Texas K-9 Unit Christmas: Holiday Hero

Obviously, he’d matured in the decade since they’d last seen each other. He’d also become a police officer, if the dark blue uniform and shiny badge peeking out from beneath his coat were any indication.

“Thanks, but I’d rather bleed to death than have your hand pushing through the back of my head,” she managed to say past gritted teeth.

“I’m not pushing that hard.”

“You’re pushing hard enough to hurt.”

“I wouldn’t be if you weren’t bleeding like a stuck pig.” Despite the words, his tone was gentle.

Her head hurt, but she’d had worse in the years before Bea had taken her in. She sat up, swiping at his hand again. “I’ll be fine. Just give me whatever you were using to sop up the blood, and I’ll try to stop the bleeding myself.”

He handed her what had once been a white linen napkin. Now it looked more like a blood-soaked washcloth.

“This was one of my good napkins,” she muttered, pressing it against her head anyway.

“It was all I could find.”

“Do you know how much a linen napkin costs?”

“Do you know how much a unit of blood costs?” he responded.

She didn’t, so she pressed her lips together and held the napkin to the bleeding lump. It hurt. A lot, but Lucas was right. She needed to get the bleeding stopped.

“You have a bruise.” Lucas touched her cheek, his fingers grazing tender swollen flesh above the bone. “What happened?”

“I was on my way to my car when someone attacked me.” She shuddered as images of the man who’d grabbed her flashed through her mind.

“Who?”

“I don’t know. He was wearing a ski mask. He asked for money.”

“Do you remember how tall he was? How big?”

She thought back, trying to picture the moment that the man had lunged from the shadows. “I...think he was tall. About your height. Broader, though. I wish I’d noticed more.”

“It’s okay. We’ll get it all figured out after the doctor takes a look at you.”

“Doctor?”

“I called for an ambulance. It should be here any minute.”

“I can’t go to the hospital. I have to get back home. Bea needs me.” She struggled to her feet, the jacket falling to the ground.

“Bea will be fine. I’ll have a patrol car head over to her place so she’ll have a ride to the hospital.”

“She’s going to be worried sick,” Emma mumbled, stars dancing in front of her eyes. She felt woozy and off balance, her ears buzzing and her heart beating an odd uneven rhythm.

She swayed, grabbed the closest thing to her. Found herself clutching Lucas’s arm. It was warm and firm and just a little too comforting. She wanted to step closer, let him wrap his arms around her the way he had so many times when they were kids.

Surprised, she released her hold, stepping back and nearly tripping over a large dog. Brown and black with thick fur and big dark eyes, it looked like an overgrown long-haired German Shepherd. She blinked, sure that she must be imagining things. The dog didn’t disappear.

“There’s a dog in my diner.”

“That’s Henry. He’s my partner,” Lucas explained.

“Partner in what?” She eyed the massive canine.

“Work, Emma. I’m part of the Sagebrush Police Department’s K-9 Unit.”

“I didn’t know they had one.”

“They do.” He took her arm, led her to the kitchen. Sirens were blaring outside, and lights flashed on the pavement beyond the open door. “Looks like the ambulance is here.”

“I really don’t want to go to the hospital,” she tried to protest as a crew of EMTs rushed in.

Too late.

They had her on a gurney so fast she barely realized what was happening.

She blamed it on her injuries. Any other day, she’d have adamantly refused to be transported to the hospital, but she didn’t have the energy to fight. She barely had the energy to keep her eyes open as she was wheeled outside. She managed, though, because she was terrified to close them. She was afraid if she did, she’d open them again and discover herself right back in the middle of the nightmare.

“Do you want me to ride in the ambulance with you?” Lucas asked.

She looked into his face. He’d changed, but he was still the same Lucas, his dark green eyes the color of the pine forests that dotted the mountains, his hair deep chestnut-brown.

“Em?” he pressed, and she shook her head, regretting the movement immediately. Her stomach roiled, and her vision blurred.

“I’ll be fine,” she managed to say, the words sounding thick and far away.

“You sure?”

Not really, but she’d been living on her own for years, doing everything for herself for so long she couldn’t remember what it was like to have someone along for the ride. “Yes.”

“All right. I need to process the crime scene. Then I’ll come to the hospital to finish our interview.” He hurried away, and Emma gave in and closed her eyes.

She didn’t need anyone, but it sure would have been nice to have someone traveling to the hospital with her. Someone who would take care of all the things that needed taking care of while she was there. A person or two or three who could finish painting the diner, put the furniture back inside it, do all the little things that had to be done before the place opened.

It would be nice, but God hadn’t seen fit to fill her life with the kind of people who stuck around when good times went bad. Camden was proof of that.

At least she had Aunt Bea.

For now. Eventually, the disease that was stealing her memories would steal her away.

Emma pushed the thought away, letting herself drift into the darkness and float on the waves of nauseating pain.

THREE

Lucas watched as the ambulance disappeared. He knew where Emma was heading, and he knew there’d be an officer waiting at the hospital for her arrival. He was tempted to head for the hospital anyway. It had been over a decade since he’d last seen Emma. He’d forgotten how full of life she was. Even wounded and bleeding, she had more energy than half the people Lucas knew. He’d found that fascinating when they were younger. His family had been academic and book smart. They hadn’t understood his love of the outdoors or his need for constant action. Emma had understood. She’d been the same way. It had taken them a couple of years to become friends, but once they had, they’d been inseparable. Until she’d moved away, he’d thought they always would be.