by Barbara Gee
His black eyes narrowed as he stared down at her. “Oh, but you do, darlin.’ A big brother who’s been way too soft all these years. Letting you live when he shouldn’t have. Good thing he finally came to his senses. You could’ve ruined everything.” He reached out, quick as a snake, and grabbed her arms again. “Come on. Enough playing around. I’ve been ignoring big bro’s calls for a while now, and I’ve got to get this done before he completely freaks out. I hate when he tries to micromanage.”
He moved toward the rocks again, more quickly this time. Callie continued to struggle but his grip only tightened. Hot, angry tears stung her eyes, then spilled over. As she bumped painfully along the ground, her thoughts went to Vince and a sob escaped. She wished she’d told him she loved him, because she did. So much. Now it was too late. She was going to die because this horrible man had mistaken her for someone else, and Vince would never know how much she cared.
No. She couldn’t think like that. Couldn’t give up. She had to focus on her surroundings and the man who had attacked her so brutally, in case there was one last chance to escape.
He stopped suddenly, and before she could react he bent her arms behind her back and jerked her upright, her back to his front. She tried kicking but he used one leg to immobilize both of hers.
“It’s good you’re as little as you are. Didn’t expect you to be so feisty.” He chuckled darkly, lifting her arms to a more painful angle. “I’m kinda surprised you have so much fight in you, considering you’re a Tate. Tates aren’t used to fighting their own battles.”
“I don’t know who the Tates are, but I promise you I’m not one of them,” Callie hissed, panting with the effort to break away from him.
“Oh, that’s right, you didn’t get the memo.” His arms locked around her waist, pinning her arms between them. He lifted her off her feet, moving forward a few steps, cursing when she kicked at his shins again. “It’d be better for you if you weren’t one of ’em, I can tell you that,” he ground out.
As a last resort, Callie flung her head backward with as much strength as she could find. It connected solidly with his face—a hard and very satisfying thunk against his nose. He uttered a new string of curses and his arms loosened slightly, just enough for Callie to get her arms free. She clawed at the hands locked around her stomach, knowing she had only seconds before he recovered.
He was good at this, though. Too good. His grip immediately tightened again, and this time his hands clamped around her wrists, holding them painfully tight. His arms were like a vice and she felt his anger, heard the breath hissing between his teeth.
“Thanks for that,” he growled. “Makes this a lot more enjoyable.”
Callie couldn’t hold back another sob. She looked at the rocky outcrop, their destination, and felt him pushing her closer.
I’m so sorry, Vince. I tried and tried but he’s just too strong.
The man spun her around and she saw the streams of blood coming from his nose.
“Please,” she whispered. His flat black eyes narrowed when he smiled, and then he stuck his boot behind her feet to trip her as he shoved. Hard. She fell backwards, unable to get her arms down in time to break the fall. He followed her down, grabbing her by the shoulders and heaving her up one more time.
He drug her the final few yards to the rocks, then lifted her, bringing her face close to his. “Bye bye, Miss Tate,” he muttered, his lips twisted cruelly.
With that farewell, he flung her backwards. Callie attempted to grab at him to stop the fall but she missed. Then she hit. Her head cracked against rock and she cried out with shock and an awful flash of pain. Everything went gray and fuzzy, but she could still see the shape of him. Could tell he was moving closer. She wanted to raise her arms to fend him off, but she couldn’t seem to get that message to go from her brain to her muscles.
She heard his grunt of satisfaction as he stood over her, then she saw his foot lifting. Even in her foggy state, she knew he was going to finish her off. She managed to turn her head just as he made contact, and felt his boot connect in a glancing blow to the back of her head.
And then there was no more fuzziness. There was nothing.
CHAPTER 31
“You’re within a half mile of the butte,” Sam told Tanner intently. “Take it a tiny bit more to the west. Wait! There! That’s her horse. He’s coming this way.”
“Riderless,” Tanner said grimly.
“We’ve got the SUV,” Lance said from his position beside Tuck, working from the second drone. “It’s parked by the road at the closest point to the butte.”
