A Bridge Unbroken (A Miller's Creek Novel) (32 page)

It was well past one in the morning when the last light in the house went off, leaving Chance with the part of the long, sleepless nights he dreaded most. He grimaced as he swallowed, suddenly aware of a dry tickle and ache in his throat, immediately followed by a sneeze that rattled his brain.

This wasn't good at all. In fact, he couldn't think of a worse time for him to get sick.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

A
ray of morning sunlight made its way through the lace curtains and scattered a lovely pattern across the bed as Dakota yawned, stretched, and glanced at the clock. Already eight a.m.? How long had it been since she'd slept so late?

Though she'd had a little trouble falling asleep, it hadn't been as bad as she'd suspected after her fears yesterday had burgeoned to elephantine proportions. Poor Chance. He'd tried to assuage her fears last night, but to no avail. Instead of listening, of trying to let things go, she'd gone on a rampage, like a she-version of the Tasmanian Devil, working on various projects until past midnight when she'd stopped to do a little writing.

A smile lit her face, and she blinked drowsily. At least her rampage had resulted in most of the small inside projects being completed. Today she'd do better about not letting her fears take over, even if she had to read through her scripture cards a million times.

She stumbled downstairs for breakfast and Bible study, then traipsed back upstairs to don some work clothes. With just one step out the front door, the familiar nagging sensation returned.
Okay, Dakota, that's enough. Just get on with your work, and quit being so paranoid.

Dakota quickened her step, Daisy at her side, and made her way to the barn. Mid-morning she stepped back to view her work with a feeling of satisfaction. She'd managed to clean up all the debris for a trip to the garbage dump. Once Chance arrived after his last-minute half-day shift, they could get one more thing crossed off the list.

A frown wrinkled her brow. Where was Daisy?

She inserted her thumb and index finger in the corners of her mouth and gave a shrill whistle, but with no results. That was odd. The dog always came when called. Maybe she'd gone to the creek.

Dakota set off through the overgrown pasture toward the bridge, the warmth of the sun on her head and back. She breathed in deep, suddenly happy and secure. "Daisy!"

Nothing. No happy bark. No pounding through the grass.

She reached the bridge. Still no sign of Daisy. Dakota walked onto the planks and leaned against the railing to search the creek banks. "Daisy!" The tall grass rustled behind her, and she whirled around. "There you are, D--"

It wasn't Daisy who stood before her, but her new neighbor. What was his name? The guy with really clean hands for a backwoods Texan.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you." He smiled and stepped toward her.

Her pulse exploded in her throat and moved to her ears and temples. Out here in the middle of nowhere with nothing to protect herself. No weapon. No Daisy.
Keep cool, Dakota. Use your brain.

"I see y'all finished the bridge."

"Yes." She backed away slightly, to keep a distance between them. "I'm sorry. I don't remember your name." Her gaze strayed to his hands. Still clean in spite of his scruffy face, a fact that still didn't compute.

"Vincent. Your boyfriend at work?" He moved a bit closer, so she backed up again.

"No." Where was he going with this? "But he should be here soon." Would the ploy work?

He nodded. "Y'all have been doing quite a bit of work on that old house."

"Yes sir."

"I'm surprised a young woman like you would want to live way out here."

Okay, this guy was giving her the heebie-jeebies. "Not at all. I have my dog and my work."

"Pretty dog. Real friendly. Didn't I hear you calling her earlier?"

No way she would answer that question in this situation. "Well, it was nice seeing you again, Vincent, but I've got to go get lunch ready before Chance gets off work. Bye." She waved over her shoulder as she stepped away.

One step. Two. Three.

"Bye."

Dakota turned back to smile at him. Thankfully, he'd stayed in place, though it was more than a little creepy that he just stood there, staring.

Four. Five. Six.

