Trouble With the Law (22 page)

“How’s he doing?” Dave asked gruffly from the driver’s seat.

“I have no idea,” Ronnie replied, making another pass over his dry lips with her thumb.  “I think the bleeding slowed down though.”

If anything was good about the situation,
Trace looked peaceful.  The air of edgy tenseness that always buzzed around Trace Rooks was gone.  At rest, she could almost imagine the charming, easy going guy he used to be was still in there somewhere.

Ronnie gasped when his teeth nipped her thumb.  “I’m not dying, Red,” he said weakly.  “But I feel like shit.  And probably need stitches.”

Relief almost overwhelmed her.  “You’ve been playing possum this whole time?” she asked gruffly pulling her hand away.

“
Maybe for a little while,” he said with a short laugh and a groan.  “Mostly I’ve been trying to stay calm and lower my heart rate, so it didn’t pump blood out of my side like an oil strike.  It feels like we’ve been riding for hours.”

She moved the shirt away from his wound to see that the blood flow had almost stopped, even though the wound gaped open.  He definitely needed stitches.

She covered it again and he flinched.  “Your bedside manner sucks, Shark Lady.”

“You don’t like it?” she asked and pressed the shirt tighter against his side dragging a
nother groan out of him.  “Then don’t get your stupid ass stabbed again.”

The van
came to a wobbly stop, and Dave put it in park.  He got out and slid the side door open.  “I had Caleb and Jamie take the women and the three men we captured back to the lodge in the other two vans.  I thought we’d question the men before we turn them over to the cops.”

“We can’t turn them over to the cops,” Trace said
with a groan as he tried to sit up. 

Ronnie pushed him down again.  “Don’t get up.  We’re going to get Ethan and Joel to help get you inside.”

“We’re here,” Joel said at the door of the van.  Dave moved aside, and Ethan appeared carrying a long narrow board and a kit of some kind.  He leaned the board against the side of the van and hopped inside.

“Hi, I’m Ethan,” he said as he took a pair of thick scissors and sliced open Trace’s shirt up to the neck.  He laid the cloth aside then Ronnie moved the shirt, so he could see the wound.

“Trace Rooks,” Trace hissed as the dark-haired medic probed the wound with his fingers.

“Nice cut you have there, Trace,” Ethan said.  “You hurt anywhere else?”

“A little trouble breathing, but it’s better than it was,” Trace replied.

“How’d you get stabbed?” he asked
, continuing to work.

“Kitchen acc
ident?” Trace replied smartly.

One side of Ethan’s full lips kicked up.  “Those kitchen accidents are the worst.  Should
n’t run with sharp knives you know.”

“Now you tell me,” Trace hissed
when he pushed in on one side of the cut.

Ethan took his vitals, then felt along his skull and neck.  “Any dizziness, confusion, neck or back pain?”

“No.  I didn’t fall, or get hit in the head.  Just stabbed in the side.”

“
Okay, Jenny is inside and can check you out in our sick bay.  She’ll stitch you up.”  He looked back over his shoulder.  “Joel, slide that backboard in here will you?”

Joel
shoved the end toward Ethan and he grabbed and pulled it all the way inside.  Ronnie scooted to the back of the van to give him room to work.  “This is gonna hurt big guy,” Ethan said as he positioned the backboard along Trace’s side.  “Grit your teeth,” he said as he crossed Trace’s arms over his chest.  “I’m going to roll you on your side, so I can slide this under you.”

“I can fucking walk,” Trace
grumbled as he tried to sit up again. 

Ethan shoved his shoulders back down.
  “I’d suggest you cooperate or I’m going to get my wife in here to deal with you.  Trust me, you don’t want that,” Ethan said with a laugh.  Trace heard a woman’s indignant gasp and Ethan chuckled again.  “You know I love you, Roxanne,” he said over his shoulder as he rolled Trace. 

