Finding Forever (Smoky Mountain Lawmen Book 1) (11 page)

Gemma
blinked trying to bring the world back into focus.  Why were things spinning? 
The leaves on the trees above her swirled wildly in her field of vision.  A
face appeared over her and she tried to draw back, startled, but met with
resistance against her back.  All of a sudden she realized she was on the
ground staring up and that a man was kneeling over her.

Panicking,
Gemma struggled to scramble away.  Hands grabbed her to hold her still.  She
screamed.  “Let me go!” 

The
hands immediately released her and Gemma tried to back up.  Splitting pain in
her head stopped her.  She grabbed her head and rolled to her side, moaning. 

Why
does my head feel like Wyle E. Coyote set off one of his Acme bombs inside it?

“Gemma? 
Gemma?  Can you hear me?”

She
nodded and pain split her skull again.  Her stomach rolled.  “Oh God.  I’m
going to be sick.”  Choking back the bile rising in her throat, Gemma tried to
take a deep breath.  Pain rushed through her torso and she gasped. 
What the
hell?!

Unable
to draw a decent breath she started hyperventilating.  Black spots dotted her
vision and the pain in her head increased again.  She fought to stay conscious,
terrified. 
I can’t let him take me!

The
black spots solidified and started crowding out the edges of her vision. 
Unable to stop it, Gemma prayed that this was all just a nightmare and that
she’d awaken safe in her bed.

Her
limbs went limp as the blackness finally consumed her.

Ben
and Tristan pushed through the ER doors at a near run.  Patrons scattered as
they barreled past.  People in line at the admissions desk wisely stepped aside
to allow the two men up to the window. 

“Gentlemen,
you can’t just barge up here like that.  There is a line for a reason,” the
clerk behind the Plexiglas informed them. 

Tristan
slapped his shield against the window.  “Madison County Sheriff’s Department. 
We’re looking for a patient that was brought in not long ago.  Gemma Mabley.” 

The
clerk quickly looked up the name.  “She’s still in the treatment room.  If
you’ll have a seat in the waiting area someone will be with you as soon as
possible.”

It
was Ben’s turn to show his badge, knowing it would carry more weight.  “FBI. 
We need to get back there.  She’s under police protection and we need to know
what happened and to find out if this is connected to our case.”  It wasn’t a
lie—they did need to know if what happened today was connected to the case—but he
figured this information would get him further than telling her that he and
Tristan were her—whatever he was to Gemma, and her brother.

“Sir,
I can’t let you past the doors without a doctor’s approval.  If you’ll have a
seat, I’ll call the exam room and have them send someone out to talk to you.” 
The clerk, a woman in her mid-sixties, stared them down with a stare that Ben
was sure she had perfected on her children and grandchildren.  He’d seen the
same look on his mother’s face often enough to know they weren’t going to get
anything out of her and he wasn’t in the mood for the flak that would come with
forcing his way into the treatment area.

“Tell
them to hurry,” he told her.  He put a hand on Tristan’s arm and motioned for
the man to follow him to the waiting area, satisfied to see the woman reaching
for the phone as he walked away.

Tristan
paced while Ben settled against the wall. 

Tristan
had barely done three turns of the room before a man in blue scrubs and an air
of authority pushed through the doors leading to the treatment area and zeroed
in on them.  “Are you the ones asking about Gemma Mabley?”

Tristan
was at the man’s side in two long strides, Ben close behind.  “She’s my
sister,” Tristan said.  “What happened?  Is she alright?” 

The
doctor eyed Ben. 

“Friend,”
Ben said at the questioning lift of the man’s eyebrow. 

The
doctor nodded.  “I’m Dr. Thompson.  Ms. Mabley was thrown from her horse.  She
likely sustained a concussion and some cracked ribs.  We’re getting ready to
send her up to CT now.”

“Can
we see her before you send her up?” Tristan asked. 

The
doctor hesitated slightly.  Ben put on his most intimidating agent face and
silently stared the man down.  Neither he nor Tristan would relax until they
had seen her and verified for themselves that she was okay.  And where was her
damned police guard?  They hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the man yet.

