Or maybe she should. If she didn’t show up, Emma would for sure know something was wrong.
Not wrong. Different. Changed.
Ginger just needed something to happen on the ranch. A sick horse. A tourist that had gone off the path. Heck, she’d even take a swarm of locusts.
Okay, maybe not a swarm of locusts. Life at Hope Eternal Ranch was usually fairly quiet, though there were days when she’d texted her friends and told them she wouldn’t be in for lunch. Otherwise, the women in the West Wing gathered for their midday meal.
Before she could turn fully away from the shed where Nate had disappeared, her phone rang. Only a moment later, the siren they used on the ranch filled the air. Cowboys and cowgirls started to spill out of sheds, barns, and stables, and Ginger couldn’t hear her phone ringing anymore.
Spencer’s name sat on the screen, and another call came in over his. Emma.
Ginger’s mind raced, and her heart sprinted, but she swiped away Emma’s call and answered Spencer’s. “Talk to me,” she said, plugging her left ear as she held the phone at her right.
“Accident in field four,” he said, breathless. “I need you here.”
“Did you activate the siren?”
“Yes,” he said. “Someone’s down out here, and I don’t know who. We need a count, and Emma’s calling the paramedics.”
Confusion needled her mind. “She called me.” She took several steps toward the equipment shed. Field four was too far away to run there in a reasonable amount of time. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll be there in five.” She hung up and stopped next to the nearest person, who happened to be Jessica Morales, her chief stable master and one of the women who lived in the West Wing.
“Send out the call for a count at the homestead,” Ginger said, her voice demanding and crisp. “Group text. And find out if Emma did call the paramedics. Text me who’s missing and what’s going on with medical assistance.”
Jess didn’t ask any questions; she nodded and got busy on her phone.
Nate met Ginger at the door. “How can I help?”
“Go to the homestead and keep everyone calm,” she said, wishing she was one of those he could comfort. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
He let his fingers trail down her arm as she went past, and Ginger appreciated the touch. She threw her leg over the nearest ATV and zoomed out the back of the shed, turning sharply to get going in the right direction toward field four.
Spencer’s truck idled near the fence line when Ginger arrived, and she parked beside him. She also didn’t bother to turn off the ATV as she hurried to climb the fence and get out to where he stood, waving both hands above his head.
She jogged toward him, hoping she didn’t land on a divot or hole in the field and twist her ankle. Her phone pealed, and she answered it.
“It’s Nick,” Emma said, her voice panicked. “Besides you and Spence, he’s the only one not here.”
Ginger’s blood ran cold, and she forced her feet to move faster. “Thanks,” she panted into the phone before she lowered it from her ear. It couldn’t be Nick.
He can’t be hurt, she thought over and over again.
Spencer started yelling, but Ginger was still too far away to hear the words. Just noise entered her ears, and she felt something wet on her face. Crying. She was crying.
What would she tell her aunt? She’d promised to take care of Nick, who wasn’t even twenty years old yet.
As she neared, she could make out Spencer’s words. “He’s okay, Ginger! He’s okay!”
She didn’t slow down, her eyes focused solely on her cousin, who was on the ground and not moving. How was that okay?
She finally arrived, Spencer talking a mile a minute. “I saw the tractor out here going this morning, but I didn’t think anything of it. Then, the next time I drove past, Ursula was running in a circle out here, and there was no one in the tractor. So I pulled over and jumped on-board to get it stopped. I tried to get Ursula to come, but she wouldn’t. She barked and barked and barked..” He scrubbed down Ursula, who paced in front of Nick.
She barked on cue, and Ginger focused on the dog.
“She’d come toward me for a few feet, bark, and then go back to him,” Spencer continued. “Remember how you asked where she’d gone this morning and I didn’t know? I think she’s been out here with him.”
Ginger reached for the German shepherd, needing the extra support. Ursula didn’t stop pacing though, and she whined before she licked Nick’s face. He wasn’t bleeding, and Ginger didn’t know where to put her hands.
The dog barked again, and Ginger knelt down on the ground next to her cousin. “Nick?” she asked. “It’s Ginger. Can you hear me?”
