Midnight Exposure (Midnight #1)(30)
Scott stared over the back of the seat as Reed pulled open the rear door and climbed into the back with Jayne on his lap.
“Drive, Scott. Keep it in low gear. Lock the doors and keep a sharp eye out.”
Scott nodded, slid over the bench seat, and turned his attention to the road. At the click of the door locks, Jayne went limp.
Reed’s heart lurched. She trusted him to keep her safe. He pulled her closer. The solid weight of her against his body reassured him that she was really there. It wasn’t a cruel dream.
She was alive.
But whoever had kidnapped her couldn’t be far away.
The Druid stood at the edge of the road. A set of taillights faded into the whiteout. He blinked snowflakes from his eyelashes.
She’s gone.
Someone had picked her up in the road.
Anger warred with relief. She was alive and safe. His goddess had fought well. He was the one who had failed. He should have expected her to fight. The fault was entirely his own.
No doubt the gods were disappointed in him.
He’d find her, though. The minute the storm passed. There weren’t that many places for her to hide out here.
He retuned to his snowmobile, parked behind a stand of evergreens, and marked his location on his handheld GPS. Even an experienced woodsman benefited from technology. When he returned home, he’d pinpoint all the homes in the area.
She was his last hope. He’d find her if he had to search each and every one.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Reed twisted and reached over the backseat into the cargo area for a blanket. After unzipping his coat, he pulled her against his chest, then covered them both. Water from her clothing seeped into his sweater.
Sheba jumped over the back of the front seat and sat next to them, giving the stranger a few sniffs and a halfhearted wag.
“Here, girl. Down.” Reed patted his thigh. Instinct kicked in and the dog settled across Jayne’s legs. The Husky’s thick coat would help warm Jayne.
“Should I turn around? Head for the hospital?” Scott’s gaze caught Reed’s in the rearview mirror.
Good question. How badly was she hurt?
His gut quivered as he made the decision. Her life depended on it. “No. We’re only a few miles from home. She needs to get warm now. It would take us hours to get to the hospital in this mess—if we got there at all.” With the emergency supplies he kept in the truck, he and Scott would be able to survive being stranded overnight. Jayne might not.
Reed glanced down at the face resting against his chest. Her skin was so pale it had taken on a bluish hue. Her cheeks were chapped pink from windburn and cold, but he didn’t see any of the telltale blotches that would indicate frostbite. Her scar stood out crimson against her skin, reminding him that she’d been hurt before. One of her hands, bloody and raw-looking, slipped out from under his coat. He tucked it back inside, resting it over his heart.
“She gonna be OK?” Scott asked in a low voice.
A shiver seized Jayne, indicating her body was still trying to generate heat. Reed hugged her tighter. “I don’t think she’s been out here for very long. She was still on her feet a few minutes ago.”
“Where do you think she came from? She’s not even wearing a coat, and we haven’t passed any abandoned vehicles.”
Reed hesitated, tempted to shield his son from the unpleasant details, but Scott needed to know the truth. He wasn’t a child anymore. He’d be leaving for college next fall. “Her wrists have ligature wounds. She must have been tied up somewhere around here.”
“What?” Reed caught Scott’s surprise in the rearview mirror. “Someone kidnapped—”
The Yukon lurched and Reed cut him off. “Keep your eyes on the road, please. Just get us home for now. We’re not going to get any answers until she wakes up.”
It took them thirty minutes to navigate the remaining few miles to their house. Jayne remained unconscious, her body slack except for short periods of intense shivering that wracked her lean frame. Reed could only hope she didn’t have any serious injuries as he carried her inside the chilled living room.
Scott flicked a light switch. Nothing. “I’ll get the fire going.”
He stoked glowing embers in the woodstove and added logs. Flames leaped in the iron box as the fire licked dry wood. Preferring the cold, Sheba headed for her bed in the opposite corner.
Reed set Jayne down on the floor in front of the burning stove and began to remove her boots. “Scott, get me some towels and a sleeping bag, please.” He remembered the wounds that circled her wrists and her bloody hands. “I’ll need the first aid kit too.”
Scott moved off toward the kitchen. Reed switched on a camp lantern, then tossed Jayne’s boots aside and tugged on her sodden jeans. He peeled the soggy material over her hips, which were covered in fitted, moisture-wicking long johns. She’d been more prepared for the weather than he’d thought. The sopping wool sweater came off next, then a T-shirt, leaving Jayne in a tank made from the same synthetic fabric as the long johns. He tugged off her wool socks. No sign of frostbite on her feet or toes. Both a miracle and affirmation that she hadn’t been outside for long.
Reed examined her hands. No frostbite there either, but broken, bloody blisters tipped her fingers. Her nails were jagged and torn. A shallow cut crossed her palm. Respect swelled Reed’s chest. These hands had fought for their freedom and won.