Sniper Fire (Love in the Crosshairs) (25 page)

She sighed quietly, barely keeping it from turning into a sob. A soldier. Dear Lord, she never thought she’d end up with one of those in a million years. But that’s what Kyle was, with or without the uniform. A soldier, a fighter, a protector. Someone she could always depend on.

A spate of loud cussing echoed off the mountain. Farrah peeked out in time to see Craddoc wrestling with a blackberry bush. The sight almost made her smile until she saw Kyle rising up from his hiding place a few feet away. He had a sturdy limb in his hand and used it as a crutch until he was within reach of Craddoc. Farrah’s heart stuttered when the felon swung in Kyle’s direction, gun in his hand. Kyle whacked the limb against Craddoc’s arm in an underhand swing, forcing it up just as the gun went off. Farrah jammed her fist in her mouth to keep from screaming. She wanted to run out and help, but knew she’d only be in the way. Still, she couldn’t take her eyes away as Kyle tackled the other man, taking him to the ground.

They wrestled, rolling back and forth over the un-even ground, both men trying to take possession of the gun. Kyle’s fist rose, once, twice, catching Craddoc with solid blows.

Suddenly the gun was gone, lost somewhere in the dry leaves of the forest floor. Craddoc shoved Kyle away and surged to his feet. He lifted a stick above his head like a bat and swung. Farrah did cry out then. The stick was Kyle’s cane, and she knew how heavy it was. Kyle rolled, dodging the first blow, and came up with the limb he’d charged in with to block the second. The limb broke in two with an echoing crack on impact. Kyle used the smaller half to fend off a third blow while shoving the longer piece between Craddoc’s ankles. He twisted the limb, trying to trip Craddoc. The felon stumbled, did a little hopping dance, but managed to keep his feet with the help of the cane. Kyle used the time to pull himself up. He lunged at Craddoc before he could bring the cane to bear again. With a hard left punch, he slammed his fist into the other man’s stomach. Craddoc coughed and doubled over, dropping the cane.

Kyle hesitated. Farrah didn’t understand why until he moved again. With a wordless cry, she reached out to stop him, but there was nothing she could do. Kyle planted his good leg on the ground and brought his injured leg up, his whole weight behind his bent knee. Farrah cringed as Kyle’s weakened joint connected with Craddoc’s face, the crack of bone louder than the limb breaking. Craddoc went down in a spray of blood.

Kyle went down, too, roaring in pain.

Farrah dashed out, needing to reach Kyle. Before she could get there, Craddoc rolled unsteadily to his knees, blood streaming from his broken nose. Silver gleamed in his hand. Somehow, he’d found the gun and was aiming it at Kyle. Farrah didn’t think. She scooped up Kyle’s cane and swung it with all her strength. The impact of the silver knob handle against Craddoc’s temple vibrated up her arm. The dull sound of crunching bone was all but drowned out by the last gunshot, the bullet going wide into the trees. Craddoc flopped over and didn’t move.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl for Farrah as she stared down at the man she was afraid she’d just killed. She’d never struck anyone before in her life. Not for real, not in fear or desperation. Not in anger. She’d felt all of that and more when she thought she was about to lose Kyle. It only took her a single glace at him to realize she’d do it again in a heartbeat. Her fist tightened on the cane. If Craddoc moved, she’d definitely hit him again to protect the man she loved. She held onto the cane as she hurried to Kyle, trying not to look at the blood on the silvery round end.

“Is he out? Is he dead?” Kyle yelled, still rocking on the ground, both hands squeezing his thigh just above the brace, as if trying to hold the pain at bay. Farrah glanced at Craddoc. She didn’t want to go near him. If he wasn’t dead, she knew a part of her would feel some kind of obligation to try and save him, and right now, she didn’t want to do that. He’d tried to take Kyle’s life…and hers. He didn’t deserve her mercy.

“He’s dead,” she told him, hoping it was true.

“Good,” Kyle gasped.

“Here, let me see.” She moved his hands enough to get a good look at his rapidly swelling knee. “You can’t walk on this.”

He gave a rusty chuckle. “Tell me something I don’t already know.” He reached over and took her hand. “We’ll take the river. It’s the only way.” He tried to sit up and groaned. Farrah eased him back down. Carefully, afraid of hurting him, she examined his leg more closely. Immediately she started loosening the buckles of his brace. He batted at her hands. “Leave it on.”

“Trust me, I’m not taking it off. You can’t see it, Kyle, but you’re knee is swelling by the second. I’m just loosening the straps so they don’t cut into your flesh. We need to find a way to lock the brace in place to keep your leg straight.”

