Evernight Publishing
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2014 Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy
ISBN: 978-1-77130-858-8
Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs
Editor: Lisa Petrocelli
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
This one’s for my Cherokee ancestors and relatives and for all the law enforcement officers who risk their lives daily to keep us all safe.
QUITE THE CATCH
Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy
Copyright © 2014
First things first…
He ran so hard that his ragged breath caught in his chest and his lungs burned, but he didn’t dare stop. Joshua figured if he tripped or lost his balance, he’d be dead within minutes. The braying and barking of the hounds sounded closer so he pushed harder, his calf muscles protesting as he increased speed. He failed to realize he had reached the railroad bridge until it was too late to turn around so he slowed as much as possible. If they caught up now, there would be no mercy.
A hoarse shout behind him rang out and muffled the sound as a bullet whizzed past, inches from his cheek. If he hadn’t known better, Joshua might have taken it to be an insect. The second shot echoed out across the valley and another bullet passed by. A burst of fire from multiple guns roared and his options narrowed to two choices. He could keep running and be shot. Even if the men in pursuit lacked shooting skills, the odds were he’d be hit and probably killed, so Joshua took the other option.
Without pausing, he changed course and ran straight over the open side of the trestle. His feet encountered air and danced on nothing, hovering in space for a long moment until his brain realized what happened. In those odd moments, one of the bee-like bullets stung, burning his left side with instant fiery pain. Joshua gasped, then plummeted fast, hard as a stone into the river far below. If he missed the water and hit rocks instead, his bones would break and he would die.
Death’s after my ass but he’s not getting me. Not today. Joshua shifted his body during the descent and landed in the river, swollen and full from the spring rains. The impact hurt as much as if he’d hit a brick wall and he plunged deep below the surface. Cold water, brackish and murky, filled his mouth and robbed him of air. His body ached and it would be so easy to yield to the water, to let it suck him to the bottom. The wound in his side sent pain spiraling out and sapped his strength. He could taste the copper tang of blood in the water now. If he lost enough blood, he could die, but there wasn’t a lot he could do to stop it. If he never resurfaced, at least they wouldn’t be victorious. He let the current carry him along, and struggled to hold his breath. At the same time, Joshua pushed upward in a valiant effort and managed to lift his head above the river.
He choked, gasped, and tried to figure out his location. Caught by the current, he was drifting south and he’d already passed beyond the rail bridge. When he twisted his head around to look, the party chasing him stood on the trestle. Some pointed and shouted but he couldn’t make out their words. Water sloshed in his ears and the flooded river roared with noise.
If he could swim to shore, he might make it but when he tried, he flailed around worse than a child at a first swimming lesson. His weary legs refused to kick and his arms ached. Joshua couldn’t get into position so he let the water carry him. Sooner or later, some of Pete’s bunch would realize that all they had to do would be to jump in the trucks and drive to one of the downriver access points. Then they could pick him off, easy as shooting fish in a barrel.
I’ll die cold and wet but hell, at least I tried.
It might have been his final thought if Joshua hadn’t smacked into something hard. The impact jarred him but he grasped on instinct and held on. It’s a boat. A goddamn boat. His fingers clutched tight and he struggled to find his voice as the fisherman, clad in knee-high rubber boots and an ancient hooded jacket, reached toward him.
Fatigue and whatever injuries he might have suffered along the way caught up and Joshua’s head spun. I’m about to pass out. He struggled to hold onto consciousness, but a blinding white brilliance consumed his vision and he slipped into darkness as the fisherman hauled him into the boat.
“Hang on and I’ll help you.”
It’s a woman. Fuck me running. It’s a woman.
The last thing he remembered were her eyes, as blue as sapphires, and huge, rounded with surprise. Then he gave up and fainted for the first time in his life.
Chapter One
With the river high, she shouldn’t have taken the boat out but Tina seldom let anything as small as a flood stop her. She did what she wanted, always had, and had no plans to change. Besides, she had to keep her promise to Gramps. He’d wanted his ashes scattered over the river where he had once fished and she swore she would do as he asked. Tina didn’t care much for fishing but she had always loved being out on the water, under the sky with Gramps, when he wet a line. So, once the torrential rains stopped, she decided this had to be the day. Spring had been wetter than usual and today was the first day the sun shone.
Her cousin Charley loaded up his boat and trailer, then helped to launch the small craft onto the river. Tina, dressed in Gramps’ old boots and worn coat, had waved as she set off. Charley offered to come along but she refused. Instead he would meet her downriver at one of the public access spots. The old truck would be waiting there once Charley’s kid brother, Chase, delivered it and she’d go home. Or at least back to Gramps’ place where she’d been staying since the old man took ill last fall. After her grandfather’s death three weeks earlier, Tina remained. At first, there had been the funeral and a few legal details to handle. The task of sorting Gramps’ clothes and possessions fell to her because he’d left the house and property to Tina. She hadn’t done it yet, not quite up to the intrusion of emptying dresser drawers and clothes. At least her grandfather had given away some things before he passed away, including the boat and trailer to Charley.
