Dangerous world, p.22
Dangerous World, page 22
In the split second between the rope falling and his right hand joining his left, his stomach dropped out from under him and a cold sweat covered his brow.
He was panting, hanging on, unable to move.
For several minutes, he stayed like that, trying to calm his breathing. Okay, PB, time to roll.
He took one more breath, then continued his climb down.
Moving slowly, checking each foothold and handhold before he changed position, he scaled the remainder of the bluffs. Ignoring the pain that shot from his knee down to his ankle, and the seasick sensation that took hold whenever he focused on the ground below, he kept moving.
Six feet from the ground, he was tempted to jump, but his knee stopped him; he couldn’t afford to damage it further or he’d never catch up with Laurel.
Four feet from the ground, he finally let go and dropped.
Aware that if he gave himself a moment to catch his breath, the pain in his knee would take hold, Bear headed straight for the forest. Beneath the canopy, it was dark and quiet. Moving toward the area he imagined Laurel would have entered, he scoured the ground for tracks.
Finally, he found some. It felt strange to be traveling alone, without Jess or Trent to talk to, but he pressed forward. He’d been traveling a little over an hour when he came to a small clearing. He stopped and was bracing his hands on his thighs, breathing through the pain in his rapidly swelling knee, when he saw something in front of him.
A foot.
He looked up. There on the ground was a body. A young man, blood pooled beneath him, soaking into the forest floor. Eyes open, staring unblinking at the leaves above him.
Bear crouched down, wincing as pain shot from his knee to his foot. He felt for a pulse, even though he knew there wouldn’t be one. The boy was one of Britt’s men. Bear recognized him from the frozen lake. Ryan, she’d called him.
Unfortunately for Ryan, he’d taken a bullet to the stomach.
Standing back up, Bear scanned the area. A few feet in front of Ryan was another bloodstain, smaller. But it didn’t lead anywhere. Whoever this stain was from had been carried from the clearing.
His throat constricting as he thought of the boys, of Laurel trying to carry them, or the two of them trying to carry her, Bear searched the undergrowth until he re-found the trail. Before following it, he snapped a branch off a nearby tree. Using it as a cane, he plowed on.
He was almost at the edge of the woods when he smelled smoke. Campfire smoke.
Up ahead, orange flickered through the trees. Bear slowed his pace and approached as slowly as he could. Each step made him wince and lean harder on his makeshift cane.
Straining his ears, he thought he could make out voices, but couldn’t hear well enough to catch what they were saying. Finally, he was close enough to see. Pressing against a tree, he peered around it and his heart leaped into his throat.
“Laurel!” He called her name before he could stop himself, and stepped into view as she stood up and whirled round, holding her weapon in front of her.
It took only seconds for her to lower it, a smile breaking out on her face. “Bear….” She whispered his name, so he couldn’t hear it, but he knew its shape on her lips. Running over, she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. Close to his ear, she said, “I knew you’d make it. I knew you would.”
For a long moment, he held her, breathing in the faint smell of her hair mixed with smoke and pine trees. When he stepped back, still leaning on his cane with one hand, he left the other on her waist. “You’re okay?” he asked, meeting her gaze. “You’re all okay? I saw a kid back there, one of Britt’s guys. There was blood….”
Interrupting, rushing over to thump Bear on the shoulder, Trent widened his eyes and said, “The dude had a gun to my head but Laurel was awesome. She tricked him. Took him out. She saved us.”
Bear raised his eyebrows and took in Laurel’s it was nothing expression. “That doesn’t surprise me at all,” he said.
Over by the campfire, Liam was sitting cross-legged, a pile of blankets in his lap. He looked up at Bear and rested his palms on the blankets.
“You okay, kid?” Bear asked. “You managed the journey okay?”
Liam nodded but looked at Laurel.
Something crossed between them and it made Bear’s heart thud a little faster in his ribcage. Looking around, he frowned. “Where’s Jess? She off chasing rabbits? You probably should have kept her on a leash. She didn’t go looking for me, did she?”
