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Raising her head cautiously, she watched them peruse the parking lot before striding toward the eager couple. Then she remembered she was supposed to be filming the exchange. The baby must still be inside the red car. From her angle, she could just barely make out a car seat jutting up in the rear seat closest to her.
This really was it! She’d done it! They were going to make the exchange right here in front of her!
Jayne reached for the video camera, shaking with excitement. When she turned back, guns had appeared in both beefy hands. The couple looked horrified. Jayne’s own pulses leaped. The man was shaking his head, arguing, while the bigger of the two thug-types was staring at something beyond Jayne and to the left of her position.
Before she could twist around to follow that gaze, she saw the muzzle flash as his gun discharged. Something had gone horribly wrong.
The woman screamed. The man with her shoved her back toward their car. The other two men crouched down and fired again. Someone was shooting back and the car with the baby in it was right in the path of the bullets!
The couple fled toward their vehicle. Jayne dropped the video camera and opened her door. She had to get the baby to safety. If the men made it back to their car, God alone knew what would happen to the child. She could at least prevent them from taking it away.
Jayne flinched at the popping sound the guns made as she ran forward. Beside the car seat, the door was locked, but she glimpsed the infant sound asleep inside. It was so tiny it must have just been born. Any hesitation she had was gone. She must rescue the baby.
One of the thugs noticed her. He aimed his gun right at her. Jayne ducked and wrenched her shoulder opening the driver’s side door. Keys dangled invitingly from the ignition. She seized the easy opportunity to get the baby out of the way and prevent the men from escaping at the same time. She slid inside and started the engine, but she had to stretch to reach the pedals with her toes. The driver was a lot taller than she was.
The big man lunged toward the car. Her fingers clicked on the automatic lock a split second before he grabbed the handle trying to get inside. He reached into the open window, and grabbed a handful of hair and the front of an earring before Jayne threw the car in gear. The man swore and brought up his gun. Using the tip of her shoes on the gas pedal, she pulled out of the parking space with a jerk. A shot whizzed right past her head and exited the driver’s side window. Another man suddenly sprang out from between parked cars. He also aimed a gun at her.
The baby-nappers had brought backup!
Jayne hunched down behind the steering wheel and pushed down on the gas. The man fired right before he leaped out of her way. The windshield cracked as a hole appeared.
Quaking from head to toe, Jayne stayed as low as possible and tore out of the parking lot. The fiery red car nearly careened into an oncoming pickup truck. Avoiding the other vehicle forced her to turn right instead of left into town.
Her body trembled in reaction while her heart threatened to explode. She tore away from the scene with a squeal of tires. Shaken, but also giddy with her amazing success, she pushed the speed as fast as she dared. She had disrupted the exchange. She had saved the baby from being sold!
Unfortunately, she was speeding down the two-lane road away from town. She needed to get the car turned around so she could drive the baby into Bitterwater and the police station there. Her brother was going to have a cow!
Only, even scrunched down like this she could barely reach the pedals. She was going to have to stop for a minute and adjust the seat for her much shorter legs or she’d wreck.
Her elation was so high she was shaking. Wait until she walked into the police station with the baby in her arms. Her brother wouldn’t be able to tease her about her choice of career anymore.
Jayne pulled off on the side of the road raising a cloud of dust. She fumbled for the lever that would let her pull the front seat close enough to the steering wheel that she could drive the car in relative comfort. Her left shoulder was beginning to actively hurt. She must have wrenched it badly. She resisted an urge to rub the sore spot. Instead, she cast a look over the back seat to make sure the baby was okay. The car seat faced away from her so she could barely make out the small infant, but it still appeared to be sleeping.
Confident now, and bubbling with excitement, she pulled back out onto the road ignoring her shoulder. There was a crossroad up ahead. She could turn around there. The scarred glass with the bullet hole in the center made it a little tricky to see, now that she was sitting up, but she could manage. She’d just rescued a baby amid a hail of bullets. She could do anything!
