An Accidental Hero (15 page)

“And the sooner she can boot you out the door,” he said to himself.

Twin lights up ahead caught his attention. Reid recognized them as the lampposts perched atop flagstone columns flanking River Valley’s entrance. He passed between scalloped wrought-iron gates and coasted down the long asphalt drive ribboning from the highway to the ranch house. Though he’d seen it half a dozen times, it was hard not to be awestruck by the enormous structure. It seemed oddly out of character for a man like Lamont—hard, intimidating, and stern—to design and build a place so welcoming, right down to the many-paned windows that glowed with warm amber light. So out of sync, in fact, that Reid wondered how involved Rose had been in creating the architectural plan.

Reid didn’t turn onto the wide wooden bridge that would lead him to the semicircular drive, but followed the gravel cutoff instead, and parked the pickup beside the massive red barn, just as Cammi had asked him to do. Not even the thick cloak of darkness could hide its perfection. Lamont didn’t do anything halfway, as evidenced by the perfectly plumb doors to the crisp-edged white trim.

Leaving Billy’s keys in the ignition, he eased the driver’s door shut and headed toward the outbuilding. He half expected Cammi to be outside, waiting for him, but breathed a sigh of relief that she wasn’t; she needed her rest if she hoped to recuperate quickly.

Reid knocked softly on the door, then pulled it open.
“Pssst,”
he whispered, “Cammi…”

“Nobody in here but us chickens.”

He didn’t recognize the voice, but remembered Cammi saying that her sister spent more time in the barn than in the house. As he tried to recall her name, a younger, smaller version of Cammi leaned out from behind a stall door. “Can I help you?”

“You must be Lily,” he said, smiling as he walked toward her.

Grinning as if she’d just run into an old chum, she met him halfway. “And you must be Reid,” she said, extending a hand.

Like Cammi, Lily had a firm, no-nonsense grasp.

“If you’re looking for my big sister, she isn’t here.”

Puzzled, he said, “She told me to meet her here in half an hour.”

Lily’s brow furrowed. “How long ago was that?”

He glanced at his wristwatch. “Little over half an hour ago.”

Her frown deepened. “Isn’t like her not to follow through. Not like her to be late, either.” Suddenly, she bolted to the door.

Her fear was contagious; since Reid had longer, stronger legs, he passed her without even trying.

“She would’ve followed that path,” Lily called from behind. “The one just to your left, there.”

Silhouetted by the back porch light, Cammi lay curled on her side next to the walk. “Cammi…” he said, getting down on one knee. Cradling her close, he stroked her hair. “Aw, Cammi, what have you gone and done to yourself this time?”

She lifted a hand to her forehead, wincing when she smoothed back the bangs. “Clumsy me,” she
said, a half smile on her face. “Caught my toe on a tree root.”

Lily ran up and knelt beside them. “What happened, Cammi? Are you crazy? What’re you doing out here? You’re supposed to be resting.” She cringed at the sight of the bruised lump on her sister’s forehead. “Oh, would you look at
that!
” She met Reid’s eyes. “You think it’s a concussion?” Focusing on Cammi, she added, “You okay? Should we call 911?”

Cammi’s giggles started slow and quiet, escalating to a hearty laugh. “Easy, kiddo,” she said, breathless, “I’m fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me, that’s all.”

“Let’s get you into the house,” Reid said, picking her up.

Cammi slipped her arms around his neck, rested a cheek on his shoulder. “I can make it under my own steam, you know.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Yeah, I’m sure you can. But humor me, will ya?” He walked a few steps before saying, “You gave us quite a scare.”

“Sorry.”

Lily walked backward in front of them. “How long do you think she was out?”

“Hard to tell.” He pressed his cheek to Cammi’s. “She doesn’t feel cold, so at least shock hasn’t set in.”

“Still, maybe we should—”

“Hello-o,” Cammi teased, waving one hand. “I’m right
here.
”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Lily protested, tapping her temple. “If you were all
here,
you wouldn’t
be outside. Not in your condition. Especially not without telling anyone where you were going.”

“I left Dad a note in case he woke up and came downstairs for a bedtime snack.”

“Fat lot of good that would have done if…” Lily rolled her eyes. “You should’ve called the barn. Why do you think Dad had a phone installed down there?”

Reid didn’t like this turn of events, and decided Cammi didn’t need any more upset. “It’s mostly my fault she’s out here. I should have insisted on meeting her at the house.” He clamped his teeth together. “Better still, should’ve waited till she was better.”

