Authors: Vickie McKeehan
Eastlyn dropped to one knee, did a quick assessment. “No visible sign of a wound, which doesn’t explain his condition.” She touched Zach’s forehead, found it cool to the touch.
“Should we move him?” Cooper asked Eastlyn.
She ran her hands up and down Zach’s arms, did the same with his legs. “Even though I don’t feel any broken bones, or see any signs of trauma anywhere, it doesn’t mean there isn’t any. And look at this rash on the side of his neck.”
“Those could be ant bites,” Cooper said.
“Could be. But let’s err on the cautious side. If you ask me, this looks more like a reaction to medication than an injury. It looks as though Zach dropped right where he stood for whatever reason.”
“How do we get him out of this field?” Troy asked.
Eastlyn had an idea. “We could use a surfboard and strap him to it, carry him out that way, slide him into my Bronco with the seats folded down.”
Caleb piped up. “My garage is just through that easement. I’ll run back and get my surfboard.”
“Make it quick,” Cooper said, leaning over Zach’s right ear. “Come on, Zach, stay with us. We’re getting you some help.”
Doc Prescott confirmed
Eastlyn’s field diagnosis. “I strongly suspect Zach suffered a reaction to his medication. It sent him into an unconscious, almost catatonic-like state. I’ve given him epinephrine to relax his muscles, aiding him to breathe, and saline to flush out his system. I’d like to watch him overnight. But if he doesn’t lose consciousness again, he should be able to go home tomorrow.”
Doc turned to look at Bree. “I know you’re anxious to talk to him so go in, reassure him everything’s okay now.”
Bree covered her face with her hands. “I feel so awful. Troy and I just assumed that he…that he took off. If I’d known he was so close I’d never have left him out in that field for so long.”
Eastlyn broke in, hoping to find answers. “Doc, did Zach happen to say why he went out to that field in the first place?”
“He hasn’t been that verbal. It could be simple. He decided to take a walk after taking his medication and then had the reaction right there. So far, he barely remembers his name.”
Doc sent Bree a sympathetic gaze. “You realize Zach will need to be looked after, at least until he becomes more accepting of his depression. I’ve looked over his file and based on his insurance plan, I’ll suggest a few good facilities within a fifty-mile radius, relatively close by.”
Troy blanched. “You mean long-term care? I’m not sure Zach will go for that.”
“Not necessarily. His stay doesn’t have to be but a few weeks at most in order to find a medication that works best for him without this reoccurring. Reactions to antidepressants are rare, but they do happen.”
Doc patted Bree’s arm. “Don’t worry. For now, Zach needs some assurance from his sister that you’re here for him. Even though he didn’t say much, he’s much more alert than when you brought him in. He’ll be glad to see you.”
After Bree and Troy left the waiting room, Doc turned to the others. “That young man is very lucky you guys found him when you did. Otherwise, I doubt he would have made it another night.”
Twenty-Five
R
estoring the chopper was sweaty work.
This far inland the dog days of summer turned the barn into a furnace. Add in using sanders to take off rust and blowtorches to weld new metal to old, and the place easily hit a hundred degrees in the heat of the day.
Behind protective eye goggles, Eastlyn kept her eyes on the task at hand. Sparks flew all around her as she sanded off decades of corroded metal.
She worked until her arms ached, stopping only to take a water break and eat her sandwich around noon. She and Cooper had texted back and forth a couple of times, making plans to get together for supper.
She’d just fired up the sander again when she heard the barn door squeak open. She looked up and saw two men standing in the doorway, backwashed in sunlight. One had a wiry build and held a pistol. The other was stockier and gripped an AK-47 in his fist.
The wiry-built guy spit tobacco juice and asked, “That Bronco outside belong to you?”
Eastlyn weighed her options while still gripping the power tool. Nervous, but determined not to show it, she inched toward her cell phone she’d left out on the table, tapped the screen to begin the recording process. Eyeing the men, she decided bravado might go a long way. “No. I borrowed it from the town cop. Why? What’s it to you?”
Mr. Wiry went on to explain, “We think you already know the answer to that. You paid us an unwelcome visit the other night, trespassed on our property. We’re here to find out the reason you were out snooping around.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Mr. Stocky gestured with the assault weapon for effect. “Sure you do. You were snooping around. We want to know who sent you?”
