Rancher's Perfect Baby Rescue

by Linda Conrad

  Out of the corner of his eye, Nathan saw the older man fingering the .45 stuck in his waistband. Damn. Why hadn’t he thought about his father being hurt before he’d started out?

  It was too late now for regrets and recriminations. He would just have to be smarter and quicker than any of Samuel Grayson’s Devotees and henchmen.

  No one could get hurt today. He refused to allow it—not his father and certainly not Susannah.

  He loved her. Now that he’d finally admitted it to himself, he had to make sure she lived long enough to admit it to her, too.

  The minutes were ticking by for Susannah as she kept inching around, staying in the shade of the store’s awning and out of the direct sunlight. After Jonathan had made his phone call, he’d disappeared back inside the community center.

  Everything was peaceful as the sun began to rise in the sky. In another twenty minutes, the streets would be full of people—Devotees and locals alike all going to work or to shop.

  She’d been racking her brain for some kind of answers. But she still hadn’t come up with a decent reason for what she’d seen Jonathan doing.

  Was he a mechanic in his spare time? She’d thought long and hard and had finally remembered that the car he’d been under belonged to the mayor. Had he agreed to fix the mayor’s car?

  Hadn’t he said he was currently the vice-mayor? Perhaps he’d agreed to fix his boss’s car during the meeting.

  That didn’t sound like Jonathan. For a Devotee, he seemed much too self-absorbed to be doing favors for anyone.

  What else had he said while he was bragging about himself last night?

  It was something about moving up. But the only place up from vice-mayor was the mayor’s job.

  Suddenly something she’d remembered from an old TV show came to mind. She hadn’t watched TV since she’d come to Cold Plains. But before, when she’d been stuck in crummy motel rooms waiting for Melody’s father to finish his dirty “businesses,” she’d had nothing to do but watch old reruns and movies on TV.

  On several of the old cop shows, the bad guys would blow up a car in order to get rid of their enemies or rivals. Was that what Jonathan had in mind?

  Her nerves started jumping. Oh, my goodness. As crazy as it might be, it almost sounded like a reasonable explanation for what she’d seen.

  Darn. What should she do? If she went to the police chief and told him this story and it turned out not to be true, she could be in even bigger trouble with the Devotees. Then they would know she didn’t believe and wasn’t a good little Devotee anymore.

  They might kill her right away.

  But she couldn’t let a nice man like the mayor be killed, could she? And she sure as heck didn’t know the first thing about car mechanics. She would only end up either discovered and outed as an imposter and liar—or blown up with the mayor.

  Neither one of those options sounded good to her.

  How about Ford McCall? Yes, she could probably go there for help. Nathan had been positive the lawman was not a Devotee. And she trusted Nathan’s opinion above all others.

  Oh, Nathan, what should I do?

  She would give anything to be able to ask for his advice. But Nathan wasn’t here.

  Thank heaven. He was safe at home with Melody and his family.

  This was all up to her.

  She had to find Ford. But where should she look? At the police office? His home? It was early yet.

  Darn. Darn. Darn. She couldn’t think fast enough.

  Just then, the community center’s side door opened once again, and Mayor Kittridge strolled out. He stopped, gazing around in every direction. He looked like a man who had done something wrong and didn’t want to be caught. Then he tried staying in the shadows of the building as though he didn’t want anyone to see him while he went to his car.

  Susannah’s feet started moving before her mind caught up. He didn’t know. She was sure of it.

  Pretty soon she was running full out, hoping against hope to head him off.

  “No! The car! Stay away from the car!”

  Chapter 13

  Running and screaming at the top of her lungs, Susannah prayed she’d make it there in time. Devotee or not, the mayor was a kind human being and didn’t deserve to die like this.

  “Stop!” she screamed. “Mayor Kittridge, turn around!”

  Sprinting faster than she figured was humanly possible, she kept going and passed the car, holding her breath. “Go back. The car…the car…”

  It took another minute or two to catch up to the mayor.

