“She owes this cowboy her life,” someone else said.
But Jed was barely listening. He’d done some simple doctoring on the rodeo circuit, but always to other hardheaded cowboys. Never to a pale, fragile beauty. He knelt at the woman’s side and leaned over her, touching her cheek softly.
“Come on, darlin’,” he said so only she could hear. A baby was crying someplace nearby, and all around them people were talking—yelling—but he closed out all the noise and hubbub. “You can’t be done fighting with me yet, darlin’. Open up those pretty blue eyes.”
As he spoke, she stirred slightly, turning her head with a soft moan. Her right hand fluttered slightly, like a bird with a broken wing.
“I think she’s waking up, Daddy,” Lissa told him, dropping her overnight bag next to him as she knelt on the edge of the coat.
Jed stayed bent over the woman, kept on talking in that same soft voice. “Just open those eyes now.”
Her hand fluttered again and he took it in his. She clutched him back, sending ripples of warmth down his arm that he had to force himself to ignore. He tried to find reassurance in the strength of her grip, but she still wasn’t waking up.
“Maybe she’s in a coma,” the old man said.
“I heard people can be in comas for years and years,” someone else said. “She might never wake up.”
Jed glared at the man who was speaking. “Somebody want to get me a damp cloth?” Jed asked. “And how about a glass of water?”
Lissa sat back on her heels, watching as the waitress and an older man hurried off. “You think she’s thirsty, Daddy?” she asked.
“I think people needed a way to help.” He smiled at his daughter so serious and worried. then turned back to the woman, brushing the dark hair from her face. A thin trickle of blood had been hiding under her hair. Damn. The little lady had taken a whack to the head.
He glanced up for a moment to listen to sounds in the distance, then back down. “Help’s coming, darlin’. Hear those sirens? They’ll be here in less time than it’d take a Brahma bull to toss me.”
He squeezed the woman’s hand a little tighter but her grip didn’t change and he couldn’t help but frown as he stared into the woman’s face. Her dark hair spread out over the cream color of her coat. His heart trembled before he told it to be still. It was just that she looked so very fragile.
“Here, honey, here’s a damp towel.” The waitress handed the damp cloth to Lissa. “You wash her face a little. Your daddy can’t let go of her.”
“I don’t have to.” Jed took the towel from Lissa in his free hand and wiped away the trickle of blood, then pressed the cool cloth to the woman’s temple. A little color returned to her cheeks.
“Why can’t Daddy let go of her?” Lissa asked.
“Because,” the waitress said. “He’s pouring the life force from his soul into hers. It’s how she maintains contact with this world.”
He made a face at Lissa, telling her not to believe all this, but she wasn’t looking at him. She was staring at his hand clutching the woman’s. As if she was seeing the force, the energy, the power go from him into the stranger. Which was all hogwash, of course.
But was it his imagination or was more color returning to the woman’s cheeks?
The old man came back with the water but there wasn’t much for Jed to do with it. If this had been a cowboy, Jed might have thrown the water into his face to wake him up. Where the hell was that ambulance?
“You know, she looks like Snow White, Daddy,” Lissa said slowly. “Maybe you should kiss her.”
“Kiss her?” Jed’s heart practically stopped. But at the same time, his eyes were drawn to the woman’s lips, almost against his will. Certainly against the advice of his head. “I can’t kiss her.”
“You have to,” Lissa argued. “That’s how the prince helped Snow White wake up.”
“Well, I’m not a prince.” He shifted his weight off his bad knee as if it would shift everyone’s attention somewhere else. “I’m just an ex-rodeo cowboy.”
“You saved her life,” someone pointed out.
“You’re on your knees in front of her.”
“That’s all stuff princes do,” someone else said.
Prince Charming. Prince of a fellow. Prince-brand spaghetti. Jed took a deep breath to get his scattered thoughts back in place. They reassembled reluctantly and he went back to his cowboy doctoring. Pressing the wet cloth to her forehead and cheeks, squeezing her hand.
“Where’s the ambulance anyway?” he muttered. “Hang in there, darlin’, help’s a comin’.”
