Protecting Her Secrets (Mountain Men of Culver Springs #1)

Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

Walker

After one painful hour at the mercantile and two at Louise’s because the old lady wouldn’t shut up, we’re finally done shopping. I’m walking behind Jazzy and Skylar, my hands full of bags, which isn’t a bad place to be. I zero in on my woman’s ass hugged perfectly by her jeans. While the girls were shopping, I veered down to the sex shop and bought a little bling for the ass in question. Fuck, I can’t wait until tonight.

I’m so distracted by imagining how cute her little asshole will be with a plug in it that I somehow miss the distant rumbling of a motorcycle. Skylar is deep into a conversation about flare or straight-leg pants and misses it too. Before I have time to get her off the sidewalk, two bikers speed toward us. It’s hard to identify either of them as Klutch, since they have helmets on their heads and bandanas pulled up over their noses, only exposing their narrowed eyes.

The one in front reaches behind his back and pulls out a gun. Suddenly, my feet feel like they’re moving through mud, and I can’t get words of warning out fast enough. I need to move faster, damn it, but I was too far away and too distracted. I see the biker take aim and hear the loud crack of the gun going off twice in rapid succession.

Jazzy tackles Skylar, and they both go down. People on the street shout and duck for cover as I kneel next to the two women. I need to make sure they’re okay, but I also take a quick glance at the quickly retreating bikers, wanting proof it was the Broken Rebels. Unfortunately, they aren’t wearing their cuts, and their license plates have been covered.

There’s a pool of blood on the sidewalk, staining the shoveled snow they fell on, and I panic. I’m trained for emergencies, and I’ve helped multiple people who were injured while out on the mountain, but nothing could prepare me for the sight of my bleeding, unconscious wife.

“Jazzy, it’s safe now. You can get up.” I tap her on the shoulder, but she doesn’t move. “Jazzy, you need to move. Skylar needs my help.”

I roll her off, and that’s when I notice Skylar isn’t the only unconscious one. There’s so much blood covering both of them, I don’t know who was hit. Maybe both of them.

“Oh, fuck. What do I do?” I ask no one. This is an overwhelming situation for anyone, but especially me when it involves my pregnant wife.

Taking a calming breath, I remind myself I’m trained for emergencies. It’s not the first time I’ve been involved in a rescue of a victim with a gunshot wound, so I need to calm the fuck down and do what needs to be done to save both of them.

I place two fingers on Jazzy’s wrist, and I’m uncomfortable with how long it takes me to feel her faint pulse. Next, I do the same to Skylar, relieved to find her heart beating normally. Even though everything in me wants to treat Skylar first, my training takes over, and I search Jazzy’s body to find where the blood is coming from.

Ryker, the owner of the mercantile, suddenly sinks to his knees next to me. “What are we looking at?”

Lifting Jazzy’s shirt, I find a gunshot wound to her abdomen. “Fuck. We need to slow down the bleeding before it’s too late.”

“I got this. You take care of Skylar,” he says, stripping off his flannel and pushing it to Jazzy’s abdomen.

The front of Skylar’s shirt is saturated with blood, but it’s not hers. The blood coming from her is underneath her head. Even though I know she has a pulse, I’m terrified I’m going to find a gunshot wound she won’t come back from.

Sirens sound in the distance, and I know I need to figure this out before they get here and push me away. I need to see what we’re dealing with for myself. Rolling her onto her side, I find a wound, but it’s not from a gunshot. When Jazzy tackled her, Skylar must’ve hit her head on a rock. I want to breathe a sigh of relief, but until she wakes up, I won’t truly know she’s okay.

Culver Springs’ only ambulance and Wilder’s patrol car come screeching to a stop. There’s a crowd around us now, but I pay no mind to any of them. The only thing that matters is the two women on the ground. I bend over and whisper into Jazzy’s ear, “Don’t you dare die. I need to be able to thank you for saving Skylar’s life.” Then, I place a kiss on Skylar’s forehead.

“Give me some room,” Davis, the town’s volunteer firefighter and paramedic, pushes through the throng of people, followed by Wilder. “You guys did good, but let me take over.”

“I got her. Don’t worry.” Wilder pats my arm and moves in to help Davis.

After some assessments, medevac services are called to a hospital in Reno for Jazzy while Skylar will be taken to the local clinic for some stitches. Wilder wraps Skylar’s head and places a C-collar on her then brings me back in to try and rouse Sky while they work to get Jazzy stabilized for the flight.

I take Skylar’s cold hand in mine. Shit, she must be freezing. Glancing around, I see a very distraught Minty watching on with concern. “Minty! Run inside and grab a blanket. I’ll pay whatever later.”

She nods and rushes inside. It’s the first time I’ve seen such strong emotions come from the girl. Less than a minute later, she has an all-weather blanket pulled out from the plastic packaging and is handing it over. I thank her and get it spread over Skylar.

“Wake up, sweetheart,” I say, rubbing the back of my hand over the side of her face. She doesn’t stir, but I try not to panic because some people are harder to rouse after a head injury. God, I hope the baby is okay. Skylar has lost so much recently; she doesn’t need to lose this too.

The sound of chopper blades cutting through the sky sounds, and everyone looks up. I assume they’ll land across the street in the field and am proven right when the red and white helicopter lowers in the middle of the park. Seconds later, medics are jumping out and running to us with a backboard in hand.

