Somewhere Along the Way (40 page)

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Brandon yelled. “If it wasn’t for me we’d be stuck in the ditch you drove us right into a half hour ago.”

“Me? I might have been driving, but you were the one who yelled, ‘Turn.’ Next time you might think about giving me a direction. I’m not a mind reader, you know.”

“No, you’re not. You got to have a mind first. You’ve landed on your head one too many times in that rodeo dirt, Preacher. You drive about like you ride. Every eight seconds or so you’re plowing into the dirt.”

“Well, at least I’m not the stop sign at road construction. How’s that working out for you? Job has a lot of turns to it. Stop. Go. Stop. Go.”

“I’m getting paid!” Brandon shouted. “Unlike you. You’re hauling shit on your daddy’s ranch and not making a dime.”

Reagan burst out laughing. She hurt all over. She’d just been frightened almost out of her mind and frozen, but the sound of her two best friends yelling at each other was music to her ears.

The two guys stopped and stared, but she couldn’t stop laughing.

Finally, Brandon sounded worried as he whispered, “You think she cracked up, Preacher?”

Noah shook his head. “I don’t know, maybe you’re right. We’d better get her to the hospital fast.”

The sound of them panicking made her laugh harder. She didn’t calm until Brandon carried her into the emergency room. “Take me to see my uncle first,” she said, suddenly sobering.

The emergency room was quiet. A tired nurse met them halfway across the waiting room. “Tyler Wright called and said you two would be bringing her in. She can see her uncle later. Right now we need to check her wounds.”

“No,” Reagan said. “I’ll see him first.”

The nurse looked like she might argue.

Noah stepped between the nurse and Reagan. “She’s got to see him first. One look and then we’ll bring her back down here. A marshal told us she had a field dressing on her foot that would last a while.”

While Noah talked, Brandon was already moving, following Reagan’s directions. When he broke from the nurse, Noah had to run to catch up.

The nurse watched the three of them storm toward the ICU. A minute ago they’d been children. Tonight, they were adults.

A doctor met them when they reached the ICU doors. “He’s still resting,” the doctor said as he directed them down another hallway where the walls were glass. “Don’t try to wake him.”

Reagan nodded.

Brandon carried her in and she looked at the frail old man who’d claimed her as family when no one else would.

Liz Matheson was asleep in the chair next to him.

“He’s resting easy,” the doctor whispered, “but he’s not out of danger. Miss Matheson insisted on staying with him. When I told her to wait in the waiting room, she threatened to sue me.”

Reagan laid her fingers on top of Jeremiah’s veined hand. Just to feel its warmth was enough. He was alive. Her worst fear hadn’t happened. He wouldn’t have to die alone. Whether he lived a few hours or a few more years, she planned to be by his side. They were family, if not by blood, then in spirit, and Trumans didn’t die easily.

“Did you have a fall, miss?” the doctor asked.

“Yes,” she said simply as she nodded for Brandon to carry her away. “I tripped and fell into hell, but my friends came after me.”

They went back down to emergency and Reagan didn’t say a word as they took her to have X-rays. It took over an hour to reset the leg. Her foot had eight stitches and bruises were coming to the surface all over her body, but she didn’t care. She’d learned something tonight that she knew she would carry with her the rest of her life.

She had friends close as family. Friends who would come out in a snowstorm to find her.

SATURDAY, 1:10 A.M.
FEBRUARY 23, 2008
BUFFALO’S BAR AND GRILL

GABE TOOK THE DOOR GUARD WHILE THE OTHER TWO stepped into Buffalo’s Bar. If Lloyd ran, he wouldn’t make it past this point.

The place looked like it was closed except for two men near the back so drunk they were half lying on the table. The bartender, or probably owner, was working at his computer at the corner of the bar. He was a bear of a man who had hands so beefy Gabe was surprised he could fit them to a keyboard.

The owner/bartender looked up when he saw the sheriff and raised one eyebrow.

“I’m not serving anything but coffee,” he yelled at the sheriff. “They bought their bottle before closing and I figured they were safer drinking here than on the road.”

