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“Naomi.” Tossing training aside he ran into the cabin, switching the lights on as he went.

The sight that met him was his worst nightmare.

Naomi lay on the floor, cuffed to the couch. There was blood on her arm, and their baby lay between her legs, in a pool of blood.

“Sam,” she said again, this time it was more of a sob. “Is she okay? She was crying at first but the last few minutes she’s been so quiet.”

He didn't remember crossing the room, he was just as Naomi’s side, grabbing her tightly, and asking fiercely, “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “The baby?”

Sam turned his attention to his newborn daughter. She was so tiny, and her little eyes were closed. Was she still alive? He reached for her, laying his hand on her chest, and felt it rise and fall, her heart beat beneath his touch. “She’s alive.”

Naomi sagged in relief.

“Here, we need to wrap her up to keep her warm.” Matthew knelt beside him with a stack of towels and blankets, and a bag to wrap the placenta in.

While he carefully wiped the baby down and wrapped her up in the blankets, making sure to keep the placenta and cord wrapped up with her until help arrived, Matthew turned his attention to Naomi, and unlocked the handcuffs that kept her bound to the couch. He held Naomi’s wrist and took her pulse, his other hand on her chin, as he peered into her eyes.

“Is she okay?” Sam asked. There was so much blood and mess he was terrified she was hemorrhaging and going to bleed out right in front of him.

“Her pulse is strong, and her eyes are clear. Naomi, I see blood on your arm are you hurt anyplace else?” Matthew asked.

“No. Sam? Are you sure she’s okay?”

“She’s perfect.” He smiled at his wife and placed the baby in her outstretched arms.

Naomi stared at the newborn, transfixed. “She’s so beautiful. And so tiny.” She traced a fingertip over their daughter’s little face, then kissed her.

“Naomi, look at me,” Matthew instructed. “This looks like a gunshot. Did he shoot you?”

“Yes,” Naomi replied, and Sam vibrated with anger. Who shot a pregnant woman?

“I called an ambulance,” Nate suddenly appeared. “I checked everywhere I can't find Rylla. Naomi, where is she? I see blood on the floor.”

“He took her.” Tears were streaming down Naomi’s pale face. “My water broke and we were going to go to the hospital, but then he came. He had a gun, he said if Rylla didn't go with him then he was going to kill me and the baby. Rylla tried to talk him out of it, but then I had another contraction and she got distracted, he took advantage and shot me. I told her not to, but she agreed to go with him. Then he cuffed me and Rylla tried to tackle him, but he shot her. She collapsed, and he just grabbed her and ran. I was so scared, Sam. The baby was coming, and I was worried something would go wrong.”

That she had delivered their baby, alone, handcuffed, shot, and after witnessing her best friend’s abduction made him love her so much more. She was the most amazing woman. “Shh, it’s all right now.” His heart was thumping in overdrive, but he exuded as much outward calm as he could manage to help calm his wife. Naomi had started to shake, so he took another blanket and wrapped it around her, then scooped her up and sat with her on the couch, cradling her in his arms.

Matthew gently extracted Naomi’s injured arm and grabbed another towel wrapping it around the wound. “Do you know who he is?”

She nodded. “It was Rylla’s brother-in-law.”

“Beau Drake?” Nate demanded.

“Yes.”

“Did he say anything?”

“Just that he wanted Rylla and didn't want to hurt me, but he would if he had to.”

“Did he say where he was taking her?”

“No.”

“How many times did he shoot her?”

“One.”


Tags: Jane Blythe Storybook Murders Romance