Soledad rolled her eyes skyward to help defuse the tension. “First, please stop being morbid. Things will never get to that point. Nothing is going to happen to you. And, second, you need to stop worrying. I will never let anything happen to my goddaughter. I promised you that, and I will keep that promise.”
Annie seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as she gave Soledad a nod. Her eyes shifted to stare out the window at the rain that had started to drop heavily. Another quiet moment passed as Soledad slowed her speed, fighting to see the road that lay ahead of them.
“What happened back at the house?” Soledad asked, her voice rippling through the silence like a pebble skipping across a quiet pond of water.
Annie took a deep breath. Lyra had begun to stir, the faintest squeak rising to a crescendo wail. “She’s hungry,” her mother muttered softly.
Soledad eyed them in the mirror as Annie lifted the baby from the car seat and undid the top buttons of her blouse. She discreetly covered herself with a blanket as Lyra latched on to her breast to nurse.
“I think he knew,” Annie finally said. She shifted her body around to extend her legs so that baby Lyra rested comfortably against her chest. “He’d been ranting all evening about what he would do if I ever thought about leaving him again. He said he had two bullets with my name on them. He said he’d make sure Lyra never knew who I was. That he’d find her a new mother.”
“Did you put the sleeping pills in his coffee?”
Annie nodded. “Just like we planned. I made his regular cup after dinner, like I always do. But he barely drank it. When I cleared the dishes away, his cup was still half-full. He was drinking bourbon instead, and you know he rarely drinks. I thought the alcohol affected him harder than I realized, because he fell asleep sooner than I anticipated. I figured he was just drunk enough that he’d be out of it long enough for me to stick to the plan. Once he was snoring, I threw on my clothes, grabbed the diaper bag and Lyra, and sneaked out of the house. But just as I disengaged the house alarm, he was screaming my name. I just ran!”
Soledad realized Annie was crying again, her tears falling on the blanket wrapped around the baby. Annie had tried leaving Gavin once, before Lyra had been born. She’d packed her things and had gone to her mother’s, determined to make a go of it without the husband who had promised her the world. Gavin had been relentless in his efforts to get her back. There had been promises of being a better man and trying harder. Assurances they would go to counseling to resolve the problems in their marriage. Every pronouncement had included some lavish gift: huge bouquets of Annie’s favorite white roses, gold and diamond baubles, and an excursion to Paris to profess his love. Promises that had held no weight once Annie had given in and gone back to him, every pledge a well-tuned lie.
Despite Soledad’s admonishments for Annie to not trust Gavin, nothing she said could convince her friend the good doctor wasn’t good at all. Annie desperately wanted to believe him, and Soledad’s frustration with the situation increased tenfold. That frustration had been so tangible that Soledad had actually feared the potential demise of their friendship.
Weeks after their reconciliation, Annie discovered she was pregnant. Eight months into her pregnancy, she’d walked in on Gavin and one of his many mistresses in their marital bed. Lyra came days later, and it was as if a perfect storm had converged on her best friend’s life. Postpartum depression, a colicky baby and Gavin’s emotional battering had left Annie bruised and broken. When Soledad had stepped in with a game plan, pleading with her bestie to choose herself and her daughter, Annie hadn’t hesitated. Now here they were, both women questioning if they’d be able to see those plans to fruition. Neither wanting to voice their concerns aloud.
Because Soledad had concerns, starting with the headlights that had been following them for the last few miles. She’d chosen this road because traffic was minimal at that hour. The vehicle behind her tonight, though, seemed to mimic her moves—slowing when she slowed, speeding when she sped. She didn’t recognize the vehicle, the car looking like a late-model sedan, a Cadillac, maybe even an Audi, and she was fairly certain it wasn’t Gavin. But fairly certain wasn’t certain enough. Under any other circumstances, she wouldn’t have given it a second thought. However, she knew what they were up against, and whoever followed behind them had her suddenly feeling anxious. Then, almost as if she’d spoken out loud, the distant lights disappeared from her view.