Lips pressed tight together, he draped an arm over his eyes. “You know what this means, right? You have to go for help by yourself, Farrah. You can do that, right? I’ll wait in the bear den while you go get us some help. I can drag myself that far.”

“Uh-huh. And my nose is as good as yours, Kyle Fagan. I can smell that fire getting closer.” Worse yet, she could see it. She looked up and across the river. The flames weren’t actually in sight, but judging by the thickness of the smoke rolling down the slope, they weren’t far behind. She looked back at Kyle. “You’re just trying to get me to run to safety without you. Even if I weren’t a doctor, that’s not going to happen.”

“Farrah—”

“Don’t
Farrah
, me.” She carefully refastened the buckles of the brace, wincing in sympathy at the pained noises he made in the back of his throat when she snugged them down. When she was done, she moved his arm and brushed the sweat off his forehead, picking a few leaves out of his dark hair. “I’m not leaving you here to die. We’ll take the river, just like you said. I’ll help you get there. You and I have things to talk about and I’m not letting you off that easy. Besides, I can’t see you leaving me here if the situation was reversed.”

“Not a chance in hell.”

“See, I knew you were my hero.”

He shook his head. “Don’t try hanging a halo on me, honey, it’ll just fall off.”

She met his gaze, the pain in his eyes making her ache to make him better. All she had to give him was a smile. “You saved me from Craddoc, Kyle. That makes you a hero whether you like it or not. A hero’s halo might slip a little now and then, but it’s always there.”

He tried to move again, wincing as the pain hit him. “Well, I’d trade that halo, my cane, and one used brace for a nice ATV right now.”

“Hello!” “Anyone there?”

The shouts had them both looking up. Coming through the woods at a trot were three men dressed in fire-fighting gear.

“Hello,” one of the men said again. “We thought we heard a gunshot.”

Kyle pointed a hand a Craddoc. “Escaped criminal. Carjacked us.”

The fireman bent down to examine Craddoc. “Huh. Dead escaped criminal. I recognize him from the flyer they’ve been passing around.” He stood and held a hand out to Farrah. “I’m Phil Webster, by the way.” He looked around. “There’s no road around here that I’m aware of. Where’s your vehicle?”

Farrah pointed this time. “His truck is still up there somewhere, I guess.”

“Damn, man, that’s tough,” one of the other firemen said. “It’s gone for sure. That fire is moving fast.”

“Right,” Phil said. “We need to get you folks out of here.”

Farrah pointed at Kyle’s leg. “He can’t walk. His knee is busted. Can you help me apply a splint over the brace to make it more stable?”

One of the men slipped a huge pack off his back and began rummaging inside.

“Tyler here will fix him right up,” Phil assured them. He motioned to her scrubs. “Are you medical?”

“Yes, sorry. I’m Dr. Farrah Hastings.”

His eyes widened. “Great! We were told to keep an eye out for you. And this must be Kyle Fagan. Sheriff Penwell will be glad to hear from you guys. He was worried. Soon as Tyler has your friend’s leg splinted we’ll get you both over to our truck.” He pointed at the third man. “Carp, hike on back to the truck for the stretcher. Radio in while you’re there and tell them we found the doc and Fagan. We need a chopper for a medical evac. And make it snappy. I don’t feel like getting singed today.”

“Will do.” Carp left at a dead run.

“Don’t worry,” Phil said, coming to stand by Kyle as Tyler helped Farrah apply the splint. “Carp runs cross-country marathons. He’ll be back before you know it.”

Hardly a minute later, a wave of hot smoke rolled over them. Farrah coughed and looked back up the mountain. Flames could be seen now, licking the tops of trees. The crackle of the fire was loud enough to be heard. Even as she watched, the fire flared and jumped, pushed along by a self-generating wind. Phil swore.

“Sorry, Mr. Fagan, looks like you’ll have to go out the old fashioned way. No time to wait for the stretcher.”

Farrah coughed again as she hurriedly finished tying off the splint. As soon as she was finished, Phil squatted down next to Kyle. “All right, up you go.”

Kyle bit off a yell as Phil hauled him up over his shoulder.

Farrah put out a hand. “Wait, what about Craddoc’s body?”

“We’ll have to leave it.”

Kyle grunted. “Justice. He was going to do the same to me, only I was still alive.”

Justice indeed, Farrah thought, walking past Craddoc’s body without a second glance.