No one answered.
Bear looked from Laurel to Trent. While Trent averted his eyes, Laurel breathed in deeply. “Bear….”
He inhaled sharply, his gut twisting violently. The blood on the ground. If Ryan had a gun to Trent’s head, he could only imagine what Jess would have done. “Where is she, Laurel?”
Suddenly, Laurel’s eyes softened and she shook her head. Putting her hand firmly on his arm, she said, “Oh, no, no. She’s okay. She’s fine. She has a war wound, though.”
Bear turned as Liam stood up. He held his pile of blankets out to Bear, and it was in that moment he saw a white flash of fur. Taking it from Liam, Bear pulled back the blanket. Jess looked up at him and let out a small but happy whimper.
“You silly, silly dog. What have you done?” Bear sank to the ground, not even caring that his knee felt like it was going to crumple beneath him. “Silly girl.” He lowered his head to Jess’s, then saw the wound on her front leg.
Crouching down next to him, Laurel said, “I cleaned the wound and stitched it. The bullet hit her at a shallow angle, so it’s not too bad. She’ll be okay.”
“Why isn’t she moving?”
“I gave her some pain meds and a little valerian. Liam foraged some a while back.” Laurel looked at Liam and smiled approvingly. “So she’s a little spaced out, is all.”
“Valerian?”
“It’s totally fine for dogs. The pain meds are meant for humans, but a small amount to get her through the next few days won’t hurt.” Catching Bear’s eyes, Laurel added firmly, “She’ll be okay, Papa Bear.”
At the use of his nickname, a smile twitched on Bear’s lips. Holding out his arms, he beckoned Trent and Laurel in for a hug. When Liam didn’t join them, Bear waved at him and said, “You too, kid. Looks like your Boy Scout skills really came in handy for Jess here.”
Tucking into the bundle, Bear saw Liam smile a little. He breathed out slowly. They were together and they were safe. Laurel and the boys, and Jess. Just like he’d promised.
When he sat back, returning Jess to Liam so he could take her over to the fire, Bear rubbed his knee and stretched his leg out in front of him.
Patting his leg, Laurel raised her eyebrows at him. “Now it’s my turn to ask questions.”
“Questions?”
“What happened to your leg? What happened to Jim? And is Britt….” She trailed off, pressing her lips together.
Still rubbing his knee, Bear’s jaw twitched. “Britt and the cabin are gone. The plan worked. The flare hit it and the kerosene lit the place on fire. My knee smashed into the bluffs when I abseiled down this morning.”
“And Jim?” Trent was next to Laurel. He seemed more curious than concerned about their former robber’s fate.
Bear shook his head. “He didn’t make it.”
Trent shrugged. “No great loss there.”
“No,” he replied. “But to give him his due, he came through at the end. He stayed and tried to fight off Britt. I owe him that, at least. I could have tried to carry him, but there was no way I’d have gotten off the roof with him on my back.”
As Trent lowered his gaze, Laurel took Bear’s hand in hers and squeezed. “You came back to us. That’s all that matters.” After a pause, she took her fingers back and said, “Right. Now, let me look at this knee.”
33
DEB
ONE WEEK LATER
It was almost sunset. Deb’s breath billowed in thick clouds into the early evening air. Pulling her coat closer, she rubbed her hands together. She was wearing gloves, but her fingertips were still freezing cold.
Picking up the gun that lay in her lap, she flexed her index finger on the trigger. Her finger was so numb she could barely feel it.
She’d been out here too long. She knew that. Any minute now, Henry would come looking for her. Or Hannah. Or Bulldog. Even Chris Jenkins had taken to keeping a watchful eye on her.
It was as if everyone knew—even without her telling them—that something had changed. That her body was growing weaker.
She tried her best to hide it. She still played cards, helped in the kitchen, helped the nurses. But when no one was looking—or at least when she thought no one was looking—it was like a balloon inside her deflated and she could barely pull herself up out of her chair.