  “What’s the matter with you?” He gazed at her through narrowed, disbelieving eyes. “Do I know you? Stop that screaming.”

  Out of breath, she gasped for air and tried to explain. “Something is wrong with your car. Some…someone did something to it.”

  She grabbed him by the shirtsleeve. “Please, come away. Don’t go near it.”

  “Are you having a breakdown? You’re a Devotee, aren’t you? We mustn’t let ourselves become so out of control, dear. Remember…”

  “Now!” She began dragging him in the other direction.

  “Please,” he said as he jerked back on his arm and tried to stand his ground. “I have to leave. Someone is waiting for me. Don’t make me call the chief of police.”

  Using all her strength, she dragged him a few more feet. “No time to explain. Go ahead and call the police. From inside the center! Please just come with me.”

  “What on earth is wrong with you, young lady? I…”

  She dashed around behind him and gave him a big shove. The confused man was off balance and went to his knees.

  “That does it,” he yelled. “Stay away from…”

  The entire world suddenly crashed in around them, and Susannah got lost in the chaos—dark and black.

  The explosion rocked Nathan’s pickup and shocked him enough to make him slow down. As soon as his ears stopped ringing, he looked over at his father.

  “You okay, Dad?”

  “I guess so. What the hell…?”

  Throwing the truck in Park, Nathan opened the door. “Can you handle driving? I’ll do better on foot. I’ve got to find Susannah.”

  “I can drive. You think she’ll be somewhere close to whatever that explosion was?” He nodded toward the column of thick black smoke rising to the sky about three blocks away.

  “Hope not. Only one way to find out.”

  “Good luck, son. I’ll drive the truck as close in to the trouble as possible and wait to hear from you.”

  Nathan took off, running flat out toward the smoke. Please don’t let that involve Susannah. Things in Cold Plains didn’t just blow up. Something bad had happened.

  The farther into the center of town he ran, the more he realized the smoke originated from somewhere near the community center. He couldn’t imagine any reason why Susannah would be anywhere close to the center. At least he prayed she wouldn’t.

  The Devotees hadn’t forced her to undergo some ritual, had they? If she was hurt, they would regret it.

  His heart pounded. His lungs screamed for air. His brain burned with horrible images.

  If Susannah died, he would see to it Samuel Grayson paid with his life. Nathan’s own life wouldn’t matter.

  As his feet beat against the sidewalk pavement, he found himself surrounded by more and more people. Everyone wanted to see what was going on.

  Darting out into the street, he figured dodging one or two cars would be a whole lot easier than the hordes of onlookers. But then a car honked behind him.

  “Hey! Watch out! Out of the way.” The voice came from the car.

  He turned and saw Ford McCall in his police cruiser, trying to drive toward the scene. Spinning, he grabbed hold of Ford’s passenger door handle and jumped into the front seat.

  “What the hell are you doing here, Nathan?”

  “Susannah—” That was the only word he could manage.

  Ford turned on his siren and concentrated on driving
as fast as possible through the throngs of people. “You have any idea what happened?”

  Out of breath, Nathan shook his head.

  “But you think Susannah had something to do with it?”

  Wheezing past the dry throat, he answered, “She better not be anywhere near there.”

  “But you think she might be.” It wasn’t a question.

  Good thing, because Nathan still couldn’t utter a sound.

  As they turned a street corner, he spotted his worst nightmare straight ahead: a huge column of smoke coming from a burning car in the community center parking lot.

  “Holy hell.” Ford steered to the curb, threw his cruiser into Park and shut it down. “We’re on foot from here.”

  Before climbing out of his vehicle, Ford called in and asked for fire department assistance. Nathan was way ahead of him—dashing through the crowds, pushing, shoving, not bothering to excuse himself. He forced his way closer and closer.

  Finally at the ring of people nearest the blazing car, he drew in enough air to ask, “Was anyone in there when it went up?”