“He made no attempt to hide it,” Tuck added. “Hopefully that means he has no idea we’re onto him.”
“Keep your drone over that area, see if you spot him coming back,” Tanner said.
“Will do.” Tuck grunted. “I hope Smitty can convince Vince not to do anything until we know where the bad guy is. When he sees that horse, he’s gonna want to move in.”
“There he is! There’s the guy,” Lance said excitedly, pointing at the display. “He’s alone and heading toward the SUV at a run.”
“Radio Nathan and Boone,” Tuck said tersely. “Tell them to move in on the vehicle fast, and prepare for the guy being armed. He’s four hundred yards out and moving at a run.”
Sam grabbed the radio and relayed that information, getting an affirmative response from Nathan.
“Since we have the bad guy in sight, Smitty and Vince can head directly to the butte,” Tanner said. “Sam, get on the radio again and tell them no more hanging back. We’ll sweep the area for Callie and let them know the second we spot her.”
Brittany watched intently over Sam’s shoulder. “Callie’s wearing a red top,” she said quietly. “That’ll show up well.”
Tanner and Lance directed Nathan and Boone as they moved to intercept the bad guy at his vehicle, while Brittany, Tuck and Sam desperately searched the drone display for a glimpse of Callie.
“There’s the butte,” Sam said. “She’s gotta be close to it.”
“Watch carefully, and keep in mind she may be down and not be moving,” Tuck said grimly.
“There!” Brittany pointed at the screen. “That’s her. That’s her red shirt.”
“Okay, I’m dropping it down for a closer look,” Tanner said, circling the drone and taking it lower. “Tell Smitty and Vince where to go.”
Sam spoke anxiously into the radio. “We’ve got her, a hundred yards this side of the butte. Keep going in a straight line and you’ll see her. She’s in a group of rocks just off the cow path. She’s wearing red.”
Smitty asked the obvious. “Does it look like she’s okay? Is she mobile?”
Sam cleared his throat, his eyes meeting Tanner’s. He shook his head, then realized that was no help to the guys on the radio. “Um, she’s down and not moving. That’s all we can tell right now.”
***
No. No.
Vince pressed the accelerator to the floor and gripped the steering wheel so tightly his fingers cramped. This couldn’t be happening. Callie was okay. She had to be okay.
The radio came to life again, and this time it was Tanner’s voice, tense but calm. “We’re calling for an ambulance and an airlift, just in case. No visible injuries, but she’s definitely unconscious. Don’t move her, guys. Not even a little bit.”
Unconscious….or worse. That’s what he wasn’t saying, and Vince knew it.
Please, Lord. Please. His heart was in his throat, his head pounding.
“There are the rocks,” Smitty said softly, pointing ahead and to the right. As they moved swiftly closer, he added, “I see the red shirt.”
Slow motion. That’s how it felt to Vince, like they were hardly moving even though he had the accelerator to the floor. When they finally got close to the rocks, he slammed on the brakes and leapt out of the Gator. He didn’t have far to run but it was the same feeling—like he was in slow motion and couldn’t move his legs fast enough.
Wh
en he finally fell to his knees beside her his chest was heaving with exertion and emotion, and then he just froze, staring at her. At her deceptively peaceful face as she lay there, so still and silent. He needed to check for a pulse but he couldn’t. He couldn’t raise his hand to her neck, because what if........what if……..
Smitty came down beside him. The deputy reached out and pressed his fingertips to the side of her neck, and as he did so, Vince thought he saw her chest rise with a shallow breath.
“She’s breathing,” he murmured. “I think she’s breathing.”
“I’ve got a pulse,” Smitty confirmed. “Weak, but it’s there, and regular.” He grabbed his radio. “We’ve got her. She’s alive, no visible injuries, but unresponsive. Get the EMTs here quick.”
“Three minutes out, ten for the chopper,” Tuck responded. “The EMTs will be coming from the road. Watch for them and wave them in.”
“Did you get the guy?” Smitty asked.
