With Thanksgiving days away, Brice was finding it difficult to find much to be thankful for this year.
He had been so sure he could win Bailey’s heart, change her mind, and make her fall in love with him.
How wrong he had been.
You couldn’t win what didn’t exist and right now he was convinced Bailey was a heartless shell, albeit a lovely one, who cared only about furthering her career.
“Guess I should have listened to Trav in the first place, huh, Xavier?” Brice said, rubbing the horse’s neck.
The horse bobbed his head again, nickering at the sight of another horse and rider. Brice waved to one of the Running M ranch hands. Stopping a few feet away, they discussed what they’d both found, where some fence needed repairs, and continued on their way.
Brice ignored his phone when it rang, tugging the collar of his coat up higher, trying to block out the chilly air. He should have remembered to put on a scarf or at least wrap a wild rag around his neck before he saddled up Xavier and headed out an hour ago. These days he was lucky to remember to put on his jeans and socks before pulling on his boots, since his thoughts seemed to be lost somewhere else.
So far, the storm damage to the Running M was minimal and Brice was glad the repair work needed could be completed quickly. Since he was no longer working construction, he’d been spending more time helping his dad with the ranch when he needed a break from his woodworking.
When his phone rang again, Brice dug it out of his pocket and looked at the number belonging to one of the neighbors.
“Hey, Chris, what’s up?” Brice asked, trying to force a somewhat civil tone into his voice.
“Hey, man, we’ve got some trees down over here from the storm I thought you might want for your woodworking business,” Chris said.
“Sure,” Brice said, mustering a little enthusiasm. “What’ve you got?”
“There’s a huge walnut tree and two maples that bit the dust. My wife’s been after me for two years to take those trees out because they were old and she was afraid they’d kill someone if they ever fell over. Lucky me, the storm took care of all that work of cutting them down.”
“Sometimes nature can be really helpful,” Brice said with a trace of humor in his voice. He knew the wood from those trees would be worth a pretty penny. “What can I pay you for the wood?”
“Shoot, Brice, I don’t want anything for them. You’ll be doing me a favor if you come haul them off. Maybe you could make something for the missus and we’ll call it even,” Chris said.
“That’s a deal. I’m tied up today cleaning up over here and tomorrow I’ve got to run into Portland, but I could come the following day,” Brice said, thinking about the best way to move the trees without cutting them into pieces. He wanted the trunks in one solid piece if possible. “I’ll borrow the Triple T’s flat bed and haul the trees that way.”
“I’ll be gone that morning, but you could come and start taking off the limbs and by the time I’m back in the afternoon, we can use my loader tractor to lift them onto the trailer.
“Sounds great,” Brice said, excited about the gift of wood. “Thanks a lot, Chris, I really appreciate this.”
“Anytime, man. I appreciate you taking them off my hands.”
Brice disconnected the call, feeling better than he had for a while. Riding the rest of his section of fence, Brice was thoroughly chilled by the time he got back to the barn and brushed down Xavier. He took time to wipe down the saddle and carefully store it in the tack room. Although it had seen better days, Brice liked to ride with his grandfather’s old saddle. The leather was smooth and worn and it always made him think of his grandpa.
Going into the house, he made himself a cup of hot chocolate and a sandwich then hurried out to his workshop to finish up some samples he was making to take to Portland with him the next day.
Calling several exclusive furniture stores and home décor galleries, Brice had six appointments the following day to show off his wares and hopefully contract to sell some pieces.
He knew the work for Hart would take him a while to finish, but he wanted to make sure he had business lined up for future projects.
Travis, with his computer design skills, created business cards and a simple brochure for Brice. Deciding to call his business BM Wood Crafts, Travis created a logo using an image of a piece of wood, rich with grain, highlighted by a BM branded on it. Under the brand were the words wood crafts followed Brice’s name.