“Daddy, she needs a kiss,” Lissa pressed. “Just a little one.”
He was getting worried that the woman wasn’t coming to. She really should have by now, but a kiss wasn’t going to help. She needed medical treatment, not a fairy-tale remedy. Still, what would it hurt?
He leaned down and brushed her lips with his. It could hardly even be called a kiss. There was no pressure, no lingering, no dancing of souls on the edge of ecstasy.
No awakening, either. He sat back on his heels, conscious of a tingling in his lips even so. It was just worry or embarrassment, but he could feel the tingling spread a slow warmth through him.
“Darn,” Lissa said sadly. “It was supposed to wake her up.”
He hadn’t been asleep so it couldn’t have woken him up. “It was a long shot,” he admitted. “But here’s the ambulance.”
It had just rolled into view, planting itself in the opening where a plate-glass window had once been. Jed gratefully watched as three attendants, two men and a woman, came hurrying into the building.
“Move back, please. Move back,” the female paramedic said as she pushed her way through the small crowd. The paramedic plunked a medical bag down and dropped to her knees, but she barely had room to open it. “Come on, people. Let’s give the lady a little room.”
They backed off a little more but Jed only moved enough to make room for Lissa to come around next to him. The woman was still clinging to his hand and he had no urge to pull himself free. They were wrong about this life-force stuff and certainly wrong that he had saved the woman’s life, but he wasn’t taking any chances.
“She get hit by debris?” the paramedic asked.
“I don’t know,” Jed said. “I tried to pull her away from the door and she collapsed. She’s got a cut by her hairline.”
The paramedic had slipped a blood-pressure cuff around the woman’s arm, and was listening to her heart. Once she pulled the tips of the stethoscope from her ears, Lissa’s worries spilled out.
“She’s gonna be okay, isn’t she?” Lissa whispered to the paramedic. “We don’t want anything to happen to her. Daddy’s her prince.”
“Lissa,” Jed cautioned. She shouldn’t be saying that.
“Her prince, huh?” The paramedic was paying more attention to checking the woman’s blood pressure. But then she smiled at Lissa. “Glad to hear it. Every woman needs a prince, don’t they?”
“I’d rather have a cat,” Lissa said.
The paramedic laughed softly and waved at one of the other paramedics. “Bring the stretcher, Charlie.”
The woman stirred slightly, but her eyes still didn’t open. “It’s okay, darlin’,” Jed told her softly, encasing her hand in both of his. “You’re gonna be fine now. You just relax.”
“Are they taking her to the hospital?” Lissa asked.
“They have to,” Jed told Lissa. “Holding her hand and talking to her isn’t going to make her wake up.”
“Daddy tried kissing her.”
The paramedic laughed as she shoved her bag to one side. “We’ll try a few other things first and if they don’t work, we’ll let your dad try kissing her again, okay?”
Charlie collapsed the legs of the stretcher so that it was on the floor next to the woman. “I think you’ll have to let go now, sir.”
“Oh, yeah. Sure.”
They were moving the woman onto the stretcher and
her hand came free from Jed’s easily. As if she hadn’t been clinging to him for all she was worth. Maybe he had imagined it. Just as he was imagining that her face went stiller and a touch paler as he stood up.
“You can come in the ambulance,” the first paramedic told them. “Or you can follow us to the hospital. We’re going to Memorial Hospital.”
Go with? “No, no,” he said. “I think you must have—”
But the paramedic was already moving away, the wheels of the stretcher crunching on the glass covering the floor. Someone gave him the woman’s coat. Someone else handed him her purse.
“Wait, Daddy.” Lissa had bent down to pick up her overnight bag and pulled a set of keys from under a nearby vending machine. “I think these are hers, too. Her name must be Karin. That’s what it says on the key chain.”
“Oh, yeah?” he said as Lissa handed him the keys. “We’ll give these to the paramedics and they can make sure Karin gets them.”
Lissa frowned, her eyes filled with puppy-dog sadness. “Can’t we take them to her ourselves?” she asked. “Then we could make sure Karin’s okay.”