They met up with Carp after only a few dozen yards and transferred Kyle to the stretcher. Even then, she could tell the pain was getting to him. By the time they reached the truck, he was unconscious. Farrah was glad. The ride in the helicopter to the hospital was nearly as bad as the one she remembered in Egypt. Turbulence kept them bouncing like a truck over a washboard road. She breathed a sigh of relief when they finally touched down on the helipad.

Now all she had to do was get her man back on his feet. Both of them.

Chapter Fifteen

Kyle blinked his eyes open. Hospital room. That was good. That meant he and Farrah had made it back. He tried wiggling his toes. Left ones worked fine. Right ones worked, but damn if he wanted to wiggle them again anytime soon. He looked down where his right leg lay under the covers. The bulk under the sheet was actually re-assuring even though it was half again as big as the left one. Damn, he’d really done it this time. At least he still had a leg, though. Half way to the firemen’s truck, he’d expected to wake up to nothing but empty space on that side.

“Hey, good to see you awake.” The gruff voice drew his gaze to the other side of the bed. Sheriff Dan Penwell sat slouched in a chair, looking decidedly rough around the edges. There were dark circles under his eyes and at least three days growth of whiskers on his face. His uniform was rumpled, though the Sheriff badge still shone a bright silver.

Kyle cleared his throat. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting to take your statement.”

“About?”

“Craddoc.”

“Oh, that.” Kyle closed his eyes and heaved a sigh. Might as well get it over with. “Craddoc ambushed us. Kidnapped Farrah. Shot me.” He could feel the dull throb beneath the bandage across his shoulders. “I ambushed him back. Took Farrah back. He shot Farrah.” His body still went cold at how close he’d come to losing her. “He chased us. We fought. He’s dead and we’re not.” He opened his eyes again, his suddenly racing heart giving the monitor attached to him fits. He looked over to find the Sheriff with a pen in one hand and a little notebook in the other. “Farrah’s okay, right? She was only grazed.”

The Sheriff waved the hand holding the pen. “She’s fine, she’s fine. Said to tell you she had to go back to her clinic.” He scribbled a bit more in the notebook before looking up. “I noticed you didn’t say who actually killed Craddoc.”

“Does it matter? He tried to kill us both.” Kyle forced himself to relax back against the pillow, willing his heart to slow down. Farrah was okay. Apparently okay enough to go back to work. He tried to ignore the little stab of hurt that caused. Couldn’t she even bother to wait around ’til he woke up?

“’fraid it does. There’s a reward, you know.”

He glanced at Pen who was suddenly standing by his bed. “What?”

“A reward for Craddoc. Nashville PD posted it two days ago. Now personally I don’t care who ended the scumbag.” He tapped his left arm. “He shot me, too, if you’ll recall. NPD isn’t going to be so apathetic.”

“Apathetic?”

“Indifferent, then. They’re going to want specifics.”

“What did Farrah say?” Would she have admitted to killing the criminal? Damn, it was probably going to give her nightmares for months to come.

“Oh, she admits to killing him all right. If anyone were to ask me, I’d say she’s almost proud of it.”

“What?” That didn’t make sense. Not for Farrah.

Penwell grinned. “She said Craddoc was going to shoot you and she wasn’t having that. Said it with a straight face, too. Can you imagine?”

No, he couldn’t. Not at the moment. And especially not without seeing her for himself. Damn it, where the hell was she?

“So, you corroborating her story?”

“Yeah,” Kyle said. He waved a hand in the direction of his knee. “I’d just cracked my knee to pieces on Craddoc’s face and was on the ground. Craddoc found his gun and would have shot me if not for Farrah.” He literally owed her his life.

“Good,” Penwell said, patting his shoulder. “Now I can go home and get some rest.” He started to turn away, then paused. “Oh, by the way. You have any idea what you’re going to do when you get out of here?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, work. Have you given any thought to what you might do?”

“Work?” What kind of work would a one-legged man be good at?

Penwell chuckled and shook his head. “Guess you’re still a little doped up. Doc said you might not be tracking real good when you woke up. Yes, I’m talking about work. Doing something with your hands and brain besides twiddling your thumbs all day. Cause if you’re looking for something to do, Gene Anderson is retiring next week and moving to Kentucky. His garage is up for sale if you’re interested. Only reason I mention it is because I got real good reports on you from the firefighters. They said they never worked with a better mechanic. Don’t be surprised if you start getting calls from people wanting you to work on their cars. Anyway, you might want to think about it. I can tell Gene you’re interested if you want. Sure he’ll wait till you get out to close the deal. We definitely need that garage to stay open, it’s the only one in town. You get some rest, now, okay? Doc’ll be by later to check on you.” With that, he was gone.