Pain shot across his chest in a white
bolt of agony and Trace couldn’t help but moan.  Cold, hard plastic touched his back as Ethan eased him onto his back again.  The man leaned over him and strapped his shoulders to the board, before repeating the process at his knees.  His side throbbed in time with his heartbeat.  Trace sure wished this guy could give him a shot or something for pain.  Blackness closed in on him, and he didn’t want to pass out again so he fought it.  Ethan turned the backboard and took hold of handles on the bottom, then backed out of the van tugging the board with him.

The bright lights from the porch backlit a beautiful blonde woman.  The lights made her look
like an angel, and he thought maybe he was slipping away after all.  She smiled at him and her kind eyes were comforting.  Trace sighed and closed his eyes.  If he had to go, that wasn’t a bad sight to see last. 

The only thing better would have been if the angel had red hair
and amber eyes.

“Just lay the bed flat and put the board on it,” Terri directed as she ran around the medical shack gathering supplies to help Trace.  Ronnie stood against the far wall watching her and Jenny work.  Ethan sat the big medical kit beside the table then unclipped the straps across Trace’s chest and slid them to the sides. 

“Let’s roll him and I’ll pull the board out,” he said looking at Jenny.

She took Trace’s shoulders and head, and Terri got at his feet and they rolled him.  Ethan jerked the board out from under him and the women laid him back on the table.  Jenny cut the rest of his shirt off and Terri pulled the pieces away.  “We’re going to have to lay him on his right side, so I can sew him up.  But let me check his lungs first,” she said putting her stethoscope against his side to listen intently.

The way these three worked together, Ronnie could almost imagine that they were in a hospital emergency room.  In the small building, they
danced around each other seeming to take every step without thinking.  Trace was lucky to have them helping him.

Jenny listened intently, then her blue eyes narrowed. 
“It sounds like the knife might’ve pierced his lung,” she said with concern in her voice.

“That’s what I thought too,
” Ethan said, then moved the backboard to lean it against the wall beside Ronnie.  “But I don’t think it’s filled,” he added with a glance at Ronnie. 

That was good right?  Not filled must be good
?  Or maybe he meant it wasn’t filled with air?  That wouldn’t be so good.  Fear shot through Ronnie. 

“He’s going to be okay, right?” Ronnie asked
. 

The tremble in her voice surprised her. 
Trace Rooks wasn’t her husband, he wasn’t even her boyfriend.  But the way she felt right now seeing him lying on that table, hearing what they said sure made her feel that way. 

The man had been through enough already
.  Half of what he’d been through was because of her.  He couldn’t die yet.  She had a lot to make up to him.  If he died, she wasn’t going to have the chance to do that.  Ronnie wasn’t going to let him die.  If that took taking him to the hospital, that’s what they would do.  She would just help him deal with the ramifications.  “Does he need surgery?” Ronnie asked. 

Jenny looked over at her.  “I don’t think so.  He’s lost a good bit of blood, and could probably use a pint, but the knife just pierced his lung.  It should heal on its own once we suture him up
,” She looked at Joel’s wife.  “Terri can you get me a suture kit?” she asked then looked at Terri’s brother.  “Ethan can you help me debride and clean the wound?”

“Sure,” he said and they went to work preparing the area for stitches.

“Does he need blood?” Ronnie asked grabbing her arm.  She hated giving blood, but would do it to save Trace.  “I’m type O positive, so I can give him some.  Isn’t that universal?”  When she gave at the last blood drive, that’s what she’d been told.

“Yeah, he could probably use some, but we don’t have anything to collect it with,” Jenny replied without looking up.
  “And I don’t know what type he is.  Since you’re positive Rh, that could cause problems if he’s negative.  I’d rather be conservative.  I don’t think he lost enough blood volume to be critical,” Jenny informed.  She looked up and met Ronnie’s eyes.  “Thanks for offering though.  You did a good job keeping his bleeding under control, by the way.”

Ronnie laughed. 
“That’s about the only thing I remembered from the first aid class I took in high school.” 

