“He also said they ran the blood I collected at the Landers cabin through the federal DNA database.”
“Did they come up with anything?”
“A fellow by the name of Sebastian Wyatt.”
She frowned. “I don’t recognize that name. Do you have a picture?”
“They’re still searching for one. Apparently he’s managed to stay off the radar.”
“I see. What about Kat? Anything from her?”
“Clay said she might have something, but didn’t want to say what until she was sure.”
She grimaced and felt Sam’s forehead again. “He’s getting hotter, not cooler. I need to give him some ibuprofen.”
“Do you have any?”
“Yes, there’s a bottle of children’s ibuprofen in my backpack. Please tell me you grabbed it.”
“It’s in the duffel.”
Relief crossed her face. “I was so worried about getting Sam out of the house and to safety I didn’t even think about the backpack. It has all of his papers in there, too.”
“I figured you might want it.” He pulled her backpack from the larger bag, set it on the sofa and opened it.
“Second section,” she said. “I just dropped it in there.”
He found the bottle and popped the lid. “Two?”
“Yes. Sometimes he’ll take them and sometimes not.”
“Grape flavored. I might like a couple myself.” He tapped two of the chewable pills into her outstretched palm.
“Thanks.” She turned to Sam and rested a hand on his thin shoulder. “Hey, buddy, I need you to wake up and take these.”
Sam ignored her. She sat him up anyway. He grunted and pulled away from her then lay back down on his side. She sighed and dropped her head. “It’s no use trying to force him. The last time he was sick, he refused to take the medicine and his fever shot up. Fortunately, Yousef was away on a business trip and we were able to get him to a doctor. Sam had to be hospitalized for strep for two days in order to get the medicine in him. They had to sedate him,” she said softly and brushed her hand across the boy’s head again.
“Why did Yousef have to be away?”
“He wouldn’t have allowed Nadia to take him to a doctor.”
Lance frowned, a dangerous anger at Pirhadi taking hold of him. “I’d like to punch him. A lot.”
“Get in line,” she murmured. She pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes. “This could make a bad situation even worse. If I can’t get this medicine in him, we’ll have to get him to a doctor.”
Lance pursed his lips and rubbed a hand over his jaw. “We’ll do whatever we have to do. Let’s get creative.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“I’ve got nieces and nephews. My sister bribes hers sometimes.”
“That won’t work with Sam.”
“But he likes numbers.”
“Yes.”
Lance sighed. “We could turn it into a game, but I’m not sure that would be a wise thing to do. He could get ahold of some medicine in the future and take it, thinking it was part of a fun game.”
Amber gave a slow nod. “I see what you’re saying.” She glanced at Sam. “His fever is at least 102. He has all the symptoms he had before when he had strep. The way he’s clutching his stomach in his sleep and wanting to drink to soothe his throat. If we don’t get some medicine in him soon, we’re going to have to take him to a hospital.”
“There’s a new hospital just outside of Wrangler’s Corner. The growth around here has been crazy.”
She nodded. “Okay, that’s a positive. The hospital is nearby. However, the negative is, so are the bad guys.”
Sam sat up and rubbed his eyes then touched his throat. “Drink, please. Water. Hot.” He whimpered.
Amber shot a desperate look at Lance. “Let’s play the game. I’ll just have to lock up any medicine in the house for a while.” She grabbed the cup of water from the small end table next to the bed and handed it to Sam. He drank it slowly, grimacing with each swallow. Amber snagged the medicine bottle and tossed it to Lance. “Do your thing.”
Lance hefted the small bottle then sat on the bed next to Sam who took another sip of his water. “Sam, how many milligrams are in each pill in this bottle?”
Sam blinked. Lance held the bottle out to him. Sam frowned and took it. He read, “Each pill contains 100mgs.”
Lance opened the bottle and dumped the remaining pills into his left hand. “Count the pills, Sam.”
Sam did. “One, two, three, four...” All the way to sixteen.
“What’re the total milligrams?”
Sam looked away then back. “Sixteen times one hundred is one thousand six hundred milligrams.”
“Eat one pill, Sam.”
Sam did. Lance breathed a sigh of relief. “What’s left?”
“One thousand five hundred.”
“Eat another pill and tell me what’s left.”
Sam ate the second tablet. “One thousand four hundred milligrams.”
Lance capped the bottle. “Sam, only eat two pills every six hours.” Sam held out a hand. “Two every six hours. What time is it?”
Sam looked at his electronic game that also had the time on the front screen. “Four o’clock in the afternoon. Two pills every six hours. Two pills at ten o’clock nighttime. Tired.” He lay down, rolled on his stomach and closed his eyes.
Amber let out a slow breath and Lance caught her eye. She gave him a teary smile and sniffed. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He shrugged. “It worked this time. But if it’s strep—and I suspect you’re right—he’ll probably need an antibiotic. Strep can have serious complications.” He studied the now-sleeping boy. “Not that he’ll develop them, of course, but if we can get him an antibiotic, he’ll be better off.”
“I know.”
“I’ll radio Clay and see if he can get one and bring it up here. Is Sam allergic to anything?”
