A/N: Thank your for the reviews, Virtute and Freestar! Sorry about the cliffie, Virtute. LOL And yes, Joe is 21 with a new girlfriend...his hormones are raging. ;-) Freestar, I'm so glad you're enjoying the story and it reminds you of the show. I used to watch it every Sunday night...a dream come true for a 10 year old girl in the late 70s...my favorite books and two teen idols combined. LOL I loved the way Frank and Joe teased each other on the show, and I hope I can convey at least some of that here. Thanks again to all who are reading!

Chapter 31

Joe slowly felt himself waking up. Damn, my head hurts. He tried to move. Damn, everything hurts. Where am I? He struggled to make his brain focus; to recall what on earth had landed him in his current predicament. And clearly, it was a predicament of some sort. Was I kidnapped? Hit over the head by some thug?

He reached his hand up to brush his hairline and winced. That was a definite possibility. Eyes still half closed, he groped around. I'm in a car. A car. His eyes shot open. Emily! I remember now. We got run off the road. Ignoring the pain in his head, he frantically searched the vehicle. Oh, no. Where is she? Oh, God, please don't tell me she was thrown. Or worse, that maniac came and got her while I was knocked out. "Emily!" came the guttural cry from his mouth.

OOOOOoooooOOOOO

Emily ducked down behind a patch of roadside weeds as a vehicle approached the scene of the accident. It slowed down and came to a stop. When she saw that it was an old pickup truck, and not the sedan that had run them off the road, she sighed with relief and stepped into the path of his headlights.

A man in his sixties stepped out of the driver's side and walked over to her. He had on an old baseball cap, a flannel shirt and overalls. He reminded her of her Uncle Ed, a cattle rancher in Oklahoma. Emily's eyes filled with tears as she ran to the man. "I need your help," she said, her voice breaking. "My boyfriend's hurt."

"Whoa, slow down, little lady," the farmer said. "Where's your boyfriend?"

"In the c-car," she stammered. "Someone ran us off the road." She grabbed his arm and began tugging him towards the ravine. "Please, I can't move him by myself."

"Okay, not a problem." The man allowed himself to be led down the embankment. "Someone ran you off the road, you say?"

Emily nodded. She dropped the man's arm and ran ahead to the vehicle. She hurried to the driver's side door, but Joe was gone.

OOOOOoooooOOOOO

Joe had eased himself out of the driver's side window, ignoring the intense pounding in his head, and stared at the field around him. She hadn't been thrown. He was sure of that. Based on how the car had been run off the road, there'd only be a few areas where she could have landed. Not to mention, his body would have blocked the driver's side window, and the front windshield was still intact. Joe touched his head again, feeling the makeshift bandage Emily had placed on him. And she was obviously here to put this bandage on my head.

His heart began racing. That left only one other explanation. The man pursuing them had returned for her. Joe's stomach twisted with fear. He needed to find her, but how? He was in the middle of who knows where, and even by his own untrained assessment, not in the best condition at the moment. He pressed forward, knowing he had to reach the road. I have to get to a phone. I have to help her. I won't lose her. Not now, not when she's finally mine.

He paused, blinking, as he tried to steady himself against the wooziness he was feeling. He staggered forward for another step or two, until he the blackness overtook him and he collapsed on the ground.

OOOOOoooooOOOOO

Emily didn't know what to think. Where could he be? The tears spilled down her cheeks. I bet he left and went to look for me. Oh, Joe. She bit her lip, and turned from the car.

"Where are you going?" the farmer asked her. "I thought you said your boyfriend was in the car."

"He was," she replied, scanning the grassy area, "but he's not now."

"Did you get hit on the head, sweetheart?" the man asked.

"No. I don't know. Maybe," Emily said with a sigh, misunderstanding his question. "Joe was here when I went up to the road. He must have thought something happened to me and he got out of the car. He shouldn't be walking. He's hurt."

"Okay, well then he couldn't have gone far. Let's look around."

