The Lawman Returns

DANGEROUS HOMECOMING

Deputy Clay Starke has come home to Wrangler’s Corner for one reason only: to solve his brother’s murder. Denied the official resources that will help him unravel the case, Clay is forced to rely on his wits—and on the help of beautiful social worker Sabrina Mayfield. But Sabrina’s willingness to assist him soon draws her into the troubles of Clay’s past. Now both Clay and Sabrina have targets on their backs, and Clay is at risk of losing not only his heart, but also his life. Will finding his brother’s killer cost him the woman he has come to love?

Wrangler’s Corner: Family comes first

“Someone’s in the house, Clay,” Sabrina whispered.

Fear shooting through his veins, Clay bolted for the golf cart. “What do you mean? Where are you?”

“Hiding in the bathroom. I woke up when I heard footsteps in the hall. Hurry!”

“Stay on the line with me. I’m only a couple of minutes away. Do you know where he is now?”

“No. I can’t hear anything.” A thud sounded.

“Sabrina?”

“He’s in the room, just outside the door. He’s not making any effort to be quiet.”

Clay had to strain to hear her. Her terror reached through the line and grabbed him by the throat. “I’m thirty seconds away.”

Each second seemed like a lifetime until finally, the cottage came into view.

Dread pounded through him. He shoved aside his heavy coat and gripped his Glock, pulling it from the shoulder holster and holding it ready.

He stepped up onto the porch, stood to the side and twisted the knob to the front door. Unlocked. He pushed it open.

Silence greeted him. Fear clutched him. Was he too late?

LYNETTE EASON

makes her home in South Carolina with her husband and two children. Lynette has taught in many areas of education over the past ten years and is very happy to make the transition from teaching school to teaching at writers’ conferences. She is a member of RWA (Romance Writers of America), FHL (Faith, Hope & Love) and ACFW (American Christian Fiction Writers). She is often found online and loves to talkwriting with anyone who will listen. You can find her at www.facebook.com/lynette.eason or www.lynetteeason.com.

The Lawman Returns

Lynette Eason

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.

—1 Samuel 16:7

Dedicated to the heroes who put their lives on the line every day. To those in social work and law enforcement, thank you for what you do. And of course, as always, this book is dedicated to my Lord and Savior who allows me to chase my dream and draw others to Him while doing it.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

EPILOGUE

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Extract

Copyright

ONE

Social worker Sabrina Mayfield pressed the phone to her ear as she pushed away from her desk. “Jordan? What is it?”

“I need your help,” he whispered. “I think I’m in trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?”

Jordan Zellis, one of her kids who’d been in the system but was trying to make something of himself, would call only if he truly needed help.

“I...I need a ride. Will you come get me?”

Sabrina tightened her grip on the phone. “Have you been drinking?”

“No, j-just hanging out with friends. I...ah...started taking some pictures of...you know...the trees and birds and stuff and they...ah...left me here.”

“Where?”

He gave her the address. She heard shuffling and a whisper. Then silence. “Jordan?”

“I’m here.”

Her worry spiked at the new tone in his voice. “What is it?”

“Never mind. I can get home. I’m fine. Don’t come here. Just...just don’t come here, okay?”

“Jordan Zellis, what’s going on? You tell me right now.” Sabrina hoped the maternal-sounding order would get him to talk.

Silence. Sabrina wondered if she’d pushed too hard. Then she heard him suck in a deep breath. “Oh, boy. I think I may be in some deep trouble. I just now found something. I didn’t know...” His voice shook.

“Found what, Jordan?”

An audible gulp. “I think I might know who killed Steven Starke.”

Her throat tightened. Steven Starke, her friend and book buddy. And a Wrangler’s Corner deputy who’d been found dead almost four weeks ago. “What? Who? Who killed him?”

“Don’t come here,” Jordan whispered. “It’s dangerous.”

“Which is why you shouldn’t be there. Get out now.”

“I can’t leave. I’ve got to get— Uh-oh—”

“Jordan?”

But he was gone, the line disconnected.

Sabrina punched in the number for the police department and raced to her car, calling over her shoulder to her boss that she’d be back soon. “Jordan’s in trouble. I’m going to find out what’s going on.”

