by Susan Fox
“Are you feeling all right?” The gentle concern in his voice warmed her, but she steeled herself against it.
She nodded, but didn’t look at him. He tugged her closer, the heat from his body penetrating her clothes. The feel of his fingers encircling her upper arm sent a sensual charge through her that was only magnified by his nearness. His grip tightened slightly.
“Did you eat?”
Rio tried not to show her surprise at his question. “All I wanted,” she answered, giving her arm a slight tug to free herself. Kane’s grip was firm.
“And, as usual, it probably wasn’t much,” he grumbled. “How long do you think you can go without getting enough food and rest?”
Rio didn’t let herself mistake his concern for caring. And because she didn’t, his questions irritated her.
“I’ll eat when I get hungry and I’ll try to go to sleep earlier at night. That enough for you?” Rio lifted her gaze and glared up at him, hating that nothing between them changed for the better, not really.
“It’s enough,” he said as he released her. “The cabins and cow camps still need to be checked for repairs and supplies. Pick someone to take care of it, unless you’d rather see to it yourself.”
Rio edged away, putting a small space between them. “I’ll work the colt first, then if you don’t mind, I’ll pack a bag and a cell phone and take care of it.” She didn’t need to add that Ramona would be delighted for her to absent herself from the main house for a couple of days. Tracy certainly wouldn’t miss her and, truth to tell, Kane himself was probably eager for her to leave for a while. He seemed to be taking her ongoing presence on Langtry remarkably well compared to what she’d expected, but then, it had only been a couple of weeks since the will had been read.
“Handle it however you want.” Kane’s gaze probed hers a moment more before it wandered over her face. “I’ll be at the house until after lunch.”
Rio nodded, then turned to head down the path to the stable.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE sorrel colt was an enthusiastic student, eventempered, willing and intelligent, but his high-energy exuberance made him a handful. Rio worked him in the round pen the first half hour before she rode him through the gate and along one of the alleys that cut through the corrals toward the range.
The colt fairly pranced with excitement, then responded to her minor scolding and her firm hand on the reins by walking a bit more sedately as they passed through the last gate.
She kept the horse under tight control until she felt his excitement moderate. She rode him to one of the creeks, then into the water. He shuddered beneath her as the water rushed around his ankles, so she urged him to the middle where the creek was knee-high. She stroked his neck and murmured words of praise and encouragement, then had him walk in the water parallel to the bank. They stayed in the creek until the young horse calmed and she felt him relax. After a few moments more, she reined him toward the bank and rode him out of the water.
They rode on for two hours and the colt did well, quickly obeying her signals as she took him from one gait to the next and rode him in a huge zigzag pattern that led them past several hazards. The creek was the first of those, then a couple of windmills, and four oil pumping stations. They practiced going through a gate several times before the colt stood quietly for Rio to reach down to open and close it. The young horse’s resistance to allowing her to close and latch the gate once they were through was the biggest problem.
Rio rode him to a pasture with cattle next, and moved a handful of cows and calves a small distance before she turned from that and started working with her rope. The colt shied the first few times she tried to lasso a fence post, but soon tolerated the throw of the rope.
Deciding the colt knew enough to begin doing some real work, she coiled her rope and tied it on her saddle before she started back for the headquarters. They took a different way back, again zigzagging to visit a few other hazards.
Working the colt on the range had lifted some of her gloom and caused her tiredness to ease, but the hollow feeling of sadness was as heavy as ever. Now that the colt was moving along, competently responding to her signals, her mind started to wander.
She thought about the book Sam had left her, and felt a new pang. She hadn’t been able to find it in the den or in any of the other bookcases around the huge house. The only place she hadn’t checked was Sam’s room. She’d reminded Kane about it a couple of days before, but he’d evidently forgotten it again. Perhaps she should suggest that the two of them check in Sam’s bedroom later.
