after her, but she didn’t fight her desire to flee.
She came to the crossroad and took the turn too fast. She nearly lost control of the flame-red car. If there’d been another vehicle in the oncoming lane she would have crashed. The silver car followed closely behind her. Jayne didn’t dare slow down now. She fed the car more gas. Her police training kicked in. With an effort, she steadied her breathing and concentrated on the skills she’d been taught about high-speed pursuits. Funny. She’d expected to use these skills pursuing the bad guys—not being pursued by them.
She whipped down secondary roads, going deeper and deeper into unfamiliar territory. Her pursuer stayed right on her tail. His skills were obviously every bit as good as hers. Maybe better. He was gaining on her.
Without warning, she rounded a corner and came up on a horse trailer moving sedately along the narrow two-lane road. There was no time to slow down even if she’d wanted to. The shoulder abutted a gully. Her head pounded with fear as she pulled around him in the oncoming lane at eighty miles an hour. She barely squeezed back in before colliding head-on with an SUV heading in the opposite direction.
The sound of her heavy breathing filled the car. Her shoulder began to burn with surprising fire where she’d wrenched it. The baby began crying. Ahead was a major road. In her rearview mirror, she saw the silver car speed past the horse trailer. She’d gained ground, but not nearly enough. His car was faster. There was no choice. She whipped onto the new road amid honking horns and the squeal of brakes—and undoubtedly more than one curse.
She raced dangerously along the more heavily traveled, four-lane road, darting in and out among the cars, even using the shoulder to go around slower vehicles. All the while she prayed for a police car with flashing lights and a blaring siren. Instead, another quick glance in the mirror showed that the silver car was closing on her once again.
Impossible! There had to be a way to lose him.
Directly ahead was another cross street. An eighteen-wheeler hauling heavy bridge joists was in the right lane, lumbering along at a sedate fifty-five miles an hour. Jayne judged the distance. The timing would have to be exactly right or she’d kill both herself and the infant she was trying to protect. She knew she could make it. She also knew the silver car could not.
He was right behind her. She glimpsed his angry, set features in her mirror. With unnatural calm, she again measured the distance, saw there was no traffic on the secondary road, and cut directly in front of the semi at the last second. His horn blared a deep, furious warning as she sailed past and onto the side road, barely maintaining control over her car.
Instantly, Jayne dropped her speed. Something warm and wet ran down her left arm. She ignored it, bypassed the first side road she came to and kept going until she found a second one. The distances between roads became farther apart the longer she drove, but she repeated the process twice more before finding herself on a country lane in the middle of absolute nowhere.
Fences bordered the road indicating ranches or farms. Good. Her pursuer would never find her now. Even she didn’t know where she was. All she had to do was keep driving until she—
A yellow light flashed on her dashboard. Her gaze flicked down and her heart began to pound all over again.
Low gas.
How could she be almost out of gas? What sort of criminals didn’t fill their gas tanks?
Her gaze swept the surrounding countryside but saw nothing more than empty land. There wasn’t a building or a silo to be seen, much less a gas station. Her left arm was not only hurting badly, but her fingers were starting to feel numb.
She glanced down and gasped. Her sleeve was stained a vivid bright red. Blood actually dripped from her wrist, discoloring the steering wheel and her pants. Panic seized her as she realized she was bleeding profusely. She hadn’t wrenched her shoulder. She’d been shot!
The knowledge opened the way for an instant rush of pain. She gasped again and bit her lip to keep from crying out. Now what? This wasn’t a major road leading toward civilization and a doctor or hospital. And it had been a long while since she’d passed any other side roads.
Fear recharged her adrenaline. How badly was she hurt? She needed medical attention, but she couldn’t stop now. While she may have lost the silver car for now, that driver was unlikely to give up. She’d take bets he was even now searching for her along these back roads. And this stupid red car stood out like a beacon.
Jayne prayed that she wasn’t bleeding to death because there was no help for it. She ignored the pain and the blood and kept driving, looking for something familiar. Twice she saw dirt roads that may have led to ranches, but she was reluctant to try them for fear they wouldn’t go anywhere at all. A line shack would be a death trap.
The baby’s soft cries were increasing which only added another level of urgency.
“Easy little one. I’ll get us out of this. Somehow.”
If only she had her purse and her trusty cell phone. She could actually picture the small telephone lying on the floor of her car—along with the rest of the contents she’d spilled from her purse. Her daring rescue wasn’t looking so daring anymore. Where the heck was a cop when you needed one!
The car began to sputter.
Either she pulled off the road or kept driving until the car died right there in the middle of the street. A drainage ditch ran alongside the road, barely leaving a dirt shoulder here. Still, she couldn’t see any other possibilities.
Jayne pulled over and turned off the key.
For a moment she just sat there. The infant’s pitiful cries reminded her that the child was her obligation now. She ran her right hand up along the wet sleeve on her left arm, probing for the source of the injury. Liquid fire. She had to blink back tears.
Giving in to tears and just sitting there while she waited for help was quite tempting, but she hadn’t passed another car in a long time. That meant she was on her own.
Using her right hand, she reached across her body to open the car door. Stepping out, she had to grip the door a moment to keep from falling as a wave of dizziness washed over her.
Not good. Definitely not good. She swallowed hard and forced her panic back. “You can do this!”
She let her left arm dangle uselessly and used her right hand to open the back door where the baby’s cries helped put her own problems on hold.
“With lungs like that, at least I know you aren’t hurt.”
But the baby was wet and probably hungry.
A large green-and-yellow bag sat on the seat beside the infant. She needed two hands to unzip the bag. That caused blood to flow alarmingly down her arm. She bit down on her lip again to keep from crying out and forced her attention to the bag. Inside was everything a new mother might need. A package of six, already prepared bottles, a can of extra formula, a box of newborn diapers, even a couple of tiny outfits.
Jayne didn’t bother investigating the entire contents. It was enough to know she had the basics. Carefully, she pried her blouse away from her injured shoulder so she could inspect her injury. Blood flowed freely from an ugly raw wound that made her sick to look at. The bullet had torn away flesh as it skimmed across the top of her shoulder. If she wasn’t mistaken, that was bone she glimpsed.
She
