by Rachel Lee
It had amused her to see how scattered those establishments were. They dotted the state highway here and there, and probably showed up on some county roads. They brought the alcohol to the ranchers and their help, not the other way around. Maybe it even reduced police involvement if there was a brawl.
Even as she had the thought, a sheriff’s SUV came toward her. She wasn’t sure she recognized the deputy at the wheel, but she caught the friendly wave and returned it. Another nice thing about this place. When was the last time a cop had given her a friendly wave back East?
Never. Another laugh escaped her as the tan vehicle disappeared over a rise in the road. The prairie was rolling now, getting ready to meet the mountains still far in the distance.
Then she heard an engine roar and it pulled her out of her wandering daydreams. The speed limit wasn’t enough for the guy who’d been following her. Too bad, she refused to exceed the speed limit. She allowed her own speed to drop a little as he began to pass her.
But he didn’t pass her.
She kept her hands steady on the wheel and glanced over. She couldn’t see the other driver’s face. It was shadowed beneath the brim of a cowboy hat.
Maybe he didn’t have the acceleration to get past her. Fearful they’d meet an oncoming truck, she let up a little more, hoping the big Suburban would ease past.
But it slowed, too, pacing her.
Fear began to crawl into her throat, turning her mouth as dry as sand. What was going on? Maybe she should jam on the brakes to make sure he passed.
Just as she had the thought, she felt the impact as the Suburban slammed into her side. Immediately she had to grip the steering wheel hard to keep from driving off the road.
Her mind, still trying to grasp whether that had been an accident, had a few moments to feel a wave of relief as he dropped back a little. An accident.
But before she could decide how to respond, the Suburban swung over and hit her rear quarter panel hard. She could feel her tires skid sideways on the pavement.
Fighting with all her might, she tried to accelerate to get away.
Too late. One more slam and she was rolling, the world turning topsy-turvy.
The last thing she remembered was a sharp blow in the side of her head as it hit something and the airbag exploding in her face.
Then the world turned mercifully black.
* * *
Mission accomplished. Satisfied that, dead or alive, Haley would want no further part of living out here, Edgar drove a few more miles down the road, turned onto a gravel county road that had little traffic except a couple of local ranchers, then parked nose-down in a ditch not a half mile from where he’d left his truck.
The sun felt hot on his back as he walked, but that was okay. He was used to it. When he got to his truck, he climbed in, started slowly so as not to leave tracks, and drove back to the state road. Instead of heading into town, he continued toward Casper. Going back to the scene could be incredibly stupid. He’d just have to rely on gossip to tell him how successful he’d been.
* * *
Roger started worrying as the afternoon waned. He told himself not to be ridiculous, that Haley would call when she got to Denver, but his fascination with the clock steadily grew until work became hopeless.
He performed mental calculations, estimating the drive time conservatively. Haley struck him as the kind of person who’d pretty much stick to the speed limit. It was Saturday. She might run into a ton of traffic, or very little.
He decided very little. Most folks who wanted to travel to Casper or some other large town today would have left last night or early in the morning to give them time to do their errands or enjoy themselves. But then there was that turn onto the interstate heading south. That would be full of trucks and traffic. She might have whizzed along or she might have been forced to slow down.
He told himself to cut it out. In the absence of news, there was no reason to think she had run into trouble. And if she did, if her little rental broke down, she’d probably have called him to tell him not to worry, she’d be late getting to Denver.
She didn’t at all strike him as thoughtless and she’d promised to let him know when she arrived.
But time was passing. Surely, she should have reached the city by now. Or at least the outskirts of Denver, where she might have picked up something to eat. Yeah, that was a possibility. And with her planning to call from the motel tonight, why would she think to do it while having dinner?
He couldn’t shake an uneasy feeling about it. Damn, he should have ignored her and driven her himself. At least then he wouldn’t be wondering if she’d had a breakdown or something.
But she’d needed, wanted, the independence of driving herself and, after the last couple of weeks, he understood. She’d be proving herself to herself.
He hated that she seemed to be growing so impatient with herself because of the scars that creep had opened when he’d peered through her window, but he got it. Hate it or not, he got it. Haley’s world had been closing in on her because of her past and the recent event. She needed to take it back.
Driving herself to Denver had probably been like shucking a load of crap from her back. A sense of returning freedom. Good for her.
Not so good for him because he seemed to have developed a very strong inclination to protect her and worry about her. Not his right, but whenever had his rights been determined by whether someone granted them? He couldn’t just order himself to stop caring.
Nor had the last couple of nights exactly freed him of his urges. Sex with her had been a splendid experience. Each and every time they had come together, he’d felt his universe tremble at its very foundations. He wanted her back. He wanted to take the chance that this time there could be a future.