Tightening the blanket that she’d laid across her thighs, she narrowed her eyes at the woods. Despite the snow, she knew the deer had been venturing out, attempting to find blades of grass to nibble. And she was determined to shoot one.
For whatever reason, that morning she’d woken with a feeling deep in the pit of her stomach that this was what everyone needed today. Real food. Something to take their mind off the fact that the hospital was cold and bleak without Laurel, and that Peter was getting sicker and had no meds to help him.
Something to bring back the jolly atmosphere of those first few nights in the new joint dorm that Bear had helped to create.
She’d hunted many times over the years, with Laurel’s father and by herself. And since Bear left, she’d taken to visiting the place where he taught Trent how to shoot so she could hone her skills once more.
It was something to distract her from the monotony of waiting for Laurel. Thinking about Bear. Wondering if Trent ever caught up with him.
How she wished she’d stopped him from leaving. How she wished she’d seen in his eyes what he was planning to do and locked him in one of the offices to prevent him walking out the door.
Chewing her lower lip, wishing she had a nicer shade of lipstick than the harsh red she was wearing, which did nothing to compliment her ever-paler complexion, she once again scanned the tree line.
Half watching the trees, half listening for the sound of feet in the snow behind her, she tried to push Henry from her mind. She’d been thinking of him a lot lately. Probably too much.
He was such a kind man, possibly the best man she’d ever known. But she didn’t want him to have to go through what was coming next. Because even if Laurel did return, Deb knew in the pit of her stomach that it would not be to save her. It would be to say goodbye to her.
She blinked hard and wiped a tear from her eye. Then something moved. She froze. Waited. Waited some more. Then as the large white-tailed deer stepped out of the trees, she fired.
It fell instantly.
Deb’s heart was pounding in her rib cage. She could hear it, thud, thud, thud in her ears.
“Nice shot.” Henry’s voice made her jump almost clean out of her seat. Spinning around, she slapped him gently on the arm.
“Don’t sneak up on a woman holding a gun, Henry. I could have done you some real damage.”
Henry looked down at her and smiled. Then he gestured for her to move over and sat down beside her. “How long have you been out here?” He put an arm around her shoulders and rubbed the top of her arm. “You’re a block of ice.”
“A block of ice who just caught us some dinner.” Deb raised her eyebrows at him. She wanted to cough. The itch was building in her throat. Her chest was tightening, but she swallowed it down and shakily stood up. “Will you help me get it back up to the hospital?”
Henry stood up too and folded his arms in front of his chest. “You think the two of us can haul more than a hundred pounds of deer all the way up the lawn?” He turned and looked back toward the rear of the hospital. In summer, this was a large, green, beautifully manicured lawn, strewn with staff and patients. Now, it was simply an expanse of snow that took forever to wade through.
“I tell you what. Come back inside with me. Get warmed up, and I’ll ask Bulldog to come help me with the deer.”
Deb inhaled slowly, still fighting the cough. She had straightened her shoulders and was tipping up her chin rather defiantly. A few years ago, she’d have strode down there and helped him herself.
“All right.” She softened a little when Henry smiled at her. Slipping her arm through his, she nodded. “All right. I suppose it is rather chilly out here.”
It took them longer than usual to get back across the lawn. Henry had noticed. He must have noticed that she was slowing down. But he didn’t say anything, simply kept pace with her and steadied her with his arm.
When they were finally inside, he put his hand on the small of her back and guided her down the hallway. Before they reached the canteen—which was still serving as the hospital’s living quarters—Janet appeared up ahead and Henry waved to her.
“Janet, would you mind getting Deb a hot drink? She’s just caught us our supper.”
Janet raised her eyebrows and grinned. “Have you now?”
Deb smiled back, a little thinly; Janet had a habit of speaking to Deb as if she was ancient and hard of hearing. She meant well, but she was still irritating.
“Well, then. A hot drink’s definitely in order. What did you catch? A rabbit?”
