Texas Rebels: Egan

“It feels good.”

He searched for her sneakers on the floor. The lantern was a few feet away, but he didn’t have time to light it. They had to go. He’d never put shoes on a woman before and found it a chore. “Help me here, and stop scrunching up your toes.”

“I can put them on myself,” she complained.

But he had them on her in seconds and laced them up. He helped her to her feet. “We have to start walking.”

“Didn’t you say we couldn’t walk in the dark?”

“We don’t have any option now. You need a doctor.”

He fished his phone out of the duster and shoved it into a pocket of his jeans. Grabbing his rifle, he ushered her to the door. He didn’t take anything else; it would only slow them down. Once they were outside, he closed the door. They never locked it. There wasn’t a lock, even if he’d wanted to. This far back in the woods, if anyone wanted to break in they’d find a way. Besides, there was nothing valuable in the cabin but memories.

He filled the canteen one more time and looped the strap over his neck and shoulder. “Stay right behind me,” he told her as they started off.

She didn’t answer.

“Rachel?”

“I’m so hot.”

“I know. That’s why we’re walking.”

It had to be about 5:00 a.m. and it was slow going. He’d cut a trail to the cabin a long time ago, but there were still some low-hanging branches and overgrown yaupons. Rachel stayed close behind him and he made sure none of the branches hit her.

The morning was cool. Soon birds began to chirp, so daylight wasn’t far away. Suddenly, Rachel fell into him, and Egan turned quickly to catch her before she injured herself further.

“Uh-oh.”

“It’s okay,” he said, holding her up.

“I’m dizzy and feel sick to my stomach,” she mumbled.

He lifted her into his arms and began to walk at a faster pace. He had to get help soon. As they reached the ridge, the morning sun peeped over the treetops like a golden angel flapping her wings. He began to run. Since he could see clearly, he wasn’t afraid of falling. But after a mile or so he dropped to his knees, needing to rest.

Placing Rachel on the green grass, he took a couple deep breaths and then reached for the canteen. He soaked the cloth and her body with it.

“My leg hurts.”

Her right leg was swollen at the calf. Damn! With his knife, he slit her jeans to ease the pressure. He immediately saw the infected red scratch. He’d missed it. He said another cuss word under his breath.

“I’m floating, Egan. Don’t let me float away.”

He stroked her sweat-soaked hair away from her face. “I won’t. Just hold on, sweet lady. We’re getting close.” Leaning back, he pulled out his phone and checked for a signal. There still wasn’t one.

“I like that.”

“What?”

“Sweet lady.”

He hadn’t even realized he’d called her that. It had just slipped out.

“I like ma’am, too,” she mumbled. “Some women don’t like it. They feel it insults them, but they’ve never heard you say it.”

She was delirious. A long sigh escaped Egan and he got to his feet with Rachel in his arms. The rifle he had to leave behind, because he could no longer carry it. He kept the phone in his hand. Soon he should get a signal. He had to.

* * *

HARDY HOLLISTER TIPTOED down the stairs, careful not to make a sound. The baby and Angie were finally asleep. In the kitchen, he made coffee. His cell buzzed and he started to ignore it, but he was the DA, so he pulled it from his robe. It was his friend Wyatt, the sheriff.

He clicked on. “This had better be good, Wyatt. We’ve been up most of the night with Trey.”

“I remember those days. I’m so glad J.W. sleeps through the night now. It’ll get better.”

“What’s up this early in the morning?”

“Is Rachel coming home for a visit?”

“Not that I’m aware of. I talked to her a few days ago and she didn’t say anything about coming home. Why?”

“I got a call from the highway patrol. A rental car was found at the back of Rebel Ranch, a deeply wooded area with not a house around for miles. The car was rented in Austin to Rachel Hollister on Friday. A suitcase with clothes was in the backseat. Her name is on the tags.”

“What? That doesn’t make any sense.”

Judge Hollister walked into the kitchen, obviously looking for a cup of coffee. “Just a minute,” Hardy said to Wyatt. “Dad, have you talked to Rachel?”

The judge pulled out a chair and sat at the table, sipping the hot brew. “No. She’s mad at me because I chewed her out about not coming home. She probably won’t talk to me for a couple weeks.”

Hardy picked up his cell again. “Dad hasn’t heard from her, either. This doesn’t sound right and it’s not like Rachel to do something like that.”

“I hate to give you any more bad news, but there’s a witness who said he saw a man drag a woman from the car into the woods.”

Hardy’s hand tightened on the phone. “Can he identify the woman?”

“No, but he identified the man.”

“Who.”

“Egan Rebel.”

“Something’s not right, Wyatt. Egan’s a model citizen and I don’t think he knows Rachel.”

“Rachel?” The judge shot to his feet. “What about Rachel?”

“I’m coming in, Wyatt. I just have to get dressed.” Hardy laid his phone down and faced his dad. He told him exactly what Wyatt had said. It wasn’t a time to keep secrets. His father was a strong man.

“Egan Rebel. I sent him to prison years ago. He said he’d get even, and this could be his way of getting back at me. He better not hurt my daughter or he’ll never see the light of day again.”