Rachel came to her door. “You be careful.”

Sabrina waved and pushed through the glass doors, her heart pounding. She gave the information to Tara, the dispatcher, who promised she’d have someone on the way. “Sabrina, don’t do anything stupid.”

“When have I ever done anything stupid?”

Tara paused. “Well, true, I can’t think of anything, but there’s always a first time.”

Sabrina silently agreed. She knew she’d beat the police there. She was only a little over two miles from the address Jordan had given her, but he’d sounded so scared on the phone. He needed her.

Within minutes, she pulled into the gravel drive and stopped to stare at the rusted, dilapidated trailer.

Mondays never brought anything good, and today didn’t look as if it was going to be the exception.

She couldn’t help wondering if she went in, would she come out in one piece.

Wrangler’s Corner, Tennessee, population 1,037, had its share of beauty—and problems, depending on which side of the mountain one lived on. The most prevalent issues in the small town were unemployment and abject poverty.

Dark blankets covered the windows on the inside of the trailer, and trash littered the outside. Someone had strung a sad little strand of Christmas lights around the door of the trailer as though to attempt to offer a small ray of hope.

It didn’t work.

Swallowing her nerves, Sabrina opened the car door, stepped out and tugged her fleece pullover down around her hips. She ignored the late-November wind that whipped her hair across her eyes and sent a chill up her spine.

She approached the ragged wood meant to pass as the front porch. At the bottom of the steps, she assessed it. Would it hold her? She placed one foot on the first step, then the second. It trembled but held.

She reached the top and banged on the door. “Jordan? Are you in there?” Nothing but the sound of the dog barking next door. “Come on, Jordan, you called me!”

The teen had been on her radar for a while. She’d done everything she could to help the kid, even trying to foster his interest in photography and meeting him at the office to tutor him after school. It seemed as if he’d been trying so hard lately, going to school and not causing any trouble. Until now.

Although she had to admit, he’d sounded truly scared on the phone. She banged on the door again. “Jordan!”

A thump sounded from inside. She jerked and stepped back. What was she doing? She shivered. He’d warned her not to come, that it was dangerous. When she’d put the address in her GPS and realized where she was going, she’d almost backed out and let the police handle it.

But Jordan had sounded so scared. And Steven had been her friend. If there was a chance she could find out who killed him, she wasn’t going to pass it up.

However, getting killed wouldn’t help anyone. She didn’t normally worry about that, but in her line of work, she never kidded herself that it couldn’t happen. People got real testy when you took their kids away from them. And sometimes she had to go into areas it was best she didn’t go.

At least not without backup.

She glanced back at her car, then at her watch. Where was the officer? Scanning the area, she spotted a neighbor directly across from her. The woman caught her eye, then stepped back to close the door.

People around here minded their own business. It was safer that way.

She took another step up and held on to the rickety railing. Her nose twitched. The smell of ammonia hung in the air. A hose ran the length of the trailer to disappear into a cracked window.

She knocked again. “Jordan? Come on.”

A clanging sounded to her left. She jerked and turned, slow and easy. Had one of the neighbors dropped something? Kicked a metal can?

Nothing. No, wait.... A shadow? Was someone around the corner of the trailer?

Her gaze flitted from one trailer to the next, looking for any sign of life. Deserted was the word that came to mind. Or everyone was in hiding.

A bad feeling gathered in her midsection, and her pulse picked up speed as her adrenaline surged.

She glanced back toward the end of the trailer where she thought she’d seen the shadow. Was someone watching her?

Ever since Steven had been murdered four weeks ago, she’d felt watched. Spied on. And right now she definitely didn’t feel safe. She glanced back at her car, then swiveled to look at the trailer. But what if Jordan was in there and he needed her? What if he was hurt?

She called the Wrangler’s Corner dispatch. Tara answered. “I’m at the Prescott trailer. Where’s my backup, Tara?”

“He’s on the way. Should be pulling in any minute.”

“Tell him I’ll be waiting in my car.”

“Will do.”

She hung up.

A low wail from inside the trailer reached her ears. She gasped. A baby crying? Or at least a young child. Or was it some sort of animal?

Oh, Lord, please tell me what to do.

She lifted her chin. Only one thing to do when no one answered the door and she thought a kid might need help.

