“I was afraid you were going to say that.”
With his arms still around her and her back pressed to the door, he brushed the key against the lock pad, and the metal inside clicked. He pulled the handle down and pushed the door open.
Her arms fell from his neck, and she backed up.
“I’ll text you when I get to my room. I want to know that everything’s okay.” He hesitated before adding, “Don’t take this wrong, but do me a favor and stay in your room.”
Her lips curved up slowly. “I might need a snack at two.”
“Call me, and I’ll get it for you.”
He knew he wasn’t supposed to be all caveman-like protective, but she didn’t seem to give a flip. He wasn’t doing it because he wanted to control her, or boss her, but rather because he cared about her safety and wanted to protect her. She seemed to understand.
“I won’t leave my room without talking to you first.”
“Thanks.” He backed up. “’Night, Dumpling.”
“Get outta here, Patch.”
He snorted and backed slowly away until her door closed.
~~~
They did some sightseeing the next day, holding hands and laughing over little things. Ford noticed the stares and the comments, but he wore his patch and his cowboy hat, and he had Morgan by his side. People noticed him, but they stared at her.
By the time they stepped off the helicopter at dusk that evening, there was no doubt in Ford’s mind that he’d fallen in love with Morgan. The words to tell her were on the tip of his tongue several times throughout the day, but the shame and the fear that he’d thought he’d broken free from still kept him from saying the words.
He didn’t want her to feel pressured to say them back, either. Maybe she really believed he was worth loving, but the idea was still something he was trying to wrap his head around—that someone as beautiful as Morgan could want to be with him.
They watched the stars come out together, but he didn’t walk up the stairs with her. When Georgia came back, they’d need to figure out where things were going, but for the next two nights, he’d keep his distance.
They quit early Friday afternoon, planning to take supper to Sawyer’s and spend the evening with him before getting up early the next morning and flying to Chicago for the charity gala.
Never at a loss for things to talk about, they spent the time on the drive to Sawyer’s holding hands, telling each other their favorite things, and sharing childhood stories.
“I called Sawyer several times today, but I couldn’t get him to answer. I think he has a landline but no cell service.” Ford drove slowly down Sawyer’s long drive. The barn came into view. “Georgia said the house wasn’t much more than a shack.” Ford twisted his head, trying to see where the fencing was and if Sawyer was out with the cattle.
“You’ve never been here?” Morgan asked.
“No. When I was a kid, Mr. McEcran lived here, and we were out a couple of times to help him during haying and branding, but that was fifteen years ago. It was in bad shape then. I think Georgia said the house collapsed from snow the year before they sold it and Sawyer was living in what had been a detached garage.”
“Sounds cold.”
“Sawyer’s stubborn.”
“The condition of the buildings probably made it cheaper to buy.”
“Yeah. That’s what he said. He wouldn’t be farming at all if he had to pay for a place that was decent.”
Old weathered boards and a bowed roof made up the only other building except the barn. It sat next to a mixed-up pile of lumber and glass that must have been the house at one time.
Sawyer’s old pickup was parked in front of the shack.
“He must be inside. He’d take his pickup to run the fence line or throw hay in the field.”
The wind whipped across the fields. Ford pressed his cowboy hat down tighter and walked around to open Morgan’s door.
“That wind has a chill to it.”
Morgan shivered. “I heard we might be getting snow next week.”
“I heard the same thing. First week in November isn’t unusual for a good storm.”
Ford put his arm around Morgan and carried the hot dish in the other. They lowered their heads against the wind.
He thought it was odd that Sawyer wasn’t out to greet them and help carry the food in. Icy fingers of fear dug into Ford’s spine.
They got to the door, and Ford pounded on it. They stood, hunched against the wind, and waited. He pounded again.
No answer.
Gripping the knob, he twisted it, and it turned easily in his hand. “Let me go in first.”
Maybe the feeling was a fluke, and Ford was taking a bath in the kitchen or something.