Until Haley, he’d never even thought of picket fences and a crew cab on his truck to carry youngsters. Now those errant thoughts danced through his mind every so often, even though this wasn’t a picket fence kind of town.
Man, he had it bad. He hammered the last tack into the saddle he’d been finishing, aware that his deadline was creeping ever closer. He’d been taking too much time off, but Haley was worth it. Anyway, being only human, he needed the time off occasionally.
His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since his breakfast with Haley. He could have cooked something for himself, but cooking for one held even less interest for him after the meals he had shared with Haley.
Well, he might have to eat alone, but at least he could do it at Maude’s diner, where he’d fill his arteries with bad stuff and maybe run into an acquaintance to spend an hour with. Friday-night darts had been called off until school reopened because most of his friends had families and kids now.
He was far behind them and had never been in a rush to change that. Until, possibly, now.
Damn, he hoped Haley returned, that she didn’t discover she’d missed her friends too much, or that she didn’t want to return to the nightmare this place had become to her.
He locked up his shop, making sure everything was safely shut down, then walked around his house to his truck parked out front. He probably smelled like the glues and solutions he used, not to mention the leather, but so far not a soul had complained. Of course, he didn’t complain when a bunch of ranchers showed up and smelled as if they had a bit of cow dung on their boots.
The city had changed over the course of his life, but it was still a town that existed largely for working folks who didn’t smell like aftershave but more like livestock.
He liked it.
Just as he opened the door to his truck, a police car pulled up. It felt as if everything inside him froze. Either they were here to tell him they’d caught the Peeping Tom or...
He didn’t want to think it.
Gage Dalton climbed out and limped his way closer. “Rog? There’s no good way to say this. H
aley had an accident about thirty miles out of town. She’s in the emergency room right now.”
“How...how bad?”
Gage shook his head. “I don’t know. A trucker saw her vehicle rolled in a ditch. The fire department got her out of the wreckage. All I know is that she was unconscious and went to the hospital on a backboard.”
“I’m going.”
Gage nodded. “I thought you would. Want an escort?”
* * *
Haley was in a hinterland. Flashes came to her then succumbed to a peaceful darkness. The guy who’d run her off the road...she could see the side of his head... Searing pain, shoulder, head...and more darkness.
A vague memory of voices, the sound of screaming as she was tugged and pulled. One clear image of a concerned female face above her. Feeling something holding her head...
Weird feeling of being wheeled as if on ice beneath bright lights. Familiar sounds of voices and beeping equipment. A clear thought: emergency room.
Everything punctuated by darkness. She couldn’t let the darkness win. She had to fight it. That determination pierced every slightly conscious moment she had.
Don’t let go.
Someone calling her name loudly. “Haley! Stay with me!”
Oh, that was a bad sign, but the dark was so soft and inviting.
“Haley! Hang on. Stay with me!”
Why? Why bother? Sinking away felt so easy.
“Haley!” A different voice. A man. Roger?
“Haley, don’t let go. Please. Stay.”
“Unfair,” she thought she mumbled, but couldn’t be sure. Unfair to bring Roger into this. But the dark still reached for her and she didn’t think she could fight it.
So easy...
* * *
Roger watched them wheel her from the bay to the MRI. He’d felt bad before in his life, like when his dad died, but this was far worse. Internally he felt like ice, except for his heart, which ached as if a big fist had squeezed it.
They still weren’t sure how bad Haley was. Suspicions had been mentioned by medical personnel as he hovered outside the bay, listening, worrying, wanting desperately to reach Haley.
Finally, Mary let him in, a nurse he’d known almost his entire life, one of the previous sheriff’s daughters. She’d encouraged him, hoping Haley would respond to his voice.
She’d responded, but only to mumble something he couldn’t understand.
Now he stood there alone, staring at the detritus on the floor around where her gurney had been. She’d bled so much! It didn’t help that Mary assured him that even superficial head wounds bled a whole lot. How was that to reassure him? Haley still hadn’t opened her eyes.
Possibly broken ribs. Shoulder bruising, maybe broken collarbone from the seat belt. Legs bruised, possibly broken.
It was mostly her head. They were worried about brain damage.
God, he hated to even imagine it. What if she couldn’t be a nurse again? That might gut her. What if she didn’t remember him? That would gut him.
He finally accepted the urging to go to the waiting room, and found he wasn’t alone. Edith was there, without Bailey, and a couple of deputies he knew. Jake Madison, the chief of police, and a few of the church crowd that Roger didn’t believe Haley had yet met.
But he hadn’t been in that room for long when he realized they were there for him. To support him whether they knew Haley or not. And they’d all certainly known Flora.
He rubbed a hand over his face, loving this town and its people, then looked toward the deputies, Connie and Beau. He played darts with Beau. “What happened?”
Neither answered.
“We can’t be certain,” Connie eventually said. Careful cop.
