by Judy Duarte
Then Brad was beside her, his arm around her.
“Take it easy,” he suggested. “Get a few breaths.”
Finally her lungs seemed to work as she sucked in air and then sucked in more of it.
Bending over her, Brad’s face was close to hers. The huskiness in his voice told her he was worried about her.
“I’m fine,” she murmured, but as she braced her hand on the ground to scramble to her feet, she yelped. Her wrist hurt.
Brad rose quickly. “What is it?”
She knew she couldn’t hide the injury from him. “My wrist.”
“I’m driving you to the emergency room.” Gently he took her hand in his. “Move your fingers,” he ordered. When she did, he looked relieved. “I don’t think it’s broken. But I want you checked out.”
“How am I going to get back?”
“With me.” He’d tethered the reins to his horse around some brush. “Come on, I’ll help you into the saddle. Believe me, I won’t let anything else happen to you.”
She believed him. “My camera…”
“I know where it fell.” He lifted her onto the saddle and she swung her leg over the pommel. “I’ll walk you over there before I climb on.”
Five minutes later, he’d found the camera, handed it to her and swung up onto the horse behind her. His arms were around her as he held the reins.
With his lips close to her ear, his breath was warm on her neck as he asked, “Ready?”
She almost felt ready for anything with Brad. She knew she was beginning to rely on him, and that scared her most of all.
Thunder Canyon General Hospital was a relatively new two-story building, surrounded by a parking lot. Brad bypassed the main entrance and headed for the E.R., pulling in as close as he could to the emergency-room door. A few minutes later, he guided Emily under the covered portico.
She stopped and took hold of his arm. “I’ll have to tell the doctor I might be pregnant. If you don’t want to be around, I’ll understand.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he responded gruffly.
The emergency room had pale blue walls and a white tile floor. The waiting room was pleasant in blue, green and lilac, with tall windows that allowed the late afternoon sun to stream through.
After Emily registered, she sat and waited until her name was called. Then she was taken down a hall into a room with several beds where blue-and-white-striped curtains hung between each.
“Dr. Taylor will be in shortly,” the nurse informed them with a smile.
“I’d better give this to you,” Emily said to Brad as she realized she still had her camera around her neck. When she lifted it off, she looked at it and a gasp escaped her.
“What’s wrong?”
“I think the lens is cracked. It is. Oh, Brad…”
Her voice broke and Brad realized this whole incident had caused more trauma than she wanted to admit. He also knew how much that camera meant to her.
“Let me see.”
When she handed it over, he noticed the tears in her eyes, and instead of looking at the camera he put his arms around her and brought her close.
“It’s okay. Maybe I can get it repaired.”
“I doubt it.”
He guessed how long she’d saved to buy that camera. He knew her pictures probably expressed a part of her that she was afraid to express on her own.
Putting his hands on either side of her face, he tipped her chin up to him. “I’m just grateful you’re okay. If you are pregnant, I don’t want anything to happen to our baby.”
She gave him a little smile now. “I know.”
“You’re an amazing woman,” he whispered, his lips hovering tantalizingly just above hers.
Temptation was so great, he couldn’t resist. When he kissed her, it was as if he were coming home. They hadn’t kissed since their stay in the cabin. They hadn’t touched deliberately since they’d made love. He missed her kisses and her touching as if he’d been used to it for a whole lifetime. As his tongue danced with hers and she responded to it, he thought about their separate bedrooms with the bathroom in between. He thought about asking her into his bed again tonight. He thought about—
Someone cleared his throat.
When Brad broke away, there was a tall man with wavy blond hair and blue eyes standing in the cubicle. He was wearing a lab coat and a stethoscope and Brad supposed he was the E.R. doctor.
“I’m not sure that’s the medicine I’d prescribe for a twisted wrist.” His eyes were filled with amusement.
Brad instantly went on alert because the doctor was good-looking, but then he noticed the gold band on his hand and felt relieved. When had he developed a possessive streak?
Not giving an explanation for their kiss or why he was in the cubicle with Emily, Brad stated, “It’s possible she might be pregnant.”
His smile fading now, the physician extended his hand to Emily and then to Brad. “I’m Dr. Taylor. I’ll examine your wrist, then if you want I’ll page an obstetrician.”
Emily nodded.
After the doctor took a hospital gown from a cupboard and handed it to her, he glanced at Brad. “When we’re finished, I’ll send someone to get you in the waiting room.”
Brad wanted to stay but knew he had no right to. With a last look at Emily, with her camera in his hands, he left the cubicle and went to sit in the reception area, worrying about her in a way he’d never worried about a woman before.
An hour later a technician came to fetch Brad and take him back to Emily. She was dressed again, and the doctor had just finished wrapping her wrist.
Emily explained to Brad, “It’s too soon to know for sure if I’m pregnant. The obstetrician told me I can have a blood test in a few days or use an early-testing pregnancy kit in a day or two.”