Thankful for Travis’ help, Brice now had a website with photos of some of his creations, a list of the types of wood he used and information about the types of orders he accepted. He’d already received a few phone inquiries about some custom pieces in the last week.
Although his business seemed like it was on the verge of taking off, Brice had a hard time balancing his excitement about it with the residual pain from Bailey’s rejection.
Trying to give her time and space to come to her senses and realize she loved him every bit as much as he loved her, Brice hadn’t called or texted her once. Talking to Sierra every few days, she kept him updated on what was happening with Bailey.
According to her, Bailey was miserable, depressed and Sierra claimed she’d never heard her sister sound so unhappy before. Sierra was concerned, as was Brice, but Bailey was an adult and had to deal with the consequences of her choices.
The last time he spoke with Sierra, she encouraged him to reach out to Bailey, convinced she would talk to him if he called.
Fairly certain she wouldn’t, Brice just wasn’t ready to put himself through more pain and rejection where Bailey was concerned. He had to talk himself out of driving to Dayville to see her more than once and almost daily he started to send her a text message before he realized what he was doing.
He hoped at some point either his heart would start to mend or Bailey would open the door she had so firmly closed behind him. If something didn’t change soon, though, Brice thought he might either break down the door or bust out a window.
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“Are you sure you should go over there by yourself?” Travis asked for the second time as Brice climbed into the Triple T semi and started it. He was borrowing their truck with the long flat-bed trailer to haul his trees from the neighbor’s ranch. The Running M didn’t have a flat-bed trailer, although all three of the Morgan men were licensed to drive a semi.
“It’s fine, Trav,” Brice said, stepping out of the truck and looking to make sure the tie down straps he’d brought along were securely stored until he needing them on the trees. “I can’t believe everyone decided to be gone the same day.”
“Yeah, what are the odds of that?” Travis asked with a laugh. Trent went with Lindsay to a doctor’s appointment in The Dalles, Tess was at work and Cady accompanied Trey to Madras to pick up a load of supplies at the feed store. Travis was on his way to Condon to check out a couple of horses for sale. Mike Morgan was at a farm sale in Prineville, Michele was at her job in Moro at the bank and all the hands from both ranches were still busy cleaning up from the storm or involved with their regular duties.
“By the time I get the trees ready to load, Chris said he’d be home then Dad should be back at the ranch when I get the trees over there,” Brice said, climbing back in the truck. “Piece of cake.”
“Yeah, well just be careful with that chainsaw,” Travis cautioned, uncomfortable with the idea of Brice not having any help.
“Yes, mother hen,” Brice laughed as he shut the door and started the truck down the Triple T’s long driveway.
Pulling up at the neighbor’s place, Brice drove out in an empty field to turn around then got to work on the walnut tree.
Using the chainsaw to strip off all the branches, he realized his safety goggles would have been helpful to remember as chips flew around his head. Donning his sunglasses, he was grateful the day was only cool and not rainy. Working up a sweat, Brice stripped off his coat. Warm in his shirtsleeves as he finished the walnut tree, he was gratefu
l he at least remembered to put on his chaps to keep his legs from being hit by all the flying wood debris.
Walking a few hundred yards closer to the house, the maples had fallen together and were harder to access. It was almost noon when he stopped to get a drink of water from the jug he brought with him. Taking out his phone, he checked his messages, responded to his texts and started to send Bailey a message before he caught himself.
Old habits died so hard.
Running a hand over his face, he pocketed his phone, put his sunglasses back on and tugged his gloves into place. Picking up the chainsaw, he returned to his work.
Cutting into one of the last limbs on the second maple tree, Brice was hoping Chris would get back soon so they could load the trees.
Flashes of orange visible through the tree limbs gave Brice a glimpse of pumpkins piled next to the house’s back step. Seeing the orange orbs immediately sent his thoughts chasing after visions of Bailey.
