Her Risk To Take (7 page)

The man shifted his weight from foot to foot, expression hard, lips drawn. If he attacked her, it would hurt, but Sarah did not move from her position in front of the injured woman. It wasn’t bravery. Sarah had always had people to stand up for her—her parents, her brothers, Cal, heck, even hospital security. This woman had no one. “I suggest you come back around noon and see where we’re at. It’ll give you the chance to finish the Christmas preparations and your wife a chance to rest. I’m sure you wouldn’t want another wasted journey or for Heather to have to be readmitted in a few hours time.”
Not to mention ending up on a murder charge should this defenseless woman die from a brain bleed you caused, you sick mofo.

The man looked foiled. Then he caught sight of his son. He jerked his head. “Henry Junior, come with me. We’ll be back in a few hours and see how your mamma is getting on.” The woman on the bed started to sit upright. Any moment now, she was going to declare herself “fine” and sign herself out of the hospital.

“I asked Henry Junior if he wanted to meet Santa who’s visiting some of the wards today. It’s no bother for him to stay and play with the other children, if that’s okay with you?” Sarah smiled at the little boy. She really should have gone into acting.

“I’ll make sure they are finished by noon, honey.” Heather Henriksson’s voice was so sweet it made Sarah want to puke. “Sorry to mess up your day like this.”

Sarah hid her disgust.
Sorry I need medical attention because you hit a woman half your size so hard your fists bled. And so sorry I broke my ribs on your poor bruised hands.
At least he hadn’t turned his fury on their precious child. God.

Sarah knew the drill. She’d seen it often enough in the past. She wanted to get this woman out of an abusive situation, but the chances of that happening were slim. Women, and sometimes men, were trapped in circumstances and a cycle of abuse. They couldn’t see the way out. Some were too scared to leave. Some didn’t think they deserved help. How a human being believed they deserved such treatment was beyond her. They wouldn’t treat an animal this poorly.

She didn’t get it. She would never get it.

Silence stretched taut. She braced herself. She knew exactly where he’d be spending Christmas if he laid a hand on her, and she relished the thought. Still, she didn’t want to make the situation worse for Heather and the little boy, because chances were they would go home eventually.

He took a step back, checked his watch. Sarah’s shoulders sagged.

“I’ll be back at noon.” He turned his eyes on his wife. “Make sure you’re down here waiting for me.” His tone brooked no refusal. Heather nodded.

Sarah blew out a big breath as he walked away. She turned back to the woman. “I’m going to take Henry Junior to spend a couple hours in the daycare while you have your tests done.” Heather opened her mouth to argue, but Sarah took her hand and squeezed. “He’ll be safe, and he’ll have fun. It’ll be good for him. Trust me.”

The woman finally nodded and Sarah leaned closer. “There are people who can help you, Heather. Places you can go.”

Heather bit her lip, then clutched harder at her hand. “I’m pregnant.”

Sarah almost reared back in shock. “Does he know?”

Heather’s face crumpled, and she started to cry. She nodded. “He was angry about it. Said we can’t afford another mouth to feed.” She gave a wet sniffle. “Will you make sure my baby is okay?”

Tears filled Sarah’s eyes. What was wrong with the world?

It was Christmas. Sarah was determined to make something good happen today. “Okay, Henry Junior. Let’s go see Santa.” She held out her hand and, after a slight hesitation, the little boy took it. She looked at the mom. “I’m sending you for a head CT first, then we’ll see about the baby, all right?”

The woman nodded, but misery dragged at her features. “Be a good boy, Henry Junior.”

Sarah would bet the ranch little Henry Junior was
always
a good boy. It wouldn’t keep him safe though. Eventually those fists would lash out in his direction. If he was lucky, he’d end up like Cal. If he was unlucky, he’d end up dead. And to think she’d been feeling sorry for herself this morning.

What an idiot.

*     *     *

Nat and Eliza
had gone to get groceries to last through next week. Ezra was visiting his new lady friend—apparently even men with no teeth had a better love life than Cal did. And Ryan was checking cattle in one of the upper pastures. The house was empty of people but full of memories. It was the only true home he’d ever known. Cal had fed the horses, written Sarah, Nat, and Ryan a short letter each and put them on the mantel.

He’d thrown his gear in a kit bag and stood looking at the pale blue-gray of the jagged mountains that surrounded them. He was never going to forget this place. Even the air here seemed different. Clean, fresh, brilliant. Cal wouldn’t have considered himself fanciful, but this land held magic—from the eagles soaring over the highest peaks, to the tiny flowers that hid among the damp hemlock groves. He pressed his lips together and gave the ranch dog a last scratch on the neck. The old dog’s back leg started moving in appreciation.

Cal got in the truck and drove away, looking at the L-frame ranch house in the rearview the entire drive out.

It might be better this way, but the idea of leaving ripped out his heart. And it paled beside the idea of not seeing Sarah ever again. She was going to be so upset to get that damned letter. What sort of jerk broke things off with a letter? Especially at Christmas? His fingers gripped the steering wheel. He’d told himself it was better for her if he just walked away, but that was pure cowardice talking. He was too scared to face her. He’d known her for nearly twenty years and loved her so much he felt like he was drowning in it. But Terry’s warning echoed inside his head. The threat was very real.

But sneaking off like a chicken was not going to fly. So rather than turning the wheel left away from town, he turned it right. He needed to look Sarah in the eye when he said goodbye. Tell her exactly why he was going. He didn’t want her to think even for a minute he didn’t love and respect her. Hell, he cared for her more than anyone and would sacrifice every last person on the planet to keep her safe. She didn’t need to know
that
, but she did need to know she deserved better than a bum like him.