She twisted the knob and felt her heart sink.

The door was locked.

She’d spun to head back to her car to find out where her backup was when a loud crack sounded, followed by a thud near her left ear.

Sabrina froze for a split second. Had someone just shot at her?

* * *

Sheriff’s deputy Clay Starke wheeled to a stop in front of the beat-up trailer. He heard the sharp crack and saw the side of the trailer spit metal.

A shooter.

The woman on the porch careened down the steps and bolted toward him. Terror radiated from her, spiking his adrenaline. He shoved open the door to the passenger side. “Get in!”

Breathless, she landed in the passenger seat and slammed the door. Eyes wide, pupils dark black holes in the blue surrounding them, she lifted shaking hands to push her blond hair out of her eyes.

Clay got on his radio and reported shots fired at the Prescott trailer.

He glanced through the back of the squad car. If someone was shooting, they needed to be somewhere else. He cranked the car and started to back out of the drive.

She grabbed his arm. “No! We can’t leave!”

“What?” He stepped on the brakes. “Lady, if someone’s shooting, I’m getting you out of here.”

She whirled to look out the back, then whipped around to stare at the trailer. “But I think Jordan’s in there and I can’t leave without him.”

“Jordan?”

“A boy I work with. He called me for help. He sounded scared. I’m worried he might be hurt.”

Clay put the car back in Park. “Then stay down and let me check it out.”

She grabbed his arm. “But if you get out, he might shoot you.”

That would definitely ruin his day, but if a kid was in trouble...

He waited. No more shots. “Stay put. I think he might be gone.”

“Or waiting for one of us to get out of the car.”

True. He could feel her gaze on him, studying him, dissecting him. He frowned. “What is it?”

“You.”

He shot a glance behind them, then let his eyes rove the area until he’d gone in a full circle and was once again looking into her pretty face. “What about me?”

Red crept into her cheeks. “You look so much like Steven. Are you his brother?”

He stilled, focusing in on her. “I’m Clay Starke. You knew my brother?”

“Clay? I’m Sabrina Mayfield. Steven and I were good friends. He talked about you so often, I feel like I know you well.”

Sabrina Mayfield. Wow. “We’ll have to catch up later. Can you give me details about what’s going on here?”

“One of my clients called me. He doesn’t actually live here, but this is where he asked me to meet him.” She met his gaze. “I don’t know what he’s doing here, but he said he thought he knew who killed Steven and he needed me to come get him.”

Shock raced through Clay. Finally. After weeks with nothing, this could be the break he’d been looking for. “Then I want to know what he knows.”

“Well, we have to find him first.” She paused and looked out the window. “Without getting shot, preferably.”

Clay checked in with backup. “What’s your ETA?”

“Five minutes.”

Clay stiffened. “Why so long? I’ve got a possible shooter here!”

“Car wreck on I-40. Fatalities involved. All units responded. Now I’ve got two heading your way as fast as they can. More coming ASAP. Sit tight and don’t take any unnecessary risks.”

Right. He’d heard the car-wreck call but hadn’t thought about it, since he’d already had his assignment.

And there hadn’t been any reports of shots when he’d gotten it. Great. He had a possible shooter and was on his own with a woman and a possible kid to protect.

“I didn’t realize you were back,” Sabrina said. Her voice quivered and she clasped her hands together in front of her. “Steven said you were really busy in Nashville. That you’d just passed your detective’s exam.” She seemed to want to talk about anything but what had happened. What might still be happening.

Her way of coping, probably.

“Yes.” He forced the word from his tight throat as guilt ate at him. He should have come home when Steven called him. But he hadn’t, and his brother had died. Now Clay was home to find out who’d killed him. His first week back in Wrangler’s Corner he’d attended his brother’s funeral. The second week had consisted of the sheriff, Ned Anderson, convincing him he needed to take the now-open deputy position. The past two weeks had been spent getting into a routine. And while his main goal was to find his brother’s murderer, he’d also had to deal with ongoing family stuff.

Clay swallowed hard and pushed Steven out of his mind. For now. He craned his neck and looked through the windows, behind, in front. “No sign of the shooter.”

“No one’s answering the door. I think I heard a child crying.” She gripped the door handle.