“Oh yeah, Nathan and Boone made sure of that. He’s cuffed and waiting for the sheriff to show up and take him in. And since he’s up here from Louisiana, this deal is crossing state lines. That means Tanner and I will be involved in this one, too.”
Vince carefully picked up Callie’s right hand, noticing it was swollen and bruised. He stroked it, his fingers barely grazing her skin. What happened, baby? What did he do to you?
Smitty paced anxiously around the rocks, looking out at the road. “Ambulance should be pulling up soon. I’m gonna walk over toward the road and make sure they see me.”
Vince nodded, his eyes fixed on Callie, his fingers moving to her cheek. “Hang in there, sweetheart. Help is coming. I’m right here, I’m not gonna leave you.”
He kept talking to her, assuring her everything would be okay, and a couple minutes later he heard Smitty shout. Vince looked over to see the man waving his arms over his head, then motioning in their direction. Thank God, that meant the EMTs were coming. That was good, but he really wanted to hear the thump of rotors. Vince was very much afraid it was Callie’s head that was hurt, and with head injuries, an airlift to the nearest hospital with a trauma unit was the only way to go.
He carefully lifted her hair off the ground, pressing his fingers into the dirt and grass right beside her head. There. He lifted his fingers and saw the red, then he looked at the rocks. It was there, too. On a smooth rock just above her head and to the right. He closed his eyes and curled his fingers into his palm while he tried to gather his turbulent emotions.
“They’re coming,” Smitty said breathlessly, having run back over to them. He pressed his fingers to her neck again. “Feels the same. No weaker, at least.”
Vince showed him his blood-stained fingertips. “There’s blood by her head. And there.” He pointed to the rock.
“Dang,” Smitty said softly.
Two EMTs ran up then, hauling big bags of supplies and a stretcher. They were out of breath but immediately set to work getting Callie’s vitals. Vince warned them about the blood under her head, and they confirmed it, careful not to move her. One of them ran his hands over her legs and arms, searching for injuries hidden by her clothes.
“No obvious fractures of her limbs, but her right hand’s messed up,” he reported. He took a penlight and pried her eyelids up as he shone it in first one eye, then the other. “Pupils responsive,” His glanced at Vince, offering a small smile. “That’s good news,” he said.
Boone and Nathan ran up then. Boone clapped his hand on Vince’s back. “Bad guy’s in custody. How we doing here?”
One of the EMTs answered. “Head injury. We won’t move her until the chopper gets here.”
They worked on her for a while, constantly monitoring her vitals and getting an IV line in so they could start some fluids to counteract shock. The other men stood close by, all of them tense and not speaking.
“Any word on the ETA of the chopper?” one of the EMTs asked, looking up and scanning the sky.
He’d no sooner asked than a faint, tell-tale thump hit their ears. Nathan and Smitty quickly moved away from the group to establish the landing zone.
The EMT who’d spoken looked at Vince again. “I’m Drew. This is Cason. She seems stable right now, but we don’t want to move her until the chopper arrives. The crew will get her on a back board and fly her to Sherman Memorial Hospital, in Hatfield. Not as big as the hospital in Grand Forks, but a lot closer, and they have a first-rate trauma facility. Some say as good if not better than the bigger places. She’ll be in good hands there.”
Vince nodded, grateful for the man’s explanation, and for Boone’s comforting presence. He stood and moved out of the way, watching as Drew checked her blood pressure yet again.
“Pressure’s on the low side,” Drew said. “They’ll monitor her for shock in the chopper. They can use the line we started if they need to push a drug to counteract that.”
Vince and Boone watched in silence as the jet-powered helicopter dropped onto the grass, directed by Nathan and Smitty. Vince felt a surge of gratefulness to the people who were doing everything they could to make sure Callie was taken care of.
“We need to call Brittany,” he said as the doors opened and a man and a woman jumped down.
“I’ll do it,” Boone said.
“I don’t know her number, do you?”
“I’ll get it.” He walked away, already dialing.
