Ms. Patti gave herself a couple of minutes to have a small pity party, long enough to feel sorry for herself, and realize she was an idiot. Somehow, she needed to get her purse, which held the keys to the truck, and get outside. Glancing around the shed, her eyes landed on the abandoned shovel leaning forlornly against the wooden wall. It would work as a type of hiking stick, something she could use for support to get her to the truck. Fortunately, Liam’s new baby had an automatic transmission, so she’d be able to maneuver a bit and work the pedals with her left foot, because one way or another, she needed to get out of this decrepit shed and back to civilization.
Pretty sure her ankle wasn’t broken, but there was definitely a serious sprain happening, and the first place she’d head was to the doctor’s office. With Beth’s party coming up tomorrow, she wasn’t about to let a little thing like a sprained ankle keep her from celebrating the upcoming birth of her grandson.
First though, she needed to get to the shovel. After a bit of trial and effort, she figured out it was either try to scoot across the plywood floor an inch at a time or do a modified type of army crawl on her belly. Yep, belly crawl for the win. She wasn’t about to add splinters in her tush to the list of ailments when she saw the doc. Her backside was probably already covered with bruises from the earlier fall. She wasn’t looking forward to explaining her stupid stunt of jumping for a light cord because she was so dang short. There was only so much humiliation a gal could take in one day.
Rolling onto her stomach, she managed to cover about a foot’s distance before realizing she had a bigger problem. The shifted plywood had uncovered a huge hole beneath the shed. Unfortunately, it had uncovered something else a bit more sinister. A distinct rattling sound drifted up from the hole, and she froze. She knew exactly what that sound meant, and she didn’t want to come face-to-face with its owner.
The door appeared a thousand miles away, but she was no quitter. Raising a whole houseful of boys from adolescence to adulthood taught her to persevere and have ingenuity. The bigger question was what Douglas would do, because he always—always—came up with the right answer.
“Douglas, this would be a great time for you to swoop in like a knight in shining armor and save the damsel in distress.” She laughed, picturing her tall, handsome husband wearing a suit of armor and strolling through the doorway of the dilapidated shed. Cocking her head to the side, she shrugged at the image. “Works for me.”
The shovel still out of reach, she stretched out, reaching toward the rake. It looked like it was a few inches closer anyway. Her fingertips touched the metal tines, and the rake inched closer, though not enough to easily grasp it. Her fingers brushed against it again, and she scooched a smidge closer to it, listening intently for the rattling sound. Nothing. Didn’t mean the snake had moved on, simply that it had settled down—for the moment.
Finally able to wrap her hand around the rake, she yanked it toward her, breathing heavily. She still had to figure out how to get to the other side of the shed, grab her purse and her phone, and hightail it to the truck. Wouldn’t be easy, because her ankle was throbbing with every pulse beat, but she wasn’t about to stay here a minute longer than she had to. Nope, not with a rattler underneath the shed and time rapidly slipping past. She wasn’t about to be stuck here after dark. Nobody knew she’d stopped to check out the property on her way to meet the ladies for the party preparation. They wouldn’t know to look for her here. She’d printed out all the information from her home computer and had shut it down after she finished. Not the brightest move, but more habit than anything. She always turned off her home computer when she was finished working.
Her thoughts drifted to her daughter-in-law, the whole reason for the surprise baby shower. Beth was due any day now. Patti couldn’t wait for the baby to be born. A new generation of Boudreaus to carry on the family name. Like most of her sons, Brody had legally changed his name to Boudreau as soon as he could after he turned eighteen. It had become quite the family tradition, with Rafe being the first to want to be claimed as a Boudreau. Though she loved Jamie with her whole heart, there was something about being there when a new baby came into the world, being a part of its life from the very beginning, and she was ready to spoil her new grandson rotten. All part of a grandmother’s duty and responsibility.
“Yo, in the house. Anybody here?”
At first she wondered if she was hallucinating. Hearing things, or people, who weren’t really there, but just in case, she wasn’t about to let them leave, not without trying to get their attention.
“I’m here,” she shouted as loud as she could, hoping and praying whoever was there would hear her. “Help, please!”
“Who’s there? And where are you?”
“The shed. I’m in the shed. I’m stuck.”
“Hang on, I’m coming, ma’am.”
