by Julie Benson
Aubrey shook her head. “You didn’t know she’d had a tough day with her mom drilling her about her doctor appointment all the way back from Dallas. That’s why we got together tonight. She needed to get out of the house. Her mom watches her practically around the clock. It’s driving Cheyenne crazy. I knew all that. I shouldn’t have pushed her.”
He patted Aubrey on the back in an awkward attempt at comfort, but stopped himself before he muttered, “there, there.” Instead, he said, “Why Cheyenne had the seizure doesn’t matter. What’s important is you’re calm and under control when she comes out of it. She may be confused, scared, weak, or even nauseated. She’ll need your help.”
Aubrey nodded, and worked to regain her control.
While she struggled with that, sweat formed on Cooper’s brow, and trickled down his chest as he checked his watch. Not even two minutes. Damn, time dragged during seizures. He wished Cheyenne would come out of it. He rubbed the knots in his neck and tried to force back the memories, but they shattered his defenses. The look of Olivia’s soft blue eyes filled with tears, wide and dominating her pale face before she’d been wheeled to the operating room flashed before him. The promise he’d uttered pounded in his head as did the clip of his boots on the tile floor as he paced the surgical waiting room. The smell of antiseptic that had clung to the jeans and shirt he wore that day stung his nose. But the worst memory, the one that haunted him, was the last time he’d seen Olivia lying in a white coffin, looking like a porcelain doll version of herself. Cold, perfect, and devoid of what made her the woman he loved.
He shook his head, dislodging the memories. “This phase should only last a minute or two.”
He counted Mississippis in his head to mark the passing time, not wanting to take his gaze off Cheyenne. Her face flushed, a sheen of sweat covered her skin. He reached sixty-four Mississippis before she stilled, her body calm, and she fell into a deep sleep. The fist pounding against his ribs stopped. “It’s over. She’s reached the after phase.”
“When will she wake up enough for me to take her home?” Aubrey asked.
“She may sleep a few minutes or hours. There’s no way to know. But considering how she’ll probably feel when she comes to, you’re not going anywhere tonight.”
“What?”
He nodded toward his bedroom. “You two can take my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
A few minutes later, Cheyenne’s eyes fluttered. Her gaze, hooded and confused before, appeared more so now.
“Thank God, you’re awake,” Aubrey said. “I was so worried. Do you want to head home tonight? Cooper thinks we should stay here.”
“Ugh,” Cheyenne groaned as she pressed the heels of her hands into her temples.
“Easy, Aubrey. Give her some time.”
Cheyenne struggled to sit, and then tried to push off the couch. When she swayed, Cooper reached for her, sliding his hand around her tiny waist.
Her right hand clasped his arm, but her grasp lacked strength. “So sleepy.”
“Let’s get you to bed,” Cooper said.
“I’m not that easy.”
He chuckled at her humor. Now that fit the woman he’d met at The Horseshoe. Her eyes had blazed determination and stubborn self-sufficiency when she’d told him she didn’t need him protecting her because she was quite capable of taking care of herself. Feisty and fiery as her flaming hair, and as intoxicating.
“I wouldn’t dream of saying you were,” he quipped as he guided Cheyenne around the furniture, noticing the weakness in her right side.
She stumbled twice before they maneuvered around the couch. Sweat beaded on her forehead.
Frustrated with the slow pace and worried she’d collapse again or have another seizure, he scooped her into his arms. The unexpected yearning filling him from the simple contact stabbed his heart.
“What?” came her feeble protest.
“At this rate, it’ll be morning before we get anywhere.” Her head rested on his shoulder. Soft red hair spilled over his chest onto his arm. Liquid fire. Heat raced up his neck into his face.
Three females had barreled into his life today and given him a run for his money. Two had burrowed under his skin. He wasn’t worried about dealing with Penny. He and Rowdy could heal enough of her wounds to ready her for a new home. But the woman in his arms? From the protective feelings sprouting inside him and the attraction bringing his body to life, he suspected Cheyenne would be a problem.