She was cantering the colt along a barbed-wire fence when she heard a snort and the pounding of hooves. She glanced back in time to see the new bull charge up behind her and the colt from the other side of the fence. In the next instant, the bull hit the wire, breaking through it with terrifying ease.
There was no time to spur the colt out of harm’s way. The moment the bull broke through the taut wire, the impact yanked the top three strands free of their staples. The broken wire recoiled, hissing through the air in Rio’s direction.
She had only a moment to throw her arm over her face before the strands of wire whipped around her and the colt. The colt squealed as the wire barbs twisted into the hide of his chest and lashed his legs. His sudden lunge into the air set the barbs deeper, and his drop to earth tangled his front ankles.
The next few moments seemed to move in slow motion as the colt continued to fight the wire. Rio struggled to regain control of the young horse, but it was a lost cause almost instantly. The wire slashed at her, ripping her clothes and her skin. The animal’s irrational hop toward the intact section of fence next to them caught him in more wire. He stumbled and fell against the four-strand barbed-wire fence and sent them both crashing to the ground.
She had no more than a second for the horse to realize he was more tangled in wire than ever. Just that quickly, he tried to thrash clear of the wire. It took every bit of strength she had to pull the reins so tight that at last the colt lay still.
Rio gasped for breath, dragging in quick little puffs of air as the sharp barbs of the wire cut painfully through her clothes and into her skin. Her left leg was pinned under the colt, but the placement of the weathered fence post he’d knocked down kept her leg from being crushed.
Wire curled over them both, lashing them to what was left of the fence and to each other. But the most dangerous piece of wire lay tight across Rio’s right shoulder and angled snugly against the tender flesh of her throat. She tried to lift her left hand and wedge her fingers between the wire and her throat in hopes of pushing it away, but her arm was caught in the wire.
The only hand she had free was her right hand. The colt started struggling again, and it was all she could do to keep her grip firm on the reins as she tried to keep the frightened animal down. She couldn’t risk letting go of the reins to get the wire away from her throat, but if she couldn’t hold the horse…
Panic overwhelmed her as she held the reins tight and tried to carefully wiggle her left hand free. The sun pounded down hotly, and it surprised her a little to realize that she was already drenched with sweat. She murmured to the young horse, trying to calm him, though they were both shaking with the tremors that went through his big body.
The bull snorted nearby and she froze. She turned her head as far as she could and caught sight of the huge animal standing not a dozen feet away, his head down as he pawed the sod. The dust he stirred floated toward her like a low cloud.
“Oh, God, please—” She watched in horror as the bull continued to dig at the sod. He paused, then lifted his head and bellowed. The horse started at that, and Rio felt his muscles bunch for another attempt at escape.
Tears of pain and frustration crowded into her eyes as she fought to hold the horse still. The wire barbs cut into her skin in what felt like dozens of places. Every time the horse moved, the barbs bit deeper, until she was hurting so much she almost couldn’t lie still herself.
Jus
t when she thought she couldn’t hold the reins any tighter, the bull made a shuffling sound. Terrified, she looked over in time to see the huge beast take a step, toward her. He took two lumbering strides then suddenly, amazingly, he turned and ambled off until he was out of the narrow view she had in that direction.
Relief stole her strength and she felt herself fairly melt against the ground. The restless move of the horse as he again tested the tautness of the wire made her go rigid again as she gripped the reins.
She laid there for what seemed like hours, murmuring to the colt, fighting to keep her grip on the reins, while she tried to free her left hand and arm. The longer she lay there, the more pain made an impression.
Heat and thirst heightened her torment and dizzying fatigue compounded it. Every so often, she turned her head as far as the wire would allow, hoping she’d see another rider, but no one came.
She laid there for so long that she felt herself start to drift. The cloud that passed between her and the sun sent a small breath of coolness over her.
“Hey there, little girl—what is it you got yourself into?”
