Chapter 3
Chrissie Dunworth—oh so thankfully—had a pulse. It was weak, but it was there, almost steady. And she was breathing, just nonresponsive. Still, Jessy had tremendous hope she’d be all right; she’d let out sounds just moments before.
“We shouldn’t move her, right?”
she asked Wyatt.
“Probably safest if we wait for those who are trained. I doubt she’s broken any bones. I think she was terrified, dehydrated by now, and starving. But . . . I hear the sirens already!”
he said.
“Stay with her; I’ll leave that light. I want to make sure that the EMTs find us.”
He hurried back up the ladder. When he did so, Chrissie stirred.
Then her eyes opened, and she stared at Jessy.
Before she could scream, Jessy spoke to her.
“It’s all right, it’s all right. Medical folks are on their way, and you’re going to go into the hospital to get checked out. You’re safe; we’re getting you help!”
Giant tears filled the girl’s eyes.
“Thank you!”
she whispered.
“My mom, my dad—”
“They’re at the hospital.”
“But my mom is—”
“Alive. She’s alive. And from everything I’ve read and heard, Chrissie, your dad has been with your mom at the hospital while making sure everyone kept searching for you.”
“You’re a cop?”
Chrissie asked.
“I, uh, no. I’m an artist, but my grandfather just left me property near here that isn’t unlike this . . . well, we didn’t have underground storage and I was just looking for old outbuildings, but my friend and I both heard you . . . and we’re going to get you to the hospital. Your mom and dad will be able to see you! They’ll be so happy, Chrissie, so hang in there. You need to hang in there—”
The girl almost smiled.
“You’re an artist?”
Jessy managed to smile in return.
“Yep. Just out here because I have paperwork to sign. My grandfather was a super guy, and he just passed and . . .”
Jessy stopped speaking with a shrug, wishing she had more medical training. Should she shut up and insist that the girl rest and save her breath, or was it good to keep her talking, awake and aware?
“Mainly kids’ books!”
Jessy said.
Chrissie smiled, but then a look of fear darkened her brow as she whispered.
“They’re gone? They’re really gone? I guess they left me here to die, but they aren’t out there, right? I mean, you’re certain, they’re not out there?”
“Long gone, Chrissie,”
she assured the girl.
“I’m Jessy, by the way. Jessy Danson.”
“Jessy!”
Her name was called loudly from just above her; Wyatt was back.
Jessy wasn’t sure how Wyatt had managed it, but he already had the EMTs at the hole in the ground. And in this situation, she was glad to see that the EMTs were young, strapping men. No matter how good one might be in emergency medicine, getting the young woman up a ladder and out of the hole wouldn’t be an easy task.
But the two EMTs were already talking with Wyatt, and they had it figured it out. They’d gotten a litter down and were ready to slide Chrissie onto it when the girl started to cry, grasping Jessy’s hand.
“Don’t leave me, don’t leave me!”
she begged.
“I will not leave you; I will be right with you, I promise,”
Jessy told her.
“But they must get you out of here. And Wyatt is my very good friend; I’ve known him all my life. He’s going to be with you, too. He’s the one who really found you!”
Wyatt spoke gently to Chrissie as well. He promised that Jessy would, indeed, be allowed to go with her all the way to the hospital. And neither of them would leave her until they knew she was all right, and they would stay until her father was with her.
“Chrissie, do you know who did this to you? Can you tell us anything?”
She shook her head.
“I ran into the kitchen because I heard a thump! It was . . . it was my mom falling. My mom . . .”
“She’s in the hospital, Chrissie, holding her own,”
Wyatt assured the young woman.
“So, you heard the thump. You went into the kitchen and—”
“There was a feed bag thrown over my head, and I was thrown down on the floor, tied up and then . . . I heard them tearing the house apart, and then dragging me out, lifting me . . . I think that there were two of them. I mean, it was at least two, but . . .”
“You didn’t see anything, see their faces?”
Wyatt asked.
“No! I’m so sorry!”