  “That’s the mayor’s car!” someone shouted.

  “Can’t tell if he was in the car from here,” another man called out.

  A siren sounded in the distance, but it was coming closer. He had to find Susannah. If she wasn’t in the car, was she being held inside the center?

  He backed away from the still-blazing car and all the people standing around it. Looking up at the center, he spotted a side door that no one seemed to be guarding. If he could reach it, maybe he’d be able to slide inside for a look around the place.

  The crowds were swelling with onlookers, but he found a way to skirt the worst of them. He flattened himself to the bushes next to the wall of the center and tried to remain invisible behind the fog of smoke as he headed toward the side door.

  Before he was close enough to try the door handle, he spotted someone sitting on the sidewalk about ten feet from the door. And that someone was holding her head in her hands. When the smoke lifted some, he knew immediately it was Susannah.

  Thank God.

  Bending to one knee beside her, he asked, “Are you hurt? What can I do?”

  “Nathan? Oh, Nathan.”

  “I’m here. Is it bad?”

  “Mayor Kittridge. Help him.”

  “Huh?” Nathan looked around and found a pair of men’s shoes attached to legs and sticking out of a flower bed.

  He didn’t want to leave Susannah. “Is he dead?”

  “I don’t know. Jonathan Miller tried to kill him.”

  Reaching for his cell phone, Nathan straightened and went to check on the body while he waited to be put through to Ford. He bent beside the still, prone body of the mayor and checked his pulse. Thankfully, the man’s pulse was strong and steady.

  Ford came on the line. “McCall.”

  “I’m standing near the side entrance to the community center. The one closest to the parking lot. Mayor Kittridge has been injured. Susannah’s here but hurt.”

  “I’ll call the Cold Plains Urgent Care Clinic to send an ambulance and paramedics.”

  “I don’t want Devotees touching Susannah ever again.” He walked away from the mayor, satisfied the man’s breathing was easy, and went back to be with her. “She told me Jonathan Miller tried to kill the mayor.”

  “I just saw Miller in the crowd. He won’t get far.”

  “Susannah may be hurt bad. There’s a lot of blood.”

  “Take her to the new doc’s place. Doc Black. Corner of Success Avenue and Principle Lane.”

  “Where?”

  “Used to be Oak and Elm. In a converted 1930s bungalow. I’ll be there as soon as I can clear things up here. I need to question Susannah.”

  Not bothering to acknowledge him, Nathan hung up and bent to speak to Susannah. “The mayor’s alive. Paramedics are coming for him. How badly are you hurt?”

  As she dropped her hands, blood spewed all over her blouse and jacket and then sprayed his jacket, too.

  “Oh, crap, sweetheart. Why didn’t you say something?”

  Nathan ripped his jacket off and tore open his shirt. In seconds, he’d made a compress for her wound. “Hold this tightly against your forehead. We’re going to find Dr. Black.”

  “But…”

  He lifted her and cradled her in his arms as he would a child. “Hang on. This won’t take long. Try to stay still.”

  No one paid any attention to them as he charged through the streets past the crowds of people with Susannah holding on to her head with one hand and on to him with the other. She was losing so much blood. Deep waterfalls of the stuff gushed, soaking through his shirt in seconds.

  Racing down the last street, he saw Rafe Black coming the other way.

  “Dr. Black! It’s Susannah. Look at all this blood. Help her.”

  The doctor reversed course and ran alongside him. “Is she conscious?”

  “Yes. Just talked to her. But there’s so much blood.”

  The doc let them inside his office and asked Susannah to lie down, keeping her from becoming too light-headed. “Let me take a look.”

  With a quick wash of his hands, Dr. Black was bending over her with cotton swabs.

  His own hands were empty and itching to help. Fidgety, Nathan didn’t know what to do with himself. He paced around the office, needing something to do but not wanting to move away from her side.

  “Lie still, Susannah,” the doctor was saying. “There’s a large chunk of metal embedded in your forehead. It’s deep but looks a lot worse than I think it is. Still, head wounds bleed like a son of a gun.”