Emily swiped at the tears in her eyes and began to walk in the most likely direction she thought Joe would have taken. "Joe!" she called, tearfully. "Joe, where are you?" She headed towards the road, hoping he was going for help just as she did.

As she picked her way through the tall weeds along the embankment, she noticed a flash of white. Joe's sneakers. "Oh, no," she gasped. She ran forward, dropping to her knees as she spotted him, crumpled on the ground. "Joe!" she cried, reaching for him.

"Did you find him?" the farmer called.

"Yes, over here." Emily bent down and brushed his hair back. His head wound was still bleeding. She checked his pulse and his breathing, and finding them both to be strong, cradled his head in her lap, while she waited for the farmer to arrive. "Oh, Joe, please be okay. Please."

"Looks like he got a nice bonk on the head," the farmer commented as he approached Emily.

"That was from the accident." She looked up. "We need to get him some help."

"Well, you're in luck. You're on my property and my wife is a nurse." He bent over. "Let me just get him over my shoulder and into the truck. The house isn't more than a half mile from here."

Emily looked at the elderly man with a doubtful expression. "Can you lift him?"

"Honey, I lift sacks of grain every day that weigh more than he does. If you can get him into a sitting position, I'll take it from there."

She held Joe's head as she slid her legs out from under him. While she was raising his shoulders up from the ground, Joe stirred.

"W-what? What are you doing?" His voice was thick.

"Joe?" She braced him from behind as his eyes fluttered open.

"Em, I found you," he said weakly.

She smiled through her tears. "Yes, you found me."

"I was worried. Are you hurt?"

"No, but you are. So stay still and we'll get you out of here."

The farmer reached for Joe's arm, and he and Emily helped him to his feet.

"Can you walk, son? Or would you like me to carry you?"

Joe blinked and turned to the farmer. "No, I think I've got it. I'm just a little dizzy." He leaned against Emily as she held him around the waist with both arms and glanced at the farmer. "Who are you?"

"I just live down the road apiece," he explained. "I thought I heard a crash and when I got to the street, I spotted your girl coming for help." He started to lead them towards the truck. "Now let's go get you home. You took a nasty hit to the head, son."

OOOOOoooooOOOOO

Emily paced nervously back and forth while Mrs. Wilson, the farmer's wife, examined Joe's head injury. Mr. Wilson hung up their old-fashioned wall telephone and turned around. "David said he'll be along in a minute, Mother."

Mrs. Wilson nodded. "That's fine, dear." She dipped a gauze pad in a bowl of warm water. "I'm just going to clean up some of this blood and we'll see what we've got here."

Joe flinched as she touched the gauze to his head and a little sound of distress escaped from Emily. The farmer looked in her direction. "Now don't you be worrying none, little missy. He couldn't be in better hands. My wife's been a nurse for well over thirty years now. And my son David...that's who I was just talking to...he's a doctor and he'll be along in a little bit."

She nodded mutely, her eyes wide as she stared at Joe, who was seated in a red vinyl covered chair in front of Mrs. Wilson's Formica kitchen table, his head bent backwards slightly as the nurse daubed at his wound.

Mrs. Wilson looked up at Emily. "Do you want to come and hold this on his head, hon, while I check him for other injuries?"

Emily hurried over and reached out her shaking hand to hold Joe's gauze in place. The farmer's wife looked up at her. "Oh, you poor dear, you've had quite a shock, haven't you?" She turned to her husband. "Hank, would you make her a cup of chamomile tea, please?"

Mr. Wilson nodded and moved towards the stove. His wife patted Emily's hand. "Oh, your fingers are like ice, dear." A slightly worried look crossed her face. "As soon as we're finished with your beau here, I'm going to take a look at you."

Joe reached out for Emily's free hand and took it in his own. He gave her a wan smile. "I'm okay. Don't worry."

"I can't help it," she said and sniffled.

Mrs. Wilson smiled at her. "It's not too serious. Head wounds always bleed profusely. He just needs a few stitches."

