Randall On The Run. Judy Christenberry

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ Wyoming, her home. Whenever the guy woke up and wanted out, she’d set him free. But she was heading home.

      The last thing she did before she got back on the road was to give him some aspirin to control the fever she felt sure would follow.

      ABOUT 3:00 A.M., Jessica pulled into a rest area, cracked her windows enough to let in air but not enough to let anyone have access to her car while she slept. She reached for another pillow for herself, and gave a blanket to Murphy. After checking on her still-sleeping passenger, she curled up and fell asleep.

      When Murphy wanted out the next morning, he woofed gently, and she opened one eye. “Murphy, are you sure? I’d like to sleep longer.”

      He woofed again.

      “Okay, okay.” She sat up and rubbed her eyes. Then she remembered her passenger. She scooted over so she could reach his face. He was still asleep, but the fever was raging. She left him alone while she opened her door and got out with Murphy.

      After her dog had relieved himself, she brought him back to the vehicle and got out more aspirin and a bottle of water. “Wake up,” she whispered to the man, who didn’t appear interested in waking at all. She finally got him awake enough to take more aspirin and a small sip of water. Then she left him alone again.

      “Murphy, I’m going to the restroom. Keep guard of our friend, okay?”

      She patted him on the head and slipped out of the vehicle, locking the door behind her.

      When she came outside again, she eyed the pay phone. If she was going to call her cousin Caroline, now would be a good time, and no one would pick up her conversation, as they could on a cell phone.

      She dialed the number for a collect call. When someone answered, she was afraid they wouldn’t accept the charges, but she used her full name and the Randall part of it did the trick.

      “Oh! Oh, yes, just a minute.”

      The operator said, “Hello, ma’am, will you accept the charges?”

      When there was no answer, the operator said to Jessica, “Ma’am, I’m sorry, they won’t—”

      She was interrupted by a voice Jessica recognized. “Hello? Yes, we’ll accept the charges.”

      “Go ahead, please,” the operator said and clicked off.

      “Caroline?”

      “Yes, Jess. Where are you?”

      “Some place in Utah.”

      “You’re coming home?” Caroline’s voice rose in excitement.

      “Yes, but that’s not why I called. Listen, Caroline, I have a—a person who’s been shot.”

      “What? Jessica, what are you up to?”

      “I’ll explain later. I bound the wound tightly to stop the bleeding, and I’ve given him aspirin. I don’t know if the bullet is out or not. Is there anything else I need to do?”

      Since Caroline was one of two practicing doctors in Rawhide, Wyoming, her family’s hometown, she knew Caroline could advise her.

      “No, nothing else, except to take him to a doctor.”

      “He refuses.”

      “Why?”

      “It’s a long story. And I don’t know how long I’ll have him around. If he comes to, I’ll probably drop him somewhere.”

      “This doesn’t sound smart, Jess. He could hurt you.”

      “Not as long as he’s passed out. But don’t worry. I’ll be careful. If I have to bring him home, will Mike have to report him being shot?”

      “That’s the law,” Caroline said, her voice sounding ominous. “I’m going to call Uncle Brett right now if you don’t explain yourself.”

      She immediately begged her cousin not to worry her father, Brett Randall. “I’m being careful, I promise, Caro, but I have to get back on the road and there are reasons I can’t talk about him on the cell phone. Someone might pick up the call.”

      “This is sounding worse, Jess, not better!”

      “I know, but I promise I’ll explain when I get there. Just trust me for a couple of days.”

      “All right, but no longer. And call back.”

      “I will. I’m going to call Mom and Dad to let them know I’m coming.” Jessica breathed a sigh after she hung up. She’d been afraid of Caroline’s answer. She knew the man needed a doctor, but she wouldn’t take him to one against his will.

      Unless he worsened, of course.

      She hurried to her SUV as if her thinking such thoughts would make them come true. She opened the door on Murphy’s side and pushed her dog to the driver’s seat so she could lift the hat and clearly see the man’s face.

      He was handsome, in a rough way. He needed a haircut and a shave, but nothing could hide his sculpted features. No wonder he was in Hollywood, home of the beautiful people.

      Luckily it appeared the bleeding had stopped. She got out the first-aid kit again. If she rebandaged him, she could use the antibiotic cream, which might stave off an infection.

      The ugly sight of his wound reminded Jessica why she hadn’t gone into medicine, like Caroline had. And her checkbook always taunted her for not going into accounting, like her sister, Tori, had.

      In fact, in addition to her flair for the dramatic, it was because she had no other skills that she’d turned to acting. But at least she’d proved herself. She’d stayed in Hollywood until she got a role in a major film. That way her family wouldn’t think she was a failure when she came home.

      Just as she was finishing binding the wound again, the man moaned.

      “It’s all right,” she whispered soothingly. “You’re safe.”

      She was sure he heard her because the tension in his body went away. She covered him up to his neck and lay the hat on his stomach so she could reach it quickly if she got pulled over again.

      They were only a few miles from Cedar City, Utah, a town in the southern part of the state. When she reached the outskirts, the hat went back over the man’s face so she could pull through a fast-food restaurant drive-through and get breakfast for her and Murphy. She didn’t think her passenger would be up for any food just yet.

      Once she’d done that, and Murphy was busy munching his sausage and biscuit, Jessica began talking to her dog, as she always did. He was her best listener.

      “You know, Murph, I can’t keep referring to him as ‘the man.’ Maybe we should give him a name. What do you think of Angus? He’s got dark hair. He could be an Angus. Or maybe he’s a cowboy, like the men in my family. Shall we call him Clint, in honor of Clint Eastwood?”

      Murphy woofed his disapproval.

      Jessica СКАЧАТЬ