The flashing lights took him by surprise. He glanced at his speedometer and realized he’d been so distracted by the idea of going to Sarah, he’d gone ten miles over the speed limit along the straight road that led into town. As Sheriff Talbot climbed out of his cruiser, Cal started laughing. The guy had finally nailed him for something legit. Sonofabitch.

S
arah barely had
time to think following a road traffic accident that brought in three trauma patients, two in critical condition. She’d just sent the third teenager up to x-ray after helping wrap a cast from his wrist to his shoulder, and a matching one on his leg. He was the lucky one.

She grabbed a coffee from the break room and walked over to the desk to see where they were in the war against daily madness. She glanced left and saw Henry Henriksson talking to Sheila Goldstein in the corridor.

Crap
. “Who called Child Services?” Sarah asked Madge. She’d debated and decided to try to talk Heather into filing a police report first. Then she’d forgotten all about them while fighting to save the life of someone’s teenage daughter. She needed a clone.

“Dr. Spencer alerted social services, and they called in Sheila.”

“I want my son back.” Henriksson’s voice rose over the other patients’. “And I want my wife down here, right now.” He looked up and caught Sarah’s eye. “You lied to me, bitch.” His gaze narrowed into pure hatred, and her heart knocked against her ribs. People glanced toward her nervously. Then security stepped in with Sheila trying to explain protocol to the enraged man. He flung off the hands of the security personnel, turned on his heel, and strode outside.

Madge put her palm on her chest. “Lord have mercy, I thought he was about to lose his shit right here.”

She nodded. “Me too. Who’s next?” Some people had been here for hours. She went through charts with Madge, trying to figure out who needed her most.

There was a strange ratcheting noise at the entrance. When Sarah looked across to the front door, every drop of blood drained from her head. Henriksson had come back inside, only this time he was carrying an assault rifle.

Sarah didn’t think. She ran. She had to find Henriksson’s wife and son before he did. She ran around the corner and heard gunfire as she dove into the elevator and slapped the button. A bullet dinged the metal interior just as the door closed. The guy had stepped over a line he could never come back from. She headed to level three even though Heather Henriksson was on four. She silently apologized to everyone on that floor as she got off and shouted to the staff, “Armed intruder! Lock this floor down immediately!”

She hit the stairs and started pounding the concrete steps. She burst onto the fourth floor and fled along the corridor, shouting the same message. People scattered and started shutting down the elevator and securing fire doors, getting patients back to their beds and barricading themselves inside. Sarah ran into the room where they conducted the CT scans.

“Where’s Heather Henriksson?” she asked.

The technician climbed uncertainly to her feet. “She left. Said she was going to get her son and go home.”

A wave of terror shot through her. Oh, God. The daycare. She had to make sure the children were safe. But the alarm had been raised, and they would shut the place down. She knew that, but it didn’t make her worry any less. She grabbed her phone out of her pocket, texted Nat to get to Tabitha ASAP. He’d called earlier to say he and Eliza were in town. She stood there panting. Okay—think rationally for a moment. Doors into the wards were locked. The guy might be trapped inside the elevator for all she knew. The cops would be here soon, and Mr. Henriksson would be detained.

Reilly Spencer came running out of his office. It looked as if he’d been catching a quick nap. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“That guy you called social services on?” The sound of gunfire permeated the air again, sending a quiver of fear through her bones. “Let’s just say he wasn’t very happy about it.”

Spencer’s eyes widened. “Oh, shit. The place is secure, right?”

Sarah breathed out a lungful of terror. “As locked down as a place this size can be.”

Then her heart started hammering as a noise that could only be the service elevator started to rumble. She grabbed keys from the nurse’s desk and ran for the fire exit. “Get into your offices and lock the doors.” She undid the fire door, which the staff had secured.

“What are you going to do?” Spencer asked, hovering uncertainly.

Her hands shook as she got the door open. “Draw him away from patients. I’m the one who spoke to him this morning, and he’s blaming me for getting social services involved. I promised him his wife would be ready to go at noon, and he thinks I set this whole thing up.” Spencer ran toward her. There was no time to argue with him as the service elevator opened and out stepped Henry Henriksson. His eyes found her, and he raised the rifle to his eye just as Dr. Spencer slid through the open fire door and Sarah slammed it shut behind him. They both started running.

“Why are we going up?” Spencer demanded, breathing heavily.

“You’re going to warn the pediatric ward and make sure they are barricaded inside. I’m going to the roof and down the fire escape ladder. Then I’ll head to the daycare. I need to find Henriksson’s wife and son.” And Tabitha.

What sort of world did they live in where a man could beat his wife, then threaten anyone who objected with a gun? The echo of footsteps below them had them running faster.

*     *     *

Cal handed over
his insurance and registration.

Talbot was grinning at him like a man who’d won a full million on the lottery.

“Surely you have better things to do on Christmas Eve?” Cal asked the guy.

“Despite what you may think, I don’t sit around waiting for you to screw up, Landon.” The sheriff’s expression grew grim. “There was an accident on the sixty-eight, and I was just heading back to town when I saw someone speeding. Not my fault you were breaking the law.”

“Was the accident bad?” Cal asked. Shit. What a thing to happen on Christmas Eve.

The sheriff looked down at his feet. “Three teenagers driving too fast, ran off the road and rolled a bunch of times.” He hitched up his equipment belt.

Cal winced. The guy was a dick, but Cal didn’t envy him his job. “Well, I hope they’re okay.”

The radio went off, and the sheriff froze in the act of writing out his ticket. He reached down. “Repeat dispatch.”

Cal heard “man with a gun” and “shots fired” and then the location, “County Hospital.” A very bad feeling came over him.

“Ten-four. I’m en route.” Talbot threw Cal’s documents back at him through the open window. “Consider this a warning.” He jogged back to his car, put on the sirens and cherry lights, and took off.