“Okay,”
the doctor replied.  “But only for a minute.”

Ben
followed behind Tristan and the doctor as they swept through the doors to the
ER’s inner sanctum.  Emotions roiled through him: fear, relief, anger.  Each
was vying for the top spot.  They really needed to stop getting these calls
about Gemma.  If the woman wasn’t so damn stubborn and would just leave like
they had asked they probably would. 

Or
at the very least she could stay inside where she was safe behind four walls
and a bodyguard.  That would alleviate the problem as well.

The
doctor swept aside a curtain to reveal a bevy of activity.  Nurses bustled to
and fro, papers and medical paraphernalia in hand.  His eyes paused on the man
leaning against the back wall, trying to stay out of the way—Officer Maxwell. 
Well,
that answers that question
.  He nodded at the man in recognition then continued
his perusal of the room.  His gaze finally landed on the frightfully pale woman
lying on the gurney in the center of the activity.  Her chestnut hair was badly
disheveled and dirt streaked her too white skin.

Ben
hovered near the entrance to the cubicle while Tristan hurried to his sister’s
side.

“Gemma! 
Are you alright?” Tristan asked grasping her hand.

Ben
watched, alarmed, as her head lolled toward his voice.  He hoped that was a
side effect of painkillers and not her head wound.  Her eyes were wide and
frightful.  “You can’t let him get me, Tristan!  You have to stop him!  Where’s
Ben?!  He’ll help you.”

Ben’s
heart stuttered at the abject fear in her voice.  In a few long strides he was
at her side, holding her hand.  “I’m right here, Gems.  You’re safe.”

Her
head swung around drunkenly at the sound of his voice.  She winced and he
watched her fight back a bout of nausea.  Ben bent low and twined the fingers
of his free hand in her hair.  “Baby, you’re okay.  You’re at the hospital. 
You fell off your horse.”

A
frown wrinkled her brow as she tried to focus.

Tristan
followed Ben’s lead and bent in close.  “Sis, do you remember what happened? 
Why did Jasper toss you?”

Her
frown intensified as she struggled to remember.  “Noise.  There was a loud
noise and he reared.”

Ben
caught the frown Tristan sent his way.  “You’re sure?” Tristan asked.

Gemma
nodded slowly.  Her eyes were starting to droop.

“We’re
ready to take her to CT now.”  One of the nurses had sidled up next to him and
spoke softly.  Ben nodded at her.

“Tris,”
he said quietly. 

Tristan
looked up and Ben motioned toward the nurse.  He nodded as he caught Ben’s
meaning.  “Sis, the doctors need to run some more tests on you right now, but
Ben and I will see you later.”

Ben
felt her hand tighten around his briefly before she nodded.  The nurse unlocked
the brake on the gurney and slowly started to wheel it out of the room.  Ben
let Gemma’s hand slide from his leaving a bereft feeling in its wake.

Tristan
stepped close as they watched the medical team take her away. 

“It
doesn’t make sense,” Tristan said, staring after the disappearing gurney.

Ben
looked at his old friend.  “What doesn’t?”

Tristan
looked at him then.  “Jasper spooking at a loud noise.  That horse is the most
unflappable horse I’ve ever run across.  He’s naturally steadfast, but he’s
been well-trained on normal stressors too because he doubles as a therapy
horse.  Loud noise—commotion of any kind—shouldn’t have startled him.  Not like
that.  No.  Something else besides a noise spooked that horse.  I want to talk
to the people she was with and have a look at Jasper.  See if we can’t piece
together what happened.”

Ben
nodded, trusting Tristan’s instincts.  They had saved his ass more than once
and he wasn’t going to doubt the man now.  Not with Gemma’s safety on the
line.  “Might as well start with him.”  He motioned behind him to where Officer
Maxwell still stood near the wall, watching them patiently.

Ben
motioned the man over.  “Tell us what you know,” he ordered.

