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“Thanks, Smokey. Haydon.” Michael eyed each one. “Let’s go.”
They blew out the lanterns and led their horses from the barn.
“You have anything of Selina’s with you for Skeeter to track?” Smokey asked.
“No. But I need to stop at the house and get a jacket. I’ll grab something then.”
Smokey gave a quick nod. “A hairbrush or anything will do.”
They mounted their horses and headed to his house. Michael ran inside and up the stairs. His attention fell to Selina’s hairbrush. What was left of the old thing, anyway. Instantly he felt horrible. Why hadn’t he made sure all of her needs were met? As he ran down the stairs he wondered what else she needed that he didn’t know about. He made a mental note to find out.
Michael grabbed his jacket, shoved a few candles and a box of matches in his pockets and raced out the door.
Smokey and his dog stood next to his horse. The older man stepped forward and took the brush from Michael and placed it under Skeeter’s nose. “Find her, Skeeter.”
The bloodhound bayed and headed into the trees. Michael and Smokey quickly mounted and took off after Skeeter and Haydon, who was right behind the dog.
An hour later they topped a hill and saw McCreedy’s abandoned house. Skeeter bayed, ran down the hill and disappeared inside the house.
“Heeya!” Michael tucked his legs tight into Bobcat’s sides. He leaned back as the horse jarred his way down the hill.
The hound continued to bay.
Michael reached the house first. Before his horse even stopped, Michael dismounted and rushed inside the broken-down house. “Selina!” He followed Skeeter’s bark. It was only when he got closer that he noticed a small form lying on the floor on a heap of splintered wood. “Selina.” He rushed to her side and dropped to his knees.
“Don’t move her, Michael.” Smokey’s silhouette filled the doorway. “Let me check her over first,” he cautioned as he headed toward Michael.
Michael nodded, even though he knew Smokey couldn’t possibly see him. He reached in his pocket, pulled out the candles and matches and lit them. Candlelight flickered across his wife’s pale face. He wanted to pull her into his arms and cradle her, to make everything okay.
Haydon stepped up next to them, holding a canteen. He took one of the candles from Michael. “Is—is she all right?” His words were rough and broken and mingled with fear.
Michael looked at Smokey, praying about what the next words would be.
Smokey didn’t answer. Instead, he took the opened canteen from Haydon, raised Selina’s head, put the canteen to her lips and tilted it. Water ran down Selina’s chin and neck.
She didn’t stir.
Michael struggled to remain calm, but panic was taking over. “Smokey?”
The elderly man cleared his throat. “Doesn’t seem to be any broken bones or anything.” His eyes slowly trailed upward at the gaping hole in the ceiling. “She’s one lucky woman to be alive.”
Michael drew in a long breath of relief.
After a moment of pause, Smokey tried to give Selina another drink.
She still didn’t stir. His friend stood.
“Smokey?” Michael looked up at him from his squatting position. “Why isn’t she responding?”
Smokey shook his head. “She has a huge knot on her head.”
“I’m taking her to Doc Berg’s.” Michael scooped her up into his arms and stood.
“That’s a good idea.” Haydon’s voice sounded off-pitch and strained and his eyes had a blank stare. Instantly, Michael knew why.
He wanted to comfort his brother, to ease the memories, but before he had a chance to say anything, Haydon spun on his heel and headed outside.
Smokey and Michael exchanged a knowing look. “He’ll be all right, boss.” Smokey’s words were full of assurance, and Michael knew he was right. Haydon was a survivor. His brother would deal with his feelings and move on like he always did. Still, his heart hurt for the pain his brother had suffered. But nothing could be done about that now. Besides, Selina needed his undivided attention.
They stepped outside the old house and strode up to their horses.
“Give her to me,” Haydon said.
Michael looked over at him with questioning eyes.
“I know what you’re thinking, Michael, and yes, it’s hard seeing her like this. But you have a chance to help Selina. I didn’t with Melanie. Hand her to me until you can get on your horse. Then go. Take care of your wife.”
His brother was right. He did have a chance to help Selina. With a heavy heart, Michael handed his wife over to Haydon, then swung into the saddle. His brother placed Selina’s limp form into his arms and gave him the reins.
