Rachel from seeing where they were going, the drive had taken less than twenty minutes. She knew they were still in the vicinity of Shadow Mountain Lake, still in Grand County. If she could figure out her location, she might somehow get a message to Jim, and he could coordinate her rescue through the sheriff’s department.
The van door opened, and Cole took her arm, guiding her as she stumbled up a wood staircase. Looking down under the edge of the blindfold, she saw it had been partially cleared of snow. The porch was several paces across; this had to be a large house or a lodge.
She heard the front door open and felt a gush of warmth from inside. A man ordered, “Get the hell in here. Fast.”
“What’s the problem?” Cole asked.
“It’s Penny. She’s got a gun.”
Rachel stifled a hysterical urge to laugh. Penny had to be every man’s worst nightmare: a woman in labor with a firearm.
Inside the house, Cole held her arm and marched her across the room. He tapped on a door. “Penny? I’m coming in. I brought a midwife to help you.”
As Rachel stepped into the bedroom, she was struck by a miasma of floral perfume, antiseptic and sweat. Cole wasted no time in removing the blindfold and the handcuffs.
From the bed, Penny stared at her with hollow eyes smeared with makeup. Her skinny arm trembled with the effort of holding a revolver that looked as big as a canon. A flimsy nightgown covered her swollen breasts and ripe belly, but her pale legs were bare. The dressing on her thigh wound was bloodstained.
“I don’t want drugs,” Penny rasped. “This baby is going to be born healthy. Hear me?”
Rachel nodded. “Can I come closer?”
“Why?” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to help you have this baby.”
“First things first,” Cole said. “Give me the gun.”
“No way.” Penny’s breathing became more rapid. Her lips pulled back as she gritted her teeth. Her eyes squeezed shut.
Even wearing the ski mask, Cole looked nervous. “What’s wrong?”
“A contraction,” Rachel said.
A sob choked through Penny’s lips. Still clutching the gun, she threw her head back, fighting the pain with every muscle in her body. She stayed that way for several seconds. Instead of a scream, she exhaled a gasp. “Damn it. This is going to get worse, isn’t it?”
“Here’s the thing about natural childbirth,” Rachel said as she moved closer to the bed. “It’s important for you to be comfortable and relaxed. My name is Rachel, by the way. How far apart are the contractions?”
“I’m not sure. Eight or ten minutes.”
“First baby?”
“Yes.”
Experience told Rachel that Penny wasn’t anywhere near the final stages of labor. They probably had several more hours to look forward to. “Can I take a look at that wound on your leg?”
“Whatever.”
Rachel sat on the bed beside her and gently pulled the bandage back. In her work as an EMT, she’d dealt with gunshot wounds before. She could tell that the bullet had entered the back of Penny’s leg—probably as she was running away—and exited through the front. The torn flesh was clumsily sutured and caked with dried blood. “It doesn’t appear to be infected. Can you walk on it?”
Defiantly, Penny said, “Damn right I can.”
“I’d like you to walk into the bathroom and take a bath. Treat yourself to a nice, long soak.”
“I don’t need pampering.” Her raccoon eyes were fierce. “I can take the pain.”
Rachel looked away from the gun barrel that was only inches from her cheek. She didn’t like Penny, didn’t like that she was a criminal on the run and definitely didn’t like her attitude. But this woman was her patient now, and Rachel’s goal was a successful delivery.
“I’m sure you’re tough as nails, Penny.” Rachel stood and stepped away from the bed. “But this isn’t about you. It’s about your baby. You need to conserve your strength so you’re ready to push when the time comes.”
Cole approached the opposite side of the bed. “Listen to her, Penny.”
“Fine. I’ll take a bath.”
Rachel went to the open door to the adjoining bathroom. As she started the water in the tub, she peered through a large casement window, searching for landmarks that would give her a clue to their location. All she saw was rocks and trees with snow-laden boughs.
Penny hobbled into the bathroom, using Cole’s arm for support. As he guided her through the doorway, he deftly took the revolver from her hand.
“Hey,” she protested.
“If you need it, I’ll give it back.”
Hoping to distract her, Rachel pointed to the swirling water. “Do you need help getting undressed?”
Penny glared at both of them. “Get out.”
Before she left, Rachel instructed, “Leave the door unlocked so we can respond if you need help.”
With Penny disarmed and bathing, Rachel turned to Cole. “I need fresh bedding and something comfortable for her to wear. It’d be nice to have some soft music.”
“None of these procedures are medical,” he said.
She leaned toward him and lowered her voice so Penny couldn’t hear from the bathroom. “If I’d come in here and wrenched her knees apart for a vaginal exam, she would’ve blown my head off.”
He blinked. His eyes were the only part of his face visible. “I guess you know what you’re doing.”
“In the back of my van, there are three cases and an oxygen tank. Bring all the equipment in here.” She stripped the sheets off the bed. “And you can start boiling water.”
“Hot water? Like in the frontier movies?”
“It’s for tea,” she said. “Raspberry leaf tea.”
Instead of leaving her alone in the bedroom, he opened the door and barked orders. She tried to see beyond him, to figure out how many others were in the house. Not that it mattered. Even if Rachel could escape, she wouldn’t leave Penny until she knew mother and baby were safe.
She went to the bathroom and opened the door a crack. “Penny, are you all right?”
Grudgingly, she said, “The water feels good.”
“Some women choose to give birth in the tub.”
“Naked? Forget it.” Her tone had shifted from maniacal to something resembling cooperation. “Is there something else I should do? Some kind of exercise?”
Her change in attitude boded well. A woman in labor needed to be able to trust the people around her. Giving birth wasn’t a battle; it was a process.
“Relax,” Rachel said. “Take your time. Wash your hair.”
In the bedroom, Cole thrust the fresh sheets toward her. “Here you go.”
“Would you help me make the bed?”
He went to the opposite side and unfolded the fitted bottom sheet of soft lavender cotton. He’d taken off his jacket and was wearing an untucked flannel shirt over a long-sleeved white thermal undershirt and jeans with splotches of blood on the thigh.
She pulled the sheet toward her side of the bed. “We’re probably going to be here for hours. You might as well take off that stupid mask.”
He