When she reached ten steps and still didn't hear footsteps behind her, she inhaled a deep breath and released it through pursed lips. But it was still all she could do not to turn around to see if he was following or staring or had left in the other direction. She nonchalantly lengthened her stride, but as she neared the farmhouse, she broke into a sprint, bounded up the porch steps and into the house, and locked the door behind her.

She leaned against the door and tried to slow her racing pulse. Was Vincent the reason she'd felt on edge this morning and yesterday? Had he been watching her? And where in the world was Daisy?

As if on cue, scratching sounded from upstairs, followed by whimpering.

Dakota froze, her mind racing. Daisy had been outside with her earlier. How had she gotten back in the house?
There you go again, Dakota, making mountains out of molehills.
She gave her head a shake. Obviously, Daisy had followed her inside when she'd come back to the house to use the restroom. Then she'd gone upstairs and somehow pushed the door shut so she couldn't get out.

A relieved laugh sounded from her throat. "Daisy? Is that you?"

A happy bark sounded, followed by more scratching and whining.

Dakota hobbled up the stairs. "It's okay, girl. I'm coming. I've been looking for you, you silly dog."

Daisy's sounds came from her bedroom, the last one on the left. She started down the hall, still talking to Daisy, but as she passed the second doorway, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

Footsteps sounded behind her, and someone stepped from the darkened doorway she'd just passed. "Well, well, we meet again."

Icy fingers tingled down her spine. Kane had caught up to her at last.

* * *

Chance leaned his elbow on the counter at the nurse's station and lowered his head to his fist. He attempted to breathe through his nose, but couldn't. It was as though a drain inside his head was clogged.

"You look awful." Chelsea rounded the corner and entered the nurse's station.

"My head feels like it weights twenty pounds."

"Last time I checked, that's about fourteen too many." She smiled.

Chance didn't.

"You really shouldn't be around the patients with a cold. Why don't you go home? It's a light day anyway."

"Gains will have my head on a silver platter if I miss any more work."

"It's Friday. He's long gone. Take off. We've got you covered."

Yeah, it made sense. He had to get well in order to protect Dakota. "Thanks, Chels. I owe you one."

A few minutes later he dragged himself to the pickup, feeling worse by the minute, his whole body achy. He shivered in spite of the warm day. Must have a fever.

Everything in him wanted nothing more than to head for the house, dose up with medicine, and sleep for the entire weekend. But he couldn't. Not yet anyway. He'd tried to call Dakota all morning with no luck. His lips flattened. She'd probably turned her phone off to keep him from interrupting her every five minutes. It didn't matter. He couldn't rest until he knew she was okay.

Fifteen minutes later he parked his pickup behind hers and slowly made his way to the front porch, his feet dragging as though loaded with lead. He leaned against the house with one fore-arm and rapped on the door. "Dakota?"

From inside muffled voices sounded, then multiple footsteps headed for the door. What was going on? Chance frowned. Maybe it just sounded that way because of her limp.

The door opened. Dakota peered up at him, her face unusually pale. "Hi."

She didn't budge from her location. "You gonna let me in?"

"Sorry, I'm busy right now. Call me later."

His ire spiraled upward driven on by fatigue. If she only knew how sick he felt, she wouldn't be playing these games. "I've been trying to call you all day."

Up and to his left, a scratch sounded from a bedroom window, followed by a bark and whimper. "You have Daisy locked up?"

"I told you. I'm busy. I'm also tired. I spent all morning cleaning out the barn. Now can you please just leave?"

Chill bumps rose on his back, and his eyes narrowed. Something was up, but what?

"C'mon, Chance. If you won't leave, I'll be forced to slam the door in your face."

He stood his ground, mind whirling as he tried to get a grip on what was happening.

Her frightened green eyes took on a brief flash of apology, and then the door slammed.

Footsteps sounded across the floor again, but no talking. Up above, Daisy whined and whimpered, her nails clicking against the window pane as she clawed. Okay, sick or not, something just didn't feel right about this whole scenario.