A major one.
*
The next morning a layer of fog covered Cheyenne’s brain. Or at least she thought it was morning. She glanced at the window and sunlight peaked through the blind slats. Hopefully morning and not later in the day.
Next, she scanned her surroundings trying to remember where she was. A simple room with beige walls. A tall dresser in the corner with her purse and Aubrey’s resting on top. Other than that, the only furniture was the king-size bed she lay in, with Aubrey still asleep beside her. How did she get in bed, and whose room was this? She tried to focus, but her brain felt as if someone had stuffed it with hay.
She slid out of bed and stood. Her legs unsteady, she clutched the bedposts for support, and discovered she wore the same jeans and T-shirt with the longhorn skull and feathers design she’d worn yesterday. What had happened? She remembered going to dinner with Aubrey, and them talking about her idea to get a service dog. Aubrey suggested her brother’s friend, Cooper, could help.
The images in her mind cleared. They’d road-tripped to College Station to see Cooper, and it hadn’t gone the way she planned. She recalled Aubrey pleading her case, and how upset she’d become. And the splitting headache. There was something about a dog, too. One that kept pawing at her and whining.
Then everything went black. She pinched her eyes shut. Unfortunately, she knew what that meant. Heat shot into her face. She’d suffered a seizure in front of her best friend, but worse, in front of Cooper.
Find something good to focus on rather than your embarrassment and wondering how you’ll face Cooper this morning.
There had to be something positive in what had happened.
Like what? That she’d given Cooper a live demonstration of why she needed a service dog, and if that didn’t play on his sympathy nothing would?
It was something.
And, hey, she hadn’t peed her pants!
She stumbled across the room to retrieve her medicine from her purse to head off a repeat performance. While she wasn’t sure this one worked any better to control her seizures, at least it didn’t make her sleep for two hours. Tiptoeing out, she went in search of the kitchen and water. She froze and her breath hitched when she discovered Cooper seated at the simple square kitchen table dressed in a brown-and-blue plaid western-style shirt, his golden-brown hair damp and curling around his collar. A laptop computer rested in front of him.
He looked heart-stoppingly handsome. A man who had his act and his life under control, while she felt like something the cat dragged out from under the front porch. She smoothed a hand down her wrinkled T-shirt. Her hand brushed over a slightly crusty spot, probably dried drool, and she cringed. Resisting the urge to run her hand over her hair, she clasped them in front of her instead. Normally she braided her hair to avoid it tangling at night, but she’d been too groggy after her seizure last night and had collapsed into bed.
Obviously Cooper’s bed. Her lips parted and a flush raced through her at the thought of Cooper in the same bed. Ugh. Great time to remember she’d slept in his bed. As if this situation weren’t awkward enough.
What are you worried about? He saw you have a seizure. Compared to that, you probably don’t look half bad this morning.
Oh, that thought made her feel more at ease.
“Can I get you anything? Coffee? I don’t have any juice, but I have some milk—” He paused thinking and brushed his knuckles over the dark stubble on his chin. “But that and water’s pretty much it.”
“Water would be great. I need
to take my medicine.” She held up the pill in her hand.
He nodded, unfolded his long frame from the chair and strolled toward her, causing her breath to catch again. He moved like a thoroughbred. Fluid and graceful, but with purpose and strength. He brushed past her. The clean scent of soap wafted over her, and she swallowed hard. After he retrieved a glass, he filled it with water from a pitcher in the fridge. “Aubrey mentioned your neurologist changed your medicine yesterday. Have you had a lot of problems controlling the seizures?”
His question asked in a matter-of-fact, level voice failed to grate on her the way it usually did. Odd when a simple question about the weather annoyed her lately. “It’s the second one I’ve tried. I had some rough side effects with the last one, but what made it worse was it did a lousy job controlling the seizures.”
She joined Cooper in the kitchen, accepted the glass he offered, and downed the pill. “Hopefully, last night wasn’t a sign of how things will go with this one.”