“No, nothing.” Then she scowled. “And tell Clay not to let the bad guys follow him this time.”
“I’m pretty sure I won’t have to recommend that.”
“How are my parents?” she asked softly.
“They’re fine. There have been no attacks or anything on the ranch or anyone associated with it.”
She pursed her lips and nodded. “It’s because they know we’re not there.”
“Meaning they’re still watching my place.”
She nodded. “I imagine they retreated somewhere in the hills and were watching us walk away from your house. Now they’re just biding their time until they can come this way and look for us. They’ll be well armed and traveling by snowmobiles. In theory. I don’t know that for sure. Except for the well-armed part. That, I’m sure of.”
“I’d say it was a good guess.”
“Kat will be watching,” she murmured. “I imagine Clay will be, too.”
He tilted his head. “Maybe,” he said. “Probably.” He stood. “You hungry?”
“Yes.” She glanced at Sam. “I should try to get him to eat something like some soup, but if his throat hurts as bad as I suspect it does, he’ll not want anything.”
“I’ve got a microwave, but I don’t want to cook anything that will smell and lead someone to us. At least for now, even though they might know we’re up here somewhere, they don’t know exactly where.”
She nodded and sat forward. “Radio Clay and tell him to get a team of officers together and keep an eye on this area.”
“You think they’ll try something.”
“The more I think about it, the more I do, but I also think we’re pretty safe and well protected here.” She looked around. “I mean, there aren’t any windows and there’s only one way in and out. They can’t
burn us out or shoot us—”
“Could gas us.”
She grimaced. “But hopefully they won’t have that kind of equipment, but if they do, we’ll just have to hope Clay and the other deputies can cover us.”
“Where would they get the snowmobiles?” he asked. “They’re not going to want to rent them in town, it would set off too many alarms. Think they’d chance bringing them in by truck with this weather?”
“I don’t know. They could steal them or have them brought in by a chopper.” She bit her lip and looked over at Sam who still slept. “I just wish he was somewhere safe, away from everything that could happen and everything that could go wrong.”
* * *
Keeping Sam safe was her priority. But how could she do that when they were constantly looking over their shoulders? While Lance explained their thoughts and the need for an antibiotic to Clay via the radio, she paced the small confines of the little room, stopping to check on Sam every so often. He didn’t feel near as hot as he had an hour ago and she was relieved, but knew that his fever would spike again in a couple of hours.
They were going to have to leave. She had to get him medical attention. But if they left and the hit men were watching, would they be killed before they could reach the hospital?
She ran a hand through her hair and massaged her scalp as she debated her options. Unfortunately, there weren’t many.
And tomorrow was Christmas Eve. She let her fingers smooth Sam’s silky hair and wondered how much he understood about Christmas. If he knew that he was special and wonderfully made just as he was. On that note, she hoped he never understood that he was considered “different” and just continued to be the great kid that he was. God, I know I haven’t been talking to You as much as I should have these past few years. I’m thinking that was a mistake. I’m sorry. I want to believe that You’re not punishing me by letting Nadia die. I want to believe that what Lance said is true. Show me, please.
She drew in a deep breath as she let the prayer flip through her mind. She meant every word of it. She wanted to believe that God wasn’t sitting up there just waiting for her to mess up, but loved her like her own father did, with patience, kindness—and forgiveness when she needed it.
She left Sam sleeping and walked over to sink onto the sofa next to Lance.
Lance touched her shoulder. “Are you all right?”
She swiped a tear she hadn’t realized that she’d shed. “Yes, just thinking about what you said earlier. About God. About choices and consequences.”
“And?”
She shrugged and shot him a small sideways smile. “I told God I wanted it to be true.”
“It’s true.”
His absolute certainty touched her. “Thanks, Lance.”
“For what?”
Amber let out a little laugh. “For everything. For this. For putting your life on the line and not letting me go through this alone. I’m still determined to leave if we have to, but I’m praying Clay and the rest of us can get Pirhadi without having to do that.” She wrapped her fingers around his. “You were right about that, too.”
“What?”
“The fact that if we run, we’ll be running forever.” She drew in a deep breath. “I think it’s time to stand and fight.”
“I think you’re right.” Lance leaned over and kissed her. Amber froze at the feel of his warm lips on hers. How often had she thought about this moment? Dreamed about it? Begged God for it? At first, she wasn’t sure what to do. She’d kissed and been kissed in the past, but this was...special. This was Lance. She gave a small sigh and let him pull her closer, his warmth covering her, surrounding her, making her feel safe.
But she wasn’t. And she needed to remember that.
She leaned back and looked into his eyes. “Why did you do that?”
A flush covered his cheeks. “I wanted to.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. It was probably not the wisest thing to do.”
“I don’t know about wise, but I enjoyed it.” She heard the wryness in her voice, and he gave a small chuckle. “However, you’re probably right.” His chuckle faded and she sighed. “Getting emotionally involved wouldn’t be smart. Once Pirhadi’s out of the picture, I’ve got a job to get back to.”