She glanced in the rearview mirror as she pulled out. A silver car was barreling up behind her.
Intuition, or even a premonition, had her pressing down on the gas pedal. Lots of people drove fast. It was practically a rule. It didn’t have to mean a thing. But the car was gaining on her with single-minded purpose. She couldn’t have said why she knew the driver was coming 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 tried not to be ill. “It’s okay baby. The blood’s not pumping or spurting like it would if the bullet had struck an artery.” The brave words were of little consolation to her or the child. She was bleeding badly enough to be thoroughly frightened.
Using one of the diapers as a makeshift bandage, she covered the wound as best she could, applying pressure for a few minutes in an effort to slow the bleeding. But she couldn’t just stand out here exposed. The baby-nappers would be searching for her. She needed to put distance between her and the silver car.
Pulling the car seat out was pure agony. She was tempted to leave the heavy plastic seat, but it would offer the baby some protection when she had to set the infant down so she could rest. Heck, she already felt woozy and who knew how far she would have to walk before she found help.
She finally got the baby and the car seat out of the car and removed the diaper bag. It struck her then, that it might be a good idea to hide the flame-red car as well. The color stood out like a beacon which would make it easy for the silver car’s driver to spot.
She walked around to peer over the edge of the road. The drainage ditch was deep. Not deep enough to hide the car, but maybe deep enough that it wouldn’t be noticed right away. After all, it would be dark in a few hours.
“Worth a shot,” she muttered aloud.
There was enough gas left to get the engine started one more time. She put the car in neutral and aimed the tires at the ditch. A hard shove against the trunk was all that was required. The engine sputtered and died, but the car rolled far enough to slip over the edge. It made a satisfying crash as it tumbled down and flipped on its side.
The baby had begun crying in earnest. Jayne fought against adding her own cries. “I know you need to be changed and fed, but it’s going to have to wait, okay? We’re too exposed here.”
She lifted the diaper bag, surprised by the weight. No way could she carry this on her wounded shoulder, but what choice did she have? She slipped the strap over her head so it would rest on her good shoulder and run across her chest. She bit back a moan when she moved her left arm to get it through the strap, but she managed. Then she lifted the carrier and set off down the road.
Every few yards she had to stop and rest. She was starting to think having the man in the silver car find her was preferable to this form of slow torture when she came across a side road that was slightly wider and better paved. Praying it led somewhere, she turned and started following the road.
Each step jarred her shoulder until all she could do was concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. Jayne prayed for someone to find her because she wasn’t sure how much farther she could go.
At some point, the infant stopped crying. She wanted to check on the baby, but was afraid to stop moving for fear she wouldn’t be able to start again. She felt weak and sick to her stomach. Sweat beaded her forehead.
A sound up ahead made her lift her head. Her heart began racing. A gas station sign loomed like a beacon. A town! With renewed energy, she kept moving. Several small buildings squatted on the edge of the road leading into a small town. A combination feed-and-general store sat right beside the gas station. That meant people and telephones.
“We’re going to make it, baby. Just hang on a little longer.”
The baby didn’t make a sound.
Jayne stumbled toward the nearest building which was the gas station. But as she drew close enough to call out, fear paralyzed her vocal cords. A car sat near one of the pumps. A silver car. The same silver car that had chased her from the shopping center.
Jayne came to a stop, swaying in the late-afternoon sun. Beside the car was a public phone. A man speaking into the instrument stood with his back to her.
There was nowhere to run, even if she had been capable of such a feat. A few yards away, a good-looking man was loading supplies into the back of a battered black pickup truck. Tall and lean, the rugged-looking cowboy lifted the heavy feed bags and slung them into the truck as if they weighed nothing at all. He shoved back the hat that sat low on his head and a lock of dark hair fell over his forehead.
She was tempted to call out to him, but fear kept her silent. The odds were too high that the man from the silver car would kill them both and then take off with the baby.