* * *
A wave of relief flooded Soledad. Outside, the rain had finally stopped. Lyra had drifted back to sleep and her mother was no longer shaking. They had only been driving some thirty minutes, but it felt like hours had passed.
“We’ll be out of the county in a few minutes,” Soledad said. “Now that the rain isn’t coming down in buckets, I can pick up the speed.”
“Don’t get another ticket, Soledad.”
Soledad joked, “I like my bad driver certificates.”
“Well, the state is going to like taking away your license if they have to give you another.”
The two women laughed, seeming to relax for the first time since their night had started. The local radio station was digging through its oldie-but-goodie song box, playing Rissi Palmer’s popular “Country Girl.” By the second verse, they both were singing loudly together, the baby lulled back to sleep by their voices.
For the briefest moment, it felt like old times, lost in a good time. For a split second, Soledad had not a care in the world, letting herself forget why they were traveling in the middle of the night, fleeing from a past that threatened a joyous future. Laughter rang warmly through the space. Then, just like that, their moment was stolen from them.
Chapter 2
The oversize SUV came from out of nowhere, its high beams shining into the back window of the Toyota. The intensity of light was glaring. Soledad depressed her brake, blinded by the onslaught of brightness reflecting off the rearview mirror and into her eyes. When the vehicle behind them slammed into the back of her car, she felt the steering wheel jerk out of her hands as the Camry spun out of control on the wet road. Soledad felt her stomach pitch with fright as she wrestled for control of the steering wheel. She wanted to scream, panic washing over her like a tidal wave, but no sound escaped her lips. Everything inside the car tossed from one side to the other and back again. Annie cried out loudly and the baby began to whimper. The moment was surreal and Soledad held her breath waiting for it to be over.
Gunshots suddenly shattered the rear window. She would never know which shot struck Annie, just that she heard her best friend scream a second time, the harsh sound cut off abruptly and replaced by Lyra’s pitiful wail. Even as it was happening, all she could think of was getting them away, needing to protect Annie and Lyra from the danger on their heels. Never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined that she wouldn’t be able to do that. Panic gave way to determination. Glancing at her side mirror, Soledad saw Gavin exit his vehicle, advancing on them, his gun raised.
Without a second thought, Soledad threw the car into Reverse and gunned the engine. She knocked him off his feet, then shifted the car into Drive, determined to put as much distance between them as she could muster.
Another round of shots rang out as she pulled away and the engine sputtered and stalled. The Camry rolled off the side of the road, heading for the tree line before slamming into a tall pine and coming to a full stop. Soledad’s survival instincts kicked into high gear, her reflexes shifting into overdrive. Stealing another glance behind her, Soledad watched as the man on the ground struggled to get onto his feet, falling on his back as he fought to catch his breath.
“We’re going to have to run,” Soledad said, turning to eye her friend. But Annie never heard her.
The moment felt like forever as realization settled over her. Soledad felt as if time had come to a standstill, everything spinning in slow motion. Annie was slumped forward, blood streaming down the sid
e of her face. One hand lay protectively over the baby, the cotton blanket clutched tightly between her fingers. Soledad scrambled out of the car and flung the back door open. She muttered her friend’s name over and over again, the mantra a loud, pitiful whisper.
“Annie, Annie, Annie, Annie, Annie!” she cried, tears streaming down her face. But Annie was gone, having taken her last breath. Her eyes were open, but the light that had shimmered in the oceanic orbs was gone. “Oh, Annie!” Soledad wailed, her fingers pressed to the dead woman’s cheek. She could never have previously imagined the level of hurt that suddenly consumed her now, every ounce of it slicing through her heart like a hot knife through butter. It flooded every vein and blood vessel in her body, like a virus gone awry. She had failed her best friend and she would never again be able to make it right between them. Soledad stifled a sob.
