I fell sideways into the wall of tools, and something jagged pierced my arm just as the shed door slammed closed, swallowing me in darkness. I growled out a string of curses, righting myself and clapping a hand against my right arm. It felt like lightning had struck it, and pain reverberated down the limb and up my shoulder.
An ominous scraping sound preceded a loud click. The fucker had locked me in the shed. I tried the door, but it was one of those old-school, sturdy types with a full two-by-four-thick jamb and solid wood slats in layers to insulate it. Whatever locked it from the outside held fast. I pushed harder, releasing my injured arm and slamming the door with the full weight of my body and strength. It rattled but didn’t give.
I pulled in a calming breath and forced myself to think. Jay was going to try and fix this, which meant only one certainty. Arabella was in danger.
Chapter thirty
Arabella
One hoof abscess turned into four, and then the Martins admitted that they had an ewe who was taking longer than expected to deliver a lamb. I found out she had a prolapsed uterus. By the time I’d left all the animals healthy or on the mend, the storm had turned into a full-blown blizzard. I could barely see through my windshield in the darkness, and the only thing I could think about was swallowing my pride and calling Spencer to come visit. I wanted to share the news about the diverted water source, and I wanted to hold him. I wanted warmth. I wanted him.
I called him as I rolled slowly down the county road toward the ranch, but he didn’t answer. Anxiety roiled in my stomach. Was he angry with me? Had he taken my need for space as a flat-out rejection? Horrified, I considered the possibility that he had left Park City altogether. The unease climbed to my heart, causing a deep ache in my chest that left me breathless.
“He won't,” I whispered to myself in the cab of my truck. “Stop panicking. He won’t.”
I pulled the truck into my garage, and then I called him again as I headed into my house where all the lights were still off from when I’d left earlier this morning. It felt empty. There was a six-foot-two, gargantuan pain in the ass missing from its hollow rooms, and I didn’t think I could get used to it again. I hadn’t minded the loneliness as much before Spencer. Now it was unbearable.
As I sighed in the foyer and unzipped my coat, a shadow to my right stirred, and I gasped in surprise. Jay pulled away from where he’d been standing against the wall. “Hey, Bella.”
“Jay,” I gusted out. “Jesus. You scared me.” Jay had never entered my house without permission before, and he looked frantic. Panicked.
“Bella, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Jay, call me Arabella, remember?”
He wasn’t listening. He paced in my dark foyer, pulling off his ballcap and running his hands through his hair nervously before replacing it. “I don’t—I have to—” He growled in frustration, stopping to grab me by the arms. Something wild flew across his features, like his thoughts had taken wing before finally landing somewhere uncertain. “Spencer is missing.”
Suddenly, his confusion made sense. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“I—I wasn’t sure,” he stammered. “He… I told him about the dam. The culvert.”
I stared at him, uncomprehending. “And?”
“I think… I think he went there in the storm.” He didn’t look me in the eyes when he said it, but I could smell his fear, the sweat and sickly-sweet perfume of terror that matched the crazed look in his eyes. He and Spencer had been spending enough time together, it made sense that he would be worried.
“He went there in the storm?” I asked incredulously. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” Jay insisted. “I told him the snow was going to get worse. He—he told me not to worry. He wanted to see it for himself.”
“Are you serious?” I stepped away from him and dug through the basket of winter things I kept by the front door. I found my winter gloves, hat, and scarf. “When did he leave?”
“Three?” Jay guessed. “Around then.”
“That was hours ago,” I snapped. “Why did you wait this long?”
“I’m sorry,” he replied helplessly.
I shoved the gloves over my hands and wrapped the scarf around my face. “Call 9-1-1 and give them the coordinates you gave Spencer.”
“Okay,” Jay said. He had his hands in his jeans pockets and looked miserable. I wrenched open the door, but he suddenly called out, the panic returning to his face. “Wait! Bel—Arabella.”
“What?” I asked impatiently.
He hesitated. His boyish features looked like they had aged overnight, and there was an odd sort of hardness to his eyes I’d never seen before. He bit down, shaking his head. “Never mind.”
“Call for a rescue,” I reminded him. “I’m going to see if I can get to him first.” I closed the door hard, praying that the authorities weren’t too busy tonight, but as the storm swept me up and pelted me with sharp prickles of ice, my hope dimmed a touch. They would definitely be busy tonight, maybe too busy to get to Spencer in time.
I tried to remember how long it had taken before I’d gone from convulsive shivers to disconcerting, exhausted warmth when I was seventeen. I was pretty sure it had taken them two hours to find me. Spencer had been gone far longer than that. My breathing picked up, sawing in and out of my lungs painfully as I ran across my lawn for the four-wheeler. He would be okay. I’d find him smiling and telling me I’d gotten worked up fornothing. The alternative wasn’t acceptable. I refused to consider it.