The nurse moved her hands over Joe's clavicles and arms on both sides of his body. "My son David will check for any neurological problems, but really, I think he's going to be just fine."

"The police should be here in a few minutes, too. And we'll get a tow truck to come fetch your car out of that ditch in the morning." Mr. Wilson reached for a mug in a nearby cabinet. "Is there anybody you'd like us to call for you?"

"Um, yeah, my brother," Joe spoke up. "He'll come and get us."

"Not tonight he won't," Mrs. Wilson said firmly. "You two are both staying right here where I can keep an eye on you."

"Oh, you don't have to do that," Joe protested. "You've already been so helpful. We don't want to put you out."

Mrs. Wilson stood and began putting items back in her first-aid kit. "You're not putting us out. You shouldn't be moved right now. And besides, your sweetheart has had a very traumatic time of it. I don't want her going anywhere until I'm sure she's all right."

Joe looked at Emily and for the first time saw how pale she was. Her body was trembling slightly and her fingers were still cold. "Honey, sit down," he ordered.

"Not until this bleeding stops," she said, adjusting the gauze against his wound.

Joe replaced her hand with his own. "It's not going to stop until the doctor stitches it up. Sit down."

Mr. Wilson approached the kitchen table with a mug of hot tea. "You'd best listen to him, young lady. You look like you're about to fall over."

Emily managed to get herself into the kitchen chair next to Joe and immediately encircled the mug of tea with both her hands to try and warm them. The back door to the kitchen opened and a man in his mid-thirties entered the room.

"Someone told me I have a patient waiting in here?"

Joe raised his hand and managed a smile. "That'd be me. The one with the gushing head wound."

Dr. Wilson paused and kissed his mother on the cheek as he passed her. "I'm surprised Florence Nightingale hasn't stitched you up already. She's much better at it than I am."

Mrs. Wilson waved her hand and gave a sheepish smile. "Maybe in my younger days, but I don't trust my eyesight so much anymore."

Dr. Wilson stood in front of Joe and lifted the bloodied gauze from his head to examine it. "Don't let her fool you. She's just being modest." He reached for his doctor's bag. "I'm David Wilson."

"Joe Hardy." He gestured to the table. "That's my girlfriend, Emily Clark. I'd really appreciate it if you'd make sure she's okay when you're done with me."

"I'd be happy to." He took out a syringe. "Now I'm going to need to numb this so I can work on it. And I won't lie. It's going to sting."

Joe nodded and Emily rose from her seat to take his hand.

OOOOOoooooOOOOO

"Think I'm going to make a surprise visit to Perriton early tomorrow morning," Frank announced as he walked through the door of the Hardy home.

"It's a school holiday, isn't it?" Fenton asked. "Sure he'll even be at the museum?"

"No, but I'm betting there's a good chance." Frank hung up his jacket in the coat closet. "And when I see him, I'm going to give him a friendly hello smack in his upper arm."

Fenton laughed. "If he falls over, writhing in pain from a stab wound near his shoulder, I'd say you've got your man."

Before Frank could reply, the telephone began to ring. Fenton held up a hand and stepped into his office to answer it. "Hello? Yes, this is the Hardy home. With whom am I speaking?"

Frank noticed the concerned look on his father's face as he entered the office and moved quietly toward the desk, perching himself on the corner.

"Mr. Wilson? And, you're from where?" Fenton gestured for the legal pad near Frank. "What happened to Joe and Emily?" He scribbled something, then handed the tablet to Frank, whose mouth dropped open as he read it.

"Car accident?" Frank mouthed.

Fenton nodded. "Are they all right?" A sigh escaped him. "Okay, yeah, that doesn't sound too bad. Yes, thank you. I'm very grateful for your help." Fenton nodded and motioned for the legal pad. He began writing down the Wilsons' address. "Yes. Thank you for letting them stay with you. I really appreciate it. And thank your son for me as well. Okay, we'll come to your house first thing in the morning if that's all right." He looked up at Frank, who nodded. "No, don't disturb him. As long as they're both fine, it can wait until tomorrow. Thank you again, Mr. Wilson." Fenton hung up the phone.

