How to Catch a Cowboy (Riverrun Ranch Book 3)

by Karen Foley

  She had to get to the roof.

  Inside, the water had almost reached the top of her boots and it was even higher on the other side of the door. She didn’t think it was safe to open it. Holding the flashlight, she slogged her way through the kitchen to the bathroom at the rear of the house. Here, the window was set higher than the other windows and the water level hadn’t yet reached the sill. Opening the sash, Jessie climbed out until she stood on the outer sill and clung to the roof gutter. The rain pummeled her as she got a toehold on the window frame and managed to pull herself up onto the low roof, scraping her hands and legs in the process. She crawled on her hands and knees to the highest point and grabbed hold of a vent stack that protruded through the roof. Then she hung on for dear life.

  Jessie had no idea how long she clung to the vent pipe. Although the night air wasn’t cold, the rain and fear chilled her until her teeth chattered. Her hands were slippery and she had a hard time holding on to the pipe. The darkness was deceptive, distorting her depth perception so that she could no longer tell how high the water was or how fast it was moving. But she could hear it, gurgling and splashing and rushing past the house. How far inland did the flood extend? Her cottage was situated on a low-lying stretch of land, but the main road was on higher ground. Surely, a rescue vehicle would be able to get close.

  Suddenly, a light penetrated the gloom, illuminating the sheeting rain and swirling water. Jessie blinked rapidly, and then released the pipe with one hand long enough to wave frantically.

  “Here!” she yelled, although she knew whoever it was couldn’t possibly hear her. “I’m here!”

  The light came closer and Jessie realized it was a small boat with two men in it. They wore yellow, reflective raincoats and the man in the front held up a massive spotlight. The boat pushed through the flood waters toward the house. For just an instant the spotlight swung away from her and Jessie could see who sat in the front of the boat.

  Holt.

  “Thank God,” she whispered.

  *

  Holt swept the spotlight over the house and, through the driving rain, he saw Jessie on the roof, clinging to a pipe. She raised a hand to let him know she was okay. Some of his anxiety subsided, but he wouldn’t breathe easily again until he had her on solid ground and in his arms. The water had risen over the deck and reached the middle of the windows of the tiny cottage. As soon as he received Jessie’s call, he and Evan had hitched the small boat they kept at the ranch to Evan’s truck and raced to Jessie’s house. The fire department had already arrived, but with the access road underwater, had been unable to reach the house. Two firefighters helped Holt and Evan launch the boat, while a third called in for air support, should they need it. Holt hoped to hell they wouldn’t.

  Now he assessed the situation. The current in the middle of the river was moving fast, but around the house it churned slightly less aggressively. Both he and Evan wore life jackets, and he’d brought an extra one for Jessie.

  “I’ll bring us right up to the side of the house,” Evan shouted. “Can you reach the roof?”

  As Evan motored the boat up alongside the cottage, Holt secured a length of rope and the spare life jacket over his shoulder and stood, taking care not to rock the boat any more than necessary. The rain was relentless, lashing at his face as he reached up and grabbed the edge of the roof.

  “Don’t move,” he shouted to Jessie. “I’ll come to you!”

  Hoisting himself onto the roof, he made his way to where Jessie clung to the vent stack. Her bare legs were scraped and raw and her Western boots provided little traction on the rough shingles. As he reached her side, she released the pipe and flung her arms around his neck. They started to slide and Holt had to grab the pipe so that she didn’t unbalance them both.

  “You’re here, you’re really here!” Her voice caught on a suppressed sob.

  “Of course I am, sweetheart,” he reassured her, holding her tightly with one arm. “But you should know I charge a lot for roof rescues.”

  “Anything,” she said. “Whatever you want!”

  “Okay, I’ll remind you that you said that later.” Holt grinned. “But for now, we’re going to get you down from here. Are you hurt?”

  “N-no, just scared.”

  “Well, you don’t need to be scared anymore. I’m here and in another few minutes you’ll be in that boat and on your way to a nice, hot bath. Here, let me help you put this on.” He placed the life jacket over her head and fastened it securely around her waist. Dropping the rope from his shoulder, he found the loose end. “I’m going to tie this around you,” he said. “Just as a safety measure.”