Knowing she had no time to grieve her loss, Soledad snatched the ergonomic baby carrier from the car’s floor and wrapped it around her torso. She reached to lift the baby from the car seat and settled the child against her chest.
Gavin’s deep baritone suddenly rang out in the darkness. From the corner of her eye, Soledad could see that he’d finally made it onto his feet. His legs were still shaky, but he was snarling like a wounded animal as he stumbled in her direction.
A single gunshot whizzed by Soledad’s head, barely missing her as she held tightly to little Lyra. Gavin fired a second and a third shot in her direction, loudly bellowing each time he pulled the trigger. Grabbing the diaper bag, Soledad paused for the briefest moment to squeeze her best friend’s hand one last time. Then she took off running into the trees, knowing their lives depended on it.
Behind her, Gavin was still shouting profanities. His rage filled the late-night darkness, haunting the stillness of the cool air. He screamed, his voice eventually fading with each step Soledad put between them. But his final words sent a chill up her spine.
“I’ll find you, Soledad! I will find you, and when I do, I’m going to kill you!”
* * *
Soledad knew enough from her days as a junior Scout that she was headed north. Beyond that, she didn’t have a clue where she was going, but desperation and terror kept her moving forward. Her heart was beating rapidly, feeling like it might burst from her chest, and she sucked in air as if it were her last breath. Tears rained from her eyes and her whole body shook with disbelief and sadness. She felt alone and scared and angry that Gavin had not only taken her best friend from her, but he now had her literally running for her life.
The clouds had cleared, and the stars were shining brightly. The boundary of thick trees began to fade, leading to an open clearing that seemed to go on for miles. With the full moon overhead, there was just enough light that she knew she’d reached farmland.
She slowed her pace, still cradling the baby closely to her. Surprisingly, the steady rhythm of her running had apparently lulled Lyra back to sleep. The infant was out like a light, oblivious to the fact that her whole world had just been ripped to shreds. She would never know her beloved mother, save the stories Soledad would one day share with her. And she’d be sure to also tell her about how Annie could sleep through a storm and never flinch, too.
She couldn’t help but wonder what she would tell Lyra about her father. She only hoped that when that time came, Gavin was six feet under or doing a life sentence with no possibility of parole.
Soledad pulled her rain jacket closed, zipping it around herself and her goddaughter. The temperature had dropped considerably with the storm, and the chill in the air felt bone deep. Soledad knew she needed to find refuge to protect Lyra, and herself, from the late-night elements. Off in the distance, Soledad noticed a light—and a light could mean shelter. She snuggled Lyra one last time, took a deep inhalation of air and began a slow jog toward help, praying that assistance would be available when she got them there.
* * *
Palmer Colton slipped his size-twelve feet into his favorite pair of rubber boots, the well-worn footwear years old and as comfortable as walking on air. The storm had finally passed, the downpour gone as quickly as it had risen. He had to make one last check on the animals, most especially Pharaoh, the young Arabian he’d recently acquired. He had purchased the horse to show, Pharaoh’s versatility and intelligence making him a natural at a variety of equine sports. Palmer had seen a bright future for the animal, and then Pharaoh had been diagnosed with a case of equine flu, a contagious viral infection. The colt had been quarantined, and Palmer imagined that between the move and now being ill, Pharaoh might be having some difficulty adjusting. He hoped a kind voice and gentle hand would ease the animal’s transition to his new home.
Jack, his Bernese mountain dog, suddenly nuzzled his palm and barked.
“What?” Palmer chuckled. “Am I not moving fast enough for you?”
The dog barked a second time.
“Okay, okay. I’m coming!” Palmer said as he stood upright and reached for his jacket.
Jack spun in a circle, his tail wagging excitedly.
Outside there was a distinct chill in the air, the evening temperature feeling more like fall and winter instead of the middle of the summer. There was a full moon, and even in the darkness, Palmer could see farther across the vast expanse of fields than usual.
