Searching For Love (Contemporary Cowboy Romance) (Carson Hill Ranch series: Book 2) (3 page)

Unfortunately, no one told her horse that Amy had decided to become a new woman who wasn’t taking crap from people anymore. The animal was just as stubborn as before, even though she tried to speak to him soothingly while still being firm. It was almost as if the animal could smell and respond to Amy’s nervousness, as though being unsure of herself around the oversized creature was a tangible scent.

After taking a deep breath, she hoisted her booted foot up into the stirrup to lift herself into the saddle, only every time she started to put her weight on that leg, the horse would take one step forward. Amy would drop her weight back down on her standing leg in defeat, her boot still in her stirrup, and the horse would hold still once again.

But as soon as she took her weight off the ground and tried pulling herself up into the saddle, the stupid thing would walk again, moving forward and out from under Amy’s much-needed leverage. She spoke to the horse calmly and reassuringly but every time she inched off the ground, the dumb beast would take a step.

I went to college, you stupid horse! You’re not outsmarting me,
she thought angrily, seething to herself in frustration. Moving hopefully too fast for the horse to notice, Amy took a leap as she pulled herself up, aiming herself forward this time so she would move with the horse. Feeling the shift in her weight, the animal stepped backward instead, throwing Amy off balance. When she tried putting her foot back on the ground, the level surface wasn’t where she thought it should be, causing her to lose her footing. In its confusion, the horse took off running, dragging Amy along by the foot that was still trapped and twisted within the stirrup.

“No! STOP!” Amy screamed, scrambling to reach for something to pull herself up but resorting, instead, to putting her arms over her face and head to protect them from the horse’s stomping hooves. The hard ground scratched painfully through the thin fabric of her shirt, and each rock seemed to embed itself deep in her muscles as she continued to be pulled along. “Someone, help!”

Carey heard Amy’s unmistakable voice as she called out in pain, and seeing her horse dragging her toward the herd, his heart nearly stopped. A stampeding horse in the middle of thousands of several-ton cows would get her killed for sure. He steered his horse in her direction and slapped at its neck with the hanging end of his leather reins, urging it on. Coming at her horse from the side, he let go of the reins and leaned toward it, grabbing hold of her reins and simultaneously catching one of her hands as he leaned dangerously close to the ground from where he sat in the saddle.

He sat upright and pulled Amy with him, throwing her in front of him on the saddle. The horses began to slow under Carey’s
levelheaded direction and, together, they worked her foot out of its snare. Amy’s horse began to mosey off as though the beast hadn’t just nearly killed its would-be rider, while Carey’s horse waited patiently for further instructions from its rider.

Carey held Amy in front of him tenderly, afraid to touch her back for fear that anything was torn or broken. She gave way to shaking now that she was safe and could process what happened. She looked up at Carey, willing herself not to cry, to be strong. He watched her face silently, struggling to process what exactly he had felt as he saw her pulled away. Was it fear for her? Of course, just like he would have felt for any member of the group being dragged into harm’s way. But it was something else, too, a feeling that he hadn’t done enough to protect her, that he was responsible for keeping her safe.

Of course I’m responsible for her
, he tried to chastise himself.
I’m a member of this ranch and she’s a paying customer.
But he knew that wasn’t all that was behind it. It was more like he wanted to protect her…from everything.

“Are you okay?” he asked tentatively, watching her face for her reaction. She nodded quietly, too afraid to speak for fear that the floodgates would open and she would dissolve in an embarrassing flood of snotty tears. Other ranch hands and members of Amy’s group began to approach to check on her, but he waved them away behind her back to keep as few people as possible from watching her, in case she suddenly lost control.

“I think so,” she whimpered when she finally found her voice, taking deep breaths and fighting through the pain in her ribcage.

“Does anything feel broken?” he asked, not sure how she would know that yet as she seemed to be in some state of shock.

Amy forced herself to take an exaggerated breath to test out her ribs, wincing as the skin stretched slowly along her ribs. She let out the tiniest cry as she inflated her lungs to capacity, but shook her head when Carey looked alarmed. “I think I’m just really scraped up. I don’t think anything’s broken,” she answered, her voice shaking now that the possibility of what could have happened finally dawned on her.

Carey held her close to him, watching her carefully. He urged his horse forward in a slow walk heading toward the RV so Amy could be checked out, but didn’t want her to be frightened by the sideways position in which she rode. She let her
headrest against Carey’s shoulder and closed her eyes, too nervous to watch after being dragged. Her heartbeat slowly began to come back down to something close to normal, no thanks to being held in Carey’s arms.

When they approached the RV, Carey called out to his horse to stop before swinging one leg over and jumping to the ground, pulling Amy with him in his arms as though he did this every day. She embarrassed herself by grabbing frantically at the fabric of Carey’s sleeves as they started down, and was slightly more embarrassed when she realized that Carey wasn’t going to put her on the ground. Instead, he smiled at her reassuringly and knocked on the door of the trailer with the toe of his boot, then waited patiently for someone to open it, holding her the entire time.

“You don’t have to do that, I think I can walk,” she said quietly, more upset from the fear than from her injuries. As much as she had thought about Carey holding her so close to him, this wasn’t how she’d wanted it to happen.

“And miss a chance to hold a pretty girl? Never,” Carey answered kindly, hoping his humor would calm her nerves or distract her from what had just happened. “The last time I had to haul someone off who’d been dragged half to death, it was a big, smelly, hairy guy. He was no picnic, let me tell you. I’m not missing this for the world! In fact, I might just hold you the whole time the medic checks you over!” His perfect smile was disarming, letting Amy forget for a second—maybe just a millisecond—about the pain and the fear.

