Delivering Justice

“Sheriff said no one called in an emergency or missing person’s report,” Russ said.

Tyler feared as much.

“Said he’ll meet her at the hospital since he’s tied up on another interview right now,” Russ continued.

If no one was looking for her, then Tyler had to consider other possibilities for those tire tracks.

“Much appreciated,” he said to Russ. “Have someone ready to take Digby from me so I can head to the hospital as soon as I get back to the barn. And send out a search team in the chopper to make sure there’s no one out here lost.”

Tyler thanked Russ before ending the transmission and starting the journey back toward the redheaded mystery. He couldn’t completely ignore the fear that he’d return to a lifeless body. She’d been upright and responsive so he’d take those as positive signs. Being away from her while she was vulnerable had his blood pressure spiking faster than a pro volleyball player. He picked up his pace, needing to see for himself that she was still okay.

At the faster speed, he crested Diablo’s Rock in half the time. Part of him wondered if she could have managed to crawl away. She’d seemed determined and half-scared out of her wits—a combination that could be dangerous—or deadly—and left him wondering what really had her so freaked out.

He found her right where he’d left her. His pulse had slowly wound back to a decent clip when he saw that she was still conscious. And yet something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on was eating away at him. What was the creepy, fire-ants-crawling-on-his-spine feeling about anyway?

Danger, for one thing, in the form of poachers. Sure, there were poachers in South Central Texas. People looked for trophies and illegally hunted on the large ranches in the area, which created a dangerous situation for all involved.

The O’Briens worked diligently to keep the land free of people who trespassed to hunt or steal game, so that risk should be minimal. If it wasn’t poachers, then what was it? The fact that so many things didn’t add up?

A beautiful single woman alone on a four-wheeler in territory she didn’t know and wasn’t dressed for? Yep. That made about as much sense as a deer eating barbeque.

“Help is on the way,” he said, trying to give her hope to hold on to, wishing he could do more. He knelt next to her and opened his medical supply kit.

“Thank you,” she managed to get out.

“My apologies if this hurts.” It was going to hurt. That gash on her forehead was deep and had him worried. He poured clean water over it and then dabbed antibiotic ointment onto an oversize gauze bandage, pressing it to her forehead to stem the bleeding. She seemed determined not to give in to the pain. Or maybe she was just too weak.

It didn’t take long for the cavalry to arrive. Tyler heard the chopper moving toward them before he got a visual on it. A helicopter was the only logical choice for rescue workers to use in order to access this part of the land. Otherwise, they’d have to take her on one helluva bumpy ride to get her to a main road, and that could jeopardize her condition.

Tyler saw the chopper moments before the pilot landed.

From there, it was only twenty yards to reach him and Red. The land was flat enough to manage easily on foot.

As emergency personnel neared, the mystery woman squeezed Tyler’s hand.

He glanced at her and saw that same look of fear in her eyes. What was that all about? Didn’t she realize this was the help she needed?

Depending on how bad that blow to the head was, she might not recognize them as the people who would help her. That had Tyler more worried than when he’d found her. Just how badly injured was she?

The blow she’d taken to the head looked bad. He’d give anyone that. But her panic looked like she was in one of those horror flicks being chased by an ax murderer.

“It’s okay. I know these men. They’ll take care of you,” he tried to reassure her. Tyler had known the EMTs, Andy and Shanks, for years. They were good guys. Dougherty would be piloting the chopper. Tyler didn’t need to see him to know that.

So what was up with the way she kept squeezing his hand, looking like she was trying to say something?

Chapter Two (#ulink_ab97611e-baa3-5ecf-8645-eaa466cfb9af)

The heel of Tyler’s boots clicked against the white tile floor in the hospital hallway as he neared room 367 to check on Red.

He removed his gray Stetson before crossing the threshold, pausing long enough to finger comb his hair and chew on the facts. No one had reported the mystery redhead as missing or reported the accident. That had not been the news he was expecting and it made him worry that some other outsider was on his property, hurt, lost or just a damned fool who was hunting illegally and ditched the redhead when her ATV overturned. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on had his radar on full alert and it was more than just finding her in the condition he had.

Tyler pushed open the door at Bluff General and walked inside Red’s room. Her eyes were closed. The bed had been raised so that she was halfway sitting and she had an IV attached to her left arm. He’d seen enough of the inside of hospital rooms to know the IV most likely contained fluids and possibly antibiotics to stem infection. All good things that her body needed to recover.

In fact, the fluids seemed to be working magic already because there was a rosy hue in the creamy complexion on her cheeks now. Her forehead had a proper bandage on it and his makeshift head wrap had been replaced with clean, white gauze.

Since she looked to be resting peacefully and he didn’t want to disturb her, he figured this would be a good time to visit with her doctor and find Tommy to see if he’d managed to get a statement or put a name to Sleeping Beauty here.

Her eyes fluttered open and he felt like a fool for staring at her.

“How are you?” he asked, for lack of anything better to say. Even through the gauze and tape she was stunning.

“Better,” she managed to squeak out. Her throat sounded scratchy. It was the dry air.

He set his cowboy hat down on the chair and moved next to her bed. Now that she seemed able to speak, maybe he could find out if there were others on his land or if he should call off the search.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

She made a move to speak but coughed instead. Her gaze locked onto a large white mug situated on the wheeled table next to her bed just out of reach.

“You thirsty?” he asked as he moved to the mug.

“Yes, please” came out on a croak.

At least she was talking and making sense. Those were good signs.

“Were you alone earlier?” he asked as he held the oversize mug filled with ice water toward her. She eagerly accepted but didn’t answer.

After a few small sips, she leaned her head against the pillow, but her eyes never left Tyler’s face. Those sea-green eyes stayed fixed on him, panic and fear still there.

“Do you know who you are?” he asked, setting the mug down on the tray and then repositioning it so that she could reach water whenever she wanted.

“Jennifer,” she said, throat still scratchy but sounding much better. Her voice had a nice pitch to it. “Who are you?”

“Tyler O’Brien. My brothers and I own the land you were on earlier.”

Her gaze darted toward the door and then her eyes widened in fear, so Tyler turned to follow her line of sight.

A decent-looking man in his early thirties walked in. His gaze ricocheted between Jennifer and Tyler. He was several inches shorter, so Tyler guessed he was around five foot eleven. He was on the thin side, built like a runner, and had sandy-blond hair. A fresh-looking pink sunburn dotted his tanned nose and cheeks.

Tyler didn’t recognize him.

“Honey,” the man said with a sigh and he seemed to pour on the drama if anyone asked Tyler. “I’ve been so worried about you.”

Tyler glanced at Jennifer in time to see a moment of sheer panic, so he stepped in between them, blocking Tan Face’s path.

“Name’s Tyler.” He stuck out his hand.

“What happened to you, honey? Are you all right?” Tan Face said, sidestepping Tyler and his hand.