Part of him was tempted, but the stronger, smarter part knew better. “That would be butting in, Lissa,” he said. “Karin’s in good hands. She doesn’t need us anymore.”
Lissa trailed along after him toward the door. “The paramedic said every woman needs a prince.”
“I’m not a prince,” Jed pointed out. “I’m just an old rodeo cowboy.”
He stopped in the doorway for Lissa so they could pick their way over the debris together. Broken glass, spilled trash, pieces of the glass and metal sign that had hung over the door. Everywhere they walked, there was a mess, though there was a narrow path that the paramedics had cleared for the stretcher.
Jed went over to the rear of the ambulance, waiting a little ways off while they loaded the stretcher into it. The woman was lying still. Her face seemed even paler as a now-gentler rain kissed her skin.
Jed turned to look away, drawing in a deep, ragged breath. “Boy, that was some storm,” he said to Lissa as he glanced around the parking lot. He would be glad once they were on their way again. This was a little unnerving, too much like roping a calf without the rope—suddenly he couldn’t seem to do the simplest things.
“Daddy,” Lissa said in a worried whisper.
He just shook his head. “It’s okay, darlin’. She’ll be fine. In fact—”
“No, Daddy, look over there,” she said, pointing across the parking lot. Two trucks had pulled in. Two television-news trucks.
“Hey, look at that.” It was the old man from inside. “Guess they’re coming to take pictures of the hero here.”
“You two are gonna be celebrities,” the waitress said. She sounded as if she thought that prospect was exciting.
Jed’s stomach fell about ten feet. He looked at Lissa and she stared back at him, her big brown eyes worried. Regretful. Resigned.
Damn. Double damn. “Where are your sunglasses?” he asked.
She shrugged and waved toward the restaurant. “In there someplace. I think I dropped them.”
“Are you coming, sir?” the paramedic called. “We’re ready to go.”
Jed looked at the TV-news trucks with their satellite dishes and retractable antennae. Once they stopped, there would be no hiding. The story of the rescue would be told and then the reporters would come to interview him and Lissa. And they’d all recognize her. Her being here would be a big story, and once her face was on the news, they’d never be able to slip into the festival undetected. Her dream of reliving her mother’s fun would never happen.
Lissa’s only chance was if they left now. If they gave the coat and purse and car keys to the paramedic and raced for their car. It wasn’t parked too far away, just over there—
Where the news trucks were stopping. Oh, hell. He wouldn’t be able to move the car without asking them to move the trucks.
“Are you—” The paramedic stopped. “Oh, you’ve got your keys out. You going to follow us in your car?”
Jed looked at the keys in his hand. The keys had the Jeep Cherokee emblem stamped on them. And, parked not ten feet from him, was a Jeep Cherokee. He hit the keyless remote and the nearby car flashed its lights as it unlocked the doors.
Why not? Karin would need her car at the hospital anyway. And he and Lissa could get a ride back here later, after the news crews had gone.
“We’ll pull up behind you,” he told the paramedic.
Lissa grabbed the coat and purse from him. “I’m going to ride in the ambulance,” she said.
“Lissa!” But she was already climbing in.
“That’s fine,” the paramedic said. “It’ll help your wife relax to have your little girl with her.”
“My what?” Jed stared at the woman as she climbed into the ambulance after Lissa. “But she’s not—”
Off to his right, the doors of the news trucks opened. He saw the crew spilling out and heard a reporter ordering them about. It wasn’t the time for arguments or discussions. Besides, the ambulance doors were shutting and the engine was running. He hurried over to the Jeep.
Within moments he was rolling out of the parking lot after the ambulance, the news trucks left behind. The paramedic’s mistake was no big deal. He’d correct it once he got to the hospital.
Karin grimaced at the bright light shining in her face and tried to turn away. The darkness had been so warm and safe. It had left her feeling loved somehow, loved and cared for. She hadn’t wanted to leave it.
“She’s coming around,” someone said.
