The Colton Ransom by Marie Ferrarella Page A

with no faces, no names, no individual backgrounds that differentiated one staff member from the other. And, for the most part,” Gemma went on, shrugging her wide shoulders, “I guess that’s okay. But when Mr. Jethro acts as if it doesn’t matter that he could easily save the life of an innocent child by parting with some of that money he’s been amassing for such a long time—more money than any one man could possibly use up in a lifetime—well, that makes it time to move on, in my book.”
    Gemma offered her a sad smile. “I’m really sorry, Ms. Gabby. You’ve always been a real pleasure to work with, even more than your sisters. I hope you can find that baby—I truly do,” she said by way of a parting last comment.
    Oh, me, too, Gemma. Me, too, Gabby thought as she watched the other woman pick up her suitcase and then leave.
    The moment Gemma was gone, Gabby wove her way back to the main wing of the house, feeling more than a little overwhelmed.
    Well, that had certainly not gone well. She prayed that there weren’t going to be others opting to leave. She needed everyone to remain on board and go about their assigned business. She had no time to try to find replacements. Not when everything was being turned upside down.
    As she walked, she took out her cell phone and placed a call to Amanda.
    The moment she heard her sister’s voice on the other end of the line, she asked, “How is he?”
    “Gabby?” It was more of a confirmation than a guess on Amanda’s part. She went on to answer her sister’s question. “Dad’s still unconscious. They’re running tests on him right now, but no one’s saying anything yet. Where are you?”
    “I’m still at the house.”
    “Still at the house?” Amanda echoed. “I thought you said you were right behind us.”
    “I got sidetracked.” Feeling as if her very nerves were being pulled as taut as possible, Gabby dragged her hand through her hair, trying to pull herself together. “I just spent the last half hour trying to talk one of the maids, Gemma Harrigan, from quitting.”
    “Judging by your tone,” Amanda concluded, “you didn’t succeed.”
    Gabby blew out a breath. “No, I didn’t. Dad created a lot of ill will when he said he refused to release any money—his or mine—to ransom Avery.”
    “I know. It’s not like he can take any of it with him, and there’s certainly more than enough there to spare for something like this.” Amanda sounded as disappointed in their father as she was, Gabby thought. Her sister’s next words confirmed her hunch. “Makes me wonder if he would have taken the same stand if the kidnapper had succeeded in getting Cheyenne.”
    Gabby tried to reassure her sister—for both their sakes. “It’s different with Cheyenne.”
    Amanda didn’t sound all that sure. “Is it?” she questioned.
    “Yes.” Gabby had to believe that, had to believe that underneath, despite the gruffness, her father had a decent heart in there somewhere. He just got in his own way. “She’s his blood. In any case, Cheyenne is safe and sound, so there’s no sense in dwelling on what might have happened,” she cautioned her sister. “Listen, I’ll be at the hospital as soon as I can,” she promised.
    Amanda surprised her by what she said next. “Don’t see what good you can do. He hasn’t regained consciousness. We’re just standing around, waiting for someone to tell us something.”
    Gabby knew there was nothing she could accomplish by being there, but she still felt she should come and keep vigil, at least for a little while.
    “I can help you wait,” Gabby told her sister just before she terminated the connection.
    The moment she did, she caught sight of Trevor out of the corner of her eye. He was just walking by in the hallway and had automatically glanced into the room when he’d heard her voice.
    “Anything?” Gabby asked eagerly as she crossed to him.
    “Nobody’s called asking for a ransom, if that’s what you