Dr. Taylor focused on Brad now. “She seems fine except for her wrist. She preferred I not X-ray it, and that’s wise under the circumstances. But I think it’s just sprained. If it’s not better in a few days, come back and we’ll decide what to do. She told me what happened…about the prospectors in the Jeep.” The young physician looked almost angry.
Crossing the room, Brad stood by Emily. “I guess that can be expected when there’s a rumor of gold.”
“People coming here for Caleb Douglas’s resort are one thing. They’re investing in the area and they’re going to have a stake in our lives, too. But the fly-by-nighters who are just looking for an easy buck or a few nuggets of gold don’t care what they do to our town.”
“They help the economy, though,” Brad pointed out.
“Yes, they do, and the sudden influx of revenue for everyone will help make improvements in the hospital. I guess we can’t stop any of it now. I heard the gold mine even made CNN.”
Brad felt as if he and Emily had been isolated from the real world for weeks—and it had only been six days.
“Thunder Canyon might grow faster than anyone wants it to.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” the doctor agreed. Then he smiled. “But in the meantime, I’ll just do what I do.”
Turning to Emily, he added, “Being rescued from a runaway horse isn’t an everyday occurrence. It wouldn’t hurt to take it easy tomorrow. Keep ice on the wrist for the next twenty-four hours. A warm bath tonight might help relax you. If you have any unusual symptoms—dizziness, nausea, cramping—you come back in here. You hear?”
Although Emily nodded, Brad said, “I’ll make sure she does.”
At that, her gaze caught his and held.
Breaking eye contact, he walked her into the reception area and led her to a chair. “You stay here while I buy ice packs at the pharmacy.”
“You don’t have to do this—” Her voice caught.
“I know I don’t. I also know you’d do the same for me.”
With a smile that seemed to knock the wind out of her sails, he watched her as she sank down into a chair and picked up a magazine. She might be the epitome of the independent woman, but h
e’d found a much softer side to Emily Stanton, too. And he liked it.
When Emily and Brad returned to the Lazy D, Adele and Caleb were both solicitous and wanted to know what they could do to make her feel better. She simply smiled, gave them her “I’ll be fine” speech and then said she was going up to her room to rest.
“Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes,” Adele advised her.
“I think I’ll skip dinner tonight.”
After she mounted the stairs, she made it to her room and lowered herself onto the bed.
Brad followed her. “I put the ice packs in the freezer. The doctor’s orders said fifteen minutes every hour. He said a warm bath might help relax you, too.”
“I just want to go to bed.”
“Not going to listen to doctor’s orders?”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “Don’t parent me, Brad.”
“Believe me, the last thing I want to do is parent you.”
When she saw the glimmer of desire in his eyes, she remembered how he’d kissed her so tenderly yet with so much passion at the emergency room. Dealing with that on top of everything else was just a little bit too much.
“Just leave me alone, okay?”
Coming over to her, he hunkered down in front of her. “No, I’m not going to leave you alone. I’m going to draw you a warm bath. When you’re finished, I’ll put ice cubes in a plastic bag for your wrist until the ice packs are ready. So get undressed, put on a robe and come into the bathroom in about ten minutes. If you don’t appear, I’ll come and get you.”
“You can be so arrogant,” she mumbled under her breath.
Even though it had been low, he’d still heard it. Rather than being offended, he grinned. “I know I can. It’s a great way to get my own way. Ten minutes, Emily.”
After he disappeared into the bathroom, she heard water running in the tub.
She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Whoever could have imagined Brad Vaughn would draw her a bath. That was as crazy as this whole trip had been. But she did know Brad always got what he wanted and she didn’t have the energy to fight him, so she did as he suggested.
He was still in the bathroom, standing over the tub, when she finally went in, her robe belted tight. Bubbles floated everywhere and the sweet scent of lavender hovered in the air.
“It’s ready.” He looked her over, making no move to leave.
“If you think you’re going to stand here and watch me take a bath, you’re sadly mistaken,” she teased.
With a chuckle, he shook his head. “Somehow I knew you’d say that. I’ll leave. But I won’t be far away. Just yell if you need anything.”
When he’d shut the door to his room partway, she laid her robe over a small settee and stepped down into the water. It did feel heavenly. Sinking beneath the bubbles, she let her head loll back, resting her bandaged wrist on the side of the tub.
For the most part Emily kept her eyes closed while she soaked, but every once in a while she’d hear Brad moving about in his bedroom. There was something totally intimate about having him close by.
Ten minutes later the water began to grow tepid. Shivering, she stepped out of the tub, dried off and belted her robe. Then she went to the door to Brad’s room. “I’m going to bed now.”
“Don’t lock your door. I’ll bring up the ice.”
As Brad went downstairs, he thought about Emily’s bath and how he’d wanted to join her in the tub. Then he remembered her body naked in the cabin shadows. It was an image he couldn’t get out of his head.
When he entered the kitchen, he noticed Tess was putting the last touches on supper.
“How’s Miss Emily?” she asked.
“Stubborn.”
The housekeeper smiled, and then silence permeated the kitchen. Brad knew why. Tess wanted to know if he’d thought about taking her case.