“Trial and error is never easy.” He reached into the cabinet to his right, pulled out a box of Cheerios, and shook it. “There’s a little left. Hopefully they’re not too stale. Sorry, but this is all I’ve got.”
“I don’t want anything.”
He reached into the cabinets again, pulled out two bowls, and turned to her. “I’m hungry, and it would be rude for me to eat if you’re not, so humor me.”
Before she could answer her stomach growled loud enough for him to hear. “I guess there’s no point in me saying I’m not hungry.”
He dumped cereal into both bowls and pulled two spoons out of a drawer. After handing Cheyenne one of each, he motioned toward the table. A minute later, he joined her, his bowl in one hand, a jug of milk in the other. After popping off the lid, he sniffed. “It passes the smell test, so it should be safe.”
They sat there. She, using her spoon to dunk Cheerios, while he ate. After a minute he broke the silence. “I’m starting to see how tough this has been for you.”
She shrugged. “Life’s a lot like poker. We don’t choose the hand we’re dealt, and we can either play it or fold. For me, playing is the only option.”
“Doesn’t make it any easier. How many seizures have you had lately?”
“A few. I don’t like to keep count.” She poked at her cereal but couldn’t bring herself to eat over fear her stomach would protest. “How bad was last night’s? Was there anything involved other than major drooling?”
Please don’t let me have had any truly embarrassing loss of body functions in front of Mr. Tall, Dreamy and Intelligent.
“Nah, it wasn’t bad. I’m a vet. I’ve had dogs pee on me and cows shit on my boots. But the worst was when a horse kicked me in vet school. I got knocked flat on my ass and landed in a pile of horse dung in front of the entire class.”
She couldn’t help but chuckle and appreciate his effort to put her at ease. “Now that’s embarrassing.”
“You got that right, and it got worse when everyone in class started calling me shit kicker. Try living that nickname down.”
“No, thanks. You win the embarrassment sweepstakes.”
But only because it appeared her seizure last night had been mild.
“I don’t know how I got lucky enough to keep my corps buddies from finding out about it. I guess the separate worlds thing.”
“Ty doesn’t know about this alias?” When Cooper shook his head, she continued. “I can feel the power pulsing through my veins thinking of the possibilities. A barrel racing horse needs a lot of vet care. You know, I’m thinking we could cut a deal for my silence.”
His blue eyes darkened to a shade near cobalt. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a blackmailer.”
“Not unless I’m in a real spot.”
“Should I be worried?”
“Not now, but I’m filing the information away just in case.”
“Smart woman.”
His comment shattered her playful mood. What would Cooper think if he discovered the truth, that she’d never graduated from high school, but earned a GED a couple years later?
“I should apologize for showing up last night. Aubrey and I were talking, and she suggested we come see you. It sounded like a good idea at the time, but…” Her voice trailed off. “There’s nothing else to say, except I’m the adventurous type, and it sometimes gets me into trouble.”
“I say we forget about last night. I wasn’t at my best either, and truth be told, I owe you an apology, too.”
“No, you don’t. I put you in an awkward position, asking for help to shortcut the process. I’m not exactly proud of that, but in my defense, I’d had a long day with my mom, and I was pretty desperate.”
The sound of scratching against glass pulled their attention to the patio door a few feet away. The tri-colored dog and shepherd from last night stood peering inside. “I’d wondered where they were.”
When Cooper let the dogs in, Rowdy stayed with him, but Penny made a beeline for Cheyenne and parked herself at her feet. “Did she push me onto the couch right before I blacked out?”
“Yup.”
Cheyenne glanced in the living room and the reality of what could’ve happened washed over her, making her tremble. “With the coffee table and end tables there, if not for Penny, I probably would’ve hit something when I fell.” Cheyenne leaned over and cupped the animal’s face between her hands. “I owe you a big thank you. You saved me another huge bump to the head or worse.” She turned to Cooper. “I wonder what made her do that.”
“She sensed you were going to have a seizure.”
