Riding for Redemption

by Bonnie R. Paulson

  Static announced someone returning his call. “Mayfair, we’re at the forest. Point your light up or something, so we can locate you.”

  He’d forgotten to shoot off the flare. With everything else, he’d left it tucked into the saddlebag on the horse. Of course, they wouldn’t be able to find anything with such thick cloud coverage and his rain protection.

  Reaching between them, into his pocket, Johnny searched with his fingers for the flashlight. Closing his hands on it, he flicked the switch.

  Light filled the wanna-be tent. He stopped for a moment, taking in the peaceful curve of her lips. Used to being surrounded by women who adorned themselves in more makeup than he’d seen on drag queens in Las Vegas, Johnny’s reaction to her refreshingly clean face took him by surprise.

  Seeking out the neck hole of the slicker, Johnny pointed the flashlight upwards, hoping it hit the tops of the trees while he attempted maintaining their cover. A sudden rush of responsibility hit him in the chest. For no apparent reason, he didn’t want to have come so far, promise her everything was going to be okay, and then not deliver on that.

  No matter how much his uncle and the Circuit had to pay to keep him out of trouble, Johnny refused to be the ass hat everyone suspected him of being.

  Through the sound of the rain and the bubble around them, a shout – though muffled – carried, followed by another and another.

  Relief flooded Johnny. He’d found Sara Beth, but he’d never be able to get her out of there safely. Not by himself.

  The voices drew closer and in less than a minute, rough careful hands drew the slicker from their forms. Johnny blinked at the bright headlamps trained down on Sara Beth and himself. He lifted his arm to ward of the glare as he searched to figure out who had come.

  Three medics, Michael, and four ranch hands Johnny didn’t recognize peered down.

  Michael stepped forward, offering his hand. “Here, let me help you up.”

  Johnny pulled his hand tight to his chest. “No, I’m sorry. I can’t. Her head is resting on my arm and she said something about not being able to feel her legs. I need them to secure her head and neck. I have no idea what I’m doing.”

  Worry had him looking down. If she couldn’t walk and it was because of something he hadn’t done right, he’d never be able to forgive himself.

  Michael motioned the medics forward with their cervical spine collars and back board.

  Johnny didn’t flinch when they threw the slicker back onto him as they prepared her. The slap of the thick material resounded harshly in the close quarters of so many bodies. Wrenching the slicker from his face, he struggled to watch as they handled her.

  What if she wasn’t okay? What if he hadn’t made it there in time or his body heat hadn’t been enough?

  Johnny would see her again.

  The next morning, if he had his way, to make sure he could look himself in the mirror – make sure she was okay.

  Rolling her to the side to place the board behind her back and setting her neck in the trauma collar, the medics took care to move around Johnny, but they didn’t take longer than necessary to get him adjusted and out of the way, too.

  Johnny waited until she’d been loaded to the backboard the medics strapped her to before he climbed to his feet. Rain drizzled down the back of his shirt and down into his jeans. He closed his eyes for the briefest moment at the incredibly uncomfortable sensation. Great. Just freaking great. If he was cold, he could only imagine how Sara Beth was faring.

  He stepped forward, prepared to volunteer to keep her warm in the ambulance.

  But Michael approached him, hand outstretched. “Thanks, man, so much. I’m truly grateful you went the opposite way we did.” He sluiced the rain from his face, adjusting his hat to a more drastic downward angle in front. Following Sara Beth with his eyes, he patted Johnny’s shoulder. “What made you come this way?”

  “You said she was on Sugar. I’ve seen that mare enough on the Circuit to remember how she works. She’s a runner and when she doesn’t get her way, she comes back and sulks.” Johnny had no doubt Sugar would be more of a handful than anyone else wanted to deal with.

  “Sugar, huh?” He watched Sara Beth another moment. “Okay, well, thank you.” Michael moved away, his attention on Sara Beth.

  Leaving Johnny to wander back to his horse and then to find his way back to Rourke Ranch. He had a hospital to get to.

  JOHNNY JERKED AWAKE. Arms crossed over his chest, he lifted one hand and rubbed at his eyes. Conserving energy wasn’t on the hospital’s priority list. Their fluorescent lighting hadn’t abated since he’d followed Sara Beth to her floor eight hours before.