“Chrissie, you don’t need to be sorry about anything at all. But if you do think of anything, anything at all, something special in their voices, a tattoo on a wrist, anything, please, please, make sure the law enforcement officers and agents get to know!”
Wyatt told her.
“Just don’t leave me!”
“Jessy will be with you all the way,”
Wyatt promised her, looking at Jessy.
She nodded.
Of course!
Chrissie allowed herself to be put on the litter, and Jessy had to marvel at the way the three men manipulated the move. One of the EMTs got to the top and out of the hole while Wyatt followed him, grasping the front of the litter while the last man held the bottom. Then the EMT who was out of the hole grasped the top, and the two others fed him the length of the litter and emerged behind it. Jessy quickly followed them.
They hurried back through the path in the woods. An ambulance was parked behind Wyatt’s car, but Chrissie started to cry again and begged Jessy to go with her.
She shrugged to Wyatt, and he nodded; he knew that she would do it. She hopped into the ambulance and held Chrissie’s hand while one of the young EMTs started an IV to rehydrate the girl, speaking with the doctor who would meet them in the emergency room.
She was asked to wait outside as Chrissie was whisked into a room. Trying to calm herself down, she determined that she needed to be in the waiting room.
When she walked in, she discovered Wyatt was already there with a man of about forty-five, standing there unashamedly, tears running down his cheeks.
“That’s her?”
the man demanded of Wyatt.
“Yes, that’s Jessy Danson,”
Wyatt said. “Sir—”
In a split second, the man was across the room, enveloping her in a hug, then stepping back apologetically, mumbling so that she could barely understand.
But she knew that the man had to be Chrissie’s father.
“Sir, sir, it’s all right. We’re so grateful Chrissie is all right. And I know they’ll let you see her soon—”
“Never, never in a thousand years on earth, could we thank you enough!”
the man exclaimed.
“And I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry! I never understood—they could have had anything I owned, stolen everything, and it wouldn’t have mattered. But my wife . . . they must keep her, make sure her brain doesn’t bleed . . . and my daughter! But—”
“I truly believe your daughter will be fine!”
Jessy told him, setting a hand on his shoulder.
“And I have a lot of faith! I believe your wife will come out of it, too.”
Maybe she shouldn’t have spoken. She had no idea of what the condition of his wife might be, but he was so emotional, she felt she had to be reassuring.
She looked across the room, thinking Wyatt might step in and help her. But she frowned; Wyatt was out in the hallway.
There were officers there, police officers in uniform, and there were several people in regular clothing as well.
The feds had been given the lead in the investigations—straddling state lines—she had learned during dinner.
And they were all questioning Wyatt, who seemed to be gravely answering their questions. He pointed at her; she smiled grimly and a little hopelessly. She was still trying to help Mr. Dunworth.
Then a nurse came into the room, bright and happy, seeking Mr. Dunworth. He could come in and see his daughter. She was dehydrated, but they didn’t think she’d need to stay more than the next day or perhaps the night just to ensure she was hydrated and suffering no other possible dangers from her strange captivity.
In fact, they could put her in a room with her mother—who still needed to be observed to ensure her health before she left the hospital.
Dunworth hugged Jessy fiercely again.
She smiled and dared to tease.
“You need to hug my friend Wyatt McFarlane. I was looking for an outbuilding; Wyatt knew that there often were storage facilities underground!”
He smiled at her and nodded.
“I owe both of you my life!” he said.
She didn’t get to reply. He hurried out of the room after the nurse, anxious to see his daughter. As he did so, the group beyond the waiting room windows broke apart and a dignified-looking man, with crew-cut silver hair, and a slightly younger woman joined Wyatt to come into the waiting room to talk with her.
“Jessy, these are Special Agents Mary Richter and Andy Soloman,”
Wyatt told her.
“I’m afraid the night is going to get longer.”
“Technically,”
Mary Richter said, grimacing as she looked at Jessy.
“the morning is going to get much longer. And we apologize profusely, but we need you at our office in Colorado Springs. Paperwork. And forgive me, we’re also horribly embarrassed! We thought we’d searched and searched and searched, looked forever and ever for any possible building. We’re still unbelievably stunned and grateful that you happened to be in the state—and happened to be so determined to find the young lady!”