The sound of thudding feet pounding against the dry earth coming close had her heart racing. Didn’t matter who it was, at least somebody was outside who could help her get outta this shed and back to Liam’s truck. When the door to the shed flew open, a body was silhouetted against the bright sunshine.
“Are you okay, ma’am?” When he stepped forward into the shed, she realized she didn’t recognize him. Standing about five foot eleven or thereabouts, it was hard to tell since she was sitting on her backside on the plywood flooring. He had light to medium brown hair. In the low light of the shed, she couldn’t see what color his eyes were, but his expression was a mixture of concern and curiosity. Probably around the same age as her sons, so late twenties to maybe early thirties. Whoever he was, he wasn’t local to Shiloh Springs, or if he was, he’d just moved there. Either way, she was glad to see him.
Gesturing toward her ankle, she answered his question. “Not really doing great. Twisted it something fierce. Can’t put any weight on it. Think you can help me out to my truck?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh, and can you hand me my purse and my phone? I need to call my husband, let him know I’m okay. I’m surprised he hasn’t called out the cavalry or organized a search party yet.” She smiled at the other man’s confused look. “He’s a tad overprotective.”
“Gotcha.” He picked up her purse and handed it to her, then reached for her phone. “I don’t think you’re going to be making any calls with this.” He turned the screen toward her, and she frowned at the shattered screen. Darn it, he was right, she doubted it would even turn on.
“Let’s get you out of here and someplace where you can get that ankle taken care of ASAP.”
She sighed as he slid his arms beneath her thighs and under her back, lifting her with ease, and she clutched her purse in one hand and her shattered phone in the other as he turned and headed for the door.
“Be careful. I heard a rattler under the shed, and I don’t know if there might be more around.”
He froze for a few seconds before continuing to walk out of the building. She raised her face toward the sun, feeling the warmth on her skin. Drawing in a deep breath, she turned her head and got her first good look at her rescuer. She was right; she didn’t recognize him, but he did seem somehow familiar. Maybe she’d seen him in town and hadn’t paid a lot of attention.
“Thank you again for your help, Mister…” She deliberately trailed off, waiting for him to fill in the blank.
“Ferguson. Stan Ferguson.”
“I’m Patricia Boudreau, but most folks around here call me Ms. Patti.”
He stopped walking and looked down at her. Suddenly, a huge grin spread across his face, and he chuckled. “You’re Ms. Patti? I’ve heard quite a bit about you since I got here. It seems you’re an institution in Shiloh Springs, at least according to my mother.”
“Your mother?”
“Beverly Ferguson. She and my dad own a place just down the road.” He jerked his chin to the left, though it wasn’t necessary. Beverly and her spouse had lived in Shiloh Springs for years and attended the same church as the Boudreaus. She knew them well; they’d been out to the Big House numerous times. William had been a county judge, and he’d just recently retired, though he was still full of energy. He’d told her they planned to travel once Beverly retired from her school board position, which was still several months away.
“I know Beverly and William. How’s she doing?”
Stan drew in a deep breath and kept walking toward the front porch of the house. “Not so good at the moment. Dad’s in the hospital over in Santa Lucia, and she’s staying there while the docs try and figure out what’s wrong with him. She called and asked me to come keep an eye on their place, take care of the animals and such, while he’s in the hospital.”
“Oh, no. Is there anything I can do?”
Stan shook his head. “I think you’re gonna have your hands full taking care of yourself, Ms. Boudreau. That looks like a nasty sprain you’ve got there. Doubt you’ll be doing much of anything except sitting with your leg elevated for a few days. I’d like to get it wrapped before heading into town, if you don’t mind. I’m an EMT in Amarillo, at least in my day job, when I’m not shoveling manure out of my mother’s stalls.” His grin had her smiling back, though the pain in her ankle was throbbing worse than any toothache. Every step he took was agonizing for her, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out.
“If you could get me to my truck, I can—”
“No can do, Ms. Boudreau. What I’m gonna do is this. I am going to take you to the front porch of this house and get some medical supplies out of my trunk.” He nodded toward a dark blue sedan parked not far from her truck. “I’m going to wrap your ankle and then we’re going to get you to a hospital.”
“I don’t think a hospital is necessary, Mr. Ferguson.”
