Prairie Heat (Cowboys of The Flint Hills #1)

by Tessa Layne

  “Uh… Have you spoken to Maddie about this?”

  Warren paused, grimacing. “Pah. That girl wouldn’t know the right thing for her if it was a rattlesnake on a pile of laundry.”

  “I doubt that very–”

  Warren gasped audibly, his eyes bulging out, mouth open.

  “Shit. You okay, Sir?”

  Warren gasped again, eyes rolling back, clutching the counter as his knees gave out. OhGodOhGodOhGodOhGod. Blake stepped forward to catch him as he pitched forward. Christ almighty. Warren Hansen was going to die in his arms. What would Maddie say then?

  CHAPTER 5

  Maddie slowed her horse to a walk as she approached the stables. One of the Fermilab perks she enjoyed most was the stable they kept on site. When she’d been a student at MIT, she’d desperately missed her horses. Even though there’d been no time for regular rides. But shortly after she started at Fermilab, she’d convinced her cousins Gunnar and Axel to drive up her Palomino, Daisy, and another mare for Jamey. Her uncle was the best horse trainer in the region, and she was secretly thrilled her cousins had opted to stay in the family business. At the very least, they helped keep an eye on her dad.

  She dismounted and led Daisy to her stall near the barn door to begin the routine of unsaddling and grooming her. The ride, an extra long one today, hadn’t given Maddie the relief she sought. Maybe the slow steady rhythm of grooming would help. She needed to purge Blake Sinclaire from her mind.

  Permanently.

  The man had turned her into a heap of irrational…feelings. A shiver twisted down her spine as she attempted to relieve the itchy, tight sensation that was a constant reminder he’d completely unnerved her. She didn’t have the time or inclination for this. It was affecting her work. To make matters worse, her heart galloped every time she replayed their last encounter in her head.

  Don’t play me for a fool, Madison.

  As if.

  The sting of his accusation still reverberated.

  She wasn’t one of those manipulative, shallow people. If anything, the moment someone showed interest was usually the moment she ran for the hills. She’d learned the hard way back at MIT what happened when you let feelings cloud judgment. It had nearly ruined her academic career, and she’d freeze in hell before she ever let herself make that mistake again.

  Daisy nickered and turned her head.

  “What?” Maddie reached for a treat from the pail hanging on the post. “Sorry, girl. Be glad you’re a horse.”

  Her phone buzzed from inside the bag she’d hung on the hook outside the stall. In many ways, Fermilab shared the qualities of a small town like Prairie. Both in its relative safety, and in the way it functioned like a gossip mill. She’d fielded no less than a dozen questions in the past weeks about who she’d been seen dancing cheek to cheek with at Frenchie O’Neill’s. She should have expected the gossip.

  Especially about a man like Blake.

  His yum factor was higher than ten rocket scientists combined.

  Or more.

  And that made him bad news.

  At least for her.

  And being the subject of the gossip mill was yet another reminder that she needed to avoid entanglements of any kind. Even with a hot cowboy from her hometown.

  The phone buzzed again.

  “What do you think, Daisy? You think that’s Jamey? Think she’s got another prospect for me?” She shook her head vehemently. “No. Thanks.”

  She was done with Jamey’s setups.

  Done.

  Daisy twitched as she reached a sweet spot on her withers.

  “That’s right, Daisy. It’s better to be alone than in bad company. I’ve got a date with fuzzy jammies, wine, and Jeopardy reruns tonight.”

  At least the TV wouldn’t screw you over with someone prettier or easier.

  Her phone buzzed a third time.

  Huh.

  Either her work had just won a Nobel, or she was suddenly popular.

  “They can leave a message, huh Daisy? We’ll finish you up, and then I’ll see who’s burning the phone lines.”

  She finished brushing Daisy then checked her hay and feed. Giving her one final pat, she stepped out of the stall and grabbed her bag, fishing for her phone.

  It buzzed again as she reached for it. At least it wasn’t Jamey this time.

  “Aunt Martha. Just promise me you don’t have a date lined up for me.”