But they weren’t going to let her return to that safety, and the urge to retreat slipped slightly away. She squinted at the anxious faces around her. A couple of men, a woman and—Karin blinked—the cowboy and his daughter. Though the cowboy kept glancing out the curtains as if he was looking for someone—or bored. What was he doing here anyway?
“How many fingers am I holding up?” someone asked.
Karin turned to stare at him. It was a doctor. Then she remembered. Leaving the ladies’ room at the tollway oasis. Arguing with the cowboy and a sound like a jet landing on the roof as all hell broke loose. She put her hand on her belly. Was her baby okay? It had to be. She had a headache but felt fine otherwise.
“Ma’am?” The doctor was holding up his hand in her face. “Can you tell me how many fingers I’m showing?”
“Three,” the little girl answered.
“Lissa, honey,” the cowboy corrected.
His voice did funny things to Karin’s insides.
“I was just trying to help,” the girl said.
Karin could hear the cowboy’s boots shuffling on the floor. “Answering for the lady’s not helping the doc see how bad she’s hurt,” he said.
The cowboy’s voice was familiar somehow, in ways that felt warm and caressing. Maybe it was the soft drawl that was so easy on her ears. Or the way his low tones seemed to slide under her reserves and cuddle up to her. She wanted him to go on talking.
“What do you say we wait outside, Lissa?” he said. “See if we can find that paramedic.”
Karin’s spirits suddenly sagged. His talk about leaving didn’t feel nearly as soothing to Karin’s ears. It was dumb, she knew. And surely a sign that she’d been badly injured. She shouldn’t care either way.
“No, you’re fine here,” the doctor was assuring him. “And Beverly’s probably long gone.”
Beverly? Karin’s spirits took a nosedive, no longer sagging but now flattened on the ground. She took a deep breath, clamping down on her crazy reactions. It made no difference to her if he wanted to leave the cubicle to go talk to another woman. Who cared?
“I don’t suppose it mattered anyway,” the cowboy muttered with a resigned glance out the curtains’ opening.
What doesn’t? Karin wondered. Was he hoping to ask Beverly for a date?
The doctor was trying to claim Karin’s attention. “Let’s try again,” he was saying to her. �
�And no prompting from the audience, please. How many fingers?”
Karin looked at the hand in front of her, suddenly all the more anxious to be out of here. “Two.”
“Very good.” He shone a light in her eyes, then stepped back to make a note in her chart. “How’s your head? Aching?”
“It’s fine. I’m fine,” she said briskly. “When can I leave? I’m supposed to be at a wedding soon.”
What time was it anyway? She looked around the cubicle. Emergency rooms always had clocks. Ah, there it was. And if she left now, she wouldn’t be too late.
Swinging her feet to the side of the gurney, she sat up. Her head throbbed and the room swayed—but it wouldn’t for long. If she just concentrated, she would be fine.
“Hey, wait a minute,” the doctor said. “You aren’t going anywhere yet. We need to get some test results back.” He put his hand on her shoulder and pushed her gently down. “So you can just take it easy.”
She didn’t want to take it easy, but lying down did feel better. Though only for a minute. Once the room stopped spinning, she would catch her breath and sit up again.
“It looks like the lady here’s doing good,” the cowboy said. “So we’ll just be on our way.”
That was fine with Karin, but apparently not with the doctor. He closed her chart with a snap.
“Do you have to?” the doctor asked the cowboy. “I’d really rather someone stayed with her but I can’t spare a nurse right now.”
Karin didn’t want or need anybody here. “I’m fine,” she pointed out sharply. “You can all go.”
“No, we can stay.” The little girl had been staring out the slit in the curtains but turned around. “Can’t we, Daddy? There’s too many people outside the hospital right now anyway. It looks like somebody’s there with a camera taking pictures.”
“Really?” The cowboy now sounded about as anxious to go out there as Karin was to go back to Chesterton this weekend.
But the doctor laughed. “The news crews always come here for footage after a big storm. You two must be the only ones in the area that don’t want to be on the news.”
Not exactly. Karin had no desire to be on TV either. Though the Chesterton gossip network would be just as efficient.
Pregnant & Practically Married (The Bridal Circle #3) Page 3