  He passed the rope under her arms and created a secure loop. “Now, we’re going to just take our time and inch our way toward the edge of the roof, okay? Then I’ll lower you into the boat with Evan.”

  “Okay,” she agreed.

  Holding her against his chest, Holt used his body to shield her from the rough roof as they began inching their way toward the edge. Planting his heels against the lip of the gutter, he ran the loose end of the rope behind his back and looked at Evan. The rushing water would make it difficult to safely transfer Jessie onto the undulating boat. Even now, the small craft pitched back and forth in the current as Evan fought to keep it in one spot.

  “Ready?”

  “Hand her down!” Evan called. “I’ve got you, Jess!”

  Holt helped Jessie scoot to the edge of the roof. “Turn onto your stomach. I’m going to lower you down.”

  Jessie did as he asked while he gripped her around her wrists. She locked her gaze on his. “I love you,” she shouted, blinking at him through the rain. “I need you to know that, whatever happens.”

  Something tightened in his chest, like a coil that had been overwound. Then it snapped and broke free. When he spoke, his voice was rough with emotion. “I shouldn’t have let you leave. I’ve been crazy about you for years.” He began to lower her over the edge. “But I need you to get into that boat, Jessica.”

  “Holt—”

  “Woman, would you please get in the damned boat?!”

  The water level was high enough that, as Holt lowered her down, Evan managed to hook an arm around her hips. Holt released her, and both she and Evan fell backward, but managed to stay inside the small craft. Holt tossed the trailing end of rope down after her.

  She was safe.

  He barely had time to register the thought when he caught sight of a fallen tree at least sixty feet long, moving toward them in the current at an alarming rate. There wasn’t enough time for him to climb into the boat, not the way it was pitching and rolling, and there was every chance the log would hit both the cottage and the boat.

  “Evan,” he shouted, pointing at the log. “Get her out of here!”

  Evan spotted the tree moving swiftly in their direction. “Holt, jump!”

  But it was too late. The massive roots of the log struck the corner of the house. Holt barely had time to brace himself for the impact when there was a loud cracking sound. The structure gave a shuddering heave and the entire house tilted at an alarming angle. Holt was thrown onto his back against the roof shingles as the pouring rain beat against his face. He rolled over and tried to regain his bearings, but the house shifted sideward, pitching him over the edge of the roof. He managed to grab on to the gutter as he fell, but realized the house had broken free from the pilings and now it spun in a slow arc. Below, he could hear the sloshing and gurgling of the river as it swept past, but the rain and the darkness and the angle of the house prevented him from seeing if Evan and Jessie had escaped the impact.

  The water sucked at his legs as the house started to move downstream and he scrambled for a foothold, when suddenly the gutter began to pull away from the wall. Holt made a desperate grab for the roof, but his hands were slick and the suction of the current on his lower body too strong. The gutter ripped completely away and Holt’s roar of denial was cut short as he plummeted backward and the dark, churning f
loodwaters closed over his head.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jessie watched in horror as the cottage shuddered beneath the force of the impact. Evan gunned the motor and turned the boat away, but not before she saw Holt fall backward onto the roof. The entire house seemed to groan in protest and then the river slowly, inexorably sucked the structure from its mooring.

  “Evan!” she shouted. “We have to go back! He’s getting swept away!”

  “There’s too much debris!” He pointed at the massive tree that had swung around after hitting the house. Evan only just managed to get out of its path as it pivoted and threatened to block their escape. Now it rode the current alongside the small house as it began to move downstream. “We can’t get close enough to pick him up. It’s too dangerous! Holt knows the risks. He’ll be okay!”

  Jessie stared at Evan in disbelief. “Evan Claiborne, if you don’t turn this boat around, I swear I’ll do it for you! We need to go after him!”

  Evan was a volunteer firefighter and she trusted him with her life, but this wasn’t her life. This was Holt’s. Even now the cottage was drifting farther away and visibility grew worse. Soon the small house would be gone.