Alex waved him away. “We’re here to take them somewhere warm to sleep it off.”

The bartender nodded and motioned them on. He disappeared into the back a moment later, wanting no part of what he knew was about to happen.

Denver moved in a circle, coming up behind the two Franklin boys while Alex walked right up to the table and widened her stance.

Lloyd looked up and seemed to be trying to get his eyes to adjust enough to recognize the sheriff coming toward him. Gabe saw him jerk the moment he figured her out.

“Hi, Sheriff,” he said loudly, as though the bar were still full of people. “Good to see you. What’s been happening tonight?” He poked his brother, but Donnie seemed to be out cold. “We’ve been sitting in here all evening drinking and waiting for my wife to get off work.”

“It’s late” Alex said calmly. “Time for you boys to call it a night. How about you come with me over to the station? I’d like to have a little talk with you over coffee. I’ve even called a car for you.”

“No, I don’t think so.” Lloyd tried to stand, but his alibi seemed to be making the room spin. “I think I’ll just go home.”

Alex smiled. “You’re both going with me.”

Even drunk, he bulled up and would have stomped the ground if he’d thought it might frighten her. “I’m not going with—”

Denver stepped in and ended the debate. He jerked one arm behind Lloyd and shoved the man’s face into the spilt beer on the table. “The sheriff asked you to come along.”

Lloyd struggled and Denver twisted his arm higher. When he yelled and stopped fighting, Alex slipped the cuffs on.

“Those are too tight!” he yelled, finally waking his brother. “You can’t treat me like this.”

“I didn’t bring the key.” Alex pointed for Donnie to head to the door. He didn’t hesitate. He raised his hands in surrender and walked right over to Gabe.

“I have my rights!” Lloyd shouted. “You can’t just walk in and arrest innocent people. Don’t you have to tell me what you think I did? Don’t you have to read me my rights?”

“I don’t even want to talk to you.” Alex shoved him toward the door. “If you keep talking, we’ll be walking the block to the jail.” She watched as Denver patted Lloyd down and removed the gun at the back of his belt. “Ready, Marshal?” she asked.

“Ready, Sheriff.”

“I don’t have my coat,” Lloyd complained. “I can’t go outside without my coat. It’s freezing out there.”

Denver shoved him from behind. “We can’t find it. Keep moving. It’s stopped snowing anyway. Way I see it, we’re in a heat wave right now.”

They marched the Franklin brothers out and put them in the deputy’s cruiser. “We got here as fast as we could, Sheriff,” one of the deputies said, “but I see you have it all wrapped up for us.”

“I had help,” she answered.

Gabe heard one of the two deputies reading the Franklin boys their rights as they drove away.

Alex turned to Gabe and Denver. “Thank you,” she said simply. “If there is anything I can ever do. ...”

Denver held up his hand. “One favor. Drive us to Gabe’s Rover. I’ve been down in the creek bed enough for a lifetime. We need to check on Reagan, and my friend left his girl at the hospital. Soon as we know she’s fine, I’m heading for the nearest shower.”

“You got it.”

They didn’t talk much on the way to pick up Gabe’s car, except about the weather. The storm was over and the sun would melt away the snow on the streets in a few days. Gabe thought of the times he’d been in battles and how peaceful the world seemed afterward. Harmony had never seemed as peaceful as it did right now.

They said good-bye to Alex and headed toward the emergency room.

“Lieutenant,” Gabe began once they were alone. “I remembered something about that day I got hit by the bomb five years ago. I remember the last thing I saw.”

“Yeah, what?”

“I think I know who set it up or at least who was in on it. I remember seeing the driver’s eyes. There was no surprise at the attack. He knew what was going down. I’d stake my life on it.”

Denver shook his head. “Not knowing may be the one thing keeping you alive, Wiseman.”

Gabe stared at Denver. A part of each of them would always be back in the war zone. No matter how long they lived, Denver would always be his lieutenant and he’d always be Wiseman. The bond between them would never break. In a strange way it seemed stronger than blood.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Denver said, pointing with a nod of his head toward Brandon and Noah sitting outside the emergency waiting room. “One thing at a time.”

