Chapter 18 Jesse #2
I push the truck harder, taking corners that I probably shouldn’t at speeds that would make my insurance company weep. The trailer behind us fishtails on a particularly sharp turn, but somehow stays upright.
The chase doesn’t last long. We lose them after about ten miles, but that doesn’t make me feel any better about Truett’s condition.
His breathing is getting shallow, and the makeshift bandage I’ve pressed against his shoulder is soaked through with blood. He needs real medical attention, and he needs it now.
I grab my phone with one hand, keeping the other on the wheel as we race through the darkness. I know I shouldn’t be calling her—bringing Aubree further into this mess is the last thing I want to do—but she’s the closest thing we have to medical help.
The phone rings once, twice, three times. Come on, Aubree, pick up.
“Jesse?” Her voice is slightly slurred, and I can hear music and laughter in the background. I recognize the noise. She’s at the Rusty Spur, probably with the girls.
“Aubree, I need your help.” I try to keep the panic out of my voice, but I’m not sure I succeed. “We need help, and we need it quick.”
The background noise fades as she moves somewhere quieter. “What happened? Are you hurt?”
“It’s Truett. He’s been shot, and he’s losing a lot of blood. We’re heading back to the ranch now, but I don’t know if I can get him to a hospital in time.”
There’s a pause, and I can almost hear her mind working. “How bad is it?”
I look over at Truett, whose eyes are closed and whose breathing is getting more labored. “Bad. Really bad.”
“Okay, listen to me. I’m bringing Nora, and we’ll meet you at the ranch. Do you have anything to stop the bleeding?”
“I’ve got pressure on it, but it’s not enough.”
“Keep the pressure on and try to keep him conscious if you can. We’ll be there as soon as possible.”
“Aubree—”
“Don’t,” she cuts me off. “Don’t you dare apologize or try to explain right now. Just get him home alive, you hear me?”
The line goes dead, and I toss the phone aside. Ahead of me, I can see the lights of the other trucks. Carson’s voice crackles through the radio.
“How’s he doing?”
I look over at Truett again. His skin is gray, and there’s blood on his lips now. That’s not a good sign.
“Not good,” I admit. “We need to get to the ranch fast.”
“Copy that. We’re right behind you.”
I didn’t even notice they’ve taken position to keep us safe on the road. The next twenty minutes are the longest of my life. Every time Truett’s breathing gets more shallow, every time his head lolls forward, I’m sure I’m going to lose him. But somehow, he hangs on.
“Stay with me, brother,” I keep saying. “Aubree’s coming. She’s going to fix you right up.”
Truett’s eyes flutter open at the mention of her name. “She shouldn’t…be involved…” he whispers.
“Yeah, well, too late for that now.”
The lights of Grizzly River Ranch finally come into view, and I’ve never been so happy to see home in my life. I can see headlights already in the driveway. Aubree and Nora beat us here.
I pull up right in front of the house, not caring about the gravel I send flying. Carson and the others are right behind me, their trailers still loaded with stolen cattle, but that’s a problem for later.
Aubree comes running out of the house before I even have the truck in park. She’s changed out of whatever she was wearing at the bar into jeans and a sweater, her honey-blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. Behind her, I can see Nora carrying what looks like a medical bag.
“How is he?” Aubree asks as I jump out of the driver’s side.
“Unconscious. Lost a lot of blood.” I run around to the passenger side and carefully open the door. Truett’s head is lolled back against the headrest, and for a terrifying moment, I think we’re too late.
But then I see his chest rising and falling, shallow but steady.
“Help me get him inside,” Aubree says, all business now. The woman who was probably laughing with her friends an hour ago is gone, replaced by someone who knows exactly what needs to be done.
Together, we manage to get Truett out of the truck and into the house. Nora has already cleared off the kitchen table and spread clean towels across it.
“Put him here,” she directs, and we carefully lay Truett down on his back.
Nora immediately starts cutting away his shirt to get a better look at the wound. Her hands are steady and sure, and I’m reminded that although she’s just a vet tech, we all have a lot of different experiences out here in these rural areas.
“The bullet went through,” she says after a quick examination. “That’s good. No need to dig it out. But it nicked something on the way through. He’s lost a lot of blood.”
“Is he going to be okay?” I ask, even though I’m not sure I want to hear the answer.
Nora looks up at me, her deep brown eyes serious but not panicked. “I don’t know yet. But we’re going to do everything we can.”
As she and Aubree get to work, I step back and let them do what they do best. Outside, I can hear Carson and the others unloading the cattle and trying to get them secured. The whole job was a disaster, but at least we got something for our trouble.
But looking down at Truett’s pale face, I can’t help but think that no amount of money is worth this. We should have quit while we were ahead.
The problem is, it might already be too late for regrets.