  “Please, Evan!”

  She saw the indecision on his face as he aimed the spotlight downriver, but the rain made it nearly impossible to see anything.

  “Okay!” he shouted, and handed the spotlight to her. “Keep the beam in front of us and hold on tight!”

  He motored the small craft after the cottage, dodging debris in the water. As they drew closer to the drifting house, Jessie shone the spotlight over the roof but there was no sign of Holt.

  “He must be in the water!” She trained the light onto the surface of the river. She saw tree limbs and logs and lawn furniture, but there was no sign of Holt.

  “Please, please,” Jessie chanted in a small, fervent prayer.

  “There are first responders positioned downstream,” Evan shouted to her. “If Holt makes it that far, they’ll grab him!”

  Jessie stared at him in disbelief. “What do you mean if he makes it that far?”

  Through the sluicing rain, Evan’s expression was somber. “I’m not going to lie to you, Jess. This is a dangerous situation. But if anyone can survive, Holt can. He grew up on this river. He’s smart and he’s strong.”

  “We have to keep going! At least until we reach the first responders. Please, Evan?”

  After a second, Evan nodded. Lifting his handheld radio, he relayed the information to the firefighters on the road, and then grimly steered the little boat through the churning water, keeping an eye on any debris that might be coming up behind them. Several times they had to duck to avoid low-hanging tree limbs. But there was no sign of Holt. In the distance, Jessie could see the flashing red, blue, and yellow lights of the emergency vehicles positioned on the road, as close to the water as they could get.

  Then her light picked up something reflective in the water, just a little ahead of the boat.

  “There he is!” she cried, grabbing Evan’s arm and pointing.

  Evan maneuvered the craft next to Holt, who floated faceup in the water, unmoving.

  “Help me get him into the boat!” Evan shouted.

  Jessie heard the panic in his voice as they grabbed Holt by his life jacket and then Evan single-handedly dragged him on board, where he lay motionless on the floor. Jessie bent over him, noting the gray pallor of his skin.

  “Hurry, Evan!”

  As he gunned the motor toward the emergency vehicles, Jessie tried to remember what she knew about CPR. With the pelting rain and sloshing movement of the boat, she couldn’t tell if Holt was breathing or not. There was a nasty gash on his head that disappeared beneath his hairline, and the water was tinged red where it trickled from his hair.

  “Holt,” she said urgently. “Holt, can you hear me?”

  There was no response, and Jessie put her hand to his face, scared by how chilled his skin felt beneath her palm. Her own heart was racing with fear and adrenaline. Tipping Holt’s head back, she pinched his nose shut, sealed her mouth over his, and blew air into his lungs. Her head felt light and it was as if she watched herself from somewhere outside of her own body, trying desperately to breathe life back into the man she loved.

  The prow of the boat bumped against solid land. As Evan leaped out, two firefighters surged forward, lifted Holt out of the boat and carried him to a nearby stretcher, where emergency medical technicians quickly began working on him. But when Jessie would have scrambled after him, Evan held her back.

  “Let them do their job, Jess.”

  Jessie allowed him to lead her up to the main road, where a firetruck and an ambulance waited. An EMT approached her and wrapped a thermal blanket around her shoulders.

  “Those are some pretty nasty scrapes you have.” The woman eyed Jessie’s bare legs. “Come over here and let me take a better look.”

  Jessie reluctantly went with her, but couldn’t tear her gaze from where Holt lay on the stretcher. She couldn’t see him, surrounded as he was by medical personnel and firefighters.

  As the EMT examined her scrapes, Jessie covered her mouth with her hands, more terrified than she had ever been in her entire life. Holt was so big and strong and solid, it seemed impossible that anything could hurt him. He’d saved her life. How was it possible that he was now fighting for his own? She didn’t realize she’d begun to cry until someone pulled her into his arms. It was Luke.

  “Hey, hey,” he said, awkwardly patting her shoulder. “I got here as quick as I could. If anyone can get through this, Holt can.”