He thought of the day he took her to the local pumpkin patch and they snapped photos sitting together on one monstrous pumpkin. There was the day they drove to Portland with Travis and Tess to go to the corn maze, the afternoon they’d all gone apple picking, and the night he’d talked her into going horseback riding beneath a harvest moon.
Even though it had been three weeks since he’d seen her, Brice could feel the silky smoothness of her skin, taste the sweetness of her kisses, hear the sultry sound of her voice when she whispered in his ear. He’d thrown out his mother’s green tea because the scent of it pained him beyond reason, bringing to mind all too clearly the unique fragrance that was Bailey.
Lost in his thoughts of Bailey, Brice wasn’t prepared when the chainsaw was pinched in the cut he was making. In a lightning-fast reverse reaction, the guide bar kicked back, slicing into his leg.
Brice killed the motor and looked to see blood flowing down just above his knee from a gaping cut through his chaps and jeans. Lowering himself to the tree trunk, Brice dug out his phone and started to call for help, remembering no one was around. Leaving messages with his dad and Travis, who would most likely be home soon, he pulled off his belt and wrapped it around his leg, while trying to call his mom. Realizing too late he pushed the wrong number, Brice managed to say “help me, please,” before he blacked out.
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In her twenty-seven years, Bailey had never known the true definition of several words until she told Brice goodbye.
During the past few weeks, she had become intimately acquainted with what misery, desolation and heartsick really meant.
With every breath she took, she missed Brice. Instead of the pain lessening as the weeks went on, it grew more intense, consuming her thoughts. She felt like she was sinking in quicksand. The more she struggled to get over Brice and move on, the further she sank into her feelings for him. To make matters even worse, she couldn’t stop herself from listening to the song Wanted several times each evening, resulting in many tears and self-loathing.
If she thought she was distracted when she was dating Brice, it was nothing compared to what she was now. She could barely function, forgot to eat, and had made more errors in her work than she’d made in her entire career.
“Bailey, I need you to quit for the day,” Anthony said, walking behind her and shaking his head. Since Halloween, Bailey had been like a different person. He didn’t know what was going on with her, but something needed to change. She was miserable at best and she was too good of an employee to lose.
He was afraid she’d move on somewhere else if she couldn’t resolve what was bothering her here. With plans in the spring to offer Bailey a permanent position, Anthony was almost certain she’d take it.
“What? Why?” Bailey asked, turning around to look at her boss, confused by his words.
“It’s Friday. Pack a bag, go back to Grass Valley for the weekend and take care of whatever it is that has made you so upset these last few weeks. You can’t go on like this,” Anthony said, giving Bailey a pointed look.
“I’m sorry,” Bailey said, forcing herself to maintain eye contact with Anthony. “I realize I’ve been a little distracted lately. I’ll do better, I promise.”
“If your definition of a little distracted is categorizing that last Patriofelis bone as a magnolia, then I agree, you’ve been a little distracted,” Anthony teased.
Blushing, Bailey was still mad about that embarrassing error. The large cat-like predator was anything but plant-like. It was humiliating to make stupid mistakes even a green intern would be smart enough to catch.
“My apologies, Anthony. I realize my work has been subpar and I’ll do my best going forward to perform at a much higher level,” Bailey said, her throat tight with the range of emotions she was experiencing.
“Bailey, you’ve worked circles around me, and everyone else, since you arrived. Something is obviously bothering you. Go home. Get it taken care of. Since next week is Thanksgiving, take the week off and plan to come back the following Monday. That gives you ten days to get whatever is bugging you fixed. I’d much rather you rectify that situation than worry about a simple mistake or two here,” Anthony said, looking at his watch. He took Bailey by the shoulders and turned her toward the door. “Go home. Now. I insist. I’ll see you the Monday after Thanksgiving.”
“But, Anthony, I can’t just…” Bailey spluttered as Anthony pointed toward the employee access door where they kept their personal belongings.
