Rudy hadn’t spoken once since entering the house. Now he grabbed Jared by the sleeve. “Come on. We’re wasting precious time here. Thorn can track them, but they’ve got an hour’s head start in the rain. We’d better hurry.”
Jared still stared at his mother, thinking all sorts of crude insults to fling at her. But she wasn’t worth it. She was defeated and she knew it. Bitter disappointment that this woman who had given him life could never give him love filled his lungs, drowning him. The innumerable times in his life he had been hurt and rejected by her flashed through his mind in kaleidoscopic fashion. All his efforts at attempting to please her had been scorned and for naught. He never quite met her expectations. That rejection had been the crux of his bitterness, his contempt, his anger at the world. If he wasn’t loved, then, by God, he wasn’t going to love anyone!
But it hadn’t worked. He had loved Ben. Yes. He admitted it now. He loved his father and had been devastated by his death. And in spite of Ben’s ill health, Jared was still haunted by the argument that had precipitated the final seizure. He had loved Ben. He loved Rudy and Gloria. And Maria. And he loved Lauren.
Lauren! It had only taken a few seconds for these soul-rending admissions to pass through his mind. Rudy’s hand was still on his arm. He gave his mother one last regretful look and then turned on his heels and fled the room.
“Thorn, we need to track two horses that left here an hour ago. Vandiver’s got my wife.” He shouted all of this as the three men dashed out to the yard and mounted their horses.
“We’ll have to hurry. The trail could be washed away soon,” Thorn said matter-of-factly as they picked up the faint trace of horseshoes impressed in the soft mud.
* * *
Lauren clung to the pommel of her saddle with stiff, cold fingers, trying to navigate her horse up the slippery, muddy incline. The rain that had started as a fine drizzle had now increased to a steady downpour. She had not taken the time to put on her hat after Kurt had informed them of Jared’s injury, nor had she put on a jacket or any kind of protective covering. The hard raindrops fell like lead balls on the top of her head. Her hair, even heavier with the weight of the rain in it, had pulled loose from its pins and hung down her back, making her neck ache. She was soaked through to the skin and shivered with cold.
Vivid flashes of lightning had spooked their horses several times and the thunder rolled over the plains and off the shallow hills like giant bowling balls striking a stone wall.
Cold, wet, and miserable as she was, one thought kept reverberating through her head like the thunder: Please, God, let Jared be alive.
It seemed to her that it was taking an inordinate amount of time to reach their destination. They had ridden off in the opposite direction from Pueblo and had been riding for what she calculated to be a couple of hours. But they may not have been riding anywhere near that long. Time had stood still for her when she heard that her husband’s life was in danger.
She questioned Kurt about Jared’s condition when the trail had widened enough to allow them to ride abreast. “Where did they take him, Kurt? We’ve come miles from Pueblo and you said they were afraid to let him travel too far.”
He avoided her eyes. “Well, one of the men knew about this cave. They wanted to get Jared away from the scene of the trouble for his own safety, so this cave seemed ideal. Not too many people know about it.”
His words didn’t make much sense to her, but she didn’t argue. She only wanted to get to Jared as quickly as possible.
She had been hearing a loud roaring for the pas
t several minutes, and when the sky was illuminated by a lightning flash, she saw that the river was about fifty feet ahead of them. The Rio Caballo, which was usually so placid even as it formed small rapids over the limestone that lined its bed, was raging and boiling out of its banks.
Kurt rode toward it and cursed loudly as he saw their predicament. “We have to cross it, Lauren,” he shouted over the roaring of the river and the crashes of thunder. In daylight, the prospect would have been grim, but in this darkness, with stinging rain in their faces, it seemed suicidal.
“Isn’t there another way?” Her throat hurt in the effort to make herself heard over the din. “The horses can’t swim this. Even if they could, look at all the debris.”
There were large trees, barrels, wagon wheels, lumber, and sundry other objects being carried by the swift, churning water. Lauren didn’t think they could make it to the other side without seriously injuring either themselves or their mounts.
“Do you want to get to Jared or not?” Kurt demanded, frustrated by her caution.
“They couldn’t have brought him this way and gotten him across the river with it flooded like this,” she argued.
“It’s been hours since they must have crossed it. I’m sure it didn’t flood until it started raining hard again.”
He was right and she knew it. With all the rainfall of the past few days, the possibility of a flash flood was great. When the new rain had begun to fall, the saturated ground at the top of the hills had refused to hold any more, causing it to funnel downstream into the river. It wouldn’t have taken long for the river to rise to these proportions.
She nodded at Kurt as she gripped the pommel more firmly.
“You go first, and I’ll be right behind you,” he shouted. “If the horse won’t swim, just try to ride the current until you get a chance to make it to the other side. Okay?”
She nodded again, dumbly, her heart pounding, and nudged the horse’s flanks. The gelding shied away from the water, tossing his head, and for a moment, Lauren thought he would refuse to go into it. Obedience won out, however, and he stepped into the boiling river. He had just gotten all four feet into the water, when he was almost immediately swept into the middle of the river by the swift current.
Lauren held on for dear life, thinking suddenly that if she died, her and Jared’s baby would die, too. Why didn’t I tell him I carried his child? She berated herself. She tightened her knees, gripping the sides of the horse. She risked looking back to see if she could spot Kurt and saw him urging his horse away from the bank into the water.
Darkness and rain surrounded them, but when the lightning flashed again, she saw the tree being swept toward her with alarming impetus. Oh, God, no! her mind screamed, and she braced herself for the impact.
The main trunk of the tree floated in front of them, but apparently a branch that was under the surface struck her horse in the forelegs, for he suddenly buckled and Lauren was all but thrown from his back. She gripped the pommel tighter, her fingers slipping on the muddy water that had doused the saddle. The horse was screaming in pain, and Lauren knew his legs must have been broken. The tree had not flowed past them, but was circling wildly as if seeking direction. In his agony, the gelding thrashed violently and, this time, Lauren couldn’t maintain her hold.
She was hurled into the dark murky waters of the raging river. The current lifted her up long enough for her to gasp a breath before once again she was sucked under. Beneath the surface, she struggled to propel herself upward. She could feel herself growing lighter, knowing that the surface and the much-needed oxygen were near, when her head struck something above her, and a blinding pain shot through her body. She floundered helplessly, felt the drawstring of the cloth bag with the medical supplies slip from her wrist, and began to sink into the deep oblivion of unconsciousness.