  Nathan stepped to the doctor’s side. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  The doctor shook his head. “I’ll get the bleeding stopped in a minute or two. After I give her something to numb the area, I’ll try debriding the wound so I can clean up the jagged edges, then suture whatever I can. No guarantees how pretty it’s going to be.”

  “I don’t care about that. Will she be all right?”

  “She’ll live. Just give me some time here.” He never looked up but went on with his work.

  Nathan stepped right outside and took a deep breath. He felt nauseous and shaky but fought it off.

  His father. He’d almost forgotten.

  After punching in his father’s number on his cell, he told him where he and Susannah were and asked him to join them. Then he lifted his head and sniffed the air. The smell of burning rubber filled his nostrils. That was going to be one hell of a mess for someone to clean up.

  What the devil had gone down here? And how had Susannah ended up in the middle of all the trouble?

  By the time his father pulled the pickup to the curb in front of the doctor’s office, Nathan was sitting on the front steps, trying to make some sense of things.

  When he explained everything to his dad, there were still big pieces of the puzzle he hadn’t figured out yet.

  “Best bet is to wait until Susannah can shed light on what she knows,” his father told him.

  “Ford’s on his way. He wants to talk to her.”

  “We’ll sit in on that discussion.”

  Yeah, they would—whether Ford liked the idea or not.

  “Are you okay, son? You look a little pale.”

  “I’m fine. But I have to say I never want to live through another scare like that in my lifetime.”

  His father patted his knee. “That’s just the way life goes. When we love someone, their welfare becomes more important than our own. You may have to hold up under a lot more of the same kind of stress or worse before your time on this earth is over.”

  It was a good half hour later when Ford arrived. By then, the smoky scent in the air had dissipated and his nerves were back under control.

  “Nate. Mr. Pierce. Everybody okay here?”

  “We’re good. But I’m not sure about Susannah. The doc is still working on her.”

  “Miller got away before I could reel him i
n. I put out a BOLO on him. He won’t get far. We have a lot of questions. For Susannah, too.”

  Nathan’s father got to his feet. “Well, let’s check on the doc’s progress.”

  The three of them entered the office with Ford in the lead. “Doc Black?”

  The doctor came out of the inner office. He ignored the fact his white coat was covered in blood spatters.

  Taking a breath, he said, “I’m giving her a few minutes to rest. She’s going to be as weak as a newborn for a day or two. But I don’t believe she lost enough blood for a transfusion. She’s in good health. She’ll rebound.”

  Nathan’s knees started to wobble again, but his father quietly held him up from behind. “Can we see her now?”

  “In a minute.” Dr. Black turned to Ford. “Were there any other casualties? Is a doctor needed anywhere else?”

  “The only other person hurt in the explosion was Mayor Kittridge. But I just talked to the Devotee clinic and was told he’ll be fine. Had a few minor cuts and bruises and a slight concussion but no broken bones. He claims he’ll be back to work by tomorrow.”

  The doc nodded. “What the hell happened?”

  “That’s what we hope Susannah can tell us.”

  “All right. Let me check on her a second.” Dr. Black went back into the interior room.

  But he was back within minutes. “She’s sitting up and drinking orange juice. I think she should be able to answer questions now.”

  Nathan was the first to reach her side as she sat on the edge of an examining table. She seemed fragile, and the bandage covering her forehead looked ominous. He wanted to gather her up in his arms and race back to the ranch, where he could protect her and keep her from any further harm. But he knew that wouldn’t happen for a little while yet.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “Oh, Nathan.” She reached out her hand to him.

  He took her offered hand in his own and entwined their fingers. Her skin felt warm, soft. The jolt of love he experienced with her touch was a big surprise. But maybe it shouldn’t have been.

  “You’re going to be just fine,” he said with a hoarse voice. “Can you talk for a few minutes? Ford needs to ask you some questions.”