Digitalis (21 page)

“So, you
were
leaving me.”

“Town. I was leaving town, moving.”

“You were leaving me!”

She swallowed—hard. “I had no choice.”

The storm had drifted through the window and into his face. “You always have a choice.”

She jerked toward him, her heart speeding through her chest. “When they call, you go. Do you have a choice?”

He frowned. “That’s different.”

“How?”

“When I go out there, when I leave my family, I’m protecting lives.”

Piper narrowed her eyes. “So am I.”

“No, you don’t understand—”

“It’s you who doesn’t understand.” She found herself on her feet, hands fisted. “You aren’t the only one in this world with secrets that protect other people.”

“Who are you protecting, Piper?”

Her courage failed. “I cannot tell you.”

Then, without warning, he grinned. Leaned back against the counter. “Nicely done.”

“What?”

“When I walked out the door the other night, you said you’d tell me
everything
.” He cocked his head and pursed his lips. “I’m thinking you haven’t made good on that promise and don’t plan on it.”

“I can’t.”

He straightened, towering over her. “Can’t? Or won’t?”

“It’s the same thing in this case.”

A myriad of things flashed over his face, each one registering with the impact of a brick wall to Piper. Hurt. Anger. Rejection. Grief. “ ‘Nough said.” He stomped toward the door.

“Why won’t you trust me …?” Her words trailed off, lost in her realization that the question had answered itself. He couldn’t trust her. Who would, when she wouldn’t give him answers? When she hid everything about herself? He wanted more than she could give.

“Why won’t I trust you?” His laugh proved hollow and grating. “I won’t trust you because you’ve all but admitted you’re lying to me, hiding things, and then stand there and say you won’t tell me the truth!”

Piper’s vision blurred beneath the tears. “I can’t tell you!” she shouted. “He’ll di—” She clamped her mouth shut as a burst of dread and panic shot through her belly.

“Die?” Eyes narrowed, he pressed into her space. “
Who
will die?”

She shook her head. “I can’t. Please, please don’t ask me ….”

Colton raised a hand, then lowered it. “Never mind.” With that, he stalked down the hall to his room.

What a stupid, idiotic dolt she was. To think she could find a way to skirt the truth yet provide morsels of it at the same time. She’d nearly endangered her father. And lost Colton while doing it.

This story didn’t have a happy ending. It never would.

Piper peered after him once more. When she heard the shower turn on, she dragged her gaze back down the hall … and settled on the boots lined up by the door, directly under the alarm.

Her heart caught.

Green. The alarm wasn’t on.

Piper spun and, on her tiptoes, she sailed across the living room, down the rear passage to the guest room. She changed into her jeans and a shirt, then grabbed her pack and a jacket. Back at the side door, she stuffed her feet into the big wading-style boots and snatched the rain slicker from the rack.

Rain hammered her as she stepped into the dark night. The darkest night of her life.

No, she had to be positive. Had to be …

She screamed into the deafening elements. There was no more positive. Only surviving. Getting through. She was fed up with trying to be the good little girl. The one who did what was expected of her. The one who didn’t complain or argue. Prim and proper had gotten her nothing but pain. When Baba told her his plan, she’d tried to object, but he’d used his fatherly authority and forced her to comply. She should’ve used the good brain she’d been given.

Then again, considering the situation she was in, who would say she had a good brain? Wouldn’t someone intelligent have found a better solution or path? A way to get their father to safety with his proof?

Puddles sloshed mud up at her, but she didn’t care. She stomped onward, the adrenaline pumping her legs hard and fast. She wouldn’t be stopped. Not again. She had to get far away from … everyone.

Plodding on became more like trudging. Then dragging. The water grew higher under the flash-flooding along the side of the road, and the sludge thicker and more difficult. Though she looked for higher ground, she couldn’t see more than a few inches with the sheets of rain. Piper drifted to the side, where the pothole-laden country road provided little difference. At least she was trying to wade through a river of mud.

She pitched forward. Mud splashed into her face. She braced herself … but slowly sunk in the muck. Panic thrummed against her chest as she struggled to get back on her feet. Finally, she stood, slopped the hair out of her face, and pushed … dragged on. Compliments of the mud and muck, just moving forward, what normally required no effort, now demanded a full athletic workout.

Piper had managed no more than six slogging steps before she did another face-plant. She yelped as pain stabbed through her ankle. She shoved up out of the filthy water, sputtering and gagging. Spitting the mud from her mouth, she wiped her face.

Unable to move, she ignored the pain and worked to free herself. Submerged, her foot wouldn’t budge. Her fingers ached as she reached through the cold needling water and traced the spot. Somehow, she’d gotten wedged between some rocks.

Headlights broke through the black void of the storm.

Coming straight at her.

She gasped. If they didn’t see her, they’d run her over. She waved her arms. Pushed against the rocks with her free foot—only to get it caught too. Rain pelted her face. She heard it hammering the steel barreling toward her.

“Stop,” she screamed and waved again as she battled the elements. “Stop!”

But the car came unheeding.

Piper hauled in a breath as the vehicle approached. Fire jolted up her leg. “Please.” She kicked, wiggled, and thrashed, crying.

A dozen feet away. Tires sluiced through the downpour, forming a small squall that rushed onto the sides of the swelling road.

Blinding, she jerked away. “Yeshua, help me!” She threw herself to the side, hoping to protect most of her body. The car would run over her legs, but …

Brakes squawked almost in her ear. Tiny rocks peppered her face as the car swished to a stop, sliding right up until the bumper nudged her shoulder.

“What on earth …?” a voice called.

Piper bent around and stared up. In the split second that a bolt of lightning streaked through the sky, she spotted a large star decal on the driver’s side door. Sheriff. She blinked and strained to see past the water rushing down her face.

