His Cowboy Heart

by Jennifer Ryan

  “Like nearly shooting me last night when I showed up?”

  “You got off lucky. I almost killed Ford twice.”

  “What does that say to you, that you want to shoot him dead?”

  She raked her hand through her mussed hair. “It’s not him I’m trying to kill. I love him, Tobin. With everything I am. I am so broken inside I can’t hold on to the pieces of me that slip through my fingers. But every time I look inside for the best pieces of myself, there is Ford and the way he makes me feel, the joy he brings into my life, the constant support he gives me even when I’m at my worst.”

  “He doesn’t love you. He let you go.”

  “Yes, he did. Because I needed him to let go even if I didn’t know it at the time. I would have stayed with him. Loved him. And discovered that I couldn’t hold on to him because I wasn’t happy with myself, so how could I make him happy?”

  “You’re in the same place now, Jamie. You can’t be that girl again.”

  “I don’t want to be her. I want to be this me, only better.” She squeezed the tight muscles in her neck. “I was getting better.”

  “Until I showed up.”

  “No. Until I let the past tear down all the progress I made these last weeks. Until I let the fear and anger drag me down. Until I gave in to the easy way out of avoiding that stuff instead of facing it, dealing with it, and trying to find a way to live with it.”

  “He’s not going to forgive you for what he saw this morning.”

  “Yes, he will.” Her voice reflected the lack of conviction she felt in that statement. She hoped Ford forgave her for her stupidity and total lack of consideration for him.

  She hoped he knew that she loved him above all else and that even when she acted out, her compass home always pointed to him.

  Tears stung her eyes. She couldn’t breathe past the ones clogged in her throat.

  “Even you don’t believe that.” Tobin reached out to take her hand.

  She stepped back and turned for her dresser. “I’m not going to give up until he does forgive me. I won’t stop until I’m well again either. Until I’m the best version of me I can be, so that I can love him the way I want to love him. The way he loves me.”

  “You’re fooling yourself, Keller. You can’t just snap your fingers and change who you are now, or what you did. Not after all that’s happened.”

  She shimmied her jeans over her hips and zipped and buttoned them. “Maybe not. But that doesn’t mean I have to stay stuck in one place. I can move forward. And the only place I want to go is wherever he is.”

  “You’ve lost your mind.”

  “Maybe. But I know who I am. The good, bad, and the ugly. So does he, and he loves me anyway. All of me.” She pulled her shirt on over her head, grabbed two more from the drawer, along with some other essentials and a clean pair of jeans and shorts, and stuffed the pile of clothes in a duffel bag. “I know what I want, and I’m going after it.”

  She headed down the hall, picking up Zoey on her way to the front door.

  “You’re just going to leave me here.”

  “There’s food in the fridge, satellite TV, and a bed for you in the spare room.”

  “When are you coming back?” he bellowed down the hall.

  Not until she had Ford by her side again.

  Chapter 26

  Jamie tried to stay focused on the road, but her thoughts swirled with all the things she wanted to say to Ford. No magic words came to mind that would excuse her behavior or make him forget what he’d seen this morning. Her stomach ached with the acid eating away at her insides along with the guilt sitting heavy in her chest.

  She had to find a way to convince him she’d never hurt him. She’d do anything he wanted just to get a chance to talk to him.

  Just around the next curve she’d come to Ford’s beautiful house with the wide porch, gleaming new paint, and the blooming flowers his sister-in-law had planted. He’d be in the barn or out in one of the fields with the cows. Now that he had help, she hoped he got caught up. She’d step it up, overcome her fears and apprehension, and help him and the crew, because she wanted Ford to have everything he wanted.

  The ranch, a wife, a family to leave the legacy he was building to. How could he have all that if the woman he wanted couldn’t be the partner he needed?

  She would give everything to be that woman right now.

  She’d work even harder to be her from now on.

  The house came into view and her heart called out that this should be home.

  Grandpa Sammy’s truck sat pitched over a small hill, the front end crashed into a huge pine. The old truck hadn’t suffered much damage, but the man in the front seat lay over the steering wheel. Her heart lurched, and she slammed on the brakes. Poor Zoey tumbled to the floorboard, found her footing, and barked her excitement that something was afoot.