  “Oh thank God, honey. We’ve been trying to reach you for hours.”

  The smile froze on her face as ice cold fear swept into the pit of her stomach. “What is it, Martha? Is everything okay?”

  Martha’s voice hitched. “Oh, honey. Your father had a massive heart attack.”

  Her hands went cold. “What happened? Where is he?”

  Tears thickened Martha’s voice. “Thank God Blake Sinclaire was there when it happened or he’d be dead. I’m sure of it.”

  “What was Blake doing there?”

  “I don’t know, honey, but thank God he was. Rode in the ambulance the whole way. Kept us posted the whole time. Eddie is beside himself. Thinks it’s his fault for–”

  “What do you mean? Where is he?”

  “Oh sweetie. He’s in surgery right now–”

  “Where, Martha?”

  “Manhattan. Via Christi. You know we don’t have any facilities here. They took him by ambulance. They’re not sure…” Her voice rose into a sob. “They’re just not sure.”

  Maddie forced a wave of panic down. “Facts, Martha. Stay with me.”

  Martha hiccupped and sniffed. “Oh God, honey. You need to get here as quick as possible.”

  Dread crashed over her in waves. She’d gone through this with one parent. She wasn’t ready for a repeat. Not after the way she’d left things with her father. She blew out a steadying breath, pushing at her glasses, holding the panic at bay.

  “Okay, Martha. I can get to the airport in about an hour, I’ll come as fast as I can. I’ll text you my flight information. Have one of the boys come and get me.”

  Her clearance allowed her to bypass security, provided there was a flight leaving soon. As a last resort she could call the lab director and request emergency use of the plane.

  She offered a silent thought up to the stars that were popping out as she hurried to her office to grab her laptop. I’m not ready to be an orphan.

  *

  “Flight attendants take your seats.”

  Maddie clutched the armrests and leaned her head back, shutting her eyes. For the last ninety minutes, the plane had been tossed around in the air like one of Dottie’s donuts in a bag of cinnamon. Finally, they were landing.

  She chanted under her breath. “The plane wants to fly, the plane wants to fly.”

  Her terror for her father only slightly trumped her terror of flying. One of the many reasons she’d made repeated excuses not to come home. Guilt washed over her for the millionth time in the last four hours. She pushed her glasses up her nose.

  She should have been the bigger person…

  She should have let the bullying go…

  Should have, could have, would have.

  It wouldn’t change the past, and it wouldn’t change what was. Which was her father, clinging to life. Nope. Guilt wouldn’t change anything.

  And what was Blake doing wrapped up in the middle of this? His voice echoed in her mind. I should have known better than to tangle with a Hansen…

  Had he tried to purchase the property again? Chances were he’d heard from someone that her father wasn’t doing so well. Blake hadn’t come across as the predatory type, but maybe she was wrong. He’d made her head spin that night, so maybe her judgment had been off.

  She exhaled a huge sigh of relief as the back wheels touched down at the tiny airport outside Manhattan.

  She reached under the seat for her bag and fished out her phone. A text was waiting from Martha.

  He’s out of surgery and in recovery. They’ll move him to ICU next.


  She texted back.

  Just landed. I’ll be at the hospital soon.

  At least he was still alive.

  She steeled herself as she stepped into the center aisle. Time to put her game face on. Martha was beside herself, and Eddie would have his hands full caring for her. Someone had to stay on top of things and ask the tough questions.

  A blast of wet, spring air smacked her as she stepped from the plane. The kind of air that felt like more storms would move in. She inhaled deeply, searching for strength as she crossed the starkly lit tarmac to the small baggage area. If Gunnar or Axel weren’t already there, she’d grab a taxi. She quickly scanned the handful of people waiting, looking for height and blond hair.

  She found height. But it wasn’t blond hair waiting for her. A pair of piercing hazel eyes underneath a signature black Stetson locked with hers. Blake. Her stomach flipped at the sight of him. He looked more delicious than she remembered. Suspicion immediately replaced anticipation. Where was her family? Why was he here?