Over the long months of Gramps’ illness, Tina had dreamed of the day she could return to her life in Dallas and her nursing career. She had continued to pay the rent on the duplex she shared with two other nurses but now, without any reason to stay, she didn’t want to go back to the city. Living near the Poteau River, in the woods of eastern Oklahoma, pleased her more than daily traffic snarls and urban sprawl. She’d used the weather as an excuse to stay, too, unable or unwilling to scatter Gramps’ ashes in the rain.
But today had dawned clear and bright with temperatures in the lower fifties, so she decided it was time. Sunshine danced on the surface of the water and sparkled as she’d let the wind scoop Gramps’ remains out of the urn. She managed to scatter whatever the wind didn’t pick up. None of them came back to land on her, and a rush of exhilaration filled her as they flew in all directions. Tina liked to think it might be Gramps but she didn’t know.
After taking care of business, she floated the johnboat downriver and didn’t hurry, savoring the outdoors. Although she’d grown up in the area, Tina’s real life had shifted to the city when she went off to college. Since she came back, her world had been limited to Gramps’ old A-frame cabin, his trips to the doctor in town, the supermarket, pharmacy, and at the end, the medical center where he lost his battle with cancer. Being alone on the water, with
a fresh spring breeze in her face and the warmth of the sun beating down on her shoulders, equaled heaven on earth.
She nibbled a peanut butter sandwich and drank a tepid bottle of iced tea en route. The forest and fields on the riverbanks offered pleasant background noise. Bird songs wafted from the tall trees, cattle mooed as they grazed, and the river sang its song. It wasn’t until after she passed beneath the old railroad trestle bridge that she heard anything human.
From her vantage point, the men had appeared at first to be a hunting party, their shouts rough and harsh carried on the winds. Tina had watched them, both amused and intrigued by their antics until she realized they followed a lone figure running ahead. When the unmistakable sound of shots fired echoed over the wide valley, she sobered and waited to see what might happen. When the man came over the trestle, she gasped. He had to be a dead man, if not from a gunshot wound, from the fall, and when he plunged deep into the water, she stifled a scream.
Tina attempted to row the boat upriver to see if the man had surfaced, but fighting the current proved difficult. She had almost given up on him and was about to head downstream when she spotted his head above the water. He’s in trouble, she thought, he’s struggling.
Moments later the current slammed him against the boat with such force she thought it might knock him unconscious. Instead, he managed to grasp the edge of the craft and hang on to it. Tina moved to help with such speed that the boat rocked and for a moment, she thought it would pitch over. It didn’t and she grasped his shoulders to pull him aboard. She managed to haul him into the bottom but within moments his eyes rolled backward as he passed out. Tina stared at him, horrified as he shook with chills. As he shivered, she noted blood seeping from beneath his sodden clothing. He’s cold but he’s hurt too.
“Whoever you are, you’ll die from hypothermia if I don’t hurry,” she said aloud. Tina fired up the Evinrude motor and propelled the boat forward with speed. Until now, she hadn’t used the engine, savoring the quiet, but time mattered.
He roused within minutes, wild-eyed and skittish. When he tried to sit up, he couldn’t quite mange so Tina slid an arm around him. “Here,” she said. “Let me help.”
“Th-th-thanks.” His teeth chattered as he spoke and she wished she had a blanket or something.
“No problem. Are you in trouble?”
In spite of his shivering and obvious injuries, he managed to shake his head ‘no’.
She considered the situation. She knew little about him but her instinct wanted to trust him. “Sure you’re not a fugitive?”
With effort, he managed to answer. “I – don’t – think – so.”
Something about him made her believe he wasn’t. He wore his hair short, cop style, and even propped up in the boat, he carried himself with an aura of danger. His straight black hair, dark eyes, and bronze skin spoke of a Native American heritage. She suspected he might be a law enforcement officer or a military man. “What’s your name?”
Tina strained to catch his whisper. “Joshua.”
“Hang on, Joshua,” she told him. “We’re almost back to land and then home.”
At the landing, Charley stood up at her approach. By the time she arrived, he had the trailer backed up to the ramp and walked out in waders to help secure the boat. He glanced down and frowned. “Who’s this?” he asked. “Catch of the day?”
“Joshua,” she said, as if she had known him all her life. “He’s a friend.”
Charley’s eyes narrowed. He could always spot her lies but he nodded. “All right, if you say so. How’d you reel him in?”
“Would you believe he jumped into the boat?”
“Probably not.”
“Then don’t ask any questions. Just help me get him to Gramps’ truck, would you? He’s well on his way to hypothermia if he doesn’t have it now.”
Her cousin reached in and pulled Joshua to his feet. Joshua’s head rolled backward so Tina stepped forward to support it. “Is that blood?” Charley asked.
“Yes.” Charley parted his lips and she shook her head to keep him quiet. “I’m a nurse, remember? I can handle it. Just put him in the truck and don’t ask questions. Please.”