  Jamie jumped from the truck and ran the short distance to Grandpa Sammy and yanked open the door. He didn’t move. Blood covered his forehead and the side of his face. Her hand trembled as she reached out to touch his neck. Relief swept through her at his warm skin beneath her fingertips, but disappeared when she didn’t feel a pulse.

  “Oh God, no.”

  Too heavy for her to pull him out of the truck, she pulled him back from the steering wheel and pushed him over onto the bench seat. It took considerable muscle and awkward twists to lay him out flat, but she managed, despite the pain it caused her. Training kicked in and she unbuttoned his shirt to his sternum and rested her head over his heart. No sound, not even a soft thump.

  Still warm, he’d only been out for a short time. She prayed she could bring him back. For Ford’s sake. For all the Kendrick boys.

  “Come on, Sammy, you can’t do this to me.”

  She clasped her hands together, one palm on top of the back of the other hand, linked her fingers, and began compressions on Sammy’s barrel chest. She didn’t have a lot of headroom in the truck cab, but she made every compression count. She kept up a quick and steady pace, then bent to Sammy’s face, pinched his nose, tilted his chin back, and blew into his mouth, filling his lungs. His chest rose and fell, but he didn’t wake up.

  “Come on, Sammy. You come back to me now. I can’t lose another person I care about.”

  She went through the motions and kept up the CPR, desperately praying that the man who’d treated her like a granddaughter and shown her more kindness than her mother ever had lived again.

  “Please, Sammy.” Her tears dripped onto his cheeks as she leaned down for another breath of air to fill his lungs. On the second one, he sputtered, his eyes blinking up at her.

  She brushed her hand over his forehead, not caring that she got blood on her hand from the small wound he’d received when he hit his head on the steering wheel.

  “Hey there. Remember me? It’s Jamie.”

  “What happened?” Sammy asked, confused and twisting his head from side to side to orient himself.

  “You hit a tree.”

  “I don’t feel right.” His too-pale skin didn’t pink up the way she’d hoped. His breathing still seemed shallow and a bit labored.

  She put her hands under his arms and tried to pull him up and into the corner of the seat and against the door. A shocking pain flashed through her back, making her yelp. Sammy tried to help with his minimal strength, but she hoisted the bulk of his weight. She got him situated and fell back into the seat next to him.

  “What are you doing?” he grumbled.

  “Taking you to the clinic.”

  Sammy touched his fingers to his head. “I still feel dizzy.”

  “Don’t you worry. I’ll take care of you.”

  Jamie slid from the truck just enough to pick up Zoey as she stood with her front paws on the running board ready to go for a ride. Even her small weight made Jamie clench her jaw against the throbbing in her shoulder and back. She set Zoey on the seat next to Sammy and hopped back into the idling truck. It seemed in working order, so she put it
in reverse, backed up from the tree, stopped, threw it into drive, and sped back down the road, past her truck with its driver’s door still wide-open.

  “Where’s Ford?” Sammy’s voice came out weak and slurred.

  “I don’t know. His truck wasn’t up at the house.”

  Sammy pressed his lips together, his eyes narrowed in thought. “He’s at Colt’s. He asked me to feed the horses. I thought you went with him. He said you’d love your surprise.”

  A surprise. News to her. Another thing she’d ruined. “Yeah, well, I surprised him this morning and haven’t seen him since.”

  Sammy’s heavy eyelids closed.

  Fear squeezed her heart. She reached over and placed her hand on his chest, over his heart. Sammy’s hand covered hers and held it in place.

  “I’m still kicking, honey.”

  Jamie drove one-handed at speeds that defied the law, but she didn’t care. Sammy needed medical attention now. If his heart stopped again, she wanted professionals there to do whatever it took to save him. He needed more than a hungover, practically insane woman who couldn’t keep herself rooted in reality to save her life, or from doing the one thing sure to lose her the only man she’d ever loved.