He cracked the door.
“Holy frig.”
Shoving it open, he rushed inside, throwing the casserole on the table and continuing on to where Sawyer lay, stretched out and facedown on the floor next to the stove. Blood pooled on the floor by his ear.
The door slammed closed, then Morgan knelt beside him as he touched Sawyer’s neck, looking for a pulse.
“He’s burning up,” Ford said shortly.
Sawyer groaned, rolling his head on the floor then trying to push up. “The cattle,” he said in a raspy voice that sounded like he’d been coughing nonstop since they’d gotten off the phone with him Wednesday night.
“Don’t worry about the cattle, brother.” Ford felt around Sawyer’s head, looking for the source of the blood.
“I bet he passed out from the fever or sickness and hit his head on that.” Morgan pointed to the sharp corner of the plyboard that made up Sawyer’s table.
Ford took in the room in that quick glance. A small fridge. A sink with a pump handle and one cup and one plate sitting on a stool beside it. No counters. A wood stove. Three rickety chairs. A partially open door showed that there was a smaller room with a narrow, neatly made bed. One bare lightbulb shone dimly over the table.
He knew Sawyer was stubborn and trying to make a go out of a little of nothing, but he’d had no idea that reality was so bad.
Sawyer pushed himself off the floor, looking up with glazed eyes at Ford and Morgan. He didn’t seem to recognize them. “My cows. Water.”
Morgan got up. She walked to the sink and, after looking it over, pulled up and down on the pump handle until water gushed into the sink. She filled up the cup and brought it over.
Sawyer had collapsed and would have cracked his head on the floor, but Ford caught him, losing his balance because of his prosthesis and falling forward. Sawyer’s head half-lay in his lap.
“Did he pass out again?” Morgan asked, sinking to her knees with the water cup in her hand.
“Yeah. He probably does need water, but I’m thinking he’s concerned about his cows. I’m pretty sure he hauled water out to them from a tank in the back of his truck.”
“Oh. Well, he’s not going to be doing anything but looking pretty in a casket unless we get him to a hospital and quick.” Morgan twisted the cup in her hand.
Sawyer groaned.
Ford watched him closely. “I don’t think I can carry him out myself. I’m gonna need him to help a little.”
Morgan had her phone out. “No service.”
“He’s got service out in the pasture but not here.”
“I see.” Morgan set the water on the stove. “Fire’s out.”
“Yeah, it feels cold in here.”
Sawyer groaned again.
“Hey, brother. Can you get up?” Ford put both hands on Sawyer’s shoulders and tried to spin him.
“Do you want me to take your SUV out until I have service and call an ambulance?”
“It’ll be faster if we can get him out and drive to meet them, calling on the way.”
“Okay.” Morgan rolled up her sleeves. “If we can get him upright, I can get an arm over my shoulder and you get one over yours.”
Ford’s lips tightened. He didn’t like that idea. Mor
gan shouldn’t be lifting that much weight, but Sawyer was going to die if they didn’t do something.
“Okay.”
They were able to roll him to his back and lift him to a sitting position. Ford desperately hoped that they weren’t wrong and that Sawyer didn’t have a back or neck injury. He was well aware that they were breaking the most basic of first responder rules by moving a patient who may have that type of injury, but he felt they had no choice.
They each put an arm around their necks.
“On the count of three,” he said. “One, two...three.”
They heaved up, Sawyer hanging like dead weight between them. Ford put his arm around Sawyer’s waist to take some more of his weight. He wasn’t nearly as heavy as his over six-foot frame should be. Ford could feel his ribs in stark relief through his t-shirt and flannel.
Sawyer moved, his feet jerking then firming beneath him.
“Hey, brother. If you could help us by walking a little, that’d be great.”
“Gotta feed my cows,” Sawyer said in a voice that sounded as raw as a freshly scraped carrot. “They need water.”
“You need a doctor.”
“Cows first.”
“I’ll feed and water your cows.”
“Promise.”
