Christmas Justice (Carder Texas Connections #7)(40)

“He’ll be here,” Laurel said. He had to be here. She chewed on her fingernail.

Suddenly a figure came stumbling out of the trees. Her finger tightened on the trigger.

He looked up at her. “Garrett!” she shouted.

“Get in,” he ordered and bounded into the passenger seat. “Drive,” he said, clearing his throat.

Carefully she backed up and turned the SUV around. “Lights?” she asked.

“On,” he said. “Get us out of here fast.”

The beams hit the dirt road and she hit the gas.

“Why the hell did you wait for me? What if I hadn’t come back?”

“I have the number you gave me.” Laurel gripped the steering wheel. “I was getting ready to call Daniel Adams.”

“I don’t know whether to be relieved you were here or turn you over my knee.” The SUV bounced and Garrett took a sharp intake of breath. Laurel flipped on the interior lights and looked over at him.

His mouth was pinched and the light leather of his seat was streaked with red.

“You’re bleeding.”

“Just drive,” he ordered. “Get to the main road as fast as you can. Maybe we’ll be lucky and those two were the only ones following us. For now.”

She urged the vehicle forward.

Molly stuck her head between the seats. “Do you need a Band-Aid?” she asked. “I have princess ones. You can have my favorite if you want. Which princess do you like the best?”

Garrett smiled at her. “You’re my favorite princess, sugar. And don’t you worry. It’s just a scratch. I’ll be fine.”

Laurel’s knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. He was lying to protect Molly. Tears stung Laurel’s eyes. She’d fallen hard for this man. He’d saved them yet again, but this time she really didn’t know if they’d make it out alive. Blood kept seeping onto the seat. She had to get him help.

The nearest town was Trouble. She’d seen a clinic there. She could go back. Everyone knew him there. Someone would help.

It took forever to reach the county road leading to Trouble. She finally got to the intersection.

“Turn left,” Garrett said through clenched teeth.

“I’m glad you agree. I’m getting you to a doctor.”

“I can’t now.” Garrett leaned his head back on the seat. “Keep driving straight.”

After about fifteen minutes he turned his head to her. In the light of the interior his face had gone pale. “There’s a dirt road not too far from here. Pull over and let me out.”

“No way—”

“Do it, Laurel.”

Against her better judgment, she pulled to the side and stopped the car.

Garrett gripped the door handle and faced her. “Here’s what you’re going to do. Take this road. It circles down some back roads until you reach Rural Route 11. Follow that until you hit this highway again. Get to a phone, even if you have to buy a prepaid cell at a convenience store. Call Daniel Adams. Tell him what’s happening. He’ll take you to Covert Technology Confidential in Carder, Texas. They’ll protect you.”

Daniel’s employer might be the only one that could hide Laurel and Molly from the agency and get away with it.

She shook her head. “I won’t leave you. You’re hurt.”

“Laurel, they’re tracking me. I don’t know how, but they are. You have to get away.”

He opened the SUV door, but as soon as his boots hit the pavement he collapsed.

She shoved open her door and ran around the car. “At least let me stop the bleeding before I leave. You can’t do it yourself.”

He closed his eyes, then gave her a reluctant nod. Why did the thing that attracted her so much to Garrett have to be the very thing that could kill him?

“There’s a T-shirt in my backpack. And a canteen. Wash off the wound and use the cotton as a bandage. Then you have to go.”

“Are you fixing Sheriff Garrett, Aunt Laurel?”

“That’s right, sugar,” Garrett said with a smile. “I’ll be good as new.”

Liar.

Laurel fished out the material and the water. She lifted his shirt and he passed her the flashlight. She gasped. Dried blood caked part of his back, but fresh still oozed from the wound. She didn’t know how he was still standing.

She ripped the T-shirt in two and soaked half in water. She bathed his back, trying to be gentle. He didn’t even wince.

Each pass removed more of the blood, revealing the scars. They weren’t all that bad. The horror of what he’d experienced far surpassed this permanent reminder.

She worked her way toward the area that still bled. The bullet had hit him near his shoulder blade, near where she’d seen his previous wound and stitches. He looked as if he’d scraped his back raw on the rocks, too.

“Just how many times have you been shot in the back?” she asked.

“Since I met you?” he asked. “Or altogether?”

“Wiseass.”

“Aunt Laurel, that’s a naughty word.” Molly gasped.

“Sorry, Molly.” She frowned at his back. “See what you made me do?”

He chuckled. “I’m going to miss you two.”

She ripped the clean half of the T-shirt for a second round and dabbed at the wound.