“Stan.”
“I think I’ll be okay if we go to the emergency clinic. Doc Jennings can do x-rays and call Douglas, my husband, or one of my boys to pick me up.”
“Doc Jennings? I thought he retired, and you had somebody new running things, at least that’s what my mom said. Tell you what, Ms. Boudreau. Let me get a better look at your ankle. If it’s only a sprain, we’ll go with your plan. If it looks like there might be torn ligaments or there’s the possibility of it being broken, we’ll head to the hospital. Deal?”
She huffed out a breath. “Deal.”
Reaching the porch, he gently lowered her onto the top step. She couldn’t hide her wince of pain as her foot landed on the second step. Glancing down, she noted the darkening bruises, along with the massive swelling. Maybe Stan was right, and she needed to head to the emergency room.
“Give me a second, I’ll be right back.”
“No problem.”
Sprinting toward his car, he popped the trunk, pulled out a red canvas bag, and headed back toward her. Kneeling down in front of her, he started to reach for her ankle, but waited until she nodded her approval. Better to get it over with than prolong the inevitable. He kept his touch light and professional, but when he moved her ankle, she barely bit back a scream at the pain that shot through her foot.
“I’m sorry, I know it hurts. Hang in there, I’m almost done, and then I’ll secure it with some athletic sports tape I have to keep it stable until we can get you looked at, okay?”
She nodded, afraid if she unclenched her jaw, she’d be screaming at the top of her lungs. Not only did she hurt, but she was embarrassed for doing something so foolish, so stupid. Maybe she deserved to hurt after pulling a dumb stunt like jumping for a light cord. She should have known better. She wasn’t a spring chicken anymore, more like the old gray goose. And if Douglas heard her talking like that, he’d straighten her out quick. She smiled at the thought.
Stan finished wrapping the athletic tape around her ankle, and she had to admit it felt better. At least she didn’t feel like she had burning hot knives being shoved into her with every movement.
“That feels better. Thank you.”
“Good. Now, I’m going to carry you to the car, and we’ll get you sorted out in no time, Ms. Boudreau.”
“I think you’d best call me Ms. Patti, since you’re doing me a huge favor by rescuing me. You’re a regular knight in shining armor, Stan. A hero.”
Color flooded his cheeks at her words, and she wondered if he wasn’t used to being complimented. She would’ve thought Beverly would dote on her son, but then again neither Beverly nor William spoke about Stan. Yes, she knew they had one child, a son, but from what she could remember they were estranged and had been for a long time. He hadn’t moved with them to Shiloh Springs all those years ago, so the rift was a longstanding one. With everything that had been going on with her boys and their women lately, she hadn’t had time to catch up with her friends. Maybe they’d mended fences, and that’s why Beverly called him to help out while William was in the hospital. She made a mental note to get in touch with Beverly as soon as possible, to see if there was anything she needed.
“I assure you, ma’am, I’m nobody’s hero. I’m the farthest thing from heroic of anybody you’ve ever met.” His gaze met hers, steady and unwavering. “But I’m trying. Taking things one day at a time, because I want to be the person, the man, my family deserves.”
“Well, today, you are my hero, Stan. Now, let’s get out of here. I’ve got places to go and a baby shower to finish plans for.”
He eased her onto the car seat and gently helped her lift her injured leg into the car. While there was a twinge of pain, she didn’t have the sharp agony like earlier.
“You rest, Ms. Boudreau—Ms. Patti—” he amended at her squinty-eyed look, and added, “The doctors will have you good as new in no time.”
“Thank you, Stan. Oh, can I borrow your cell phone? I want to let my husband know where I’m at before he rounds up all my sons to look for me.”
“Um, about that, I left it at my mother’s place. I didn’t realize I hadn’t stuck it in my pocket until about half an hour ago. Sorry.”
Darn. Oh well, surely Douglas wouldn’t worry yet. He knew she was going to be with the ladies, getting things ready for Beth’s baby shower. They probably hadn’t even missed her yet. One quick phone call when she got to Doc Jennings’ emergency clinic and the crisis would be averted. Leaning her head back against the headrest, she closed her eyes, the soothing motion of the tires against the asphalt lulling her into a dreamless sleep within minutes.