Without once looking in her direction, the cowboy pulled the tarp down over the last bag of feed. He didn’t secure the load. Instead, he wheeled the long cart back inside the feed store.
Jayne called on the last bit of her strength. She skirted the gas station and headed for the pickup truck. Setting down the baby carrier, she tore the diaper bag over her head and thrust it into the bed of the truck as far back as she could manage. Ignoring the screaming pain that traveled up her neck and down her arm, as well as the fresh blood trickling past the makeshift bandage, she lifted the baby from the car seat and set her on a bag of feed. Awkwardly, she tossed the carrier under the tarp. The baby immediately awakened and began to whimper.
“Shh. Don’t cry, baby. Not now.”
Jayne climbed painfully into the back of the pickup truck. Every second she expected to hear a shout or feel a bullet in her back.
She pushed the carrier and the baby bag farther under the tarp toward the cab of the truck. Grabbing the crying infant, she slithered beneath the tarp with the child.
The truck bed was close to full, but she managed to make a place for herself and the baby up near the cab between two heavy bags of feed. If the man got off the phone and started in this direction, the crying would draw attention. Frantically, she opened the baby bag and withdrew a bottle of formula. Terrified they would be discovered at any moment, it seemed to take forever before she got the bottle ready and into the infant’s wailing mouth.
The baby immediately stopped crying and began to suck avidly. Jayne sank back, totally drained, the infant cradled against her bad side.
Moments later, a man’s low curse choked her with dread. The truck’s owner threw back the edge of the tarp.
Her terror escalated as she waited for him to discover her. But instead, he continued cursing as he pitched several more items inside and drew the tarp back down.
“Afternoon,” another man’s voice called out near her head.
The cowboy grunted and began tying off his tarp.
“I was wondering if you’ve seen a woman and a baby in a red sedan,” the voice asked.
The man from the silver car was practically next to the spot where she lay. She didn’t breathe, praying the baby’s sucking noises weren’t audible through the tarp.
“Nope.”
Her inadvertent rescuer had a deep soothing rumble of a voice. He managed to convey disdain and disinterest in that single syllable.
“My wife and I had a stupid fight,” the man from the silver car continued. “She ran off with the baby before I could apologize. I’m afraid she may do something foolish and hurt herself.”
Jayne continued to hold her breath. The baby’s slurping sounded so loud over the pounding of her heart she was certain the two men would hear.
“Haven’t seen any red cars with or without a woman driver. Now if you’ll excuse me…”
The cab door creaked open.
“Okay. Sure. Thanks, anyhow.”
Jayne didn’t release her breath until the engine started and the truck began pulling away. She’d done it! They were safe. As soon as the truck came to a stop again, she’d ask the man to call the police.
Her head fell back in exhaustion. She only hoped she didn’t bleed to death before the truck stopped.
Chapter Two
Cade McGovern pulled off his dusty Stetson and set it beside him on the passenger seat. He chomped down on the toothpick in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “Dumb bastard. He’d be smarter to let her go,” he muttered.
In his mirror, Cade watched the other man staring after him, before turning to walk back to his silver car. Cade could have been nicer, he admitted to himself. It wasn’t that poor bastard’s fault that Cade was out of sorts with himself and the world at large.
He’d jammed his thumb good on that cart when he started loading. Besides, Cade wasn’t fond of strangers and he hated coming into town. Technically, Darwin Crossing wasn’t enough of a town to make most maps, but it was as close to so-called civilization as he wanted to get. He could live just fine without other people and their problems. Especially some jerk old enough to know better than to saddle himself with a runaway wife.
At least Cade’s former wife, Bonita, had been smart enough not to get pregnant before she ran off, he thought grimly.
Thinking of Bonita caused him to bite down harder on the toothpick. How come all the paths in his head led to thinking about her lately? She was the last person he wanted to think about. No man liked to remember past mistakes, and Cade had never made a bigger one.