  He’d set up camp in the waiting room which just happened to be close to her room.

  Morning, but he wasn’t sure on the time, had arrived with taunting slothfulness. He pulled his feet from the chair he’d set up to rest them on. Leaning forward, he stretched his back and neck. Sleeping in waiting room chairs required more flexibility and a much shorter person than his own six-foot-two-frame.

  Before he fell back to sleep, he grabbed a cup of stuff passing itself off as coffee. Blowing on the black sludge, he ambled toward Sara Beth’s assigned room.

  He hadn’t had the guts to go inside yet – but that made him feel cowardly. He wasn’t afraid to see her again... more like he didn’t want to be so easily forgotten. Plus with all the machines beeping around her, she looked even frailer than when she’d been half-drowned by the log.

  The nurses had cleaned her, removing the mud and other debris from her fall. The woman previously hidden by circumstance looked more like a school girl than a reckless horse thief hell-bent on committing suicide. Long dark lashes shadowed the tops of her cheeks. Even un-styled, her thick dark-gold curls teased him with their silken twists and turns.

  Would she remember him and his promise to make sure she was safe?

  Why did he care so much?

  Johnny reached up and squeezed the back of his neck, rolling his head side to side.

  A woman, similar in appearance to Sara Beth – minus the curls, slept on the visitor chair. Tucked into the corner, she’d been difficult to see and her presence added a greater definition of uncertainty.

  Was he an idiot for staying? For wanting to see Sara Beth? To touch base with her and make sure she actually was okay? Things didn’t look terrific. Once again, he’d screwed up. Not intentionally. He hadn’t known, but from what he’d heard from the medics who’d rescued her, she most likely wouldn’t walk out of the hospital.

  She’d be alive, but not walking...

  Not riding...

  Not stealing horses...

  How much did she remember? He remembered holding her, keeping her safe. But would she? Would she remember him? Or would they blame the guy who’d lifted her head to keep her comfortable and warm?

  Johnny didn’t know what bugged him more – the fact that she might forget he’d saved her or the fact that she might not forget he’d been there and could be the only reason she couldn’t feel her legs.

  He stepped backwards, out of the room, and spun on his toe to head back to Rourke Ranch. But what would he say? Sorry I jostled Sara Beth’s neck or spine. Do you know if she’s going to be okay? Can I get a job with you? Oh, ignore my past. Even my uncle can’t hire me because of the insurance problems for the next couple months.

  He couldn’t help but carry all kinds of guilt on his shoulders. He reclaimed his chair and crossed his arms. Might as well try to slip into that nap again, as ugly as it was.

  After things settled down and Johnny could ascertain that Sara Beth was okay, he’d move on to the next ranch and try getting a job there. He’d heard about Lonely Rivers and their dude-style ranch. Maybe he could get a job with his hospitality experience. Robbie MacAllister was rumored to not have the best past. He’d be able to sympathize with Johnny.

  No matter what, Johnny wasn’t going to play the I-saved-your-girlfriend’s-sister-you-owe-me-a-job card. He had to be able to
sleep at night.

  He couldn’t help but glance back at the room.

  Honestly, he didn’t know what he expected from Sara Beth, but forgiveness would definitely be welcomed.

  Sara Beth

  Chapter 5

  A steady beep broke into her slumber. Sara Beth squeezed her eyelids tight, before attempting a blink.

  Another blink.

  Stiff bedding held her legs straight and her upper body at a half-sitting angle. She scrunched her nose and duck-faced her lips at the plastic tubes softly blowing cool air into her nostrils.

  Looking past the confines of her bed, she narrowed her eyes at her sleeping sister. She was probably there to chastise Sara Beth. All they did anymore was fight.

  Sara Beth didn’t make a sound, but it was like she’d yelled with how fast Rosie opened her eyes and leaned forward. She scooted her chair closer to Sara Beth’s bed and rested her hand on the side rail. “Hey, how you feelin’?” She spoke quietly, concern drawing her eyebrows inward and down.