“Yes, you can and you will. Have a great Thanksgiving, Bailey, and do whatever you need to do to mend things with that young man of yours,” Anthony said with a raised eyebrow and knowing smile.
“How could you possibly…” Bailey asked, then cut herself off. “Thank you. Happy Thanksgiving.”
Making herself eat some lunch, Bailey was packing a bag to take to Grass Valley when her cell phone rang. Seeing Brice’s face pop up on the screen, she was surprised he would call. He hadn’t sent one text or email, or left her any messages since she told him goodbye. Why today, of all days, would he call?
Unable to stop herself, she answered on the third ring.
“Help me, please,” Brice said before the line went dead.
Bailey listened and heard only silence. Brice sounded odd, in pain, maybe. Frightened, she tried calling him back only to have his phone ring then go to voice mail. She left him a message to call her back, then tried calling Tess and Travis, getting only their voice mail as well.
Grabbing a last few things and stuffing them in a suitcase, Bailey set the thermostat in the house, called and left a message with her landlord that she was going to be gone for ten days in case there were any problems at the house, then hustled out the door.
Hurrying to her Jeep, she was grateful the weather was clear today, even if the temperature was cool.
Speeding as fast as she dared, Bailey felt like she’d swallowed a rock as her stomach tightened at the thought of something happening to Brice. He’d never called and left her a message like that and the only time she’d heard such pain in his voice was the night she watched him walk away from her.
An hour away from Grass Valley, Bailey decided to try Brice’s phone again. When an unfamiliar woman’s voice came on the line at the fourth ring, Bailey nearly dropped her phone.
“Brice Morgan’s phone, may I help you?” the woman said.
“I’d like to speak to Brice, please,” Bailey said crisply, annoyed beyond belief that Brice let some woman answer his phone. What was he doing? It didn’t seem like it took him long to get over his broken heart and move on.
“I’m sorry, Brice is unable to speak. My name is Sandy, I’m a nurse at the hospital here in The Dalles.”
“The hospital! Is Tess or Travis there?” Bailey asked, in shock.
“No. Brice was just brought in and we’ve been unable to contact any of his family. I personally know Tess and she’s out doing home visits today. We’ve not been able to get through on her phone.”
“Oh,” Bailey said, feeling panic
settle over her. “What happened? Will he be okay?”
“I’m not at liberty to discuss that, miss, but if your name is Bailey, Brice was asking for you when he came to a few minutes ago.”
“That’s me. I’ll be there as quick as I can. I’m a couple of hours away right now,” Bailey said, relaying information to the nurse about how to reach Michele Morgan. Bailey called her Aunt Denni and asked her to go to the hospital as soon as she could leave the quilt shop where she worked.
Hitting the accelerator, Bailey no longer cared if she got a ticket as she hurried to the hospital. She tried calling Tess and just happened to catch her between appointments. Bailey agreed to swing by and pick her up on her way through Grass Valley. Tess was waiting at the diner owned by Cady’s Aunt Viv. Bailey barely stopped when Tess jumped in and they were back on the road.
“Mom is on her way, dad’s still not answering and neither is Trav,” Tess said, wiping tears from her cheeks. It wasn’t that many months ago the family had rushed to the hospital when Travis was injured in a freak windsurfing accident.
“Where is everyone today? I tried calling the ranch house and no one answered,” Bailey said, wondering how no one could be home at the Triple T.
“Cady and Trey went to Madras and I just remembered Lindsay said something about Trent going with her to a doctor’s appointment. Trav went to look at a couple horses in Condon, and dad’s at a farm sale in Prineville,” Tess said, surprised at the how fast Bailey was driving. “I called the hospital and they said one of the neighbors hauled Brice in with a bad leg wound.”
“What was he doing?” Bailey asked, afraid of what they’d find at the hospital when Tess said he was cutting up trees.
“I’m guessing the chainsaw went through his leg,” Tess said, anxious as they sped toward The Dalles.
The Cowboy's Autumn Fall Page 27