She wanted to stuff a sock in her mouth. Getting emotionally involved? Really? That’s the best you can come up with? It was just a kiss, Amber, not a marriage proposal.
Lance blinked and cleared his throat. “Of course.”
Restless, a tad embarrassed, Amber went to check on Sam. And frowned. He was hot again. She looked back over her shoulder. “We need to get him to the doctor. The ibuprofen didn’t last long enough.”
Lance nodded. “I’ll tell Clay the situation’s changed and he needs to bring us transportation.”
“I really think so. Sam’s getting very lethargic.” She pressed an ear against his chest and thought she heard some wheezing. “I’m worried it might be something more than strep.” She hesitated. “They could be watching Clay, waiting for him to make another move so they can follow.”
“I’ll tell him to be prepared for that.” Lance got on the radio and she heard him telling Clay what they needed. He looked up. “He’s already on the way and he’s got a snowmobile in tow.”
“Hopefully that’s the only thing he’s got behind him,” she murmured.
“Yeah.”
She packed what little she’d removed from her backpack in the short time they’d stayed in Lance’s little hideaway. She was loath to leave it and she knew it was because she felt safe here. But it wasn’t long until she heard the hum of a snowmobile. Lance went to the entrance and she stepped up behind him. He rolled the plastic away from the door and the cold air rushed in. She shivered, but ignored the chill. “Can you tell if it’s Clay?”
“It’s him.”
She stepped out of the cave and waited for her brother to pull up. Relief swept over her when she saw what he drove. A snowmobile that would seat three and another in tow. She could sit in the seat and hold Sam while Clay drove and Lance would drive the other one. Perfect. “I’ll get Sam.”
She went back into the warmth of the cave and touched Sam’s shoulder. Heat radiated from his small body. “Hey, buddy, we’re going to ride on a snowmobile and get you to the doctor.”
He moaned, but rolled over to look at her. Her heart cramped. God, please let me do the right thing. Help me help him. She picked him up and he laid his head on her shoulder. She grabbed the heavy coat he’d worn from Lance’s house and threw it over him. It was big enough that it covered him from head to toe. She’d use it to keep him sheltered from the wind.
“You got him?” Lance asked.
“Yes. Let’s go.”
They walked out to Clay who waited with the snowmobiles running. He wore a ski hat and goggles. Sam lifted his head as she climbed into the backseat of the machine. The coat fell from his head and he ducked back under. She strapped them both in and nodded to Lance who’d climbed on the other snowmobile. “Let’s go.”
A shot rang out and pinged off the roll bar of the snowmobile. Amber’s adrenaline shot up as she hunched over Sam and made them as small as possible in the metal seat. “Clay!” If a bullet hit the back, they would be protected. If it came from the side...
“Hang on!” Clay called. He gunned the motor and slid the snowmobile into the copse of trees just around the side of the cave that had sheltered them. The cave wasn’t formed right inside the mountain, but rather jutted out with the opening at the side. It made the mountain look like it had a swollen area jutting from it. However, the shape of it made for a flat area beside it before sloping upward. Clay pulled into that flat area, utilizing the cave for protection on one side, the slope provided some cover on another side. However, the top of the cave could be an issue should someone manage to climb up th
ere. Lance pulled in behind them. Clay jumped off the snowmobile, his weapon in his hand. Lance did the same.
He looked at her. “Stay put.”
And really, there was nothing else she could do. She would stay hunched over Sam until someone shot her or they were able to get away.
She raised her head slightly and saw Clay hovering at the front of the snowmobile. Lance covered the back, his weapon swinging from the upward slope to the top of the snow-covered cave. “They’ve cut their engines,” he said.
“They’re going to walk in,” she said then looked up. “Or come at us from above. Be ready.”
She heard Clay on the radio asking locations of the other deputies, and she hoped they would arrive in time to help fight off the attackers, but she wasn’t going to count on it. She slid Sam onto the seat and he lay across the two like a bed, his eyes closed. Good, his back was protected, but she felt him shivering even under the heavy coat she’d wrapped him in. Chills from the fever. She pulled the hat off her head and pulled it over his. The temperature hovered just above freezing, but as the sun fell, it would get colder.
Amber pulled her weapon and held it steady, her eyes dancing between the areas beyond Clay and Lance. Movement behind the tree nearest Lance captured her attention. Did he see it?
He raised his weapon. She did the same. The figure rounded the edge of the tree pulling the trigger. A hail of bullets peppered the back of the snowmobile and she ducked even while she fired back.
Another round of bullets came from the other side of the cave. She looked at Clay and he caught her gaze. “Backup.”
“They got here fast.”
“I had them follow me and come in from different directions. We should have them surrounded.”
“Smart.”
Another bullet came from the hill above her and puffed up the snow behind the snowmobile. She spun and aimed in the direction the bullet had come from but held her fire. She wouldn’t shoot blind. She heard the snowmobile behind her roar to life and Lance pulled it up next to the one where she and Sam were. From her position on the floor, her views of the hill area above were completely blocked.
And so was the shooter’s.
Classified Christmas Mission Page 12