“I’m
afraid I don’t know much.  I was with the truck when one of the other riders
came barreling out of the woods on her horse about the same time an ambulance
screamed into the parking lot.

“I
asked what was going on and she said Gemma had fallen off her horse.  She took
one of the EMTs back with her on horseback while the other one and I ran
behind.  When we reached the group, she was unconscious and the EMT was
assessing her.”

“Did
she miss a check-in?” Tristan asked. 

Officer
Maxwell shook his head.  “No.  She’d been texting me regularly to tell me she
was safe.  She was due for another check-in about the time the ambulance showed
up.”

“You’re
sure it was Gemma texting you?” Tristan asked.

Maxwell
pulled out his phone and looked up the messages.  He handed it to Tristan. 
“Read those and tell me that doesn’t sound like her.  I may not have known her
long, but I quickly learned she’s got a wicked sense of humor and she’s none
too happy about being followed around 24/7.”

Tristan
grunted in agreement as he read.  “It was definitely her,” he said looking over
at Ben.  “These have her brand of sarcasm all over them.”

“Alright. 
Is there anything else you remember or noticed?” Ben asked.

Officer
Maxwell shook his head.  “No.  That was about the extent of my involvement. 
Once the paramedics and I arrived on scene the rest of the group backed away so
we could do our jobs.  I left with Gemma, so I didn’t get a chance to talk with
any of them.”

Ben
led the way out of the cubicle, the others following.  “Maxwell, I want you to
stay with Gemma as planned.  We’ll talk to hospital security so they know
you’re supposed to be hanging around.” 

He
stopped at the central work desk for the ER staff and found Dr. Thompson.

“Dr.
Thompson, this officer needs to stay close to Ms. Mabley.  Does he need an
escort to get to CT?”

Dr.
Thompson looked at Maxwell.  “Have you been cleared with hospital security
yet?”

“Haven’t
had time, doc,” Maxwell stated.

Dr.
Thompson rose.  “Then yes, you’ll need an escort.”  He flagged down an
orderly.  “Can you show this officer to CT, please?  He needs to stay with a
patient.  Gemma Mabley.”

The
orderly nodded and Maxwell followed him from the ER.

Dr.
Thompson turned to the two men who had invaded his ER.  “Is this all really
necessary?  That man was terribly disruptive when Ms. Mabley was brought in. 
He refused to leave and threatened to arrest anyone who tried to remove him
from the area.”

Ben’s
clenched his jaw trying not to deck the arrogant physician.  He thrust an arm
out across Tristan’s chest to halt the step he had taken toward the man.  “Ms.
Mabley is the target of a violent man.  I assure you, the precautions are very
necessary.”

Dr.
Thompson frowned.  “Well, please clear your officer with hospital security, so
there aren’t any more incidents.”  Clearly finished with them, the doctor spun
around and grabbed a chart off the desk.

Ben
shook his head and pulled Tristan from the ER.  “Let it go, Mabley.  He’s an
arrogant prick, but he’s not worth the paperwork.”

Ben
led the way back to the waiting room, a plan already formulating in his mind
for what they needed to do next.  After they talked to hospital security he
needed to get his hands on Gemma’s cell so he could contact the guy who had
asked her to take the trail ride in the first place and track down that group.

Headed
for the corridor that would lead them to the hospital security office, a man
stepped in his path. 

“I
heard you asking about Gemma.  Is she going to be okay?”  The man’s worried
gaze bounced between Ben and Tristan.

“Who
are you?” Tristan asked, stepping forward.

“Robert
Cassidy.  I was part of the group Gemma took out,” the man replied.

“Can
you tell us what happened, Mr. Cassidy?” Ben asked.  He took stock of the man
before him.  About fifty, the man was fit and several inches shorter than his
own six-foot-three.  Hair more gray than brown anymore was still thick on his
head and cut well.  Lines bracketing the man’s eyes and his dark tan indicated
the man spent a lot of time outside.  His dark brown eyes looked genuinely
worried about Gemma.