He grabbed his keys and revved the motor in his Jeep. His tires squealed, sending gravel in all directions. The breeze chilled his sweat-drenched shirt. He headed down the back roads, driving without regard for his life; he sure as hell hoped everyone else was watching out for theirs. He pulled into the parking lot for the lake and Claire’s car wasn’t there. His heart fell. Just a few nights ago, she’d tempted him past sanity into a fantasy world right there. Where was she now?
He slowed his car. She might go to their old hideout. Down the utility road, he floored it toward a spot they had frequented before things had gotten so complicated. This was the place where he’d learned to make her blush and catch her breath. He’d also learned that his heart had a mind of its own when she smiled at him. This was the place where he’d lost his heart to her. And never once, ever, had he wanted it back.
“Jesus Christ.” Her car was there. He mouthed a prayer of thanks.
He couldn’t think what he’d say. Beg, plead, demand. Shit, he didn’t have a clue. He pulled up beside her car but there was no one inside. The windows were rolled down. She might be somewhere by the shore.
Hadn’t they walked many nights down there by the water’s edge? He got out of his Jeep and scanned the shore. It was dark and he didn’t see a soul. He exhaled and a nagging chill slithered up along his spine.
He cupped his hands and shouted. “Claire!”
“Dustin?” His heart hammered. It was Claire’s voice. Faint. Or his imagination. Why couldn’t he see her?
“Claire, where are you?”
“Dustin, I’m…here…Dustin.”
Sweet Mary, his blood froze. “I’m walking down to the shore. I don’t see you.” And then he did. Her hair reflected the moonlight. She wasn’t standing but was seated. He ran down the path, picking up speed, nearing her. She reached out to him. Why didn’t she stand?
“What’s wrong?”
“My ankle.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. He saw the chain and then he was down next to her on the ground. The trap was spring loaded and more than likely set for beavers. If he lost his grip, it would slam back against her leg, biting deeper into flesh and bone.
“This is what we’re going to do. I’m going to open the trap. You’ll need to use your hands to lift your leg up and out. Get all your body parts away. People have been known to get one part out only to have another part caught. We’ll do this on three. Lift when I say go. Are you ready?”
“Yes. On go.”
“One. Two. Three.” He pried the jaws open and placed his fingers between the tines. If he lost his grip his hands would take the bite. “Claire, lift your leg. Now, baby, go.”
She gasped. Claire moved her ankle beyond the trap. Dustin eased his fingers from between the razor-sharp tines. When he was sure Claire was far enough away from the trap, he let go. It snapped shut with a whooshing resound. He wiped the sweat off his forehead.
Dustin moved next to Claire and put his arm around her. “I’m so sorry you’re hurt. We need to get you to a hospital. I’m going to carry you to the car.”
She sobbed into his chest. “You found me.”
He wrapped his arms around her. He closed his eyes. His chest expanded and contracted. “Let me get you to the car.” His voice came out a thick rumble.
He picked her up, cradling her body.
She was shivering, and he pressed her against his chest, trying to impart some warmth from him into her body. She folded her arms over her chest and buried her faced against him. He wanted to talk to her, to convince her he hadn’t done anything to violate her trust. But it wasn’t the time—she was in pain. He’d wait until she was well instead of burdening her by seeking forgiveness when she was injured.
* * *
Inside the emergency room, Claire was given several shots of antibiotics and tetanus before starting on an IV. The nurses washed her wounds, and the physician stitched three deep gashes. Her ankle was X-rayed and bandaged.
The doctor said she’d have no permanent damage but would not be walking for several days. He said to expect to be in discomfort for at least two weeks.
She lay against the pillows while Dustin wiped her face with a warm washcloth. She reached up and touched his face. “Thank you for rescuing me.”
He held her hand, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. He raised her hand to his lips. She smiled at him.
“I’ll never let you out of my sight again. If you let me.”
She gazed at him, her heart nearly breaking. Of course it would be him who came and saved her. Isn’t that how this story was supposed to end? Her chest heaved. Even exhausted and in pain, she could see this wasn’t his fault. She’d been jealous of Fran. And more than that, she was hurt that her own sister continued to do things that were downright mean. She was ready to let go of this sibling struggle. If Fran couldn’t be the type of sister she deserved, then she’d learn to accept Fran’s decision. She wasn’t about to give Fran the power to ruin her second chance with Dustin.