Cammi laid a finger over his lips, effectively silencing him. As he carried her up the back porch steps, Lily dashed around him and held the door open.

“You get her settled in the den,” she suggested, “and I’ll get an ice pack for that nasty bump on her head.” And when all three stepped inside, Lily closed the door. “I think we should call someone.”

Cammi groaned. “Who?”

“If not 911, then Doc Albert, at least.”

“No,” Cammi said.

“We should drive you to the hospital, then.” Lily ran alongside Reid as he carried Cammi down the hall.

“No need for that,” Cammi insisted. “I’m fine.”

Lily tagged Reid’s heels into the den. “But you could have a concussion!”

“Lily,” Cammi said, as Reid gently deposited her on the sofa, “I love you for caring, but I’m okay. Honest. Now relax, will you?”

Reid grabbed an afghan from the back of the couch,
shook it out and draped it over Cammi’s legs. “She’s right, Lily. Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

Cammi said, “Lily, doesn’t Elmer need a feeding?”

Reid laughed. “Elmer? Who’s Elmer?”

Cammi cupped a hand beside her mouth and whispered, “She’s playing mama cow to an orphaned calf.”

“Hello-o,” Lily mimicked Cammi. “I’m right
here.
”

“Elmer’s the calf?” he asked.

Pocketing her hands, Lily nodded.

“Go on and feed him, then. I’ll stay with Cammi.”

“But…but what—”

“I’ve seen a couple hundred concussions in my day, thanks to the rodeo. I know the signs. First hint of anything more serious than a headache, I’ll drive her to the hospital. You’ve got my word on it.”

She mulled that over a bit. “Dad’s gonna have a fit if he comes downstairs and finds you here again.”

Despite their recent meeting at the diner, the idea of facing Lamont on his own turf unsettled Reid more than he cared to admit. He pictured the man’s blazing gray eyes, the firm set of his chin. “I can handle him.”

Lily said to Cammi. “Your boyfriend here has a great sense of humor. He thinks ’cause he rode Brahman bulls and wild stallions, he can handle Dad.” She punctuated her statement with a merry giggle.

Cammi’s eyes widened and her cheeks turned bright pink. “Lily, what a thing to say.” She clucked
her tongue. “Reid isn’t my— He’s not my
boyfriend.
”

“Whatever you say.” She giggled again. “I’ll be right back with that ice,” Lily added, disappearing around the corner.

Boyfriend,
Reid thought, harrumphing under his breath. He’d never much cared for the term, so why had Cammi’s remark stung like a cold slap?

He barely had time to form the question before Lily was back, towel-wrapped ice pack in hand. “If you need me,” Lily said, handing it to Reid, “just pick up the phone and dial 55 to ring the barn.”

She didn’t wait for him to agree, and he didn’t wait for her to leave before tenderly holding the cold pack against Cammi’s bruised forehead. “Where do you keep the aspirins in this mausoleum?” he asked, grinning.

She held the ice pack in place with one hand, pointed toward the hall with the other. “Powder room, third door on your right.”

He got to his feet. “Drinking glasses?”

“Kitchen, cupboard above the dishwasher.”

From the hall, he said, “Any suggestions, in case I run into your dad on the way?”

Squinting one eye, she focused on the ceiling for an instant. “Run like crazy?”

Reid laughed. “You believe in the power of prayer.” Thumb aiming heavenward, he said, “Have a word or two with The Big Guy for me, will ya?”

He couldn’t help but notice how her eyes darkened and her smile dimmed. Made no sense, considering the state of his own soul, but it bothered Reid that
she seemed to have lost faith in God. He made a mental note to talk with her about it…later.

She’d dozed off by the time he got back with aspirins and cool water to wash them down with. “Cammi,” he said quietly, nudging her shoulder.

Her long-lashed eyes fluttered open, then zeroed in on him. “Hi,” she said, her voice soft and sleep-husky. Levering herself up on one elbow, she held out a hand so he could give her the aspirin.

One by one, she swallowed them, then drained the glass of water. “Thanks,” she said, lying back on the pillow. A slow, half smile brightened her face. “Once again, it’s Reid Alexander to my rescue.”

He adjusted the ice pack, then tidied her covers. When she’d called him her hero at the hospital, he’d shrugged it off. She’d only been kidding, he told himself; no point taking it seriously. He couldn’t pretend she was teasing now. Not while she looked at him as if he’d hung the moon.