Jessy glanced at Wyatt.
“Mary and my mom went to school together,”
he said.
“She’s great with paperwork. She’ll be gentle!”
he teased.
“But you—”
she began.
“Oh, I’ll be there. Paperwork for all of us,” he said.
She was wondering if she’d feel like she was under arrest, but it wasn’t that complicated. Wyatt was able to get his car so that the two of them could drive together.
“Jessy,”
he told her in the car.
“you’re amazing. There were dozens of people, local, federal, volunteers . . . all looking for that girl. And you were determined, and you found her!”
“Technically, you found her,”
Jessy said. She looked at Wyatt. He appeared to be distressed, almost angry with himself.
But not with her.
“Well, I just . . .”
She paused, shaking her head, offering him a weak smile.
“Wyatt, it’s almost Christmas. But honestly, I think it was just knowing there were abandoned buildings on our property, some of them invisible because they are tangled in the trees. Because . . . well, we’re not old out here like they are on the East Coast, but . . . there was a ranch on my granddad’s property long before my family was there and . . .”
“You saved her life.”
“If I did, I’m grateful. I still say you saved her life. I wouldn’t have thought beneath the ground!”
“But I wouldn’t have gone out there tonight if it hadn’t been for you,”
he said softly.
“Well, we did go out there. And . . .”
Her phone was ringing. She winced. She hadn’t thought to call anyone at the ranch to tell them what was happening.
“I’m awful—”
she murmured.
“No, no, you’re fine. I called Cody and told him where we were,”
Wyatt told her.
“Then—”
She looked at her phone. It was her mother.
“No, oh, no . . .”
she whispered.
Wyatt glanced at her, frowning. She glanced back at him. She felt frozen.
What if her father had taken a turn for the worse?
What if her father . . .
“I can take it for you, but, Jessy, you need to answer your mom.”
“It’s the crack of dawn!”
“Not back East. And she might have forgotten.”
Jessy answered the call. “Mom?”
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry!”
her mother said.
“I was so excited I forgot the time difference. Your dad is great! He’s been cleared! We’re going to come to you! The doctor just this second came out and . . . wow, right. I am sorry, darling. It’s just after eight a.m. here, and I now realize you’re on mountain time so it’s just after six a.m. there. But your dad had the first appointment of the day, the eight a.m. appointment, and he’s already out of his wheelchair and he’s doing great, and he’s cleared to fly! He hated you having to go out there without him, without us; but we’re going to be on our way the day after tomorrow—we’ll be there for Christmas Eve and Christmas. Of course, we’ll miss your grandfather, but he’d be so happy we will all be out there, together, a family, loving the place as he did!”
Jessy swallowed hard. She’d been so afraid.
Christmas—out here?
Just as it had been for so, so many years!
And did it matter? She was so lucky. Her father was going to be all right!
She smiled and glanced at Wyatt.
“Mom, that’s wonderful!” she said.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,”
her mother said.
“Um, you didn’t wake me. I was awake. And Mom, I’m so delighted! Make sure I get the time of your flight, and I’ll be out to pick you up at the airport. Love you, love you. Tell Dad how grateful I am, how relieved.”
Wyatt smiled at her.
“So, your dad is okay?” he asked.
She nodded, tears stinging her eyes.
“I was so afraid! I mean, grateful that a life had been saved, and then terrified because I might have lost . . . my dad. And I’m thinking now that I’m so selfish. My dad’s condition didn’t change the fact that Chrissie Dunworth is just eighteen, a girl who deserves a life—”
“Jessy! You’re not being selfish at all. It’s natural that you should love your father and worry about him, especially after just losing his father! Jessy, trust me, we’re all human!”
He was so sweetly passionate as he spoke to her, so caring.
She accepted his words, nodding.
“Is it really six a.m.?”
she asked him.
“Oh, yeah. But I did make calls and let them, and Cody, know you were all right. We just wound up being involved in a criminal case—in a good way,”
Wyatt said.