“He said a couple of things a few minutes ago,” Spencer said. “I think he’s okay.”
“He’s clearly not okay,” Ginger snapped, her anxiety reaching a boiling point. “Sorry,” she said immediately afterward. “He’s hypoglycemic. He needs orange juice.” She stood up, frantically searching for the tractor. “He’ll have had something with him. Did you check his pockets?”
“No,” Spencer said. “I didn’t know he was hypoglycemic.” He just stood there, and Ginger wanted to shake him.
She started toward the green tractor in the distance. “Check his pockets,” she called over her shoulder. “If he has something to suck on—a piece of candy, a mint, anything—put it in his mouth.”
“Ginger,” Spencer called after her, but she faced forward and focused on breathing as she ran. The tractor was closer than the ATV, and she hurried to climb up into the cab. A handful of butterscotch candies sat in the tray right below the key, and she grabbed however many would fit in her palm.
A jolt went up her legs when she jumped back to the ground, but she pressed on. Nick could be slipping into a coma by now if he’d been out here for hours. What time was it? What time had she noticed Ursula was missing?
Ginger didn’t have any of the answers to her questions, and a couple of the candies fell from her fingers as she ran. “Hold on,” she said, but she wasn’t sure if she was talking to herself or to Nick.
She made it back to his side, and Spencer said, “He didn’t have anything.”
“Help me hold his head up so he doesn’t choke,” she said, frantically unwrapping one of the butterscotches. “He had these in the tractor.”
“I thought he just liked those,” Spencer said, kneeling on the other side of Nick. He moaned as Spencer lifted him so he was lying in Spencer’s lap.
“Have you ever seen him eat one?” Ginger asked, taking a moment to look at Spencer.
He just shook his head, and Ginger reached out to put the candy in her cousin’s mouth. “All right, Nick,” she said. “Here’s one of your candies. Come on now. Eat it all, okay?”
“The ambulance is coming,” Spencer said, nodding over her shoulder. Ginger turned to look, quickly refocusing on Nick. A bit of dribble came from the corner of his mouth, and she wiped it away.
Panic built in her chest—until Nick groaned, his mouth moving around the candy.
“That’s right,” she said. “Chew it, Nick.”
He didn’t wake completely before the paramedics arrived, but some of the color had returned to his face, and he was moving a lot more. So much that Ginger worried he’d spit out the candy.
She stood to let the two paramedics get closer to him. “He’s a diabetic,” she said. “Hypoglycemic.” She held out the few remaining candies she had. “He always carries these with him, and we gave him one.”
“All right,” one of the paramedics said. “What’s his name?”
“Nick,” Spencer said. He came to stand beside Ginger, and he put his arm around her. She leaned into him, because he was taller and stronger than her, and Ginger felt one moment away from falling apart completely.
“Nick,” the man said. “My name is Carlos. We’re going to take real good care of you.” He looked at the other man. “Byron, check his pulse.”
Carl
os continued to give Byron instructions, finally turning back to Spencer and Ginger. “He’s new on the job.”
“New on the job?” Ginger almost shrieked. This was her cousin’s life. She wanted the most seasoned paramedic in the force. “How is he?”
“His pulse is strong,” Byron said. “He’s not feverish, but he is sweating, which is a common sign of hypoglycemia. Shaking, also a sign.”
“Should we give him another candy?” She held one out to Carlos, who looked at it like it was a poisonous snake.
“Let’s get him to the bus and put in an IV,” he said to Byron. “Careful now.” They got him on the stretcher easily, as Nick was made of more bones than muscles.
As they took him past Ginger, Nick turned his head and said, “Ginger.”
“I’m right here,” she said, hurrying to his side and taking his hand. Walking with the paramedics like that wasn’t easy, but Ginger didn’t care. “You’re okay. You’re going to be fine.”
“Candy,” he said, his eyes fluttering open. “Ursula.”
“She’s right here too,” Ginger said. “She got Spencer’s attention. She saved you.” A sob gathered in the back of her throat, but Ginger swallowed against it. No one needed her tears and panic right now. She could sob into the shower later.