  She stopped in front of him, her eyes glued to his. Even with the crisis at hand, being this close to him set her body vibrating like a neutrino.

  She wet her lips nervously, her mouth suddenly parched.

  His eyes flared, but he made no move to speak.

  Should she speak first? Given the way he’d left her hanging, she should make him squirm. As quick as it rose up, the fight left her. She adjusted her glasses. Now was not the time. She just wanted to get to the hospital and check on her dad.

  “Nice glasses.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Somebody stole my favorite pair.”

  The corners of his mouth curved up as he reached for her bag. She never carried anything at home. Not when the men were around.

  “I like the blue frames.”

  Huh. Was he toying with her?

  He turned, allowing her to step past him, and placed his hand in the small of her back, guiding her through the tiny crowd. It was like having a hot coal at her back. She shivered.

  “You cold?”

  She shook her head. She was, but she’d never admit it. Especially to him. She’d come straight from the stables, grabbed her laptop and called a taxi. She hadn’t even bothered to put her work clothes back on, let alone grab a coat.

  He stopped in front of an oversized F150 she recognized as Gunnar’s. Interesting. He tossed her bag in the bed and opened the door for her, offering his hand to assist with the height. His eyes met hers in challenge.

  Was he daring her to take his hand?

  Or to refuse?

  She paused briefly, her eyes raking down over the white shirt peeking out from beneath his black leather jacket. Down over the worn denims hugging legs of iron to his shiny black boots. Back to his face that held the barest trace of a smile, up to his eyes still daring her to make a move.

  Clearly, he’d been practicing his poker face.

  She held herself perfectly still. If she disclosed her indecision she’d lose this little battle of wills. Keeping her gaze steady, she arched her eyebrows and took his outstretched hand, doing her best to ignore the electricity zinging up her arm.

  It would have been rude not to take his hand. And given the fact he’d helped her family today…

  At least, that’s what she told herself.

  She remained silent as he settled himself in the cab and pulled out of the parking space.

  “How far is it?”

  “Fifteen, twenty minutes, tops.”

  She pressed her lips together and nodded, her father’s words playing on endless repeat in her head. I ain’t got nothing to slow down for…

  Blake let out a sigh.

  “Is this how it’s going to be?”

  She slid a glance at him, pushing her glasses back up her nose. She couldn’t read him in the darkened cab.

  He briefly took his eyes off the road. “Madison… Maddie.” His voice softened. “Look. I’m sorr–”

  She held up her hand, shaking her head, refusing to let him finish.

  “No. Not now. Right now I want to focus on getting to the hospital and seeing my dad.” A lump swelled in her throat, threatening to choke her.

  He huffed out a breath, but didn’t argue.

  The silence stretched between them.

  He shook his head and huffed again. “Maddie. Don’t be absurd–”

  She waved her hand more forcefully this time, glaring at him. “Please. I don’t want to talk about it. Ask me how my flight was.”

  “Your flight?” He glared back at her the next time he glanced over. “Fine. How was your flight, Doctor Hansen?”

  His irritation was not lost on her. Not in the least. But if she was going to get through this ordeal in one piece, she had to compartmentalize.

  “Bumpy.”

  He laughed, shaking his head. A bitter edge crept into his voice. “Anyone tell you you’re a piece of work?”

  She refused to take the bait. Instead, she shrugged, adjusted her glasses, and looked out the window, focusing on the lights moving by. Warren’s voice continued to haunt her. I’m damned sure not gonna wither away to a wisp the way your ma did…

  They pulled into the parking lot, and Maddie hopped out of the car before he’d barely cut the engine. She turned to reach for her bag, but couldn’t reach over the wall of the truck bed. Suddenly, she was thirteen and in need of rescue.

  Again.

  She waited while he locked the truck and took his time coming around the back. His eyes were inscrutable in the shadow of his Stetson. He stopped only when he was toe to toe with her.

  He was so close she could see the whisper of dark curls peeking out from the vee of his shirt. If she inhaled, she’d not only smell his aftershave, she’d smell him.