Once she’s loaded, Davis turns his attention to Skylar. She’s carefully placed on a backboard and put inside the ambulance. I go to follow but get stopped by Wilder.

“What happened?”

“Drive by. Two white males on motorcycles. Looked like a Glock.”

“Were they Broken Rebels?”

“Abso-fuckin-lutely, but they weren’t wearing their cuts, and their license plates were covered, so I can’t prove it.”

“Shit.” He takes off his hat, spins it around, and puts it back on his head. “I’m going to call Jazzy’s parents and head to Reno. She’s one of mine, and I need to be there for her, but when I get back, I’ll need an official statement.”

“Fine,” I say and hop in the back of the ambulance.

An hour later, I’m still sitting next to Skylar, who’s laid out on one of two hospital beds in the clinic. She woke up not too long ago, and we’re currently waiting for Dr. Rivera to return with supplies to stitch up the back of her head. She has a nasty gash, but she’s okay, and so is the baby.

“I can’t believe she dove in front of me like that,” Sky says through tears. She woke up confused and was shocked to learn what happened. “I’ll never forgive myself if she doesn’t pull through.”

The last update I got was that Jazzy was going in for surgery. Wilder didn’t understand exactly what the surgeon said, but basically, there was a pool of blood in her abdomen, and they needed to do exploratory surgery and repair what was damaged. The surgeon was optimistic and said he would report back as soon as he could.

“She’ll be okay. Can you imagine one tiny bullet taking that woman down?” I add some humor to try and lighten her dark mood.

“You’re right. It would take a freight train.” She squeezes my hand. “Klutch is going to get away with this, isn’t he?”

I blow out a breath. “I don’t know. It’s obvious to us, but there’s no substantial evidence.”

“So, what? I have to wait until he attacks again and hope he leaves evidence this time or can be identified?”

“That won’t happen. I’ll never allow him to hurt you like this again,” I vow.

“Unless I hide out in your house for the rest of my life, you can’t promise that. The only way we’ll be rid of him is if he gets caught.”

“Or killed.”

“I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear that,” Dr. Rivera says, walking in with a tray of tools.

Dr. Jose Rivera is in his early forties and moved here about seven or eight years ago to take care of his aging mother. It worked out great for the town because he opened the clinic and we no longer had to travel for medical care. His mom has since passed, but thankfully, Jose married a local woman and has no plans to leave Culver Springs.

“I’m just saying, accidents happen every day,” I say.

“True. Like this one right here. Skylar, would you mind sitting up and swinging your legs off the bed, away from me?”

I help her get into position, since she’s woozy from a concussion. He unwraps the wound before poking and prodding. Skylar squeezes my hands, wincing with the pain.

“I hate to do this to you, but I need to shave around the cut. The good news is, you probably won’t ever notice due to where it is.”

“Okay.” Skylar sounds nervous, and I wish it was me instead of her.

“You’ll feel a couple little pokes from the numbing shot, but you shouldn’t feel anything else.”

She takes a slow breath. “Okay. I’m ready.”

I know this will be uncomfortable for her, so I try for a distraction. “Once we get you home and settled, I’ll warm up some of Miss Martha’s soup—I think I have a batch of broccoli cheddar—and I’ll bake up some fresh bread to go with it.”

“That sounds good.” Her face pinches in pain.

“Once Sprocket smells your wound, he won’t want to leave your side. I split my leg open once after tripping on a trail, and Doc had to stitch me up. That dog laid on the couch with me for two days straight.”

“Aw, he’s such a good boy.” She startles and hisses. “Shit.”

“Watch it, Doc. She’s been through enough without you treating her like a pin cushion,” I snap.

“Walker,” Sky chides.

“It’s okay. I’m used to his bad attitude.” He sets down the needle.

“I don’t have a bad attitude.” The pair of them laugh. “It’s not funny. I’m very mild-mannered.”

Their laughter forces Doc to pause what he’s doing to wipe his eyes on the sleeve of his white coat. “You’ve got a sense of humor, that’s for sure.”

I plop down into a chair like a child, and he gets back to work. Skylar’s smile fades as she turns serious. “I’m going to call Lisa Warner and tell her I can’t work. It’s clear I need to stay away from everyone. I should stay away from you too, but I know you won’t let that happen.”

“Not on your life.”

“I wouldn’t have to stay away forever. Klutch will give up eventually, and then I could come back. When it’s safe.”

“That’s not just a no, that’s a hell no, for so many reasons. The first being, you’re my wife and you belong with me. Second, you’re pregnant and need regular care, something that would be difficult while on the run. Third, you have no way of protecting yourself going from random motel to random motel. At least here, we have plans.”

“A lot of good those did,” she mutters.

“We underestimated him, I’ll admit to that. But he showed us who he is, and now, we can adapt.”

“There we go. All done.” Dr. Rivera pulls off his gloves. “Wait twenty-four hours before getting it wet, and even then, don’t soak it. If you take a bath, don’t get your head wet. I’ll give you a printed sheet of instructions and what to look out for as far as the concussion, but the best thing you can do is rest and let your body heal.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“My obstetrics rotation was many years ago, but I’m confident I could print out some pictures for you if you wanted me to do an ultrasound.”

“Yes,” I blurt out.

“I was asking the mother,” he says, making my cheeks heat.

Skylar grins at me. “We would love that.”