“I promise.”
Sawyer put one foot in front of the other, and they managed to get him through the door and out to the SUV. They got him in on the seat, folding his legs up and shutting the door.
“He’s going to go without a seatbelt.” Ford put a hand on Morgan’s arm. “Can you take him? If you call the ambulance, they’ll meet you. They might even send Life Flight from the Cities if you explain how bad he is.”
Morgan nodded, her eyes clouded with worry. “What about you?”
“I promised I’d take care of his crazy cows. I know it doesn’t seem right to not go with him for a bunch of animals, but this is all he has in the world. He needs—”
Morgan put her hand on his chest. “You don’t need to explain it to me. I grew up in this state where they grow ’em crazy.”
Ford almost laughed. “You’re amazing.”
“I meant are you coming in with Sawyer’s pickup or should I come back and get you? With there being no service...”
“It should only take me an hour or two to feed and water. Come back for me, unless you end up taking him the whole way to Rockerton. If you don’t turn up, I’ll call you when I leave the farm in his pickup.”
“Okay. Take care.” She hopped in his vehicle and started it, going back down the driveway much faster than they had arrived.
Ford hadn’t expected to ever do ranching work again. He’d thought those days were over after his accident. But he’d grown up around cattle and crops. Getting the cows fed and watered might be a major job, especially if he had to haul the water, but he could do it.
An hour later, he had the tank on Sawyer’s pickup filled up when headlights came down the drive. Surely Morgan wouldn’t be back already? Fear shook his insides. If they felt he was bad enough they needed to Life Flight him, he must be pretty bad indeed.
But after squinting at the lights, he was pretty sure they were from a newer model pickup. Coming pretty fast.
He hopped down out of the bed of Sawyer’s truck, taking the landing on his good leg. By the time he had the hose drained and rolled up, the pickup had come to a stop. Both doors opened.
“That you, Ford?” someone called.
“Yeah.” He stopped and faced the two men walking toward him. The one who had spoken sounded a lot like Sawyer. He was shorter and broader. At least it looked like it in the glow from the headlights.
“Palmer?” he asked, thinking it was Sawyer’s brother.
“Yes. Your brother’s with me.”
Ty. He hadn’t realized how anxious he was about the cattle until relief washed over him. His brother and Palmer would help him with the cattle.
“I assume Morgan called you?” Ford said.
“Yes, and our wives are on the way to the hospital. The ambulance was out on another call, and it wasn’t trauma. They didn’t want to tie up the helicopter on a Friday night, so Morgan’s driving the whole way to Rockerton.” Palmer reached him, holding out a hand.
Grateful for the dark that hid his face, Ford cringed inside as he grasped that hand with his three fingers. He hated shaking hands. It put his deformity forward first thing.
But Palmer didn’t hesitate, and he didn’t weaken his grip like most people did when they saw he only had half a hand. Like he wasn’t as strong since he didn’t have fingers.
“Morgan said Sawyer was passed out, but every once in a while, he’d groan, cough, and ask about his cows. She was really nervous that he’d try to get out of the vehicle while it was moving.” Ty, tall and confident, held his hand out next.
“Hey, bro.” Ford shook it, shoving back his concern over Morgan. She was tough. She’d get Sawyer to the hospital. It didn’t mitigate the fact that he wanted to protect her and do it for her.
He adjusted his hat and did what North Dakotans did every year as the cold fall wind whipped across the flat land—told himself it wasn’t that cold and it was going to get colder, so he might as well suck it up.
“I have the water tank filled up. Don’t suppose you have a spotlight in your truck? I don’t know what field the cows are in, and I don’t know how many there are supposed to be.”
“Sixty-two cows. Fifty-nine with fall calves. And a bull. I helped him with banding a few weeks ago.” Palmer turned. “And I have a spotlight in my toolbox. Gimme a minute.”