  Her pulse thrummed in her ears, and she willed herself to not look away.

  He pushed his hat back and bent his head toward her, amusement and something harder flickering in his eyes. Surely he wasn’t going to kiss her? Not here. Not now. Her mind shouted no, but every cell in her body screamed yes.

  Not taking his eyes off her, he reached into the truck bed and lifted her bag. Disappointment briefly squeezed her chest. She didn’t want to kiss him anyway. Not really.

  Pushing her glasses back up her face, she turned and made for the main entrance, as fast as her feet could take her.

  His long strides easily kept pace with her while his hand returned to the small of her back, sending delicious waves up her spine. She slowed once they reached the lobby, unsure of where to go next.

  “This way.”

  He steered her over to the elevator banks and pressed the button. The doors immediately opened. She stepped in and turned, leaning against the back wall, absently watching him push the number six.

  Suddenly the fear that she’d been holding at bay pulled at her like a black hole. There was no escape. Her breath hitched and she concentrated on a scuff on her boots.

  “Maddie.”

  She glanced up sharply. The tenderness in the way he said her name surprised her. It caressed her. Slid into hidden crevices. Left her nerves frayed. She could deal with anger, with sparring. She couldn’t deal with…with this.

  Concern shone through his eyes, but he made no move to stand close to her. As if he knew it would be too much.

  “When was the last time you saw your father?”

  She swallowed the ache in her throat. “A few days at Christmas.” Well that doesn’t count. Her father was right, it didn’t really count as a visit. She’d been home a day and a half at best. Guilt twisted hard in her chest.

  Blake nodded, scrubbing a hand over his face.

  “You need to prepare yourself. He looks pretty bad.”

  The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened to an empty hall. He held the door and motioned her through, catching her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze as he stepped out with her.

  Momentarily overcome with dread, she squeezed back, holding on as if he were a lifeline. They turned the corner t
o the waiting room. Martha immediately cried out, rushing over. She let go of Blake’s hand, but not before she saw Gunnar’s eyebrows shoot up.

  Arms encircled her. “Oh dearie. I’m so glad you’re here.” Martha’s voice caught, and she sniffled, shaking her head. “You poor, poor girl. First your mama, and now this.”

  Maddie patted Martha’s back, consoling the woman. “It’s okay Auntie M,” she said, using the nickname from childhood. The last thing she needed now was her aunt in hysterics. If she was going to learn anything from the doctors, she’d have to stay calm and rational.

  “Where is he?”

  “Around the corner,” Blake answered.

  Judging from the looks on her family’s faces, he’d clearly taken charge of the situation. Uncle Eddie sat in the corner, hunched over a paper cup of coffee. Axel and Gunnar stretched out awkwardly on either side of him.

  She gave her aunt a final squeeze, then extracted herself the embrace. This was all too familiar. The awkward glances, the hyper emotion from her aunt. It was as if her father was already dead.

  Locking her own feelings away for the moment, she took a deep steadying breath, suddenly grateful for Blake’s solid unemotional presence behind her. “I think I’ll go to the nurses’ station and check on him.”

  “You do that, sweetie.” Martha patted her cheek. “It’s been a bit of a blur to us.”

  She strode toward the double doors leading to the ICU, dimly aware of footsteps behind her. She pushed through and stepped into a world that was at once foreign and disturbingly reminiscent of her mother’s last days. The hushed voices of the nurses at the center station, the dim light, the muted whirs and beeps from multiple rooms of machines. Death lurked at every threshold.

  Putting that behind her, she approached the nurses’ station. “Hi. I’m Maddie Hansen. I’m here to see my father.”

  The matronly nurse looked at her kindly. “Oh yes. They brought him in a few minutes ago.”

  She nodded.

  Her heart slammed into her ribs as her eyes flitted around the bays. Blinking rapidly, she tensed her body to hide the shaking. Her hands were like ice.

  “What’s the twenty-four hour prognosis?” The words tasted like cardboard in her mouth.