Page 114 of Bad For Me (Rock Canyon, Idaho 5)

It was empty.

Spinning around, she looked off in the distance, but there was nothing but blackness and snow. Not even footprints, although with the snow falling so fast and hard, she supposed they could have been covered up.

Maybe he got a ride home.

Then Callie looked down at the shovel and back up to the broken window and started laughing hysterically.

Everett was going to be pissed.

Callie threw the snow shovel back into the bed of the truck and unlocked the door through the window. Sticking her jacket into the door, she managed to cover the broken window, hoping it would keep most of the snow out of the cab. She was pretty sure she had another sweatshirt in the car, and besides, she was going to take Fred right home anyway.

Once she made her way back to the Jeep, she opened the door with a laugh. “Fred, you are never going to believe what I . . . Fred?”

Fred was hunched over, and Ratchet was nudging him, whimpering. Callie climbed in and put her fingers to his neck. There was a pulse. Had he just passed out? She shone the light on his face and saw his chin was covered with blood.

There was blood everywhere, all over the front of him.

Yanking her gloves off, she grabbed her cell and dialed 911.

Be okay. Be okay.

And while she waited for the operator to speak, Everett’s smiling face flashed through her mind.

Please be okay.

“IT’S NOT UNCOMMON for patients with advanced cases of pancreatitis to vomit blood, especially if they have a drink,” the doctor said.

“But is he going to be okay?” Callie asked. She was standing in the hallway of St. Luke’s Hospital in Twin Falls. She’d called Everett’s phone a dozen times, but the minute that it went to voicemail, she hung up. She’d called Justin, who said he’d stop by Everett’s place and then come to the hospital.

“We’re running a few more tests, but he should be able to go home in a few hours.”

Relief swept through Callie, and she reached out to take the doctor’s hand. “Thank you so much.”

“If you ask me, he really shouldn’t be drinking at all. If there is any way to get him into a program, I’d do it.”

“Callie!” She turned to see Justin rushing toward her and cried out when he wrapped her up in a huge bear hug.

“Thank you so much for picking him up and being there.”

Callie hugged him back, smiling. “Of course.” Her smile dissolved, though, as she looked around his shoulder. “Is Everett with you?”

“No, he wasn’t home.”

“Um, Justin, this is Dr. Wilson. He says Fred is going to be okay and can probably go home in a few hours.”

As Justin turned his attention to the doctor, Callie pulled out her phone again. Hitting Everett’s picture, she let it ring through to his voicemail. At least if he was hurt and someone was taking care of him, they might try to find his family. Maybe they’d hear her voicemail and call her back.

“Hey, it’s Everett. Leave your message at the beep . . . and Whiskey?”—Callie’s breath and heart stopped—“I’m still waiting.”

Tears choked her as his voicemail beeped, and she tried to speak, but it came out kind of garbled. “Rhett, it’s me. I broke the window of your truck because I thought you were inside, and I’m sorry, but I love you. Please . . . just please call me. Your dad is sick, and I am so worried about you.”

“CAN I GIVE you a lift home?” Larry, the guy Everett had almost crashed into, asked.

They were standing next to his truck in the heavy snowfall, watching the tow truck driver, Carlos, connect a long, thick cable to his truck bumper. Everett was sporting a nasty headache from hitting his head, but overall, he was okay. Thank God, Larry had come back to help after Everett’s car had hit that pole, or he might have frozen to death trying to find the nearest house.

It was terrifyingly ironic that on the anniversary of his mother’s death, he had nearly died the same way.

“Thanks, a ride home would be great,” Everett said, already feeling guilty for putting the guy out. Larry had driven him up to Jose’s an hour ago, where Everett had managed to rouse someone to come back with them and tow his truck back to the garage. On the way back, Larry had swung him by Buck’s, but Eric said Callie had already picked up his dad.