Sam’s voice, strong and familiar, moved through her and her eyes sprang open to look for his face. The sun was bright behind his head and shoulders as he leaned over her. She couldn’t see his face clearly, but the certainty that it was Sam comforted her so deeply that her fear immediately eased.
“Sam…”
“I’m here, baby,” he assured her, “just lie still. That little sorrel will stay calm if you will.”
How many times had she heard him say that to her when she’d worked a young horse? Just when she realized she was probably dreaming, he said, “Kane’s comin’.”
The slight move of her head caused her pain. “He doesn’t know where I am,” she rasped.
Sam’s voice was confident. “He doesn’t, but the Good Lord knows exactly where you are, honey.”
“H-how are you here?” she got out, then swallowed convulsively at the painful dryness of her throat.
“As long as you remember, a part of me never really leaves. I’ll always be there in your heart, in your memories—” The colt stirred and Sam told her, “You need to keep that rein tight, Rio, cause you can’t come where I am for a good many years. You gotta lot of livin’ ahead of you.”
Rio’s mouth was so dry that she merely moved her lips to say, “Please, Sam, come home.” Her eyes were blurred but she could see him shake his head.
“I am home, sweet girl,” he said gently. “I had my time on the earth. Got myself a strong, healthy, young body again and a good baritone voice to sing in that big church choir up yonder. I’m only here now so you don’t lose heart.”
Somehow it seemed important to let him know that she would hang on. She tried to tell him, but her mouth was too dry to get the words out.
“I know, Rio. I can tell,” he said, as if he’d read her thoughts. “Ain’t you named that colt yet?” he teased, then chuckled. “Might want to call him Barbie. Boz’ll get a kick outta the name, ‘specially after this.”
Rio felt a smile pull at her lips, but she was drifting again and could hardly keep hold of the reins.
Sam’s soft, “I’m leaving now, honey. Kane’ll be here in a minute,” made her stir, but she was so weak. She felt herself begin to sink and her fingers went slack. The coolness gusted over her face and, thinking Sam had come back, she forced her eyes open.
“Sam?”
Kane’s voice was brisk. “Take it easy. I’m here.”
Rio tried to focus on him. The sun was not nearly so bright now, and Kane leaned over her, his big body shading her face. “Sam was here,” she got out, but her voice was barely a whisper.
Kane was growling at someone, cursing, and the colt began to shift on the ground. Rio tried to hold the reins, but they were no longer in her fingers.
“Get those damned cutters over here.” Kane’s voice sounded strange to her, but she couldn’t focus sharply enough on his face to discern the reason. Kane moved, and she felt the tight wire that cut into her shoulder and across her throat go slack. It took her a moment to realize that the quiet snip she was hearing was the sound of a wire cutter.
The colt shifted again, and Kane swore. “If he won’t lay quiet, shoot him.”
The words penetrated her foggy thoughts and alarmed her. “No, please.” She licked her dry lips and tried again. “Don’t hurt him, Kane.”
Kane grumbled something, then swore softly. Rio felt one wire after another snap loose. Once she could turn her head, she could see that there were three cowhands with Kane. He leaned close, then slid his hand beneath her shoulders to gently lift her.
Kane had never felt fear so strong that it made him gut sick, but seeing Rio on the ground in a bloody tangle of barbed wire with a frightened colt tangled up with her had done it. He hadn’t been able to get to her quick enough to ease the terror he felt, the terror he still felt as they worked to free her from the wire.
She was already bleeding from a score of cuts, and he was suddenly terrified that she would bleed to death. When he slipped his hand beneath her shoulders to lift her in preparation for getting the colt off her leg, he felt the sticky wetness that had stiffened the back of her shirt and glued bits of grass and dirt to the fabric.
He glanced over at the cowhand who was getting ready to pull her leg free. Kane carefully lifted her until she was partially sitting up. The other two men had clipped the colt free of the wire and were positioning themselves to help the horse get up. At Kane’s signal, the two men pushed the colt to his feet while he and the third ranch hand pulled Rio out of harm’s way.