Jack took off behind the large farmhouse, running at warp speed toward the line of trees that bordered the property. Palmer stared after him, thinking he saw something move in the distance. It was the briefest blip in the dark before it faded into the wave of shadows that danced over the landscape. More than likely a family of white-tailed deer roaming across the land, he thought.
Palmer walked to the barn, turned on the lights. Inside, he moved to the stall where Pharaoh stood, his head hanging just slightly over the stall door. He neighed when Palmer approached and ran his palm down the Arabian’s arched neck.
“Hey, big guy. Are you feeling any better?” Palmer said as he stepped inside the stall to give the colt a quick once-over. His nose was running, but the discharge had thinned considerably since his diagnosis. His breathing was only slightly labored, and he had a sporadic cough, his body’s natural reflex to the inflammation in his airway. The infection was viral, so there was little that Palmer could do other than keep the animal comfortable and let him get plenty of rest. The vet was scheduled to come back to check on him, so until then, it was a waiting game.
Palmer adjusted the gray blanket he’d thrown over the horse’s broad back the night before. “You’re going to be just fine,” he said, stepping out and securing the stall door behind him.
Pharaoh whinnied again as if in agreement.
A noise at the barn doors suddenly pulled at Palmer’s attention. Jack stood there, panting softly.
“Why do you look like trouble?” Palmer questioned, patting Jack’s head as the dog moved to his side and lay at his feet.
A bolt of lightning suddenly rippled across the night sky. The rain had returned, beginning to fall steadily. Storms rarely bothered Palmer, but something about the change in the air felt ominous. Things didn’t feel right, and he couldn’t begin to put his finger on it. Something was coming, but he didn’t know what the premonition meant.
“Jack, head to the house,” Palmer said, pointing his index finger.
Jack jumped and bolted out the door, heading for the home’s back porch. Palmer gave the horse one last pat, wished him a good night and then followed his four-legged friend.
* * *
Fear rippled deep in Soledad’s midsection as she paused. She came to an abrupt stop when she encountered the family of deer standing still, her presence having interrupted their midnight meal. She hadn’t stopped to consider the wild animals that might be in her path as she fled. In fact, there was little she was able to focus on—other than putting distance between them and Gavin. The sounds that emerged from the darkness suddenly felt like a horror movie wa
iting to write itself.
The dog, though, had been unexpected, a large furry bear of an animal with a tail that wagged nonstop and a tongue that hung lopsidedly out of its mouth. It had come barreling at her, and Soledad had stood defensively, ready to kick if it lunged. Her arms were wrapped protectively around the baby and the carrier, her stance defiant as she presented Fido with her side and back.
The dog had run around her twice, then sat, panting softly, its head cocked to the side as it stared at her. Soledad wasn’t sure whether to step or not, but when the large bundle of fur didn’t growl or attack, she kept nudging forward, talking to it as it moved in step with her.
“You must be the welcoming committee,” she said sarcastically. “I hope your humans are just as kind.”
Its tail wagged briskly.
“Do you have a name?” Soledad asked, the question coming as if the animal might actually answer.
The dog suddenly bolted in the direction they’d just come from. Soledad turned to look where it ran but couldn’t see.
Lyra suddenly stirred against her chest and Soledad patted her back gently. “We had company, Lyra,” she whispered loudly to the little girl. “I’m not sure where it’s run off to,” she said. “But you just go back to sleep, baby girl.”
Lightning suddenly lit up the dark sky and rain began to fall again slowly. Soledad cursed. “Damn it!” she said as she tucked the blanket and her jacket closer around the baby’s body. “I need to find us some shelter before we both catch pneumonia out here in this weather. Or your father catches up to us and keeps his promise to kill me.” She began to jog again, the light in the distance much closer. Then, above their heads, the sky opened with a vengeance.
Rescued by the Colton Cowboy Page 2