“So, paperwork, and then home.”
They reached the offices in Colorado Springs.
It was strangely . . . comfortable.
Wyatt seemed to know everyone there. He explained to her that several agents had grown up in the area, they’d known his parents, or someone who had worked at the ranch.
She answered questions.
She signed a statement.
Again, she received thanks from people who all seemed to want to kick themselves—they were agents.
In their minds, they’d failed while she—an unwilling visitor to the area, an artist, not trained in any way, shape, or form as an investigator—had found the kidnapped girl.
They had not.
But no one seemed angry at her in any way.
They were all just awed and grateful, Mary Richter assured her.
By the time they were done, it was nearly nine a.m., and she wondered if—especially since her parents would now be here the following day—she shouldn’t just put her meeting with Jenson Applegate off a day.
As they left the offices in Colorado Springs and drove out to their ranches, she leaned back against the headrest and closed her eyes.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, fine. Of course. I’m just . . . exhausted. And when I get home, I’m going to go to sleep and deal with anything and everything tomorrow!”
“Good idea,”
he told her.
She opened her eyes and glanced at him. He was grinning.
“What?”
“You said the word home. You said, ‘And when I get home—’”
“Oh, come on! Not fair. Okay, when you get me back to where I’m sleeping!”
she said. She frowned and sat straight, glancing at him.
“You know, I just realized how bad this whole thing really is! What, these guys have hit like six or seven times now? People weren’t hurt at first, things were just stolen, but Chrissie could have died!”
“She could have.”
He shook his head.
“I still can’t believe you insisted we get out there. So many people searched—”
“How do you know that?”
she asked him.
“Are you sure? Maybe it didn’t even occur to anyone! If wouldn’t be that strange if they assumed the kidnappers had taken her somewhere far from her home.”
“Well, as it came up at dinner tonight, this has all been in the news several weeks now. And because Mrs. Dunworth wound up in the hospital and Chrissie was kidnapped, people are always talking about it,”
Wyatt said.
“So, will you do me a favor?”
he asked her.
“Of course,”
she told him.
“I can’t help but be a little worried about you,”
he said.
“Will you call me later and let me know that you’re doing okay?”
She smiled.
“Wyatt, I’ll be doing fine. I’m not the one who was kidnapped.”
“But you’re worried.”
“I’m worried?”
“I’m worried.”
“Ah,”
Jessy murmured, leaning back again and smiling. It was strange. So very strange. She hadn’t seen him in forever, they’d been so much younger.
But now she felt as if . . .
They really had known one another forever. As if years hadn’t gone by. As if they were as close as friends could possibly be, as if . . .
As if there was something special between them. Chemistry. More.
Except that . . .
As close as she felt to him, as attracted as she was to him, there was something . . .
Something he wasn’t telling her.
They reached the Danson ranch. He drew up on the driveway before the front door. She reached for the door handle, and he turned the car off.
She laughed softly.
“Wyatt, we’re here—in front of the door!”
He nodded.
“Sorry, you know my mother! She taught me you always see a lady right to her door.”
“My door is right there.”
“And I’m walking you to it.”
He laughed.
“Hey, come on!”
“Okay, okay, but it’s broad daylight; the hands are all about, I’m sure. People start early at a horse ranch, you know. And I’m sure Samantha is up and about.”
He exited the car and walked around to her door, opening it for her. And he walked up the porch steps with her and waited for her to open the door.
He didn’t leave.
“Wyatt—”
“Step in. I want to see if Samantha is up and about.”
She was.
Samantha came rushing out of the kitchen, smooshing Jessy in a warm hug, pulling away and looking at Wyatt.
“Thank you so much for calling and letting us know what had happened. Of course, now the press has gotten hold of it all and . . . oh, Jessy! It’s amazing. You two saved that young lady! A reporter was at the hospital. They don’t have your names; I was going to call in and tell them who found her—”
“No, no, please!”
Wyatt said. He glanced at Jessy.