But Roger only had to close his eyes to see the road. A sunny day, dry pavement, and a shoulder wide enough to keep anyone from straying into the drainage ditches to either side. It was the kind of road where a driver had to fall asleep at the wheel or be drunk in broad daylight to get into trouble, unless the pavement was slick.
“Something happened,” he said finally.
Connie and Beau exchanged glances. “We have to check the car out before we can say anything,” Beau answered. “She might have had a mechanical problem.”
That was a possibility. Roger clung to it, fighting back guilt. He’d had no authority to tell her not to make the trip alone.
But what began to plague him more was remembering how he’d tried to dismiss the creep who’d looked into her window, tried to minimize it as a toothless threat. How he’d simply refused to let her make the connection she’d been trying to make at some level.
What was the likelihood that her kidnapper would turn up in this little town after all these years? Slim. So slim, the odds were incalculably small. He’d told her that.
What if he’d been wrong? What if the guy was here and feared she could identify him? What about the guy she’d stared at so hard the day they’d been out for a walk and had met Jake Madison? Even Jake had noticed the way she had stared.
Damn, what if her suspicion had been right and he’d helped her dismiss it?
He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself.
* * *
Edgar took a roundabout way home, feeling quite proud of himself. Puddles jumped up and down as if on springs when he walked through the door, and he snapped on her leash and took her into the backyard.
An untraceable vehicle, and he’d managed to drive the woman right off the road. In his rearview mirror, as if in slow motion, he’d watched her car flip and nearly disappear into the drainage ditch. With any luck, if she was still alive, it would be hours before they found her. Painful hours. Hours that should persuade her to go back to her former life for good.
He doubted the saddler would be enough to make her stay after that. She’d feel attacked. Much more so than when he’d peered in her window. He spared a moment to remember how she’d kept the curtains closed and the windows closed since the night he’d looked in on her. He’d scared her then. And now, today...
Yeah, he’d done a good job, and there was nothing to trace any of this back to him. Most likely it would be dismissed as an accident. But if they found the Suburban, all they’d be able to discover was that it had belonged to the school auto shop.
They’d blame some joyriding kid.
Once Puddles was done, he brought her back inside and gave her a few treats. Her tail wagged happily until she jumped into his lap while he drank a beer.
All was good. His own fears had already begun to recede. When the fall semester started, he’d be able to return to work without having to dread showing his face around town.
If she lived, maybe her brain had been addled, too. Concussions could do that.
Smiling, he reached for the remote and flipped on a baseball game.
He’d been smarter this time. Much smarter.
* * *
Roger thought he was going to wear a hole in the linoleum of the waiting room floor as he paced a tight circle. When they’d let him come into the ER bay to speak with her, she’d looked awful. Blackened eyes, swollen cheek, minor abrasions, and that was only the parts he could see.
He wasn’t a relative. What if they wouldn’t tell him anything at all? They might leave him here wondering forever about her condition. He didn’t think he could stand it.
And, hell, he didn’t even know who to call. Della? But who was Della and how could he get her phone number?
It may have been several hours, or maybe less, before Gage Dalton joined him. His sense of timing was shot now as he worried about Haley. Everything seemed to be taking forever, time was dragging its feet as if someone had put on the brakes.
And apparently time was taking long enough that all the people who had come to comfort him had taken their leave with gentle excuses, promising to return after dinner.
“Roger,” Gage said with a nod. As always, he limped, and Roger suspected he hadn’t spent a single day without pain in all the years since the car bomb. God, he hoped that didn’t happen to Haley. That she’d come through this well, with no lasting deficits. No pain.
“Any word?” Roger asked without preamble.
Gage nodded. “Her MRI was pretty good. Some bleeding from a concussion, but not enough to worry about. They’re a little concerned because she hasn’t roused yet, but they expect that shortly.”
Roger blew a long sigh of relief. “Thank God,” he whispered. “What’s the rest?”
“A broken rib, which is going to make her miserable for a while. A broken leg, which may make her just as miserable. They’ll have to do surgery to put in a pin or something. No internal damage, thanks to the airbag, but...” Gage shrugged. “She may have a shoulder problem from the seat belt. They see some bruising. In short, she’ll live, but she’s going to need some help for a while.”
Roger sank into a chair. His legs felt suddenly unsteady. “She’ll get help. How much on the outside am I, not being family?”
Gage patted his shoulder. “I told them you were the closest thing she has to family, so it’s a wink-wink situation. You’ll be able to see her soon.”
Roger nodded and looked at the floor beneath his feet. His hands, he noted, had bunched into tight fists. “What happened?” he asked again.
“We’re towing her car in for an examination but...”
“But?” Roger’s head snapped up.
“The scene investigator thinks someone may have sideswiped her. Accident, probably, but it could have been enough. Anyway, we can’t know anything for sure until we go over the car.”