Jenny and Ethan rolled Trace to his uninjured side, draped paper around the wound and taped it in place.  When Jenny picked up
a syringe of medicine and started poking around in the wound, evidently anesthetizing the area, the whole room moved in front of Ronnie’s eyes.  Cold sweat formed on her forehead, and she knew it was time for her to get out of there.  Her stomach seesawed and she said, “Um, I’ll just wait outside.” 

Stumbling outside, she ran into Dave at the door.  “Whoa, you okay?  Your face is white as a sheet,” he said with concern.

“I’m fine, just worried about Trace.”  He put his arm around her shoulders and led her down the steps and they stood at the porch railing in the light.  “Thank you for all you did out there tonight,” she said.

“I’m glad I got involved,” Dave said.  “Trace Rooks is tough, but if he went out there alone, it wouldn’t have ended well.”

“It still might not end well,” Ronnie said and her chin dropped to her chest.  She still wasn’t convinced that Trace wouldn’t die.  And if one of those women they rescued tonight died at the lodge, they would have a lot of explaining to do.  “Trace isn’t out of the woods, and those women didn’t look to be in good shape either.  If one of them dies at the lodge, we’ll have more trouble than we can shake a stick at.”

“
We’ll cross that bridge if and when we come to it,” Dave said, with a squeeze to her shoulders.  “Don’t borrow trouble, sugar.”

“Easily said.  So much could happen.  I don’t want Trace to go back to jail. 
One of those men you shot tonight could die.  You could be in hot water too.”

“Don’t worry about me, or Rooks.  He’ll pull through this and I know you’ll make sure
neither one of us goes back to jail.”

“
Things keep getting more and more complicated by the minute.  Who the hell knows I might wind up in jail before this is over too,” Ronnie said with a shake of her head. 

It was the truth.  She was just as involved in what happened out there tonight, as the rest of them were. 
Two men were probably dead out there in that field.  Another one had been injured by her.  Now they were basically holding the surviving Coyotes hostage at the cabin.  Conner could be dragged into the mess too, if the feds raided the lodge and found them there.  And his family would too.  She couldn’t let that happen.

“
What are we going to do with those men you brought to the lodge?” 

“Those men know who sent them out there
to pick up those women tonight.  They’re going to tell us who did that and if it was Mr. Ray Brown they’re going to tell us where we can find him.  Caleb and Jamie are interrogating them now.”

“What then?”

“We go meet Ray Brown, and turn them all over to the police.”

“Won’t they ask questions?
  Can’t those men identify us?”

“Nope
.  I told Jamie and Caleb to keep their masks on, and I talked to Beau Bowman with the Texas Rangers.  Once we’re finished with them, he is going to take them into custody.  The Rangers and feds want Ray Brown so badly, they won’t care who caught him.  I told Beau I got a tip and was following up on it.  I don’t think Ray or those men will mention the women they were trafficking.  If they do they’ll just buy themselves more charges.”

In a perfect world, t
hat could work.  But right now, Ronnie’s world was far from perfect.  Trouble seemed to be following them around every turn.  But Ronnie trusted Dave Logan more than she trusted just about anyone.  She knew no matter what, Dave would protect them.  He wouldn’t let anyone know that Trace was alive, or what she was doing to try and help him.  He was one man she’d never want to have to cross-examine on the witness stand.  His flat effect and poker face were definitely daunting.

A well-dressed older woman walked up to the medical shack.  Once she moved into the porch light, Ronnie
recognized it was Allison Rooks and could see she was crying.  Beside her was a stone-faced blonde cowgirl holding her arm. 

“Watch your step, Mrs. Rooks,” the cowgirl said
seeming to hold the woman up.

Allison Rooks sure looked a lot different than the last time Ronnie had seen her at Trace’s sentencing.  Even as upset as she obviously was
right now, the woman had made changes to her appearance that were nothing short of striking.  She was beautiful.  Evidently getting away from Leland Rooks had been good for her.

“Ronnie?” Terri said from the doorway of the medical shack and she turned to face the shorter dark-haired nurse.