An old man scowled down at her. “Waddya doin’ out in weather like this?”

“I’m … my leg. I’m stuck.”

“What a fool thing,” he mumbled as he climbed out of the cruiser. “Nearly gave me a heart attack. Don’t you know ain’t nobody gonna see you in the weather?”

That was the point
.

He bent and flashed a light on her foot. “Here, just hang on a sec.” With a slight turn of her foot, he managed to free her. “Now, that wasn’t so bad. Can ya stand?”

Piper batted the hair from her face and tried to push herself up.

“All your panickin’ probably made ya not think straight.” He helped her to her feet and wrapped an arm around her. “Come on. Let’s get you out of the rain.”

Never so glad to be rescued, Piper hobbled to the back of the sheriff’s car.

“Don’t think ya broke it. But you got a mighty nice sprain.” He eased the door closed and climbed into the front. A wire rack formed a barrier between them as he put the car in gear, then lifted a phone to his ear. “Yep, I found her.” The sheriff nodded. “Sure thing, Colton. I’ll bring her back.”

B
eams of light shattered the darkness and streaked over the pocked kitchen window. Colton pressed the phone to his ear as the police cruiser lumbered onto the flooded stretch of road that led to his driveway.

“Jacobs.”

“I could use some backup.” When Max didn’t respond, Colton wondered if he was expecting too much. But he really wanted the support. “If it’s a probl—”

“I’ll be there.” The line went dead.

He holstered his phone and watched through the kitchen window as Bart eased the car up to the side of the house. From the rack near the door, he grabbed a hat and slid it on as he stepped into the pelting weather. He peered through the downpour toward the car.

Colton flicked his gaze from Bart in the front seat, talking on his radio, to the backseat. Piper sat, her head down and shoulders sagging.

Good.

In the half hour since she’d fled the safety of his home, his parents had returned and the sheriff had set out, lured into the storm by the silent alarm Piper’s sudden departure triggered. Hands on his hips, he worked to temper his anger, the hurt, the complete failure he’d felt like knowing she preferred an early winter storm to his company and protection.

The screen door squeaked behind him. “She looks upset,” his father said.

“She ain’t got nothing on me.” He stepped into the rain and hurried to the cruiser.

Bart climbed out. “Hate to dump her and run, but I got another call—old Nessie’s squawking about someone being in her barn.” As he opened the rear door he said, “Her ankle’s wrenched. Don’t think it’s broke.”

Colton let the piercing drops and whipping wind needle his mood. What was so dawg awful about him that she fled? He bent in.

Hands in her lap, she was a sight. Mud smeared over her face—several streaks almost washed clean. Tears? He frowned as his gaze tracked her hair hanging in muddy strings. She kept her gaze down and made no response as he knelt on the seat.

All the anger, all the frustration, leeched out of him at the brokenness he saw in her posture, her normally vibrant face. He held out a hand. “Let’s get you inside.”

Willingly, she scooted out of the car and stood—yelped and crumpled against the car.

Colton scooped her into his arms and rushed her into the dry warmth of his home. He carried her to the couch.

She tensed as he lowered her toward the leather material. “No! I’m filthy. I’ll ruin your furniture.”

With a grunt, Colton set her down. Did she really think a couch was more important? “I need to get a look at your ankle.”

“Please …” Piper slumped and sagged again, shivering. Beneath the shudders and utter defeat written over her dirty features, she had a blue tinge easing into her lips.

“Stay put.” Colton hurried to the hall closet and snatched a fleece blanket. He returned and wrapped it around her. Caramel eyes flitted to his and away quick as a hummingbird. The swell of emotion crying out from those beautiful irises tugged at his heart.

No heart-tugging
. She fled. Into a storm. Abandoned him.

“Let me see what you did when you thought a raging storm would be safer than being with me.” He knelt and removed her shoe, eliciting a quick intake of breath from Piper, who gripped the back of the sofa as if bracing herself.

He probed the sides and compared her two ankles. “It’s swollen. Not broken though.” He lifted her arm and looped it over his shoulder. “Let’s get you showered—make it a hot one—and changed, so you don’t end up with pneumonia.” He hoisted her off the sofa, carried her through the house, and deposited her inside the bathroom.

Colton moved away, glancing around the room. “Where’s your bag?”

She shrugged. “I … I lost it.” Then her eyes widened. “No! My bag. We have to find it.”

Had the woman lost her fool mind?—well, yes, she had. “Nobody’s going out in the storm.”

She hobbled toward him and nearly slipped onto her backside because of the puddle her dripping clothes created. “You don’t understand—”

“I’m pretty sure we’ve established that a thousand times over.” He stepped back. “Now, shower up. I’m calling someone to look at your foot.”

“You just said nobody’s going out in the storm.”

“Nobody meaning you or me.” He pointed to the glassed-in area. “Shower.”

“I—”

He shot her a piercing glare. Was she still going to challenge him? He hesitated when she withered under his fierce look. Colton drew back the reins on his anger. “What?”

“My bag … I don’t have dry clothes.”

She was taller and slimmer than his mom, but surely he could find something for the night. “They’ll be waiting outside the door when you’re done washing off the filth. And while you’re at it, why don’t you rinse with some good sense.” Colton started to leave, then moved back into her view. “Oh.” He drew out his MEU.45 and did a press check. “I’m ready if you want to run again.”

The wide eyes and her half-open mouth told him the demonstration had the desired effect. Lord knew he wouldn’t ever be able to fire on her, but the message came through clear enough. She needed the point made.

He made another call. “I need your medical expertise.”

Throbbing music pounded the line. “Now? In case you missed it, there’s a possible hurricane off the coast.”

“When was the last time I called you, Midas?”

A thick pause pulsed through the phone line. “Twenty minutes.”