It was obvious from their body language that the two eighteen-year-olds weren’t speaking to each other. But, Gabe thought, they weren’t yelling either, so he saw that as progress. “Where’s Reagan?”

“She’s in the waiting room by ICU,” Noah said. “The doc made her leave while they’re examining the old man.”

“How’s her uncle?”

Brandon shrugged. “He’s probably a hundred years old and he’s had a heart attack, how do you think he is?”

Gabe had to hold Denver back. The lieutenant hated a smart mouth. “Wait a minute, if she’s upstairs why are you two down here?”

Brandon pouted. “Take a wild guess how many women are in that little waiting room with her.”

“Why don’t you just tell me?”

Noah did the countdown. “Liz, she’s been here all night. She called her great-aunts. It seems one of them used to date Jeremiah and got so upset that he might be dying before they made up that she made Claire, the crazy artist, drive her over. The other old aunt came along to chaperone the two former lovers, I guess, which wouldn’t have been so bad, but Martha Q and Brandon’s grandmother showed up with muffins because they baked them and no one came over to eat them. It’s a regular gray-hair convention.”

“She’s not my grandmother,” Brandon added.

Noah fired up. “Like I told you before, Bran, just because you don’t recognize her doesn’t mean she’s not. If she’s your father’s mother, she’s your grandmother. There’s no
maybe
about it.”

Gabe saw that the two were a hair away from a fight. The fact that neither had probably had any sleep in over twenty-four hours didn’t help, or that they’d been worried about Reagan. If he thought about it, he’d guess both were in love with the kid. If she didn’t pick between them, the two could be fighting over her for years.

“Any chance Granny brought coffee?”

“No,” Noah said. “And the machine only takes one-dollar bills.”

Gabe pulled out a half dozen ones he always carried. “Noah, mind getting us all a cup? I really need to talk to Liz.”

“Yeah, Preacher, go get us all some coffee.”

Denver reached past Gabe and pulled Brandon, all two hundred pounds of him, out of the chair. “How about you help him?” Denver asked, his teeth clenched together.

Brandon was smart enough not to argue. He almost ran to catch up to Noah.

Gabe heard him whisper, “I don’t know about this fireman gig. One minute you’re the hero and the next you’re the mule.”

“Tell me about it,” Noah answered. “I not only get ordered around by Hank at the station, my sister comes over and yells at me just to make sure I’m listening to him.”

Gabe turned to Denver. “You think they’ll make it back with four cups of coffee?”

“It’s a long shot.”

They moved to the ICU room and looked in. Brandon was right, it did look like a convention.

Denver pushed Gabe forward as he whispered, “Did you ever notice, when there are five women together three of them are talking? How does that compute?”

Aunt Pat was crying; her sister was trying to console her. Martha Q was generally running down the male side of the human race, and Claire was staring out the window, looking bored as always. Mrs. Biggs circled the room, asking everyone if they wanted a muffin.

“I’m not going in there,” Denver said as he took a seat in the hallway.

“Chicken.” Gabe laughed, and stepped into the waiting room.

Only Mrs. Biggs paid him any attention. She offered him a muffin and asked if he’d seen Brandon.

“He’ll be here in a minute.” He tried to ignore her worried look. “Have any idea where Elizabeth is?”

“She was with Reagan. The doctor decided to check Reagan in a room down the hall. I think he knew the girl wouldn’t go home, and now at least she can rest between visits. Liz said that as soon as she got the girl tucked in, she planned to run back to her place and pick up a few clothes for Reagan. She didn’t want Jeremiah seeing his niece with blood all over her clothes.”

“How’s the old man doing?”

“He’s slipping.” Mrs. Biggs shook her head. “I’ve been with two husbands when they died. There are signs most folks don’t notice. Signs that tell someone watching that the person is passing. Funny, most folks don’t die all at once; they slip away a little at a time.”