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“Are you hurt?” Jackson asked Isabel.
“No. Grandpa is a little banged up, but he’s okay,” Isabel said. “Are you bleeding?”
“It’s just a flesh wound,” Charlie said. “And don’t worry. His handsome face is still intact.” She elbowed him.
“I swear when both of my arms work again,” Jackson said, “I’m going to give you such a bear hug, Charlene Moyen.”
“Don’t threaten me,” Charlie said, but she was smiling a little bit. “I saved all your asses.”
“I meant to say I’ll buy you helicopter parts,” Jackson said.
“Deal.” Charlie helped Jackson to his feet and got them both out of the way while a pair of soldiers worked on getting Isabel and Eugene out of the cell.
As they waited, Donovan came over. His shirt was filthy and ripped. His pants hadn’t fared much better, but he was in one piece, thank God.
“I had no idea archaeology geeks could be so evil,” he said, flexing a hand with split and bruised knuckles. He nodded at Charlie. “Thanks for bringing reinforcements.”
“You owe me one now,” she said.
“Probably more than one.” He focused on Jackson’s shoulder. “Which one of these bastards shot my little brother?”
“The one with the bandage on his arm,” Jackson said.
Donovan grunted and marched off, no doubt to make sure that guy’s handcuffs were extra tight.
Blaze let out a happy bark and Jackson turned his attention back to the cell where Isabel’s head was now visible. The dog licked her entire face and Jackson went to her, wanting to do pretty much the same thing.
“Isabel.” He wrapped his good arm around her, trying to keep from bleeding on her, but she put both her arms around him and squeezed him close. He rested his chin on her head and finally took a deep breath. Isabel was alive. But she almost hadn’t been.
Because of him.
She backed up a step and looked at his shoulder, her face creased with worry. “How bad is this?”
“That’s for a doctor to determine,” Charlie said. “And I’m flying you all to the hospital as soon as Eugene is out of that cell.”
Isabel whirled around to face the open hatch door where her grandfather was being assisted out. Blood matted the hair at the back of his head, and his arms were scraped up.
“Two of these monsters cornered him at his cottage,” Isabel said. “Asked him to give permission to Ward to dig on his land. When he said no, they hit him on the back of the head, knocked him out, and dragged him here.”
“I knew he wouldn’t sign that paper,” Jackson said. “Ward said he did.”
“I didn’t sign shit,” Eugene said after being led to sit on one of the nearby storage trunks and handed a bottle of water. He guzzled then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I like your brand of archaeology better, Jackson.”
But his archaeology was what had brought Ward’s archaeology to Maplehaven. To Eugene’s property.
“Let’s get you all checked out,” Charlie said as she helped Eugene to his feet.
Isabel hurried over to assist and slowly they made their way to Charlie’s helicopter. Blaze was the first to jump into the chopper. Charlie grabbed a medic kit she had onboard and while Isabel wiped blood away from Eugene’s head, Charlie did what she could to stop Jackson’s shoulder and hand from bleeding all over everyone on the trip to the hospital.
“Keep your arm like this,” she said, bending her own and resting it against her midsection. “I don’t have a sling for you.”
“I have this,” Isabel said, producing Blaze’s leash. She made a loop of it and slid it over Jackson’s head.
He rested his forearm in the loop and felt less pain with his arm supported now. He climbed into the chopper and after they all donned headphones, Isabel immediately took his uninjured hand.
“Thank God we all made it out of that alive. I’ve never been so scared. For my grandfather, for me, for you and Donovan.” A few tears streaked down her dirty cheeks and Blaze put his head in her lap. “You too, buddy.” She rubbed the dog’s ears.
“You didn’t stay put.” That wasn’t what Jackson had meant to say. He’d meant to console her. He’d meant to tell her nothing like this would ever happen again. He meant to say he’d devote his life to keeping her safe.