“I knew service dogs could help keep someone safe once a seizure started, but I didn’t know they could sense before one started.”
“Opinions differ, but I’m a firm believer some can. Could be they sense something in a person’s behavior, or it’s possible their sense of smell is so keen, they detect a chemical change before the seizure hits. Unfortunately, we don’t always pick up on their natural alerting behaviors. A dog could nip at a person, bark like crazy in a way that’s different from its normal bark, or—”
“She whines and paws at a person.”
Cooper nodded. “A thought occurred to me last night.” He explained about a product he was working on.
Something about an app and a thing a person wore like a watch that went along with a device a dog was trained to press when an alarm sounded. That alerted a seizure patient’s emergency contact or EMS. The whole thing sounded odd and Cheyenne couldn’t understand how it would help. In fact, she was only half listening when Aubrey burst out of the bedroom. “Cheyenne, where are you? We’ve got a problem.”
Rowdy barked. Penny slid closer to Cheyenne and shoved her nose under her palm. “It’s okay, girl.” She patted the dog’s head while she called out to tell Aubrey she was in the kitchen.
Her friend rushed toward her, blonde hair tangled around her face, her clothes rumbled and cockeyed from sleep. Panic flared in her eyes. “I just talked to my mom. When yours couldn’t reach you this morning, she showed up at my apartment, and when you weren’t there, your hysterical mother called mine trying to find you. I told her where we were, but you should call her.”
Foreboding twisted Cheyenne’s stomach into a huge knot. “How bad is it?”
Before Aubrey answered, her phone rang again. “What now, Mom?” She paused to listen. “Tell her Cheyenne’s fine, and get her to call them back.”
Call who back? Cheyenne wrapped her arms around her stomach to keep from shaking. What had her mother done now? Her mind refused to consider the possibilities. She glanced at Aubrey, whose skin had paled to a shade above zombie gray. This was bad.
When Aubrey ended the call, Cheyenne said, “What’s my mom done? Called out the national guard?”
“Close. She called the College Station police.”
“What?” Cooper and Cheyenne yelled in unison.
“When my mom told yours we were here, she freaked, called the police, and reported you missing,
but it gets worse.”
“That’s not possible,” Cooper said and placed his hand over his twitching left eyelid.
“She hinted at foul play being involved.” Aubrey flashed air quotes when she mentioned foul play.
“Oh, Lord. I have to stop this.” Cheyenne tore through the house to Cooper’s bedroom. Her mom worrying was one thing, but funny-farm crazy was something else.
When she reached the bedroom, she grabbed her purse off the dresser. Unable to find her phone, she yanked out her wallet, sunglasses, and keys, throwing them aside until she found her cell. Her hands shaking, she jabbed the button to turn the thing on.
By the time she rejoined Aubrey and Cooper in the living room, her phone had powered on, and she called her mother.
“Thank God, Cheyenne,” her mother said when she answered. “I’ve been on the verge of a nervous breakdown. How could you go somewhere without—”
“Call the College Station police back now. Tell them I’m fine, and for goodness sake, tell them you were wrong. I’m not missing, never was, and there certainly wasn’t any foul play involved.”
“Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yes. I’m hanging up, so you can call the police.”
But before Cheyenne could, the doorbell’s bright musical tone sounded, followed by pounding on the front door. “Police, Dr. Abbott. We need to speak with you about Cheyenne Whitten.”
“Never mind, Mom. It’s too late.”
Chapter Five
A police officer was pounding on his door because of a woman. Cooper shook his head. Yup, his luck with the opposite sex had gone from bad to worse. Or rather from pathetic and predictable to catastrophic.
Cooper stalked to the patio door. “Rowdy, Penny, outside.” His dog complied, but not Penny. She remained plastered to Cheyenne’s leg.
Blasted females.
He could handle the furry one, but the long-legged redhead with the leaf-green eyes? He pegged her as trouble. A woman who created chaos wherever she went. Another insistent knock reverberated through the room.
