The Parent Plan
The great Grand Springs blackout had impacted everyone–especially little Vicky Sloane, who had survived a long, lonely night trapped in a darkened cave. She'd emerged a town celebrity, but the incident took its toll on her family.Cassidy and Karen Sloan–were their differences irreconcilable? The taciturn rancher knew there had to be a way to win back his beautiful doctor wife. Was he up to the challenge? Could his little girl's wisdom show him the way to lead his heart home? .
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As a devastating summer storm hits Grand Springs, Colorado, the next thirty-six hours will change the town and its residents foreverâ¦
Dr. Karen Sloane is used to being in charge and saving lives at the hospital. But she feels shattered and helpless when her daughter Vicki goes missing in the storm. Her only comfort is in her husband, Cassidyâs, strong arms. When Cassidy accuses Karen of neglecting Vicki, his anger toward her is as chilling as the cold rain.
For rancher Cassidy Sloane, family is the most important thing in life. All he ever wanted was to take care of his wife and daughter. But now Karen seems to care about her patients more than her family, and Vickiâs been put in danger.
Will Vickiâs accident bring this loving but strong-willed couple together or drive them further apart?
Book 11 of the 36 Hours series. Donât miss the final book in the series: Solving the mayorâs murder could be Martin Smithâs only chance at regaining his memoryâbut heâll need computer guru Juliet Crandallâs help to do it in You Must Remember This by Marilyn Pappano.
Contents
Prologue
Saturday, June 7
Lazy S Ranch.
Dr. Karen Sloane was used to working under pressure. In med school, sheâd found out she was a wimp when it came to dealing with the suffering of others and sheâd trained herself to remain absolutely steady, her mind clear, her reflexes lightning quick. But now, standing alone near the makeshift canteen just beyond the glaring spotlights that bathed the side of Devil Butte in brilliant light, she was close to shattering.
Silhouetted by the harsh glow, rescue workers in protective clothing and minersâ helmets struggled to reach the spot below a thick slab of red rock where her eight-year-old daughter, Victoria, was trapped in the entrance of an unknown cave. Torrential rains had tumbled tons of rock and earth from the face of the butte, exposing the dark pit.
In the past ten hours since her arrival, sheâd experienced shock, disbelief, terror, and finally a numb misery that increased minute by minute. Only one thing remained constant. Vicki was alone in that pitâand time was running out.
Karen had been on duty at Vanderbilt Memorial when Cassidy had called around ten that morning, and told her to come home. She could still hear the raw note in her husbandâs distinctively husky voice, the stark undertones of desperation. The unspoken plea for help.
Somehow sheâd managed to get through the roadblocks and detours set up by the state police, and sheâd reached the site to the west of the main house shortly after Lieutenant Brendan Gallagher and the fire departmentâs mountain rescue unit had begun on the rescue shaft now angled down toward her little girl.
Cassidy had been like a crazy man, shouting at Bren to let him help, threatening his poker buddy with castration and worse if Bren didnât give him something to do. Something. anything. If he had to, heâd claw his way to his daughter with his bare hands.
Catching sight of Karen half running, half stumbling down the mud-scoured slope, Bren had silently pleaded with her for help. Sheâd put aside her questions long enough to coax Cassidy away from the knot of grim-faced, dedicated men. A shiver transited her spine at the wild suffering she saw in his eyes. For an instant she wasnât sure he even knew who she was. And then his arms crushed her to him, his need a living thing.
Between hard shudders, he told her about Vickiâs trip to the butte with her dog, Rags, and her regular baby-sitter, Wanda June, to watch the clouds. About the tons of mud that had torn down the hill. Of their little girlâs sudden disappearance and Wandaâs frantic search of the area before sheâd run across the storm-ravaged pastures to find Cassidy.
It had been Rags whoâd led him to the raw gash in the granite.
The torn flesh of Cassidyâs face and hands bore testimony to his attempts to reach their child. But his shoulders had been too broad to allow him to reach into the black pit where Vicki had been trapped.
Knowing her husbandâs almost irrational fear for his daughterâs safety, Karen had a good idea how terribly heâd been suffering when heâd all but ridden a gelding into the ground in order to call for help. She suspected, too, that leaving Vicki with only Wanda and Rags to guard the site had almost torn him apart.
But when Karen tried to comfort him, he suddenly stiffened, as though jerked out of a terrible nightmare. His face twisted, his head snapped up. The arms that had bruised her flesh, so tightly had they held her, relaxed.
Suddenly he was in control again, his gaze steely, his emotions shuttered safely, as he jerked his hat from his head, placed it on hers and ordered her into taking his slicker, all the while castigating her for not wearing a jacket, for driving too fast, for a half dozen things she no longer remembered.