“Hold up. We could throw a round bale on the back of your truck and save some time if we take the water and feed out together.” Ford wasn’t sure he was feeding round bales, but it made sense to think he was. If he’d been working alone all summer, he might not have even put up any small bales. Baling hay into small bales wasn’t a one-man job.
“Good idea,” Ty said. Palmer nodded.
Ford shoved a hand in his pocket, thinking he’d check Sawyer’s truck for some work gloves when he got in. “You have any idea where they’re at? This is my first time on his place. I don’t even know where his property lines are.”
“No, I don’t know where the cows are. But I know his fence lines. You can follow me. I’ll drive and give the spotlight to Ty. We’ll find ’em.”
The cows weren’t too hard to find, huddled in the corner of the fence, mooing and bawling, demanding their water and feed. It was a little harder for Ford to screw the hose on to connect his water tank to the trough. Not really because of missing fingers, but more because he wasn’t used to working in the cold and his fingers were stiff and painful.
After they’d fed and watered the cattle, they stood on the back of the pickup with the spotlight, counting to make sure they were all there. They came up with three different numbers the first time. None of them came up with sixty-two cows.
After counting a couple more times, they all agreed the calves and bull were there, but they were missing a cow.
Two hours later, they found the missing cow just in time to watch her finish pushing her baby out into the world. They made sure it was alive and that the momma was going to take care of it.
They put the tools and tank away and parked Sawyer’s truck, and Palmer drove to the hospital in Rockerton, taking Ford and Ty with him.
It wasn’t quite three a.m. when they finally made it into the foyer of the hospital. Visiting hours were long since over, and the ladies met them down front.
Morgan walked straight to him and wrapped her arms around him. He pulled her tight, feeling like they’d been separated for days rather than a few hours.
“How is he?” Ford asked after a minute of just hugging her.
“Stable. He has double pneumonia, and they think it spread to his blood. They’ve started him on antibiotics, and his prognosis is good, considering.”
He put his cheek next to hers and closed his eye as relief swept through him, not realiz
ing until that point how worried about his friend he’d been.
“Ames and I are supposed to be in LA tomorrow at noon for a meeting about the Olympic training center that is being built near Sweet Water. We can cancel, but it’s been a major ordeal with scheduling, and it will delay construction if we aren’t there.” Palmer’s voice echoed in the high-walled atrium, despite his low tone. It didn’t matter since they were the only ones there. All the vinyl-covered seats were empty as was the information desk.
“I’m giving a speech at a charity function tomorrow. I’m supposed to be in Pittsburgh in,” Ty looked at his phone, “six hours.” His arm held Louise close to his side. He looked down at her, his eyes shining and soft. “I can do it without you, if you want to stay here with your brother.”
She nodded, tucking her head under his chin. “Your mom has Tella.”
Ford watched the sweet display, and the desire to ask Morgan to marry him materialized in his chest. He’d never thought he’d get married, and now it was the one thing he wanted above all others.
But now wasn’t the time.
“Morgan and I have something tomorrow evening, but I can feed the cows before I go.”
“If you can get them tomorrow, we’ll be back on Sunday and can take it from there.” Palmer looked down at Ames for confirmation, and she smiled and nodded.
“We’ve got it,” Ford said with confidence. They’d need three hours for the private plane to fly them to Chicago. It was doable. Morgan must have thought so to, since she didn’t argue.
They said their goodbyes, and Louise promised to keep them informed of any changes in Sawyer’s condition. Ford kept his arm around Morgan as they walked out.
“I think we’ll stay here tonight, head back and feed before dinnertime, and fly out in the early afternoon. Will that give you enough time to get ready?” he asked.
“Yes. And thank you. I’m about dead on my feet and could use a few hours of sleep. It’s going to take some skill with the makeup tomorrow to hide the dark circles and bags under my eyes.”
“Hmm. How much skill do you have? Maybe you could do something with this.” He ran his finger in a circle around his face.
She laughed. “You’re perfect.”
Cowboys Don't Marry the Beauty Page 17