  She wanted to call Ford. He’d come. He’d take care of this. He’d make it all right. But she didn’t dare take her hand from Sammy, who seemed to take comfort in holding on to it.

  “We’re almost there, Sammy. You stay with me, you hear?”

  “I hope you stay with Ford this time. He needs you.”

  She spoke her worst fear. “I’m not so sure he needs the chaos I bring into his life. He needs someone who can love him the way he deserves to be loved. Someone who’s not broken.”

  “You’re not broken, honey. Maybe a bit damaged. But damaged can be fixed.” Sammy held her hand in both of his and squeezed. “It’s a terrible thing to take a life even in the name of war. It’s a terrible thing to watch the ones you love die. You are not the terrible thing. You did your duty. You honor the dead by living, honey.”

  The words came from a man who’d served. A man who knew her heart and just what she needed to hear. She squeezed his hands back and pulled into the clinic, grateful she’d brought him back and he’d given her those words.

  “Stay put. I’ll get someone to come out and help you inside.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, honey. And neither should you.”

  She didn’t want to go anywhere. She wanted to stay with Ford. Forever. If he’d still have her.

  Jamie dashed out of the truck and ran inside the new clinic she’d passed several times on her way into town for one errand or another. A doctor stood writing in a chart by the reception desk. Several people waited in the room off to her right.

  “I need help. Sammy Kendrick had an accident. He’s in the truck. He needs help.”

  The dark-haired pregnant doctor dropped the chart on the counter and approached her. “I’m Dr. Bowden. I know Sammy. Is he conscious?”

  “Barely. He . . . he died. I brought him back, but he’s not breathing well. He’s listless and pale. Something isn’t right.”

  “Dorothy, bring a wheelchair and ask Rico to help me get him.”

  Dr. Bowden followed her out the door to the truck parked right in front of it. Jamie opened the door slowly, hoping Sammy didn’t fall right out on the ground. He managed to shift his weight and sit up, though his head swayed from side to side.

  “Sammy, it’s Bell. Are you okay?”

  “Hey, sweet thing, I’m not really myself right now.” Again, the words came out soft and slurred.

  “Okay, we’ll get you inside and checked out.”

  Rico arrived with the wheelchair and muscled Sammy out of the truck and right into it. Sammy sat back heavily in the chair, his head hanging down. Dr. Bowden touched her fingers to his wrist as they pushed Sammy into the clinic.

  “Jamie, come with me. I need to ask you some questions.”

  Jamie followed. “How do you know my name?”

  “I guessed you’re Ford’s girlfriend. I, uh, patched him up after he hurt his shoulder.”

  Right. Dr. Bowden stitched up his arm after she shot him.

  “I didn’t hurt Sammy. I swear.”

  “Never said you did. Tell me how you found him.” Dr. Bowden stood back while Rico helped Sammy out of the chair and onto the hospital bed.

  “I found him unconscious in his truck, not breathing, no heartbeat. He struck his head on the steering wheel when he hit a tree. The engine was still idling. He was still warm, so I did CPR right there in the truck cab. He came back on the second round of CPR. He spoke, seemed lucid, though slow.”

  “I’m right here,” Sammy grumbled. “You can ask me.”

  Dr. Bowden softly touched his face and looked down at her patient like he was family. “What happened leading up to the accident?”

  “I fed the horses. Took care of the chores Ford asked me to do. Started feeling funny. Slow. Dizzy. Thought I’d get on home and lie down for a while. I don’t even remember getting in the truck.”

  “Okay. Did you take your medication this morning?”

  “I forgot, so I took one while I was in the barn.”

  Dr. Bowden eyed him. “Sammy, did you take one this morning, and then take another?”

  “I told you I forgot, so I took it when I remembered.”

  “I have a sneaking suspicion you forgot you took it in the morning and took it again. That explains the symptoms you experienced. You dropped your blood pressure way too low.”

  A nurse on the other side of him ripped the cuff off his arm. “Ninety over fifty-seven.”

  “That’s much too low for you, Sammy.” Dr. Bowden directed the nurse, “Let’s draw some blood, start an EKG, and clean up that cut on his head.”