“A deer.” Deb pulled off her gloves, shoved them into her pocket, and untucked her arm from Henry’s. Turning to him, she said, “I’ll tell Mrs. Johnson to expect it.”
Henry nodded, and in a gesture that was becoming ever more natural between the two of them, he squeezed her hand. “Will do.”
As Henry headed for the foyer to find Bulldog, Deb set off in the direction of the canteen. Janet stepped into line with her. But before they reached the doors at the end of the hallway, Deb found she could hold back her cough no longer. At first, she cleared her throat. It helped a little, but then the tightness in her chest threatened to overwhelm her. She coughed a little. Then again. Then before she knew it, she was bent double and could hardly catch her breath.
“Deb. Deb?” Janet put her hands on Deb’s shoulders. She was moving her. Where was she moving her to? “Sit down.” She ushered her into a chair.
Deb waved her hands. “I’m fine.” It was a wheelchair. She didn’t need a wheelchair.
“You’re not fine. You’ve been out in the cold too long.” Janet crouched down and inhaled slowly through her nose, gesturing for Deb to copy her.
For a few moments, they stayed like that, breathing in and out, in and out. Finally, her breathing returned to something close to normal.
“Deb….” Janet put her hands on Deb’s knees and looked up at her. “You’re not a well lady. You need to look after yourself.”
Deb fought the urge to scoff, in case it set off another coughing fit. Had she always been this indignant? Or had that happened since Laurel left?
“Laurel wants you in one piece when she gets back. She’ll kill me if I let anything happen to you.” Janet smiled and patted Deb’s knee.
Looking at Janet’s face, Deb softened a little. Gently, she tapped her fingers on the back of Janet’s hand. “Point taken. I’ll be more careful in future.”
Janet nodded. “And if there’s anything you need to tell me… anything about your health….”
“There’s nothing.” Deb looked away because her eyes were becoming moist. “But I’ll tell you this… I really do need that hot drink now, I think.”
Smiling thinly, Janet gave a small sigh but stood up. For a moment, Deb thought about insisting she could walk back to the canteen. But when Janet started pushing the chair, she found she didn’t have the energy to protest.
An hour later, after watching Henry and Bulldog wheel her deer into the canteen on a gurney, and hearing the entire room erupt with whoops and cheers, Deb quietly removed herself and headed for the stairs.
At the bottom, she looked up and grimaced. She shouldn’t do this now. She knew she shouldn’t. Not after the coughing. But it had become a ritual, and it was one she wasn’t willing to give up on.
She’d made it just a few steps when she began to cough again.
This time, it wasn’t Janet who steadied her. It was Henry. Catching hold of her elbow, he tilted his head and smiled at her. “Come on, Duchess. Don’t keep trying to hide from me.”
Deb steadied herself on the banister. “Oh, Henry.” She lowered her eyes. “I’m so sorry….”
Tucking his finger under her chin, Henry gently raised her face up to his. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said, stroking a strand of hair from her cheek. Hair that used to be dyed dark but was now displaying shiny silver roots that she was desperate to cover up. “But please don’t try to do this on your own.”
“It’s only stairs. I’ve done it a million times.”
“I’m not talking about the stairs.” Henry caught her gaze and refused to let go until she nodded.
“Oh.” She smiled. “All right. I promise.”
“Good.” He looked toward the top of the steps. “In that case, shall we?”
“It might take me a while.”
“I don’t have anywhere to be.”
When they reached the top, after stopping more than once for Deb to catch her breath, Henry once again held out his arm and, together, they walked toward Deb’s old room. The one with the view of the front lawn and the parking lot.
Settling into her chair by the window, she allowed Henry to wrap a blanket around her shoulders. Nudging her gently, he said, “Don’t tell Bella but…” and he held up a box of matches. Shaking them, he gestured to the trash can in the corner of the room. “Shall I?”
Deb smiled. Her muscles relaxed and she eased back into her chair. “Yes. You should.”