  Jessie nodded mutely against his shoulder, but couldn’t prevent her soft sobs. They watched as the EMTs worked over him for several more minutes. Then a path cleared as they lifted him into the ambulance. Pulling free from Luke, Jessie ran toward him. An oxygen mask covered Holt’s nose and mouth, and a white bandage on his forehead stood out starkly against his dark hair, but as the EMTs settled him into the back of the vehicle, his eyes opened briefly.

  He was alive.

  “I’m riding with him,” she insisted.

  She clambered in beside him as an EMT closed the doors. The driver flipped on the siren and they began to move. Despite his tan, Holt’s face looked bleached of color as he lay on the stretcher with his eyes closed. Blood seeped through the bandage on his forehead. The EMT took a seat on his other side and, after covering him with a thermal blanket, administered an IV drip. Jessie took Holt’s hand in her own. He was so cold. She closed her fingers around his, willing her own warmth and life force into him.

  “Holt,” she said softly. “I’m here, baby.”

  His eyelids flickered. Then they opened and she found herself trapped in the dazzling blue depths of his eyes. Withdrawing his hand from her grasp, he reached up and pulled the oxygen mask away from his face. His movements were slow and deliberate, as if the action took all his strength.

  “No, don’t do that,” Jessie chided. “You need to keep that on.”

  “Can’t,” he croaked.

  Jessie bent over him and taking care to avoid the bandage, smoothed his wet hair back from his face. “You’re safe now. Don’t talk, just rest.”

  He lifted his hand and stroked a finger over her damp cheek. “Don’t cry.”

  A new rush of tears threatened as Jessie caught his hand in hers. She smiled at him through blurred vision. “They’re happy tears, I promise. You’re here and you’re alive and that’s all I care about.”

  “I have to tell you—” He broke off as a coughing spasm racked his large frame.

  “Keep this on, please,” the EMT said, replacing the oxygen mask. “We’ll be at the hospital soon.”

  “Save your strength,” Jessie urged. “I’m not going to leave you, Holt. I’ll be right here.”

  Within minutes they were pulling up to the hospital and the doors of the ambulance opened. Jessie tried to stay with Holt as he was rushed into the emergency room, but found herself whisked a
side by an ER nurse.

  “I understand you were caught in the floodwater.” The nurse’s expression was sympathetic. “Let’s find you some dry clothes and then we’ll take a look at those scrapes.”

  “I’m fine. I need to go with him,” Jessie protested, turning to watch as Holt’s gurney was pushed down the corridor away from her. “I promised I wouldn’t leave him.”

  “They’ll be running some tests and you would only be in the way.” The nurse rummaged through a cabinet and handed Jessie a set of blue scrubs. “Here you go. And here’s a pair of hospital socks and a towel. I’ll give you a few minutes to change. You can put your wet clothes in this plastic bag.”

  Alone in the small, curtained area, Jessie stripped out of her sodden clothes. Only then did she realize her legs were raw and abraded from the roof shingles. She pulled on the scrubs and was pushing her clothes into the plastic bag when the nurse reentered with a small tray of medical supplies.

  “Just hop up here and I’ll clean those scrapes.”

  Jessie did as she asked, wincing as the nurse pulled bits of asphalt and dirt out of the cuts before applying an antiseptic ointment and covering them with a light gauze pad.

  “When can I see Holt?”

  Before the nurse could reply, they heard a commotion in the hallway outside the exam area and then the curtains were pushed aside. Jessie’s eyes widened as Luke, Evan, her parents and Rosa-Maria crowded forward.

  “Jessie!” Gina cried and rushed to pull Jessie into an embrace. “Evan called us and we came right away. Are you hurt?”

  “No, I’m fine,” Jessie assured her. “Holt saved my life. He and Evan rescued me with a boat, but Holt was trapped on the roof when the cottage got swept away. Is he going to be okay?”

  “The good news is that he has no water in his lungs, but they’ll likely keep him overnight as a precaution,” Luke said. “He has a mild concussion from the head injury.”