  Tongue heavy and dry, Sara Beth shook her head and tried licking her lips.

  “Hold on. I’ll get you some ice chips. The nurse said the pain medication would give you cotton mouth and possibly some nausea. So let me know if you want to throw up.” Personal sized pink pitcher in hand, Rosie stepped out of the room door and returned a minute later. She placed a square ice cube into Sara Beth’s mouth and set the rest of the ice on the bedside table.

  The cool moisture relieved a tightness in her muscles Sara Beth hadn’t realized was there until it left. She sucked on the ice like she’d never tasted water before.

  Rosie didn’t sit. She waited beside the bed, looking down at Sara Beth. Her ponytail hung down over her shoulder, stray strands framing the tired curves under her eyes. Quietly, she started talking. “I need to ask you some questions before the nurse or doctor comes in. Be honest with me and don’t start freaking out. Okay?”

  Sara Beth swallowed, a new lump forming in her throat. Whenever Rosie started a conversation with don’t start freaking out that was Sara Beth’s cue to start freaking out.

  Rosie pulled her chair closer to the bed and sat gingerly on the edge. She clasped her hands in her lap and looked at Sara Beth’s feet and then back at her face. She set her jaw, a tic Sara Beth had learned to watch for – it meant things were about to get real.

  “Very carefully, I want you to try moving your feet – like your toes. Don’t do anything else.” She looked with Sara Beth toward her feet poking up under the blankets.

  “Easy.” Come on, move, dang it. Sara Beth watched her feet as if she could control them with an angry enough glare. Just one toe. Just one. She strained and pushed but it was all in her mind. Her damn feet didn’t budge. She leaned her head back, not looking at Rosie. “What does that mean?” Moisture collected in her eyes.

  Grabbing Sara Beth’s hand in hers, Rosie’s whisper filled the silent room. “I don’t know what it means. I don’t know if it’s permanent, or what. They’re going to come back and try tests on you and do some scans, but they said something about possible inflammation – which could go down? I don’t know enough about it.” She offered a sad smile, her own eyes shiny with unshed tears. She shook her head with little short jerks. “I’m sorry. I know you wanted to ride with Miss Wrangler Montana, but it... I’m sorry.”

  Sara Beth swallowed hard. She looked at her inanimate feet. “You said that already.”

  Rosie snapped her gaze to Sara Beth’s face. “Excuse me?”

  Clearing her throat and moving her tongue to remove the last of the dryness, Sara Beth pinned her sister with an icy stare. “Why don’t you say what you came to say? This is all my fault. I wouldn’t be sitting here as a cripple, if I had just listened to you and Michael. Am I right?” She’d been so close to getting out of there, out from under the watchful eye of Rosie, out from the possibility that more and more of her past would be uncovered by the townspeople.

  Rosie jerked back, releasing Sara Beth’s hand. “Now, wait a minute, that’s not fair. I didn’t do this. I didn’t even mention what happened. Are you blaming me for this? I told you—”

  “Here it comes, I told you so, right?” Sara Beth rolled her eyes, her jaw tight. “Just go, Rosie. I’ll let you know what the tests come back with. I’d hate to put you out any more than I already have.” Go, Rosie, please go. She pleaded internally, fighting the sobs from breaking through.

  Tears rolling down her cheeks, Rosie stood regally from her chair. “Fine. I can only imagine how upset you must be. I’ll come back tomorrow and we can talk about what we’re doing from here. The doctors should know more by then anyway.” She moved as if to hug Sara Beth, hesitated and walked hurriedly to the table by the door.

  “Rosie.” Sara Beth stared up at the ceiling.

  Her sister retrieved her purse and jacket, pausing as if she expected Sara Beth to apologize, hope in her tone. “Yes?”

  “Don’t come back tomorrow.” Sara Beth didn’t look at her sister, but held her breath.

  Rosie’s presence disappeared. She left the door open.

  Each footfall of her sister’s grew fainter and Sara Beth exhaled shakily. She covered her face with both hands and waited for a moment while her body gathered itself. No feeling in her legs. How odd to feel like she just floated above her legs, like there was nothing there.