Douglas fought against the pool of fear that had settled deep inside him after Rafe’s call. One of his greatest fears was losing his precious wife. The simple thought of her not being in his life? Inconceivable. You might as well stick a knife in his chest and finish him, because there would be no going on without her.
Climbing into the cab of his work truck, he gunned the engine, and pointed the hood toward town, praying for all he was worth. He drew in a deep breath, knowing he needed to stay calm, not aggravate his blood pressure. After his health scare earlier this year, where they’d thought he’d had a heart attack, the doc had placed specific demands in place—including not allowing himself to get overexcited. But how’d he expect him to remain calm when his wife wasn’t able to be located?
Stomping his foot down harder on the accelerator, he watched the needle on the speedometer climb ever upward. He didn’t care, his one concern, his one focus was finding his Patricia.
Scenes from their life together seemed to play through his thoughts. He could remember the day he’d met her. The moment he’d seen her something had broken loose inside him, and he’d felt freer than he’d ever felt before. The feelings he’d had for another woman, one he’d thought he’d loved, disappeared in an instant, because he couldn’t see anybody but Patricia Mackenzie with her glorious blonde hair and blue eyes. She’d stolen his breath with their first meeting, and still did to this day.
Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that settled over him like a shroud. He refused to believe he wouldn’t find her. And she’d swat his arm the way she always did, and fuss because everybody had been worried. Hoped against hope it was simply a dead cell phone. Or she’d run out of gas. Or she was helping somebody in town and simply hadn’t thought about contacting anybody.
Except she would’ve called someone. His beautiful wife wouldn’t have left the ladies hanging without letting them know she would be late. For her not to show up? Every worst-case scenario raced through his mind, and didn’t that scare him half to death? Shiloh Springs was a safe place. Didn’t have the kind of crimes seen mostly in the bigger cities, but more and more people were moving into the area. Drugs and guns moved across the border with increasing frequency. No matter how hard they worked to keep their town a haven for its citizens, bad stuff happened.
But not to his wife. Not his Patricia.
His gaze strayed to his cell, beside him on the seat. Grabbing it up, he punched the speed dial for his wife. Listened to the ringing and sighed when it switched to voice mail.
“Honey, the boys are getting worried coz they can’t get hold of you. Gimme a call, so I can set their minds at ease.” He paused for a moment before adding, “Mine too. Love you.”
Disconnecting the call, he immediately dialed Rafe.
“Dad.”
“Have you heard anything yet?”
Please say yes. Please say you’ve heard from your momma and she’s fine and this has all been a colossal misunderstanding and she’s waiting for me to reach town.
“Sorry, Dad. I’m contacting my brothers and we’re organizing a search party. We will find her, I promise.”
Douglas drew in a deep breath, and eased up on the accelerator as he drew closer to town. Traffic was getting thicker, and as much as he wanted to shove the pedal to the floor, he refused to put other lives in danger.
“Where do you need me, son? I’m on the outskirts of town now, so I can meet you wherever you need.”
“Can you think of anyplace Momma mentioned going? An errand she meant to run? Somebody she’d planned to visit with and had put off?”
“Not that I can think of. Wait, she did mention a couple of days ago that she wanted to check on Edna. Said she’d been down with the flu, and she wanted to stop by and see if she needed help at the bed and breakfast. You think she might have stopped there on her way to the bakery?”
“I’m thinking we should check any possibilities. I’ve got a lead and I’m headed in the opposite direction, so why don’t you plan to head over to the B&B and see if Momma stopped by there?”
Hope blossomed inside Douglas’ chest. At least he had someplace to start. The not knowing, feeling so helpless had been eating away at him like an insidious cancer, and he latched onto the possibility he might find his wife at the B&B.
“I’m on it, son. I’ll call you as soon as I get there. You hear anything, though, you call me. Immediately.” He made his tone firm, resolute. Making sure there was no misunderstanding, he wasn’t about to be left out of the search process. Patricia was his wife, and he meant to be there when they found her.
“I’ll call, Dad. Stay safe.”
“You too.”
“Love you, Dad. We’ll find her.”
Douglas felt the wetness behind his lids and cleared his throat to be able to speak past the sudden lump there.
“Love you, too, Rafe. Always.”
Disconnecting the call, Douglas started praying again.