“Any shots from inside the trailer?”

“No, but I’m afraid for Jordan. He didn’t answer the door when I knocked, but I heard...something. It was a child. I’m almost sure of it.”

“Stay here.”

He climbed out of the car. The trailer door opened just as he took a step. A young boy peered out. When he saw Clay, his eyes widened and he slammed the door.

The passenger door opened, and the social worker darted toward the trailer.

“Hey!”

“Sorry,” she yelled over her shoulder. “That’s Tony, Jordan’s little brother.” Before he could stop her, she was back up the steps and banging on the door.

Clay followed, expecting to hear the bark of a rifle and feel the bite of a bullet.

He leaned around her and tried the door. “Locked.”

“Tony! Open the door, hon!”

He was close enough to get a whiff of a tangy orange scent that almost covered the ammonia smell. Subtle and spicy. He was also close enough to see the bullet hole in the trailer next to her head.

He made sure he had her covered but squirmed as the middle of his back tingled. A perfect target for a shooter.

A wailing cry split the air. Clay lifted a brow. “Okay, that’s it.” He moved around Sabrina, leaned his shoulder against the flimsy door and shoved. Hard.

With a pop, the door swung in. Clay stepped inside and came to a stop. In the space of about half a second, he noticed two things. The stench that turned his stomach—and two pairs of bright blue eyes that met his. Two children stood at the entrance to the hallway, looking as if they were ready to bolt.

The little girl wrapped her arms around her big brother and buried her face in his stomach, but not before Clay saw the tears on her cheeks, heard her trying to stifle her sobs.

The big brother settled his hands on her shoulders and glared back at Clay, defiance and fear mingling.

Sabrina stepped around him. “Tony? Maria? What are you guys doing here?” Her voice was soft and low. Clay decided if he was a kid, he would have trusted her instantly. “Where’s Jordan?”

“He left,” Tony said.

“Why would he leave you here?”

The boy shrugged, trying to be brave and failing miserably. “He looked out the window and said for us to sneak away as soon as he was out of sight. He said to be careful ’cause there was a bad man outside. He said he’d make sure the bad man followed him while we got away and hid in the woods. Then he’d come back and take us home.”

“Bad man?” Clay asked.

“I saw you when I opened the door. I thought you might be the bad man.”

“He’s a deputy, hon,” Sabrina said. “Didn’t you see his uniform?”

Tony’s lower lip trembled, but he managed a manly shrug. “I don’t know. But we weren’t scared or nothin’.”

Sabrina moved forward to gather the little girl in her arms and whisper in her ear.

While Sabrina talked to the children, Clay took in the surroundings. Everything around him shouted meth lab. The smell, the hose through the window, the Pyrex bowls on the stove, the blankets and plastic on the windows. He turned and spoke into his radio. “Got a possible meth lab here. We’re going to need someone to clean it up.”

He wondered who the sheriff would call. Federal law mandated only DEA-certified individuals could dismantle a meth lab. Clay seriously doubted there was anyone qualified in Wrangler’s Corner.

He checked the window again. So Jordan had seen a “bad man” and left to draw him away from the trailer so the little ones could sneak out.

Clay touched her arm. “Come on, Sabrina, get them and let’s go There’s no telling what we’re breathing.”

Sabrina held out her hand to Tony. “Please, come with me, sweetheart.”

Tony reached for her hand and then froze. His eyes widened, and fear flashed across his face.

Clay spun to find himself staring down the barrel of a Winchester .45.

TWO

Sabrina gave a small cry and threw herself in front of the children. Stan Prescott stood in the open door with his rifle leveled at Clay’s head. “Stan, what are you doing?”

“You’re trespassing.”

“And you’re going to jail,” Clay said. “Unless you put that gun away. Last time I checked, shooting at people was a crime.”

Stan snorted. “My whole life is a crime. What are you doing on my property? What are those kids doing here?”

“Why were you shooting at me? Where’s Jordan?” Sabrina asked.

“Shooting at you? I wasn’t shooting at nobody, but I’m a-fixin’ to.”

“Put the gun down,” Clay ordered. His sharp tone bounced off Stan, who kept the weapon level and mostly steady. “Who’s Jordan?”

