cold. Of course the fever didn’t help. Squinting, she fought sleep even though she wanted nothing more than to curl up and sink into oblivion.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t do that. She had to stay awake, keep her eyes peeled. Stay alert. He would be waiting for her to show weakness, catch her off guard.
But she’d been so careful.
She reached down and patted the small bulge in the lower part of her jeans. The reassuring feel of the wad of cash soothed some of her anxiety.
She looked around again and another tremor shook her as the faces blended, merged, then separated. Abby blinked fast to clear her vision.
Yes, she’d been careful.
At least she thought she had. But what if she hadn’t been? What if her paranoia wasn’t fever-induced? After all, what did she know about running from someone who caught criminals for a living? Not that she was a criminal, but the process was the same wasn’t it?
Visions of her brother-in-law’s stony glare as Abby clutched her dead sister’s hand stumbled to the forefront of her brain.
Her sister and baby girl … dead because of Abby …
Grief racked her. “My fault.”
“Here, darling. Here’s your water.”
Abby felt liquid slip between her lips to cool her fiery throat. “Thanks,” she whispered.
“What’s your name?”
“Abby.”
“Well, Abby, I’m Justine McIvers and I think we need to get you to a doctor. Are you meeting someone here?”
“No, I’m alone. But I’ll be all right.” The water did seemed to revive her a bit. She took another swallow and nearly cried at the pain the action caused.
Then her eyes fell on a man behind the woman and she gasped, shoved aside the water and lurched to her feet. She stumbled, got her balance, then fell headlong into a hard chest.
Strong hands grasped her upper arms. “Whoa, there, little lady. What’s going on?” The deep bass voice rumbled in her ear.
“She’s very sick, Cal,” the woman behind her said. “I think she needs an ambulance.”
“No, please,” Abby gasped. “No, no ambulance, no hospitals.”
The darkness started closing in and she fought it. She couldn’t pass out! Not now. He was here! He’d found her. She looked again and didn’t see him.
Or was he just a hallucination?
Panicked, she looked up into the blue eyes of the man who kept her from landing face-first on the floor at his feet. “Don’t let him get me.”
And then she lost the battle as blackness coated her.
Deputy Sheriff Callum McIvers held the sick woman against him, his eyes scanning the gawking crowd. Who was she afraid of?
Don’t let him get me. Her words echoed in his ears.
Who? In a town the size of Rose Mountain, Cal prided himself on knowing just about every resident by name.
Except during the holiday season. Christmas was right around the corner, and every day the bus brought more strangers to town than he could count.
Even through both of their heavy winter coats, he could feel the heat from the fever emanating from the woman who’d just passed out.
Trained as a first responder, he acted quickly. Doing a preliminary check, he was relieved to find a strong pulse. However, her breathing seemed labored. Probably from the congestion in her chest.
Cal looked up at his mother, whose concern was etched on her normally smooth forehead. He said, “We need to get her to a doctor. She’s burning up.”
“She said it was the flu and possibly strep.”
Cal frowned. “Call Dylan and have him meet me at the house. She’s obviously afraid of someone, so I guess I won’t take her to the hospital if she doesn’t need to go. If she’s running from someone, her illness could be a combination of exhaustion and whatever bug she’s picked up.”
“You’re taking her home? To your house?” Surprise lit his mother’s eyes as Cal picked the woman up in his arms and ignored the crowd that had gathered to watch the drama play out.
“Well, maybe not to my house. Yours isn’t a very good idea with you promising to watch Tiffany this week. We sure don’t want her to come down with whatever this woman’s got.” Tiffany was the five-year-old granddaughter of his foreman, Zane Dodson. Zane’s daughter, a single mother and a doctor, had volunteered to go to Haiti for a week on a mission trip. Zane was excited about having the little girl nearby, but the thought of caring for her by himself had terrified him. Cal’s mother had stepped in and volunteered to help babysit.
Cal said, “What about Fiona’s? I don’t want to expose Fiona to her, though. What do you think?”
“If we take her to Fiona’s, she can have the apartment in the basement. I can come over and check on her, bring her food or whatever until she’s past the contagious stage.”
Cal nodded. “Sounds like a plan. I’ve got the car outside. Do you have Dylan’s number?”
“Sure. And I’ve got her purse, too. Let’s go.”
Cal carried her out, doing his best to shield her from the cold wind blowing off the mountain.
As he settled the unconscious woman into the backseat, his mother climbed in the front. “Dylan said to bring her by his office, it’s quicker. He’s already shut down for the day and happened to be there working on some files. He can see her right away.”
“Excellent.”
Once more, Cal checked her pulse. Still strong.
“I don’t know if she had a bag other than her purse or not.”
Cal grunted as he worked the seat belt around her. “I’ll call Joe and tell him to hold it if a strange bag shows up with no one to claim it.”
Joe was the bus transit director and one of Cal’s good friends.
Cal climbed into the front seat and started the engine. Five minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot of Dylan Seabrook’s medical practice. A quick scan of the road behind him showed no cars, no one following. But the fear on the woman’s face just before she passed out stayed with him.
Gathering the sick woman in his arms, he headed for the door. Dylan swung it open. “I was watching for you. Bring her on down here.”
Cal followed Dylan down the hall to an empty room. As gently as possible, he settled her on the examination table and looked at Dylan. “We’ll be right outside.”
Dylan took over as Cal took his mother’s hand and pulled her from the room.
His
