Page 43 of Deputy Brand Gets Her Man
Jeremiah got up off his knees, followed them, and realized others were doing the same. Orrin and Drew had shown up, maybe getting the news the same way he had. With all their sleuthing, they probably had a police scanner.
A big black pickup with the Skydancer Ranch logo on the side sped toward them. It skidded to a halt in the road and Willow’s parents, Wes and Taylor, got out and came running, leaving the truck’s doors open behind them.
“Just give us enough room to work,” said a young medic who was pulling Willow’s eyelids up and shining a light into them.
Drew Brand shot him a look, and said, “It’s you. You’re an EMT, too?”
The young man glanced at her and recognition flashed in his eyes. They clearly knew each other. “Among other things,” he said.
He put the light away and looked at the medic on the other side of Willow from him, who was removing a cuff from her arm. “One-fifteen over seventy-two.”
The young medic said, “Her vitals are strong. Looks like she hit her head pretty good. We need to get her to El Paso. You can meet us there.”
“Can I—” Jeremiah began, then stopped himself before he could complete the thought. Can I ride with her?
Everyone was looking at him oddly as they closed the doors. He didn’t bother trying to tack a lame ending onto the sentence. Let them make whatever they wanted out of it.
He strode back toward his Jeep.
His brother Ethan’s hand fell heavy on his shoulder. He knew without looking who it was but stopped walking. Everyone else was heading for their vehicles, too. As they passed, Willow’s father sent him a long, hard look. He was an impressive man with the sculpted face and piercing brown eyes of his Comanche ancestors and silver white hairs interspersing the black. Jeremiah felt as if Wes Brand moved past him in slow motion, that steely gaze penetrating his very soul. So he shifted his eyes away from it, and they fell on Willow’s mom, an older version of her daughter. She gave him the very slightest nod. There was encouragement in her eyes. “See you at the hospital, Jeremiah,” she said.
Her husband shot her a look, and she slid her hand into his and hurried toward their black stallion of a pickup truck.
Sheriff Garrett was leaning into his SUV, speaking into the radio mic. His brother-in-law and chief deputy, Lash, was leading the team around the bit of road where the accident had happened, directing the deputy who was taking photos of twisty skid marks on the pavement.
Orrin and Drew were heading his way, on their way to the little white EV they’d driven there.
Drew said, “You’re coming to the hospital, right?”
Orrin sent his sister a frown.
Jeremiah just nodded, turned, and went to his Jeep. He got behind the wheel, and realized Beans was home alone. He’d intended to pick the pup up once he’d figured out how he was reaching the site.
He took out his phone, and called the landline number Frankie had given him. A woman answered, and he said, “Hey, Mrs. Miller? This is Jeremiah Thorne, I have the dog.”
“It’s Mrs. Delmar,” she said. “What can I do for you, Mr. Thorne? We can’t take Beans back, if that’s what?—”
“No, uh, I need a dog sitter for a few hours tonight. I thought if Frankie wanted to?—”
“Oh, thank goodness. He’s been heartbroken. Frankie! Frankie!”
Thundering footsteps and his grandmother’s muffled voice preceded Frankie’s excited, “Jeremiah? You need me to watch Beans?”
“Yeah. Listen, kid, can you get someone drive you over to the bunkhouse? I don’t like you riding that far on your bike.”
“Sure, Grandma will take me.”
“The key’s under the old milk can that sits by the bunkhouse door,” Jeremiah said. “Have your grandmother help you unlock it, in case you have trouble. I’ll run you home after I get back, but it might be late.”
“That’s okay, no school yet.”
“I’ll pay you for your time, kid. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. Grandma’s getting her keys. See you later, Jeremiah.”
“See you later, Frankie.”
As he disconnected, his heart was slightly lighter. He’d made Frankie happy. That was worth something. The kid and his dog were like a couple points of light along a dark stretch of highway.
