Page 80

Tristan exhaled. “If we’re lucky? Twelve hours before someone starts digging.”

Charlotte nodded, her eyes hard with determination. “Then let’s make them count.”

Noah hated moving her. Even with Paul, James and Tristan stabilizing her, even with the wheelchair padded and the oxygen in place, it felt like a betrayal to shift her from the safety of the hospital bed.

Ruth barely stirred as they lifted her. She was too out of it.

Noah gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the way his stomach twisted. She was so damn fragile. But this was the only way.

Charlotte and Izzy watched from the shadows as Noah and Paul wheeled Ruth down the back corridor, flanked by Tristan and James. Noah’s pulse hammered in his ears. One wrong move, one wrong turn, and this would all be over.

They reached the loading dock, where the van was waiting. Evan was behind the wheel.

“Go,” Brad said. “Now.”

Paul helped Noah lift Ruth into the back. She barely reacted. That scared Noah more than he wanted to admit. Paul climbed in next to her, pressing a hand to her wrist. Her pulse was still steady. Weak, but steady. He secured the medical equipment while Evan put the van in motion. They were gone. No turning back now.

Evan drove them away from the hospital, out into the heavy snow. A slow mile out, he pulled to the side of the road, and Noah took the wheel. Brad sat in his truck, waiting for Evan. Noah checked the mirrors on a swivel. Soon, all that remained in his sight was a gray, snowy haze.

The first hour was silent. Paul monitored her vitals. “She’s stable, but she’s running on fumes.” He swallowed hard. “How long until we’re there?”

Noah glanced at him through the rearview mirror. “Three more hours without this blizzard. We’ll see.”

Halfway there, Ruth stirred. She frowned slightly, her eyelids fluttering. She looked… , lost. “Where…?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Noah looked in the mirror. “It’s okay. We’re taking you somewhere safe.”

She frowned deeper. “Safe?”

“Yes.”

She went quiet for a long moment. Then, softly, “Are you taking me home?”

Noah’s chest tightened painfully. Paul’s head snapped up at that. His sharp eyes flicked to Noah, catching everything.

Noah swallowed hard. “Not home, Rae. But somewhere close to it.”

Ruth sighed, barely conscious again.

“Just rest,” he murmured.

Noah didn’t look at his brother. Didn’t need to. Paul had already seen everything he needed to.

By the time they reached Sparrow Ridge Road, the sky had lightened. Noah slowed the van, pulling onto the hidden gravel driveway. The house was secluded but far from primitive. Solar panels lined the roof. A stone chimney rose against the tree line. There was no visible road leading in, only a barely-there path. Noah watched the tire tracks disappear in the blowing snow. It was perfect.

Paul and Noah worked together to get Ruth out of the van. She barely stirred.

Paul shot his brother a sharp look. “She’s worse than before.”

Noah clenched his jaw. He knew.

Paul sighed heavily. “We need to get her inside. Now.”

Noah had expected the house to be barebones, but it wasn’t. The van was well-stocked. Food. Medical supplies. Extra blankets. Everything they could need.

Noah and Paul got Ruth to one of the bedrooms. They set her down gently, adjusting the blankets, making sure the oxygen was flowing. Noah sat beside her.

“I’ll start a fire, and I’ll make you something to eat.” Paul exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face. “She needs real rest. If we’re lucky, she’ll bounce back in a few days.”