She stuck to the fallback story. “The only place I’ve been recently is when my boyfriend, who’s a photographer, dragged me on a hike in the countryside near here to take a few pictures of old barns. Similar to this one. What’s your beef anyway? You bring guns in here to ask me about trespassing on your property? That’s nuts. Why didn’t you just call the cops to run us off? We’d have skedaddled along if someone had told us your place was off limits.”
Mr. Wiry exchanged looks with Mr. Stocky, sending glaring shards back at her. But before either one could intimidate her further, the barn door opened behind them.
Cooper and Thane stood looming in the background.
“Is there a problem here?” Cooper asked.
Eastlyn cast a grateful look toward Coop. “That’s the boyfriend in question. I was just telling these nice gentlemen that you took me on an odyssey into the woods around here to get pictures for the book you’re doing. These men claim we wandered onto their property. They’re apparently bent out of shape about it.”
Cooper eyed the two men. “I see that, enough to bring guns to welcome us to the neighborhood.”
“We just want to make sure you know to stay away from our place.”
“Which place would that be?” Thane asked.
Mr. Wiry ignored the question. “We’ll leave you to your work.” After staring down Thane and Cooper, the two goons disappeared back out the doorway.
“Boy, am I glad to see you guys,” Eastlyn said, holding up her phone. “Luckily, I recorded that entire conversation. Talk about intense.”
Cooper stepped to the barn door to make sure the men were leaving.
“What was that all about?” Thane grunted. “Where did those guys come from? They have sleaze written all over them.”
“A misunderstanding,” Cooper answered before Eastlyn could. “I guess when we were out taking pictures the other day we crossed over into someone’s turf. They must’ve taken exception to our presence.” Coop eyed Eastlyn. “But after that kind of encounter, I don’t think you should work out here alone.”
“I was about to suggest the same thing,” Thane added. “Plus, I’d put in a call to Brent, make sure he knows they were packing guns when they threatened you.”
“Count on it,” Cooper said before the talk turned to showing Thane the work that needed doing on the chopper.
“I like what
I see,” Thane said later. “If you and Wally need any help putting in the engine, I do have some experience, tinkering. My dad and I restored the old Range Rover I drive.”
Eastlyn nodded. “I’ve never taken on such a big job before on my own. That’s why you won’t see me turning down help when it comes to installing anything mechanical, especially the motor or the instrumentation panel. I might be able to handle the rest though.”
Thane tossed a look at Cooper. “I can get her more help.” He ticked off a list. “I’ll start by initiating a town hall meeting where the mayor and city council know our grievances about the slow response from the county. When I called Santa Cruz to ask why, they blamed it on being understaffed on a weekend due to budget cuts. My answer to that was bullshit. When it’s your kid that goes missing, you need action, not excuses. I want everyone in town to know where I stand on this issue. As a parent, no one wants to wait for two hours without help showing up in an official capacity from the county. We pay our taxes as much as the people elsewhere do. Next time, a crisis situation here in town may not have the same positive outcome.”
Eastlyn had seen the joy on Thane’s face when she’d driven up with the boys in the car. “That’s why the town needs its own. Ever since coming here I’ve heard the same thing over and over again. I’m beginning to believe that we actually take care of our own. Which means, I’m determined to make this work.”
When it came
time for the men to leave the barn and head back, Cooper convinced Eastlyn it was best to abandon her work for the day and follow them to town. While he’d dropped Thane off at his house, Eastlyn had headed to the lighthouse.
But that had been hours ago.
As the daylight inched toward dusk, Cooper found her on her knees near the cliff, weeding the beds of lavender. She wore gloves that were filthy with dirt and mulch, along with an edgy attitude, apparent in the lines that filled her forehead.
“Have you talked to Brent yet?”
“Not yet. I’m still trying to figure out how to get him to let me finish what I started. I have to get my ducks in a row before setting up a meeting. In the event I encounter a brick wall, I want to make him understand that I want more out of this than trailing after Titus. I want to make it permanent.”
“Then you will.”
She looked up into Coop’s face, the sunlight causing his sapphire eyes to dazzle like glitzy gems. “Just look at this place.” She stared out at the people whose turn it had been that day to show up and tend the crops—Abby Anderson, Jordan with her kids, Malachi and his daughters, Lilly Pierce and her two children.
“I had major doubts that a community farm would even work. But look at them. Dedicated to its success, determined to make a go of it despite water problems, pesky insects, a constant drain on time, you name it, the list goes on of what could get in the way till harvest time.”