“You’re gonna have a big ol’ goose egg this time tomorrow,” he said to change the subject. He couldn’t afford to get too used to the idea that she thought of him that way, because as soon as he’d told his story, chances were better than fifty-fifty that she’d change her mind.

“So what’s on your mind? You said you wanted to come over here to tell me something.”

As if he needed the reminder!

“And that you wanted to ask me something.”

Nodding, Reid shoved aside a stack of hardcover books and sat beside her on the couch. Clasping his hands together, he faced her, prepared to tell her ev
erything. And God willing, this time he wouldn’t be interrupted.

“The night we met,” he began, “I kept asking myself why you looked so familiar. Wasn’t until I heard your dad say his name when I called him from the hospital that I knew the answer.”

She turned onto her side, crooked an arm under her pillow to raise her head slightly. No question about it, Reid told himself, he had her full attention.

He slid the battered leather wallet from his back pocket and removed the laminated obituary he’d carried for more than thirteen years.

“What is it?” she asked when he handed it to her.

“See for yourself.”

Cammi sat up a little, adjusted the light so she could read it. He watched as she bit her lip, as her gorgeous eyes filled with unshed tears, heard her sharp intake of air when she got to the part that said,
“Rose London is survived by her husband of fourteen years and four young daughters.”

Her hand was shaking when she gave it back to him. “Why do you carry that with you?”

Should he tell her that, when awards and fawning women and the admiration of his rodeo pals threatened to turn him cocky, he’d take out the article and make himself read it—a reminder of just how ordinary and rife with human frailties he truly was? What better way to answer her truthfully? And so he spelled it out, leaving out just one detail.

She sat up and planted both sneakered feet on the floor. Hands folded primly in her lap, she met his eyes. “Why are you telling
me
these things?”

He took a deep breath, held it a second, then re
leased it slowly. There was no easy way to say it, so Reid simply said it.

“Said in the obit that your mama died in a car accident, and…”

She licked her lips, eyes wider than ever.

“…and it was me behind the wheel of that other car.”

Cammi looked away, focused on something on the floor, then stared up at the ceiling. “I know.”

She’d whispered it, so maybe he’d heard her wrong. Reid leaned forward, heart pounding. “You
know?
”

Then, boring into his eyes with hers, she sighed, “Yes. I’ve known for quite a while.”

He hung his head, slapped a palm to the back of his neck. “How long have you known?”

“I figured it out not long after we met. And then, Dad added more details after you left the other night.”

Reid stared at her empty water glass, wishing she’d left one swallow in the bottom of it, because he didn’t remember his throat ever feeling so dry, not even after hours of driving cattle over dusty fields. What did she intend to do, keep him waiting all night for her reaction? Why didn’t she just point at the door, tell him to get out and be done with it already!

“I also know that it wasn’t your fault.”

Why did he feel there was a
but
at the end of that sentence? Dread closed in around him like thick, choking smoke, forcing him to hold his breath. If he’d been a praying man, he’d have asked the Almighty to intercede on his behalf, change her mind, open her heart.

But if he’d been a betting man, he’d have wagered there’d be no help from heaven for the likes of him….

So Reid did the only thing he could do, and told the truth. “Just don’t hate me, Cammi,” he said, hoping she hadn’t heard the remorse and self-loathing in his voice, the guilt he’d bottled up for years. Though common sense and evidence said he had nothing to feel guilty about.

She bent forward enough to softly lay a hand on his forearm. “How could I ever hate you?”

Good question, he thought. So why did he get the feeling an answer hovered, right behind it?

Whatever made him think he had so much as half a chance with Cammi!

With other women, he hadn’t given a thought to marriage. He’d watched his mother hop from man to man, each a worse life mate than the last (though she claimed every time that
“This one is my Mr. Right, Reid, honey!”
). Well, “Reid honey” had no intention of repeating her mistakes. He’d made a point of shootin’ straight with his girlfriends, never promising what he couldn’t deliver. When they demanded to know why he refused to make a long-term commitment, he blamed the hectic rodeo schedule, the danger of his profession…and wished them well without telling any of them the truth: If he and some li’l gal had a couple of kids together, and she wasn’t the
right
li’l gal for him…
No young’un of
mine
is gonna live the way I did!
he had vowed.