Vince realized his hands were shaking. He shoved them in his pockets, feeling scared and helpless. He hated how much time was passing, but he knew there was no help for it.
The EMTs updated the air crew on Callie’s vitals and known injuries, then the four of them strapped her to a board and lifted her onto the flight stretcher.
“I feel blood and a gash, but no noticeable depressions,” the flight nurse who was holding Callie’s head said. She looked at the ground, where the extent of the bleeding was now visible. Vince felt his knees go weak at the size of the stain. Although much of the blood had soaked into the ground, it was evident that Callie had lost a considerable amount. The dirt looked saturated.
The four medical professionals carried the stretcher toward the helicopter. They efficiently lifted her into the bay, and the two aircrew hopped in behind her.
Drew walked back to stand by Vince. “They don’t allow passengers,” he said apologetically.
“I figured. I’ll get a ride to the hospital.”
“I’ll take you,” Nathan said. “My car’s still out on the road. We parked just around the bend where the perp couldn’t see it.”
“I’ll come too,” Boone said, coming up behind them. “I just talked to Brittany. Her friends are on the way to pick her up and they’ll meet us there. Smitty, you mind getting this Gator back to the barn?”
The deputy quickly agreed, and Vince offered him the use of his truck, since the man had arrived with Nathan and didn’t have his own vehicle. Smitty left in the Gator, the helicopter took off, and Vince, Boone and Nathan jogged toward the road, leaving the EMTs to gather up their equipment and return to the ambulance.
They all got into the official sheriff department car, Vince in front, and Boone in back. Boone took the opportunity to make some more calls, filling in Jolene and his mother, Kay, on the fact that Callie was injured and being life-flighted to Sherman Memorial. He didn’t get into the back-story about foul play, her uncertain heritage, and the possible involvement of a half-brother. That was a story that needed to be told in person, not over the phone.
Once Boone got off the phone, he and Nathan talked some to fill the uneasy silence. Vince gathered they knew each other from some kind of town committee they both served on.
Vince didn’t try to participate in the conversation. He stared out the window without seeing anything, more terrified than he’d ever been in his life.
He couldn’t get Callie’s face out of his head. Seeing her lying there on the ground and going to her, not knowing if she was dead or alive—that had been the worst moment he’d ever experi
enced. She’d been so completely still, so pale and lifeless, and he knew that image would haunt him for a long time to come.
She was alive, though, he kept reminding himself of that. She could have so easily been dead when they got there—her attacker must have thought she was. Thank God he’d taken off without checking.
The EMT had said she was stable. Vince was grateful, although he wasn’t sure how a person could be stable when she was lying unconscious in a field, in a mess of her own blood. She was alive though, and that meant she had a chance, right? Hopefully a good chance. She had to make it. He wouldn’t even let himself consider the possibility that he’d looked into those sparkling green eyes for the last time.
Don’t give up, Callie, please. Be strong. We’ll get through this, just be strong and come back to me. Let us have the future we talked about last night.
“How much further?” he asked when they’d been driving for fifteen minutes.
“We’re halfway. Another fifteen minutes,” Nathan said. “The chopper is probably there by now and they’re taking good care of her.” After a moment, he reached forward and pushed a button on his dash, and as he did so he mashed the accelerator. Lights and siren came on, and he gave Vince a grim smile. “Make that eight minutes out.”
“Appreciate it,” Vince said, making a mental note to somehow show the deep appreciation he felt for the first responders who had been nothing short of fantastic. Nathan, Smitty, Drew, Cason, and the flight crew. He’d make sure they knew he was grateful, when he got the chance, but right now he had to focus on Callie. Only Callie.
Nathan drove right up to the emergency department entrance. As their car came to a stop, they saw the helicopter lifting off from the other side of the hospital, then it quickly flew off in the opposite direction.
“Go on, I’ll meet you in there,” Nathan said. Vince and Boone got out and hurried toward the entrance. The young lady behind the reception desk looked startled when she looked up to see the two big men coming toward her so quickly.