"Someone ran them off the road?" Frank asked.

"Yeah. Intentionally from what it sounds like." Fenton shook his head. "I don't know what to make of this."

Frank crossed his arms in front of him. "When did it happen?"

"About an hour ago."

"It couldn't have been Perriton."

"I know." Fenton sighed. "That's what has me confused. If Emily has something Perriton is looking for, it stands to reason that he's the one who's been harassing her, but now..."

"It doesn't make sense." Frank stood and began pacing the floor. "Are there two people looking for this 'something?'"

"Maybe. Or maybe the road rage incident has to do with something else."

"Like what?"

"I don't know," Fenton replied. "Maybe Joe can fill us in tomorrow. Without all the information, we can only speculate at this point."

"Are they okay?"

"Yeah. Joe took a hit to the head and had to get some stitches. The car slid into a ditch on a farmer's property and he rescued them," Fenton explained. "Luckily his son happens to be a doctor, so he came over and took care of Joe."

Frank grinned. "He has a hard head. He'll be fine."

"He got that from his old man, too," Fenton said with a smile. "Emily was pretty shaken up though."

"Poor thing. She's been through the wringer lately."

Fenton gave him a wry grin. "I'm sure your brother will take care of her. That Hardy charm and all."

"I'm sure he will, too." Frank clapped his hands together. "Looks like I'm off to the Wilsons' farm tomorrow instead of interrogating Perriton."

"I can move my schedule around a bit," Fenton told him. "I'll go pay a visit to Perriton."

"Thanks, Dad."

"No problem. I'll even slap him on the arm for you."

OOOOOoooooOOOOO

Emily stared down at Joe, who was stretched out on the leather recliner in the Wilsons' study where he was going to spend the night, and bit her lip. "Are you sure you're going to be okay here?"

"I'm fine," he assured her, adjusting his pillow and wincing.

"No, you're not," she replied, kneeling next to him. "I don't feel comfortable leaving you here by yourself." She gazed around the room. "How about I sleep on the couch?"

"How about you sleep here?" Joe patted the recliner invitingly. "There's plenty of room."

She feigned shock. "We've been together for what? Six hours? And already you're asking me to sleep with you? You're a fast mover, Joe Hardy."

He raised his eyebrows suggestively and Emily dissolved into giggles. "You're going to be very hard for me to resist, mister."

He gave her a lazy grin. "I'm counting on it."

She sat down next to him and swatted him gently. "What am I going to do with you?"

He rested his head against the back of the recliner. "Oh, I can think of a couple things.

She leaned over him. "Oh, really?"

Joe reached his hand up behind her neck and pulled her close. "Starting with this." He kissed her softly.

"Mmmm," Emily relaxed into him. "That was nice. But I think you need to rest."

"I am," he teased. "I'm lying down. Besides, Dr. Wilson didn't give me any other instructions except to keep my head elevated tonight." He kissed her again, more passionately this time.

Emily broke away, but kept her mouth close to his. "Yes, but shouldn't you be sleeping? Getting your strength back?"

Joe pressed his lips to hers once more and when the kiss ended, he murmured, "You're making me feel better. That's what you're supposed to do."

She giggled and touched her finger to the tip of his nose. "I think you're stretching the doctor's orders a bit, don't you?"

Joe ran his hands up and down her back longingly as he pulled her in for another deep kiss. "I think he would agree with me completely on this one."

"Hmmm, well, as your head nurse, I'm going to insist that you get your sleep right now." She cuddled into him, resting her head on his chest and pulling the comforter over both of them. "But, if you're a very good patient, I promise that some kissing therapy will be in order tomorrow."

Joe grinned as he closed his eyes. "I'm looking forward to it."

Emily leaned up and pressed her lips lightly to his. "Me too," she whispered.