Sabrina noted the missing teeth, the sores on his face. He and Clay were the same age, she remembered Steven saying, but Stan looked a good twenty years older. She curled her fingers into fists. She sent up silent prayers as Clay held his hands where Stan could see them.

“Why are you even arguing about this, man?” Clay asked. “Where’s Lacey?”

Fury flashed. “She left me. Now, why are you in my home?” Gravel crunched outside under the wheels of the cruisers as the police arrived, completely unaware of what was going on inside the little trailer.

Stan heard it, too, and he flinched, moved inside and shut the door behind him.

Her stomach twisted. What would he do? How would they get past him?

She realized this might very well become a hostage situation. “Stan? The cops are outside. You don’t want any trouble, do you?” She kept her voice low.

Stan swallowed, and the gun wavered.

Clay moved and tackled the man to the trailer floor.

Sabrina wrapped her arms around the children’s shoulders and hurried them to the back bedroom. Away from the possibility of being shot if the gun went off. “Stay here,” she whispered.

A small hand gripped hers. “Don’t leave me,” Maria begged.

Sabrina’s heart slammed against her chest. What to do? Clay might need her help. But Maria had a firm grip, and the terror in her eyes said she wasn’t going to let Sabrina out of her sight.

Sabrina heard the thumps and grunts of the fight going on in the front room. Her eyes jumped from the unmade bed to the end table to the dresser as she fought to figure out what she should do to help Clay. Tony wiggled away from her, and when he did, a small black object dropped to the floor. Her eyes zoomed in on the wallet, and she drew in a deep breath. And coughed. First things first. She knelt. “I’ve got to, for just a minute. I need to help Mr. Clay, okay?”

Tony pulled his sister from Sabrina. “Okay. Go help him.”

Sabrina shot him a grateful look and raced down the short hall to find Clay and Stan locked together, Stan’s fingers wrapped around the rifle, Clay’s grip around Stan’s wrist. Sabrina grabbed the nearest lamp, hefted it and brought it down across the back of Stan’s shoulders.

He gave a harsh cry and went limp. The brief moment was enough for Clay to yank the rifle away. Stan staggered to his feet, lunged for the back door and crashed through it.

Sabrina bolted to the window as Clay scrambled after the man. The officers, caught by surprise, weren’t ready for the wild man who’d burst from the trailer, and soon Stan disappeared into the trees.

Deputies gave chase. Clay stumbled after them but tripped and fell down the steps to land with a thud at the bottom. He turned, his face red, a welt on his cheek, puckered and sore looking. Sabrina met him at the bottom of the back porch steps, which seemed to be in much better condition than the front. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

She whirled. “I’m going to get the kids.”

“I’m going after Stan.” He grunted and hauled himself to his feet.

She heard his pounding footsteps as she hurried back into the trailer to find Tony and Maria clutching one another while an officer knelt in front of them. Officer Donnie Kingston. She’d worked with him before.

Maria spotted Sabrina and broke away from her brother to hurl herself into Sabrina’s arms. Stunned, Sabrina hesitated only a fraction of a second before pulling the little girl’s undernourished body up against her.

Donnie turned. “Come on, Sabrina, this place is toxic. We need to get out of here and let the guys with the suits take over.” She knew he meant the team that would come in to clean up the meth lab. Since they came from out of town, it would take them a while to get there. Sabrina reached for Tony’s hand, but he knelt and snagged the wallet on the floor. Donnie sighed with exasperation. “Come on, kid, it’s dangerous in here. You can’t take that with you. It’s not yours.”

Tony’s jaw jutted. “Is too. Jordan said I’m ’posed to watch over it and make sure nothing happened to it.”

Sabrina coughed. She needed fresh air. She nodded to Donnie, who took a step toward Tony just as the door opened and Clay stepped inside. The welt on his cheek looked as if it hurt. He looked at the foursome. “He got away, but officers are looking for him.” Clay dropped in front of Tony. “Where are your mom and dad?”

Tony shrugged. “Don’t got a dad. My mom’s got a new boyfriend. I think she went with him somewhere.” His lower lip trembled again. “Jordan’s supposed to be taking care of us till she gets back.”

Clay looked at Sabrina. “Where do they live?”

