The Colton Ransom by Marie Ferrarella Page B

mean,” he told her.
    Anyone looking at the man would have said he was being incredibly calm, but Gabby knew better than that. She could read between the lines, and it seemed evident to her that his handsome, rugged face was more drawn than usual. Trevor was apparently just barely able to hold on.
    “Was the chief any help?” she asked hopefully. Drucker had certainly stayed long enough, talking to the various staff members—making them all feel as if he suspected them of being the ones who’d pulled the trigger and had then handed the baby over to an accomplice.
    Her question was met with a short, dismissive laugh. Trevor didn’t bother saying anything.
    “I guess that’s a no,” Gabby surmised with a sigh. Because she needed to talk, she told him, “I’m about to go to the hospital to see if my father’s going to be admitted to the hospital or not, but I could stay here instead with you if you—”
    Trevor didn’t bother to hear her out or allow her to finish making her offer. Although he found the young woman attractive—more attractive than he was happy about—her father had made it very clear that there were lines not to be crossed. The Coltons were on one side of those lines and he, along with every other staff member here at Dead River, was on the other.
    Maybe at some other time, he would have given serious thought to thumbing his nose at those lines, but right now, he was far too concerned about what might be happening to his daughter to waste time over such adolescent reactions.
    “Your place is there, with your father,” Trevor told her. With that, he walked away, hurrying off to some other destination he didn’t bother sharing with her.
    Watching him go, Gabby shook her head. For a little while back there, when she’d gone with him to see Dylan, she’d thought she’d made a breakthrough, but apparently she was back to square one with Trevor. He was just as distant, just as removed as he had been when this all began.
    He was a hard nut to crack, even if his daughter hadn’t been taken.
    With a sigh, Gabby left the house.
    * * *
    She drove like a woman possessed, having little patience with speed limits that were posted in desolate areas. Their only purpose was to whimsically slow her down even when there wasn’t any sign of anyone else on the road for miles.
    She arrived at Cheyenne Memorial Hospital in record time. Armed with a room number that Amanda had given her, Gabby quickly made her way to her father’s bedside.
    Anxiety was her close companion as she walked into the room. She had no idea what to expect. The first thing that struck her was that the air within the room was thick with animosity and unspoken confrontation. The reason for that became instantly clear: Darla had insisted on being there along with Amanda and Catherine.
    But Gabby’s heart leaped up when she saw that her father was conscious again. There were tubes inserted in both his arms, attached to monitors as well as an IV that was providing fluids.
    For the moment, she saw beyond the punishing tubes and the gaunt face. Her father’s eyes were open. He was back and that was the main thing.
    Taking his hand in hers, Gabby struggled to maintain her composure. “Dad, you’re awake.”
    “Looks that way.” Her father’s gravelly voice was weaker than normal, but his expression was as dark as ever as he looked at her.
    For once, she ignored his tone. All that mattered to her was that he was awake. “You gave us quite a scare, Dad,” she told him.
    “Yeah, sure,” Jethro retorted weakly. And then, because he found himself growing emotional, something that was completely unacceptable to him, he grumbled, “You were all probably hoping I’d croaked so that you could start dividing up the money.”
    “I wasn’t, darling,” Darla spoke up, all but sealing herself to his other side. She paused for a moment to dab at eyes that appeared conspicuously dry. “I was beside myself with worry.”
    “Beside yourself.”