She left the ATV with Spencer, and told him to let everyone at the ranch know what was happening. She climbed in the back of the ambulance with her cousin, and they’d barely reached the highway when Nick opened his eyes.
“What’s going on?” he asked, trying to sit up.
“Whoa, there, Nick,” Carlos said. “You’re strapped down for safety, but it’s nothing to be worried about.” He looked up at Byron. “Looks like the drip worked.” He grinned at his partner, then Ginger, then Nick. “We’re taking you to the hospital so you can be fully checked. Can you tell us what happened?”
“I was out in the fields,” Nick said, settling back to a prone position. His eyebrows drew down. “I got really thirsty, but I didn’t have any water. So I was going to go in and get some, but my heart started beating too fast. My vision blurred. I…don’t know after that.”
“Did you know you were going to pass out?” Carlos asked, putting on a pair of glasses as he started filling out a sheet on a clipboard.
“Yes,” Nick said. “I got out of the tractor, because I could tell. I couldn’t think though. I usually have candy with me, and I just pop one of those in. I couldn’t find them.” He looked at Ginger, tears gathering in his eyes. “I didn’t eat breakfast.”
“It’s okay, Nick,” she said, though a measure of frustration filled her. He was never supposed to go out onto the ranch without eating. Without water. And without his candy. Ever.
“I was in a hurry,” he said, closing his eyes. “I have a date with Miss Samantha tonight.”
Ginger worked hard not to roll her eyes, though her cousin wouldn’t see her with his eyes closed. Carlos chuckled. “Well, Nick, she might have to come see you in the hospital.”
“No way,” he said, his eyes jerking open. He looked from Carlos to Ginger. “Ginger, you can’t let her come to the hospital.”
She leaned closer, trying to be compassionate but really wanting to crack her knuckles against his forehead. “I’ll keep her away this time,” she promised. “But if you rush out to work without eating again, I’ll put you in the hospital myself.”
Nick just blinked at her, but Carlos and Byron both chuckled. She straightened and looked at them. “I won’t,” she said. “Not really. But come on, Nick. You scared all of us. Spencer set off the siren.”
“I’m sorry,” Nick said, sounding absolutely miserable. “I’m sorry, Ginger. It won’t happen again.”
Seeing her cousin unconscious on the ground wasn’t what she’d wanted to keep her from the homestead, but it had worked. She got busy sending texts then, and she accompanied Nick into the hospital, where his mother soon arrived.
Only then did Ginger step out and lean against the wall, a sigh pulling through her whole body.
Her phone rang, and Nate’s name on the screen reminded her of the bone-bending kiss they’d shared that morning.
That morning.
It felt like a year ago.
“Hey,” she said after she’d connected the call.
“Hey,” he said. “Connor and I want to come to the hospital and eat lunch with you. Would you let me bring your truck in?”
“Alone?”
“Yes,” he said. “I’d be alone with Connor from the ranch to the hospital.” He waited for her to answer, and Ginger’s mind went around and around. He wasn’t supposed to leave the ranch without someone with him, but he did have a driver’s license. And she would like to see him and Connor.
“Okay,” she finally said. “Tell me when you’re leaving, so I know when you should be here.”
“I can stay on the line with you if you’d like,” he said.
“That’s not necessary,” she said. “My keys are in the top drawer in the West Wing. Emma can probably find them for you.”
“I’ve already got them, sweetheart,” he said. “We’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
Chapter Thirteen
Nate pulled the rope tight to keep the barrels in place. He needed to get them out to the new bird blind he’d finished last week. Sweat ran down the side of his face, but he ignored it. He’d been at Hope Eternal for eight weeks now, and he finally felt like he knew how things worked.
“You got that?” Spencer called, and Nate finished tying the knot around the metal pole.
“Yep,” Nate said. “Done.” He turned to the other cowboy, who drank from a bottle of water.
He finished the whole thing and said, “You can’t go out unless you drink. Ginger will kill us both.”