  But they were there. She could see them. So she couldn’t float away because the lifeless things anchored her more surely to her old life than Sara Beth had thought possible.

  She’d wanted Miss Wrangler Montana for so long – but mostly because if she was accepted into the competition, she’d tour around with the rodeo Circuit while participating in pageants around Montana – state-wide. She’d be away from Rosie and the daily questions. The pressure to pick something to do – like go to college, get a job.

  What was Sara Beth going to do about the sisters? Did Sara Beth still want to do something regarding them?

  That was Sara Beth’s biggest problem staying with Rosie. The daily questions about the five pictures Sara Beth had photocopied and taped to her bathroom mirror, the desktop in her bedroom, the wall beside her bed, stored in a box that she carried most places with her.

  Sara Beth had created a memorial of sorts to the sisters she desperately wanted to meet. All five of them – including Sara Beth and Rosie – stared balefully out of the black and white pictures. Each picture had been taken at various ages and with the grittiness of multiple copies, it was difficult to pinpoint their exact look – but their names had been typed carefully to the side with their statistics. And if Sara Beth ever met one of them, she just knew, deep down, that she would recognize her.

  And Sara Beth had memorized every single one. Rosie. Sara Beth. Lisa. Mary. And Jenny.

  Her sisters from the same terrible man – Devlyn Caracus. Her sisters – and she didn’t care who they came from. She had more than one sister out there.

  Every day with Rosie meant she hadn’t been able to meet her other sisters. Sara Beth had hoped for a chance to tour the state and find out if she could even locate the other three women. Montana state was huge and, yes, Sara Beth was confident she could find them before any government official could.

  How hard could it be?

  But now...

  Not only were her chances at Miss Wrangler Montana shot, but how would she ever be able to search for her other sisters while stuck in a wheelchair or bed?

  Independence moved further and further away, leaving a cold remnant of despair in place of the hope it’d promised.

  She dropped her hands.

  A man stood in the doorway.

  She startled, pulling her sheet to her chest.

  His height was accentuated by the economy-sized room and doorway, as well as the long lean fit to his jeans. A black felt Stetson tapped against his thigh as he waited for her to acknowledge him.

  Sara Beth blinked back the tears she desperately wanted to cry and sniffed. “Can I help you?” Good
night, he was charming with his blond hair and, oh wow, gray eyes. She’d never seen any in person, but his shone like polished steel.

  He was startlingly handsome with an angular jaw and straight nose. A dimple in his chin set off the scruffy stubble he sported which showcased the gold in his hair. His gray eyes focused on her and moved toward the bed, careful to keep an appropriate distance between them. “Hello, Sara Beth. Do you remember me? Or anything that happened?”

  His nearness sent springs spiraling through her insides. She recognized the scratchy timbre, but from where? She inclined her head the smallest amount and studied him, grateful for a reason to look at him longer without seeming creepy. “I don’t know. Happened when?”

  “I’m Johnny Mayfair. We met in the rain last night.” He offered a side grin that revealed clean white teeth set in perfect rows.

  Sara Beth was a sucker for a great smile. Dang. “Johnny Mayfair. Wait, was that you that covered me from the rain? Found me?” Her breath caught. She’d been so safe in his arms. Safe enough she’d fallen asleep – or had passed out – same thing. Especially when he looked like that.

  He gave the barest nod, taking in her blanketed form. “Yeah, that was. I’m glad you remember.” He pointed over his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to pry, but I was sitting in the waiting area out there and I couldn’t help but hear you and your visitor.”

  “Sister. She’s my sister.” Great, one more thing to add to her embarrassment with the hot stranger. Hot with a capital H. “I’m sorry. I don’t normally fight with her.” Sara Beth shook her head. “Okay, that’s a lie. Actually we fight all the time. In fact, I don’t remember us not fighting except for when it was just us living together, you know?”

  A moment of silence and she bit her lip. “Gosh, I’m sorry again. You don’t want to hear that.” She picked at the cuticle on her thumbnail. The close proximity with lights on was more disconcerting than it’d been wrapped in his arms in the dark covered in wet mud.

  He motioned toward the chair Rosie had abandoned. “Actually, I don’t mind. May I?”