close. His heart lightened a bit as she patted his chest. What was it about this baby that could brighten even his darkest days? “There’s my girl,” he said, smiling at her.
“Yes,” murmured Maria. “I believe she is.”
Her remark filled him with joy, but before he could respond, the door to the waiting room opened and the surgeon walked in.
Matt tried to read the woman’s expression as she approached, but she had a mean poker face. She pulled up a chair and sat, leaning forward to brace her elbows on her knees.
“Emma’s out of surgery,” she said. “It was a complicated operation, but she did well. We had to remove parts of her liver, but there’s enough left that it shouldn’t affect her day-to-day life.”
Matt felt something loosen in his chest, and for the first time since seeing Emma lying in the parking lot, he took a deep breath. “So she’s going to be okay?”
The woman nodded. “If we don’t see any complications in the coming days, I think she’ll make a good recovery.”
He frowned, not liking the sound of that. “Complications?”
The surgeon shrugged. “There are always risks after this type of operation. But we’ll be monitoring Emma closely. She’s an otherwise healthy woman. Try not to worry. Just focus on your daughter—let us take care of your wife.”
Matt didn’t bother to correct her as she rose and walked out of the waiting room. He turned to Maria with tears of relief in his eyes, only to find her crying, as well.
“She’s going to be okay,” he said, reaching for the older woman’s hand.
She nodded, too overcome with emotion to speak.
Acting on instinct, Matt leaned forward and put his arm around her, hugging her gently as he cradled Christina against his chest. So this is what it feels like.
Maria pulled back a bit. “What did you say?”
He blushed, not realizing he’d spoken the words aloud. “I was just thinking this is what it feels like to have a family.”
She smiled and patted his cheek. “All it takes is love.”
And just like that, all of Matt’s worries about the future faded into insignificance. The distance between Alpine and El Paso, their two jobs, their separate apartments—none of it really mattered. He loved Emma, and he loved Christina. That was all that was important. They would work the rest of it out, handling things as they came up. They were starting with a foundation of love. What more could they need?
“Have you told her yet?” Maria asked.
“Ah, no,” he replied. “Not yet.”
Maria merely arched an eyebrow. “I know,” he said sheepishly, ducking his head. “But the time was never right.”
“And now?”
“I’m not going to wait anymore,” he promised. “I’m going to tell her soon.”
“Good.” Maria dabbed at her eyes. “After the events of the past few days, I need something happy in my life. Lord knows Emma deserves it, as well.”
Yes, she does, he thought. And hopefully he was the man who could make her happy.
Three days later
Emma adjusted the angle of the hospital mattress, wincing slightly as the motion pulled at her stitches. She was still sore from the operation, but growing stronger by the day. The doctors said she might be able to leave in a couple of days, and she was already counting down the minutes.
Not that she was lonely. Her mother visited frequently, as did Matt and Christina. They were staying in a nearby hotel, and according to her mother, Matt was taking excellent care of her baby.
Emma wasn’t surprised to hear it, but she was going crazy being away from her daughter for so long. Her spirits soared every time Matt brought her in for a visit, and her heart crashed back to earth every time they left. She knew a hospital was no place for an active baby, but that didn’t stop her from missing her little one.
She appreciated all that Matt was doing for her—he’d basically put his life on hold to take care of her mother and Christina until Emma was released from the hospital. Still, a small part of her wished he would leave already. It felt like their goodbye was being prolonged, a long, slow stretch that was going to hur
t all the more when it was finally over. She’d prefer to get through it quickly, like ripping off a bandage. The pain would still be there, but the acute sting would fade faster than this parting by inches.
Even though her personal life was in turmoil, Emma took comfort from the fact that the traffickers were being brought to justice. Detective Randall had sounded practically giddy when he’d called to let her know the status of the case. Dave and Skip and their people had lived up to Matt’s esteem; they’d subdued all the traffickers at the diner and called in the authorities to make arrests. The police and FBI were having a field day questioning everyone, and apparently the mid-level manager in charge of things was cooperating in exchange for protection.
It made her angry to know the man who had overseen the killing of her brother and the torture of her mother might walk free. But hopefully the information he provided could help the police save other lives.
Joseph’s face flashed through her mind. It didn’t seem real that he was gone. She hadn’t gotten to say goodbye. But really, what would she have told him? His recent actions had poisoned her feelings toward him. Logically, she knew she shouldn’t throw away a lifetime of memories, but she wasn’t sure how to process her brother’s death. It was a complicated issue, one that would take her a long time to work through.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a perfunctory rap on her door. Matt poked his head into the room. “Morning,” he said with a smile.
She smiled back, anxious to see Christina. “Hello.”
He walked in and immediately passed the baby to her. Emma pressed her nose to her daughter’s hair and inhaled deeply, the baby scent filling her lungs and bringing with it a sense of bliss. She kissed one petal-soft cheek, then rubbed her nose against Christina’s, to her baby’s delight.
Matt watched them from the chair, his pale blue eyes full of warmth. “She has a new trick,” he said.
“Oh? What’s that?”
“She’s using the furniture to pull herself up, and she’s now able to stand unassisted for several seconds at a time.” He sounded like a proud father, as though she’d discovered the cure for cancer instead of her sense of balance.