Page 6 of Wyoming Bodyguard
Lily opened her mouth, but no words came out.
Madden understood her shock, her terror and distress. Witnessing someone you loved fighting for their life made it hard for the mind to move forward. To react.
Gently placing a hand on her shoulder, he crouched again beside her. “Lily, I know it’s hard, but you need to let them do their job.”
Her watery eyes locked on his and she nodded.
He hooked an arm around her waist and helped her to her feet. The feel of her body so close to his sent a shock wave through his system.
She leaned against him as if unable to stand on her own, her focus now fixed on the EMTs who loaded Mr. Tremont onto the gurney and rushed him into the back of the ambulance. “I want to go with him.” Her breath hitched with each word.
The back door slammed shut, and the woman jogged to the front of the vehicle. “Meet us at the county hospital. We’ll take good care of him. I promise.”
Lily lunged forward as the woman jumped into the ambulance and took off down the road. “No!” she screamed. “I need my dad. He shouldn’t be alone.”
Keeping his arm firmly in place around her waist, Madden kept her from spilling onto the road. “He’s not alone. I promise.”
Her body trembled and she faced him, eyes swollen and filled with grief. A sob shook her shoulders and she collapsed against him.
Madden held her tight and met Deputy Sanders’s eyes above her head. “I’ll drive her to the hospital. Reid and Eve have the witnesses inside Tilly’s. Come find me for my statement, but there’s not much to tell.”
“I’m gonna need Ms. Tremont’s statement, too. I’ll swing by and see you both once I’m done here.”
Madden nodded, grateful the old man wouldn’t push Lily to talk right now.
“Okay,” he said, steering her in the direction of his truck parked down the road. “We’re going to go see your dad now. I’m going to drive you. Is that all right?”
Walking beside him, she reached for his hand and squeezed.
That was enough of an answer for him. He stood steady beside her, keeping her upright and stable, and helped her climb into his truck. He shut the door and ran around the front fender to the driver’s side. He cast her one quick glance and his heart crumbled.
Throwing the truck into Drive, he shot off toward the hospital, reached for her hand and sent off a quick prayer that her father wouldn’t die.
Chapter 3
Time crawled by slow as molasses while Lily sat in the waiting room, anxious for news about her father’s condition. She shifted in a hard chair, clasping her hands in her lap and staring at the double doors that only medical staff could enter.
He was back there. In surgery. Fighting for his life.
Tears hovered at the corners of her eyes, but she kept them from falling. She couldn’t fall apart again. Her dad needed her to be strong, because once he pulled through surgery—which he had to—she needed to be there for him. To help him regain his strength and put this entire mess in the rearview mirror.
The smell of old coffee and disinfectant turned her stomach. A few people loitered in the room, huddled in seats or propped against the wall waiting for their family or friends. But she couldn’t get past her anxiety to focus on the other folks around her.
The doors leading outside whooshed open and let in a huff of hot air. The sound of heavy boots pricked her ears, and she found herself staring at Deputy Sanders. He offered a tired, sympathetic smile that made his full cheeks impossibly rounder.
Madden returned, a cup of coffee in his hands. “Did you find the shooter?”
She bounced her gaze from one man to the other and fought the haze of fear that hadn’t left since she’d seen the gun in the truck window.
Deputy Sanders swept his cowboy hat from his head and settled into the chair beside her. “Sorry, but no. None of the witnesses were able to provide much. Lily, I know it’s a tough time right now, but can you tell me what you remember?”
Drawing in a shuddering breath, she steeled her nerves as much as possible. “Dad and I walked outside after we finished our lunch. The traffic light changed, so we stopped, and a truck charged forward.”
“Did you see what color the truck was? Make or model? License plate number?” Deputy Sanders asked.
“Um, black. Tinted windows. I can’t remember any other details. The window lowered, and I saw a gun seconds before my dad shoved me to the ground. Then the gunshots rang out.” Emotion lodged in her throat. She rubbed her fingers over the base of her neck as if to dislodge the building pressure, to breathe easier.
But nothing helped. Nothing stopped the screams echoing in her mind or the image of her father motionless and so damn pale on the sidewalk.