Spencer was right, so Nate stepped over to the cooler just inside the shed and got a bottle of water. He managed to swallow a few mouthfuls to appease Spencer, and the two of them loaded up in the ranch truck.
Nate hardly ever drove, and today was no different. Spencer took them over the bumpy roads to the far north side of the ranch, which surprisingly was pretty swampy. And water and tall reeds meant a lot of birds. People paid quite a bit to come to Hope Eternal and see the birds that lived here, as Nate had learned over the weeks.
They came to see beehives and wear bee suits to harvest the honeycomb too. Children and adults alike came to ride horses. Summer campers came to learn about butterflies and farming. The number of people who came to the ranch had alarmed Nate at first, but now he was used to seeing the dirt parking lot to the west of the homestead full of cars and trucks.
“All right.” Spencer let out a sigh that spoke of his exhaustion. “Let’s get these unloaded.”
“You stayed up too late, didn’t you?” Nate asked as they got out of the truck.
“Only a little.” Spencer wore a guilty grin as he came to the back and started on the rope on his side. “I just couldn’t quit in the middle of the level.”
“Yeah, and that’s why Nick didn’t shower before he left.” Nate chuckled and untied the rope on his side. “You know Ginger is going to be cranky about that.”
“Yeah, well, Nick can deal with that. I managed to get up when my alarm went off.” Spencer hauled the first barrel off the truck. “And anyway, if you just take a walk with Ginger, she won’t be so cranky anymore.” He shot a knowing look at Nate, who froze.
“What?”
“Oh, come on, man,” Spencer said with a laugh. “You two disappear every morning, and she comes back like she met Santa Claus out there and got a year’s supply of gifts.”
“I—” Nate cut himself off, because he didn’t know what to say. He had no defense. He honestly hadn’t known anyone knew about his and Ginger’s morning walks.
“You’re seeing her,” Spencer supplied for him, reaching for another barrel. “Right?” He cut a glance at Nate, who still couldn’t get himself to move.
“I mean, I guess?” Nate guessed.
&n
bsp; “Oh, boy,” Spencer said, grunting as the barrel came off the truck and he had to bear the full weight of it. “Okay, I’m just going to tell you this, and then you can do what you want with it.”
“I really don’t want to hear it,” Nate said, pulling his gloves on and reaching for the nearest barrel.
“Too bad,” Spencer said. “I didn’t want you to tell me I couldn’t aim to save my life, but you said it anyway.”
“That was a video game,” Nate said. Spencer and Nick loved their video games, and Nate didn’t mind watching after Connor went to bed. He still slept with Nate at night, and Nate didn’t mind at all.
He’d asked Connor about adoption, and then Bethany when she’d come to the ranch for a few hours one weekend. Her kids played well with Connor, and she’d told him he should definitely adopt Connor.
Nate had talked to his parents, and he’d learned that his mother was starting to forget things and that his father had been diagnosed with stage one colon cancer.
He called them a few times a week, because he was the oldest now and Ward wasn’t around to do it. Sometimes the fact that Ward wasn’t around hit Nate pretty hard, and thinking about adopting Connor usually sent him into a depression.
In the end, Nate had decided to go forward with the adoption. He’d filed all the paperwork with his lawyer, and now they were just waiting.
“This is real life,” Spencer said. “And you should know Ginger’s dated a guy like you before.”
Nate’s blood pressure rose. “A guy like me?”
“A guy in the RRC program,” Spencer said. “He seemed like a nice guy. I actually liked him. Then, one day, he disappeared, and the next thing I know, Ginger is telling us she might lose the ranch and that this guy had stolen thousands of dollars from us all.” He’d stopped unloading to tell his tale.
Nate didn’t know what to make of it. “I’m not going to do that,” he said.
“Yeah, because Hyrum’s back in prison,” Spencer said.
“I’m not going back there,” Nate said, fierce determination in his voice. He wasn’t. He had Connor to think about now, and he couldn’t be irresponsible to the point where he could lose the boy he was going to adopt.
Hopeful Cowboy: A Mulbury Boys Novel (Hope Eternal Ranch Romance Book 1) Page 11