  Jamie pulled her phone out of her pocket. “I’ll call Ford and let him know what happened. You said he’s with Colt, right, Sammy?”

  “Yeah. Rory’s at the ranch.”

  “I’ll call him,” Dr. Bell volunteered, leaving the room.

  Jamie dialed and prayed Ford picked up. The phone rang once, twice, three times before the voice mail picked up on the fourth ring. She hung up. She didn’t want to leave this kind of message. He was probably ignoring her call because of what happened. She texted him.

  JAMIE: Grandpa Sammy at Crystal Creek Clinic. Come now. He’s okay.

  Jamie took the chair next to Sammy’s bed and held his hand as the nurse cleaned and dressed his head wound. Ford didn’t call her back. He really didn’t want to talk to her. She set aside thoughts of how badly she’d mucked this up and tried to be there for Sammy as they drew blood and checked his blood pressure again.

  The nurse kicked her out when they set up the EKG, and asked her to take a seat in the waiting room. She walked in that direction, spotting the truck illegally parked out front. Zoey had her nose pressed to the window. Jamie hadn’t even bothered to take the keys out of the ignition.

  She went to the truck and opened the driver’s door. Zoey rushed over to greet her and lick her face. Jamie actually smiled and felt better with the puppy’s happy exuberance lavished all over her chin, though it did nothing for her pounding headache that she deserved for what she’d done to herself last night.

  “Sit,” she ordered and Zoey complied, plopping her butt on the seat. “Good girl. At least one of us follows Ford’s instructions.”

  Ford had been working with Zoey to teach her some doggy basics. Zoey was a quick learner, anxious to win Ford’s approval. Jamie should follow the dog’s example. It might keep her out of trouble.

  She moved the truck to a parking space, picked up her furry friend, gingerly lowered herself out of the tall seat to the ground, and walked back into the clinic.

  “You can’t bring the dog in here,” the receptionist said.

  Jamie stopped and looked down at Zoey’s happy little face staring back up at her. “She’s my emotional support dog.”

  Dr. Bowden walked out of Samm
y’s room and held back a laugh. “It’s fine, Dorothy. Jamie is a vet.”

  Dorothy cocked her head. “Huh, a vet who can’t go anywhere without a pet.”

  Jamie didn’t feel the need to correct the receptionist’s misinterpretation of what Dr. Bowden called her.

  Dr. Bowden shook her head. “Not a veterinarian. A soldier. Jamie recently returned from overseas.”

  “Oh,” Dorothy said. That “oh” said so much. “Thank you for your service.”

  Jamie gave a curt nod, uncomfortable accepting the gratitude, especially knowing what she knew about her culpability in the attack and her fellow soldiers’ deaths.

  “Does the puppy need some water?” Dorothy asked, warm and cordial now that she knew Jamie had a reason to keep Zoey with her.

  Yes, she’d abused the service dog allowance because Zoey certainly wasn’t certified in anything but eating, napping, and chewing shoelaces. But she did provide Jamie with a great deal of love and support that helped her when the flashbacks overtook her and when the grief and guilt became too much to bear.

  Right now, sick at heart and worried about Sammy and wondering if Ford would ever speak to her again, she needed all the support she could get.

  Dr. Bell approached her. “Jamie, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “It must have been traumatic for you to find Sammy like that. What you did for him . . . you saved his life. I’m sure that’s got to have a profound effect on you, especially under the circumstances.” Dr. Bowden reached out to touch her, but Jamie flinched, and Dr. Bowden patted Zoey’s head instead, sticking close so Jamie didn’t have to raise her voice to speak.

  “It hasn’t really hit me. I just kicked into that mode and got the job done. You know?”

  “Yes, I do. Procedure, protocols, these are the things we rely on in an emergency. It’s why we train.”

  “Yes.” So why did she freeze when her friends needed her? It didn’t make sense.

  Relieved the doctor understood, Jamie smiled to reassure her that she wasn’t about to go postal in the middle of the clinic. She had her head screwed on straight for once. Mostly. “I’m okay.”