In the midst of everything else, he had. He was stalled here in Thunder Canyon at least for a while. He might as well do something worthwhile with his time. Truth be told, Tess’s case was the type of challenge he’d like to take on. “I’ve given some thought to finding your daughter.”
“You’ll do it?” Her face looked brighter than he’d seen it since he’d arrived.
“I don’t want to give you false hope, Tess. I might come up with zero. It’s been a long time and some people who don’t want to be found manage ways to keep hidden.”
“She left because she was rebelling. She wanted to find her own way and I wouldn’t let her. But maybe now she’s just too ashamed to come home.”
He knew that often happened. “That still doesn’t mean I can find her, but I’ll try. I want you to write down absolutely everything you know about her—where she liked to go, what she liked to do, who she liked to be with. I want a list of names—any friends who are still around, anybody she talked to. I also want a list of stores where she used to buy her clothes, purses and shoes.”
Tess looked puzzled. “Why?”
“Although she may have wanted to run away from her life, people have habits and certain preferences. If we do come up with a location or vicinity and we don’t have an address, I never know what might help. So just do it, okay? Write a book if you have to. Even the smallest details are important.”
“I’ll do it tonight.”
Feeling good about taking her case, not knowing where it was going to lead, he asked, “Can I have a tray for Emily?”
“Sure. What would you like? I can warm up something.”
“I don’t think she’s going to go for a whole lot. Maybe a sandwich and a glass of milk?”
“Just give me a couple of minutes.”
Ten minutes later, Brad was carrying a tray up to Emily’s room along with a plastic bag of ice wrapped in a towel. For courtesy’s sake, he rapped on the door.
“Come in.”
She was propped up on three pillows examining her camera. “I hope somebody can fix it.”
“After we get back to Chicago, I’ll find someone who can. In the meantime, you might want to buy one of those disposable cameras.”
“That’s a good idea. I hate to miss shooting anything I might want to remember.”
Their eyes caught and held. She’d snapped a few pictures of him. Maybe she didn’t have as many regrets as he thought she’d have over what had happened in the cabin.
When he took the tray to the bed, he could smell lavender. Her skin was a pretty pink from her bath. She was wearing a pink flannel nightgown, and all he wanted to do was crawl into bed beside her and hold her through the night as he had the last night in the cabin.
Setting the tray on her lap, he advised her, “You’ll feel better if you eat something.”
“I know.” She said it with so much resignation he had to smile.
“Just put your tray outside the door when you’re finished. Tess said she’ll pick it up.”
Emily took a few sips of the milk and nodded.
At the door, he turned to her again. “I told Tess I’d take on her case.” He’d confided in Emily that Tess wanted him to search for her daughter.
“Do you think you can find her?”
“I don’t know. She’s supposed to write up some information tonight. I’ll see where that leads. In the meantime, I’m going to search for the prospector again.”
“I want to go along.”
“It would probably do you good to sleep late. But I’ll check with you before I leave.”
He hesitated only a fraction of a second before he suggested, “I want you to keep your door to the bathroom open tonight. I’ll do the same with mine. If you need anything, then you can call me.”
To his surprise, she didn’t argue or protest. Instead she just murmured, “Thank you, Brad.”
Before he kissed her and decided to crawl into bed beside her after all, he went out into the hall and closed her bedroom door behind him.
Chapter Eight
Late Sunday evening, Brad’s cell phone rang and he wondered if the caller was
his father. He’d talked to him when they’d returned from the cabin and also checked in with other investigators who were working on projects under Brad’s direction. They all had his cell phone number.
“Vaughn here.”
“Brad, it’s Mark Anderson. Did you find the prospector?”
“Not yet. I’m going out searching again tomorrow. If he went off for the weekend, maybe he’ll be back.”
“Besides his hut, I also heard about a spot where he camps out.”
“Can you give me directions?”
“Do you want company? It’s rough trekking. We’ll have to hike about a mile to where I’m thinking about.”
Brad explained about Emily’s runaway horse. “I’ll pick you up around nine. If Emily’s still sleeping, I won’t wake her.”
“Nine sounds good.”
The following morning, Brad checked on Emily. She was curled on her side, breathing evenly, her one hand tucked under her cheek. She was all feminine and pretty and soft and he wanted to hold her again.
Just hold her?
There was no way he was going to wake her simply to tell her where he was going. Finding paper and pen in his room, he wrote a brief note and laid it on the bathroom sink where she’d be sure to see it.
Twenty minutes later, he’d picked up Mark and they were headed out of town.
“So what’s this guy’s name?” Brad asked.
“Miles Latimer. But everyone calls him Mickey.”
“What does he do out here?”
“He digs in the ground for gold, pans the streams. He has a favorite spot. He told me where it is, but I forgot to mention it to you.”
“He digs for gold with a shovel?”
“A pickax and a spade.”
“Who’s property is he on?”
“I think it’s part of the disputed Douglas property, but no one keeps him from doing it. He’s causing no harm. It’s rugged land and thickly forested.”
“You make it sound as if I should have brought my survival gear,” Brad joked.