“On the edge of town about two miles from here.”

“You want to try to get in touch with their mom?”

“Sure.” She pulled her phone out. Tony and Maria had been in and out of the system once already.

There was no answer. She hung up and sighed. Then called her boss on her personal line.

Rachel Keys answered. “Hello?”

Sabrina filled her in on the situation and waited for Rachel’s direction. For a moment Rachel was silent. Then she said, “I’ll send someone out to the house. You get the kids to the hospital to get checked out, and I’ll get back to you.”

“Okay, just text me the address where they’ll be staying. Thanks.” She hung up and turned to the children. “Looks like you guys are going with me for a little while tonight. Is that all right?”

Maria smiled. Tony shrugged. It wasn’t the first time he’d spent the night in a strange place. And at least he knew and trusted her. As much as he trusted anybody.

Clay shifted his attention to Tony. “Will you let me piggyback you out of here and get some ice cream?” Sabrina caught the subtle undercurrent of tension running through his words, but she didn’t think Tony noticed. Without waiting for his consent, Clay dropped to his knees on the filthy floor. “Hop on.”

“What about Jordan? What if he comes back? He told us to sneak out. We were going to run home. How will he find us now?”

Clay glanced at Sabrina. She touched the boy’s head. “He knows how to find me, honey. He’ll call me as soon as he can, I’m sure. I’ll tell him where you are.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure. I really am.”

He stepped over to Clay. “Fine.” He wrapped his bony arms around Clay’s neck and crawled onto his back. Clay stood, and Sabrina felt relief sweep through her. The faster they got out, the better.

Within seconds, they were outside the trailer. Sabrina pulled in a breath of fresh air and wondered if she’d ever get the smell of the trailer out of her nose.

Other law enforcement continued their search for Stan Prescott. Sabrina hoped they found him soon. She stared at Clay as he talked to one of the other officers. Did he remember her? He was six years her senior and had graduated high school the year she turned twelve. He’d have no reason to remember her.

Although as soon as he’d heard her name, he’d probably remembered the rumors, the gossip, the snickers that had run rampant about her mother and his uncle. It hadn’t mattered to Steven that her mother had left his uncle at the altar almost thirty years ago, but Sabrina knew some people had long memories. How long was Clay’s?

Feeling Maria’s warm body next to hers just brought home the unfairness of it all. And reminded her why she did what she did, took the chances she took. Sabrina’s heart went out to these innocent children.

She walked to her car and opened the back door. Never knowing when she would have to transport a child, she had three different car seats—two in her trunk and one for Maria’s age strapped into the seat. She untangled the child’s arms from around her neck and settled her in the seat. She handed her a stuffed teddy bear. “Would you like a new friend?”

Maria hugged the bear while Tony slid into the seat next to her. Sabrina reached into the bag on the floor in front of Maria’s feet and pulled out another bear and a fire truck. “Tony, would you like a new friend or a toy?”

Clay buckled the child in. Tony looked at the bear and the truck with equal longing. Sabrina moved the bear’s face up close and tapped Tony’s cheek with it as though offering a kiss. The boy smiled and ducked his head.

One grimy hand snagged the bear and tucked him under his chin. Sabrina set the truck next to him and turned to find Clay standing much too close. She couldn’t back up and she didn’t want to look silly scuttling sideways to put some distance between them.

She looked up, and her nose bumped his chin. She saw him swallow and was grateful when he stepped back a pace. “Are you taking them to the hospital?” he asked.

“Yes. I don’t think there’s anything seriously wrong with them that a few good meals and some vitamins won’t fix, but I have to follow protocol.”

Clay shook his head. “I’ll follow you to the hospital.” He ran a hand down his face in a weary gesture.

“You don’t have to. We’ll be fine.”

Something flickered in his eyes as his gaze darted between the children, then back to her. “I want to talk to you about Steven.”

Sabrina didn’t know what he thought she could tell him but didn’t have the energy to argue. “I’m taking them to Wrangler’s General.” It was a smaller hospital located in the center of town, but the staff was efficient. If something turned up and the kids needed more intensive care than she thought, then they would be transferred to a larger hospital in Nashville about an hour away. But she didn’t think that was going to be necessary.