With a muffled curse, Charley slung Joshua over one shoulder in a modified fireman’s cay and hauled him to the vehicle. After he’d loaded him into the passenger side, he glared at Tina. “Honey, you used to bring stray dogs and cats home to nurse back to health but this one, he’s trouble.”
Head held high, she replied, “I don’t think so.”
He used his thumb to rap beneath her chin. “I hope you’re right, cuz. Take care and if you need anything, holler.”
“Give me a hug.” Charley enveloped her in his broad arms and she leaned against him for a long moment. “Thanks.”
“Yeah, don’t mention it.”
Tina hauled out a musty blanket from behind the seat, then she climbed behind the wheel of the 1968 Chevy truck. When she cranked the ignition, she turned the heater on full blast. When Joshua roused a little, she patted his damp knee. “Don’t worry. Home’s not too far.”
Tina gunned the truck down the two-lane highway, and then bumped down the back road leading to her grandfather’s old cabin. By the time she cut the headlights and climbed out, Joshua had his eyes open. He acted a little dazed and weak.
“Can you walk?”
“Don’t know,” he said. “I’ll…try.”
His body trembled with cold and he became less responsive by the moment. Tina put an arm around his waist and supported most of his weight. Together, they managed to climb the few steps to the A-frame cabin and make it through the door. Once inside, she deposited him into a rump sprung recliner, then shed Gramps’ old coat and boots.
In a series of deft, swift motions, Tina lit the fire already laid in the hearth and coaxed it into flame. She grabbed her medical basket of supplies and used the shears to cut off Joshua’s wet clothing. There wasn’t time to remove them intact. Beneath her fingers, his body remained cold, and Tina had no doubt that his temperature had dropped dangerously low. She towel-dried his hair, then inspected the source of the blood.
After a quick examination, Tina decided a bullet had grazed his left side but hadn’t entered. She smeared some antibiotic cream over the wound, the best she could do for the moment. Hypothermia presented a more serious and immediate risk. When she poked him, he didn’t respond. His breathing had become shallow so she pulled a throw from the couch and tossed it over him.
“Joshua,” she said, then sharpened her tone. “Joshua, wake up. You need to listen to me.”
After she’d called his name several more times, his eyes opened, mere slits. “What?”
“I need to get you to bed so you can warm up,” she told him. “Come on, try to walk with me.”
His movements were lethargic but with her help, he managed to lean his dead weight against her. Tina dragged him into the downstairs bedroom, maneuvered him into bed, and piled on blankets. She pulled up a chair so she could monitor his breathing and waited.
After twenty minutes, most of his shivering eased. In an hour’s time, he breathed deep and even. Tina tucked the covers tight around him and relaxed, a little. Once she was certain he slept, she picked up his ruined clothing and tossed it in the trash. Then she got the digital thermometer and checked his temperature, which remained below normal.
He needed more heat and fast. The fire spread warmth but it would take time to reach the bedroom. As a nurse, she knew better than to use an electric blanket so there was just one way. Tina removed everything but her bra and panties, then she crawled beneath the covers. Joshua lay on his back so she cuddled close to his right side, her arm spread out over him. His naked skin remained cold to the touch but after a long time, she began to feel the heat spread to him, from her body to his. Cautious, she remained beside him until evening shadows gathered in the corner of the room. Tina extricated herself and when she did, he stirred enough to moan.
Tina adjusted the bla
nkets. She pulled on her jeans and blouse, unwilling to make him aware they’d lain skin to skin. Then she tucked the blankets around him tighter and sat down to wait.
Chapter Two
Awareness crept back in slow stages. He basked with warmth, so comfortable he didn’t want to move or open his eyes. As he roused, pain struck. His lower left side burned with sharp discomfort and his body ached. So did his head—he owned the mother of all headaches and he struggled to recall why. He didn’t think he’d been drinking but something had happened to land him in bed. Maybe he’d fallen sick or been injured but he couldn’t remember.
He opened his eyes and frowned. The strange room offered coziness in a rustic fashion. The pine-knotted paneled walls, the plain white muslin curtains at the window, and the colorful patchwork quilt over him lacked any familiarity. Where am I?
Before he could collect his thoughts, someone spoke, a woman from beside the bed.
“Hi, how do you feel?”
“I hurt like hell,” he told her. He didn’t think he knew her until he caught sight of her wide, beautiful blue eyes. Somewhere, sometime he’d seen those before.
“I’m sure you do, Joshua.”
Joshua? The name failed to ring any bells. “Who?”
She frowned. “Isn’t that your name?”
His lips parted to tell her it wasn’t but he paused, uncertain. Nothing came when he tried to summon his name from his brain. “I don’t know.”
“You told me it was when I fished you out of the river.”
“What river?” Shit. He didn’t know the answers to anything. The woman offered him a smile.
“Poteau River. Apparently you don’t remember. Don’t worry about it. You hit your head on the boat pretty hard so temporary amnesia isn’t uncommon But you’re north of Poteau and south of Spiro at the moment.”
Quite the Catch Page 1