It was over in seconds. The colt was unsteady on his feet at first, then stood trembling as flies swarmed over his wounds. The man at his head coaxed him forward. He moved stiffly, favoring his left front leg.
Rio was limp in his arms, her eyes closed. One of the men brought a canteen and Kane trickled a bit of water onto her dry lips. The water roused her and she reached weakly for the canteen. Kane allowed her only two swallows before he took the water away.
“Sorry, baby,” he murmured, “just a little at a time.”
From there, it was a race to get Rio to a hospital. Kane carried her to the ranch pickup that Boz roared up in a few minutes later. By then, he’d sacrificed his shirt, tearing the sleeves out, then ripping it in a few strips to bind the wire cuts on her left arm and wrist. He used what was left as crude pads for the other deep cuts on her left side and back. By the time they got to the ranch headquarters, the helicopter from the nearest trauma center was touching down on the front lawn.
The paramedics took only a few minutes to check her vital signs and start an IV before the helicopter took off. Kane’s last sight of Rio lying so still and frail and bloodied on the stretcher haunted him all the way to the hospital.
Rio lay uncomfortably in the private hospital room, her left arm and side sporting several inches of stitches. Her ribs, hip and leg were badly bruised, and her face and hands were sunburned. Her body temperature had been brought down, her blood pressure was in a good range, but the doctor had insisted on admitting her.
And she was weak. She’d managed to doze off a couple of times, but those brief naps had done nothing to strengthen her. Because she’d insisted on making her-own trek to the bathroom a while ago, she knew precisely how weak she was and it had frightened her.
Kane was in the hospital somewhere, but so far he’d not come to her hospital room. He’d waited outside the trauma room for hours and she’d caught only an occasional glimpse of him as the doctor and nurses worked to lower her body temperature, then to stitch her many cuts. He’d come into the cubicle briefly a couple of times, but finally elected to sit in the hall out of the way.
On the other hand, visiting hours had just ended. Since it was nearly dark, Kane might have already started home. Because they were both early risers, she understood why he might want to spare himself the ninety-mile ride to the ranch at a late hour.
&nbs
p; The idea that she was in the hospital alone sent her spirits downward. She was lying on her right side and tried to shift to find a more comfortable spot, but her battered body ached no matter how she tried to lay. In the end, she gave up and closed her eyes.
Booted steps outside her door roused her from the twilight of half-sleep, but when they stopped without coming into the room, she closed her eyes again, unable to help the disappointment she felt. This was a Texas hospital. Boots were common footwear. Kane’s confident stride was as familiar to her as his face, but perhaps it was her imagination that had conjured the distinctive sound.
She thought again about Sam. She realized now, of course, that his visit that day had been a dream or maybe a delusion brought on by fear and heat and blood loss. But it had seemed so real. She’d actually heard his voice, or thought she had. Hadn’t the way she’d strained to see him been real, either?
In the end, it didn’t matter whether it had been a dream or a delusion. Sam hadn’t really come back to her but, as he’d said, he would always be there in her heart, in her memories. I am home, sweet girl, he’d said. I had my time on the earth. Got myself a strong, healthy, young body again and a good baritone voice to sing in that big church choir up yonder. I’m only here now so you don’t lose heart…
How comforting those words had been! Even though Sam hadn’t really been able to say them himself, they were a balm to her heart and soothed the pain of losing him. His Ain’t you named that colt yet? made her smile.
Kane hovered outside the door of Rio’s room, reluctant to disturb her if she was asleep. It didn’t surprise him to realize that the only place he wanted to be was in that room, watching over her. The protectiveness he’d secretly felt toward her for years was suddenly fierce. He’d never forget how helpless and hurt she’d looked lying in that wire. He’d never forget that in one blinding moment of emotional clarity, his turbulent feelings toward her had settled neatly into place.
