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Cade’s gruff command wiped out all her excitement and filled her with dread. She patted her pockets, searching for her phone, as she hurried to the top of the stairs. She spotted Cade hunched over Mrs. Collins, who laid curled in a ball at the base of the stairs leading up to the third floor.
Her eyes were closed. Her skin pale. Blood pooled beneath her head, staining the wooden floors.
Bile sloshed in her stomach, chasing away the wonderful feel of her baby from moments before. “Oh my God. Is she alive?”
“She has a pulse. She’s needs to get to the hospital quick. There’s only so much my emergency medical training can do.”
“Crap. My phone’s in my bag downstairs.” She turned to run down the steps, careful with her footing as she made her way back to the foyer.
Heavy footsteps turned her toward the kitchen. Isaac stood with a grin on his scruffy face and a gun aimed at her head. “Hello, darling. Glad to see you finally showed up. Now keep your mouth shut and head out the back before you force me to do something I’ll regret.”
Cade’s pulseraced like a freight train. It’d been years since he’d had to call upon the limited medical training he’d received in the military. A wave of heat slammed against him as anxiety swelled in his gut. Beads of sweat dotted his hairline.
Okay. Deep Breaths. One step at a time.
He pressed his index and ring fingers to the thin skin at her neck again. Her pulse was as weak and thready as it’d been the first time he’d checked. The blood leaking from the gash on the side of her head was alarming, but also wasn’t surprising for a head wound.
The most critical issue was how long ago she’d fallen. How long had she laid there unconscious?
Time ticked by. He strained his ears for signs of Laura but didn’t hear anything. “Laura,” he called out. “Is an ambulance on the way?”
Nothing.
“Laura!”
More silence.
Shit. He couldn’t take a chance that Laura hadn’t made the call for help yet. He grabbed his phone and called 911.
“911, what’s your emergency?” The woman on the other end of the phone spoke in a calm, no-nonsense tone.
“I have an older woman who appears to have fallen down the stairs. Her pulse is weak. A wound to the side of the head has produced a substantial amount of blood. No idea how long ago she fell. I need an ambulance at 725 Grand Pine Road.”
“Sending help now.”
Mrs. Collins stirred slightly and moaned.
A beat of relief pulsed through him. “She’s waking a bit,” he told the dispatcher.
“Tell her not to move,” the dispatcher said.
He placed a hand on Mrs. Collins’ shoulder. “Stay still. You’re going to be okay. It’s Cade and Laura. We’re getting help for you.”
Her eyes fluttered open. Her pupils were huge, face pinched in pain. She squirmed on the floor, causing another moan to rumble from her chest. She opened her mouth as if trying to say something, but nothing came out.
“Shh, everything’s going to be okay.” He prayed that was true. Sirens sounded in the distance. “It won’t be long now until help’s here.”
She latched her gaze on his and clung onto his arm with more strength than he’d think possible. “Pushed.”
The word came out on a whisper. He leaned closer. “What did you say?”
“Didn’t fall. Was pushed.” As if speaking was too much to handle, her eyes drifted closed again and her body went lax.
Terror clamped onto the back of his neck with icy fingers.
Laura!
“Mrs. Collins, I have to go check on Laura. I’ll be right back. You aren’t alone, okay. Help’s on the way.” He hated leaving the older woman, but he jumped to his feet and ran down the stairs. He still had the dispatcher on the line, so he pressed the phone to his ear. “She woke for a second. Said she was pushed. Send police.”