“He’s right. Please, we gave law enforcement all that they needed. We don’t want our names associated. Oh! And I talked with my folks. They’re going to be able to make it out here for Christmas, and I don’t want to worry them. I mean . . .”
She paused, glancing at Wyatt again.
“We’re going to need to warn them, just like everyone out here needs to be warned that people are out there, that they’ve now sent a woman to a hospital and nearly killed a girl. But Jessy is right. I think it will be a lot better if we keep any involvement that we had quiet.”
“Of course, of course . . . but our household knows!”
she said.
“And Wyatt McFarlane, if you think you’re not going to tell your parents about this . . .”
“Sam, I will tell my parents, I promise,”
Wyatt told her.
Sam nodded, but she was frowning.
“What the two of you did was heroic! Why wouldn’t you want people to know?”
“There are a few reasons,”
Wyatt said.
“And they are?”
Samantha asked him.
“Those people are still out there. I wouldn’t want them determining we might know more than we do. They’re dangerous, Sam. Let’s not give them any reason to come after the two of us.”
“Okay, okay, I do understand that could be a concern, I guess,”
Samantha said. Her eyes widened.
“Oh! Did she know anything, did that poor girl see anything, does she know who—”
“No. She didn’t know anything at all. They came up behind her. She heard her mother fall, she rushed to the kitchen to see what had happened . . . and they threw a feed bag, probably burlap, over her head. She was overpowered and blinded. They dumped her in an old hole off the property of the house. People searched everywhere—but beneath the ground. Still, Samantha, please . . .”
“I will make sure Cody knows that we are not to say anything at all. Though, if those wretches were to come here, well, we’d give them what-for! Between Cody and the hands—and I bet I can be pretty lethal with a rolling pin—we’d give them bloody hell!”
Jessy glanced at Wyatt, smiling, and saw that he was smiling, too.
Samantha could be tough with all her skinny energy and determination!
“Mom and Dad will be here soon—”
Jessy began.
“Oh! That’s so wonderful. But we don’t have a tree up yet or anything—”
“How about this,”
Wyatt offered.
“I’ll pick Jessy up around four in the afternoon—we both really need some sleep—and we’ll head out and get a tree. You can get Andrews up in the attic during the day to bring down the boxes of ornaments, and we’ll get Christmas all set up here by tomorrow night.”
“Okay, Wyatt, except, between all of us—”
“No, really!”
Wyatt said, smiling at Jessy.
“I’d like to take Jessy to get a tree, and I’d love to be here to help set up. Our place is all done—you know my mom. It’s been done since the day after Thanksgiving. So, Jessy, if it’s okay with you, I’d be honored to go and pick up a tree with you and help get it set up!”
“I, um, sure, of course,”
Jessy said.
She wasn’t sure why he was so determined to see her again.
And she thought she was a fool to be so happy that he did.
This wasn’t home. She’d be leaving. And she sincerely doubted the man planned on following her to New York.
“I’ll pick you up!”
he told her.
“I will be ready by four!”
she promised.
Finally, Wyatt left, warning Samantha that even if Cody and the hands were up and about, they needed to keep the door locked.
Jessy impulsively hugged Samantha and told her.
“I’ve really, truly got to get some sleep!”
“Of course! You get on up there. I’ll just check on you around three-thirty and see that you’re awake,”
Samantha assured her.
“Perfect. And good night. Or good day—or whatever it is now!”
Jessy said.
She ran up the stairs, ready to crash into bed. She didn’t disrobe, she just kicked off her shoes.
She’d had a shower last evening.
Another shower would wait until she’d had some sleep.
But lying there, as exhausted as she was, she didn’t sleep immediately.
There was something about Wyatt . . .
Yes, she felt an incredibly great attraction for him. She’d had a crush on him as a kid. But she was just seeing him again.
And as intense as the night had been . . .
It was frightening.
Frightening to know just how much she wanted to be with him because it was crazy, so very crazy. There was also, she felt, something that he wasn’t telling her.
And not even that seemed to matter.
Then, somewhere in her thoughts, she did close her eyes.
And sleep.
And still . . .
Somehow, the man managed to haunt her dreams.