Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Where the hell was he?
Betty ran faster and began to bark.
“Wait!” Jo shouted as she scrambled after the speeding dog. “Slow down, girl. Tracker!”
“Over here.”
“Oh, my God,” she whispered as she veered right. “Tracker?”
“I’m here. I got him!”
“The boy? You found him?” She vaulted over a huge stump and nearly wept when Tracker’s tall form came into view. He walked her way carrying the limp body of a small child. “Shit, is he okay?” She rushed over to him.
Tracker appeared completely fine. Drenched in sweat and moving slowly with his passenger but safe and unharmed.
“He’s unconscious but breathing. He mumbled a few words a little bit ago but has mostly been out of it.”
“I can’t believe you found him.” She pressed a hand to the boy’s sweaty forehead, brushing away the hair plastered there. His eyes fluttered twice, but otherwise, he hung motionless in Tracker’s arms. “Do you think he’s okay?”
“Dehydrated probably,” he said, all business. Gone was the flirty, fun man she’d been seduced by so easily. He didn’t appear panicked or worried at all, either. Calm, professional, and in control. A man who knew he could handle the crisis at hand. “Exhausted too.”
“Okay. Trisha, a detective I was paired up with, is waiting back on the road. She called over to headquarters for an ambulance.” She pulled out her phone. “I’ll let her know you have him.”
Trisha promised the cavalry would be there when they emerged from the woods. Despite the uneven ground, Tracker’s long legs ate up the distance. Jo scrambled to keep up, constantly flicking her gaze to the boy. He didn’t move or even twitch, but his face had color, and his breathing remained steady. At least he didn’t seem to be in any immediate distress. He simply needed to stay that way for a bit longer until they could get him help.
They stayed silent, following Betty back out to the road. Thankfully, the incredible dog put her nose to the ground and followed whatever scent had led them there in the first place. Within minutes, she barked and took off in a run.
“Almost there, buddy,” Tracker murmured even though the boy couldn’t respond. He sped up as well. Jo was practically running to keep up as they emerged onto the road.
“Over here!” Trisha shouted to the paramedics who’d pulled up at the same time. They ran over with a wheeled stretcher as Tracker jogged toward them.
“Betty, sit. Stay,” he called but gave his full attention to the task at hand.
The obedient dog plopped her bum down next to Jo, who stayed back and out of the way. Hordes of people had gathered in the time she’d been gone. Police, news vans, volunteers, and nosey onlookers talked over one another as their curiosity got the better of them.
“My baby!” The boy’s mother broke through the crowd running and sobbing at the same time.
Tracker laid the child on the stretcher, then took a step back so the paramedics could do their thing. He intercepted the mother as she ran over. The woman fought him for a moment but calmed as he whispered to her, no doubt explaining the urgency of the need for medical care. She’d have all the time in the world to love on her son as soon as he’d been stabilized. Eventually, she sagged in Tracker’s arms. He held the woman while she sobbed.
Jo’s heart ached for the woman who had to be experiencing an enormous range of emotions—fear, relief, guilt. To see Tracker so patient and compassionate messed with her head. She’d been telling herself for days that he was nothing more than a liar. A manipulator. An asshole. And not above hurting someone else for personal gain.
But then there he was with his clothing soaked from hours of searching under the hot sun, comforting the mother after having saved her son from a terrible fate.
Jo’s traitorous heart joined her body in its appreciation for the man.
Suddenly, the stress of the day, combined with the heat, zapped her remaining energy. She dropped to her knees next to Betty and gave the dog a pat. The pup deserved a filet mignon for her efforts, and somehow Jo knew Tracker would spoil her rotten when they returned home that evening.
Betty licked Jo’s face as she panted. She noticed Tracker had a doggie water bottle hanging from a carabiner on his belt. “You’re such a good girl,” she whispered to the happy and tired pup. “Do you even know what you did today? You saved a little boy’s life. You’re a hero.”
Betty licked her face again, then resumed panting.
Laughing, Jo gently directed her face away. “Give your daddy a few minutes, and he’ll be right over with some water for you.” As she rubbed the dog’s head, the hair on the back of her neck rose to attention, and the feeling of being watched could not be ignored.