Chance moved slowly down the steps, not allowing himself to look back. Instead he climbed in the pickup, backed up and headed down the driveway and out onto the main dirt road. Once he reached the pull-in for the gate he'd entered last night, he parked the truck, then hurried back to the farmhouse. He hurried to the north side, ignoring more shivers brought on by his rising fever. Crouching, he made his way to the living room window.

From within an unknown male voice railed down curses while Dakota pleaded for him to stop.

Warning bells rang in his head and sent shockwaves throughout his body. No time to waste. Chance hurried to the back door, quickly dialing the police station. Ernie answered.

"Hey, Ernie, this is Chance. I'm outside the farmhouse. I think Dakota's ex might be inside and hurting her. I'm about to go in and see if I can help." He kept his voice intentionally low.

"We're on our way, but I advise not going in. Wait 'til we get there."

Chance hit the 'end call' button and let himself in the back door. Yeah, it would be better if he could wait until they arrived, but he couldn't take the chance of the guy in the house hurting Dakota. Hopefully, the element of surprise would work in his favor. He moved noiselessly to the pantry where she stored the shotgun, then tiptoed to the living room door and raised the gun at the man who could only be Kane. Dakota cowered on the couch beneath his raised fist.

A volcano erupted inside Chance, spewing frantic words from his mouth. "Stop it!"

The man turned, his fist still raised.

Dakota faced him, teary-eyed and pleading. "Chance, please leave. I'll be okay. Please."

Gut churning, he forced his gaze away from her. "Kane, I presume?"

An evil grin spread across the man's grizzled face as he lowered his fist. "So she's told you all about me, eh?" A spiteful laugh sounded from his throat. "Chance, huh?" He grabbed a handful of Dakota's hair and yanked her head back. "This the guy responsible for the shape you were in when I first met you?"

"Kane, don't. Please don't do this. I'll go with you. I'll do whatever you say, but please don't." Her voice lowered to a whisper.

What was she doing? A sweat broke out on his forehead and his vision blurred as he struggled to keep Kane in the gun sights.

"Well, since she's told you all about me, let's see if she told you the really good news." Kane's face held pure hatred.

Dakota lowered her head, red curls obscuring her face, but not concealing her heaving shoulders or her gut-wrenching sobs.

Kane raised her chin to meet his gaze. "You mean you didn't tell him that you gave his baby girl up for adoption?"

In slow motion, the room began to spin, whether from the blow of Kane's words or the fever, Chance couldn't tell. He spread his legs wide to steady his body weight, which seemed intent on giving in to gravity. With the gun still miraculously raised, he blinked. Baby? She'd been pregnant when she'd left Miller's Creek? Puzzle pieces fell neatly into place. It all made sense now. He had a baby girl. A baby he hadn't known about. A baby she'd given up for adoption without consulting him.

Focus, Chance. You can deal with it later.
Right now he had to get Dakota--and himself--out of the house alive.

Dakota released a guttural groan and drew his fuzzy attention. Her face creased, and her words sounded between sobs and sniffles. "I'm so sorry, Chance. I wanted to tell you, but I didn't think you'd forgive me. I'm so sorry."

In one swift movement, Kane was on the couch beside her. He yanked her head back once more to peer into her tear-stained face. "You never talked that nice to me, and after all I did for you." He looked up at Chance, a sneer on his face, then turned his attention back to Dakota. "I should've known you'd run right back to your lover boy. Or maybe I should call him Scar Face." Kane laughed, a maniacal laugh that further revealed his twisted personality.

Dakota's sobs returned in earnest.

Out of nowhere, Kane's demeanor changed, like a chameleon in new surroundings. Tears coursed down his cheeks as he took Dakota in his arms and wiped away her tears with his fingertips. "Oh, pretty baby, I'm sorry to hurt you. But if you hadn't run away I wouldn't have done this. You made this happen."