Bernard opened the door to the trailer and looked amused at the sight of his son holding a beautiful woman in his arms, almost as though he was about to cross the threshold with her, but his expression quickly changed when he saw the look of hurt and distress on her face. “What happened? Are you all right?”

Amy nodded tearfully, but Carey was quick to explain. He walked through the narrow trailer door, telling his father to radio for their medic to join them. He carefully sat Amy on the bench seat inside, then stepped into the bedroom at the rear of the camper and came back out with one of his father’s clean undershirts. Using the knife from his belt, Carey cut a series of slits in the shirt while Bernard stared on, wondering what was happening to his laundry.

When Carey had finished, he held it out and came over to Amy. “Here, we’ll tie this around behind your neck, and tie this part here down around your waist.” He got to work on the makeshift straps he’d made, lifting her hair and tying it carefully so as not to pull any of her curls. When he finished, he stepped back and surveyed what looked a lot like an oversized bib, leaving Amy and Bernard speechless.

“Son, what’d you just do to my shirt?” Bernard demanded, making Amy laugh a little bit until she caught herself, holding her sides painfully.

“Um, well, it’s because she’s gonna have to take her shirt off, Dad,” Carey answered pointedly, not wanting to embarrass Amy. “I’m sure she doesn’t want to sit here half-dressed with Jerry coming in here to check on her.”

As she recognized what Carey had done, Amy relaxed a little and thanked him. “That was really thoughtful, thanks. And thank you for donating your shirt, sir, even if you didn’t know you were going to!”

Bernard laughed at her remark, patting Carey on the back. “It’s all right, ma’am,” Bernard replied, tipping his hat to her briefly. “I’m happy to give up a shirt if it keeps you comfortable. Now, let me go see what’s keeping Jerry from checking on you.”

After the door closed behind Bernard, Amy looked up at Carey and said, “No, really. I meant it. Thanks, that was incredibly thoughtful of you. Most guys wouldn’t have thought of that.”

“Well, it’s not like your shirt was going to survive anyway, not with all the tears in the back, but I know Jerry, and he’s probably gonna start hacking it apart at the seams the second he walks through that door. We’ve had enough cowboys thrown from horses for me to know that he doesn’t like to move anyone’s shoulders without having to. It comes with the job. We have someone snap a collarbone about once a week on the ranch, and Jerry just starts slicing so he doesn’t have to move ‘em too much.”

Just as he’d predicted, the trailer door opened and a new face walked in, a
kindly looking man who looked like he’d seen plenty of sunshine and fresh air over the years. His whole face crinkled when he smiled at Amy, and Jerry crossed the small camper in two steps to kneel down in front of her.

“So, you thought you’d try trick riding for the circus, from what I hear. I think you’d be safer doing the trapeze act, personally!” he joked with her, lifting the collar of her shirt to peer down the back. He started pressing on various places to gauge Amy’s pain level before having her shrug her shoulders and rotate her joints.

“I’m going to guess that nothing’s broken at this point, but it’s entirely up to you whether or not we need to take a drive into the nearest town and have this x-rayed. I have to tell you that there could be some breaks and I can’t prescribe anything, so all I have to offer you is nothing stronger than over-the-counter stuff for the hurt. It’ll have to be your call,” he cautioned her.

“I really don’t think anything’s broken,” she answered. “It hurts a lot, but all of the bones feel okay.” She tried to prove her point by moving her arms and neck, wincing as she pulled the muscles across her shoulder blades.

“Well, let’s take a look at how torn up you got, and we’ll go from there.” Jerry produced a curved pair of sheers from the pocket of his cargo pants and got to work cutting away the fabric of her shirt. Carey turned around to give her some privacy, only facing her again when Jerry said he was done. He turned back just as Amy was tucking the fabric of Bernard’s shirt into place. “Well, honey, did you try to slide past every cactus in the state? You look like you were going for some kind of pin cushion record!”

Amy blanched at the thought of cactus needles sticking out of her back, knowing that what goes in had to come out eventually. Carey looked over her shoulder to peek down her back, coming back up to look at her with an awful expression. “Um, Amy, I’m not sure you still have skin back there,” he said, cringing.

“What?! Are you kidding me? It can’t be that bad, it only hurts when I move it,” she argued, alternating between the two cowboys with a shocked look.

“I’m only teasing, we both are,” Carey finally revealed. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s bad, I mean, really, really ugly bad but then again, it’s not that bad. You just have a few really red scrapes and a couple of places where the skin is broken up. Now don’t go getting heroic, it’s gonna really hurt down in the muscles, probably more tomorrow than today. You’re gonna have to take it easy.”

“Oh, goody, I’ve been looking for an excuse to kick back and do nothing on this trip,” Amy said sarcastically, rolling her eyes at Carey to cover up the very pronounced stinging already spreading out across her back. “I didn’t come all this way to lay around like a pampered pet. I’ll be fine. Let’s just put some ointment on it so it won’t get infected, and I’ll be good to go.”

Carey came and knelt in front of her. “Amy, you don’t have to be brave. You were dragged by a horse, for crying out loud! Take it easy for the next day or so. I tell you what, I’ll take a turn driving the truck tomorrow, and you can help me navigate, okay? Just take one day away from the horse that tried to maim you? For me?”

There’s a long list of things I’d do for you,
Amy thought before she could help herself, pulled into the trance of his deep eyes and adding before she could stop herself,
and to you.
Amy didn’t trust herself to respond, not with thoughts like that one running through her mind uncontrollably, so she simply sighed and gave Carey a look defeated resignation.

“Great!” he called as he stood and walked toward the low door. “I’m gonna see if one of the others in the group can’t help me find you another shirt. How about I find you again at
dinnertime? You just relax in here and let Jerry fix you up, okay?” And just like that, he was gone, leaving Amy to stare longingly at the door to the trailer and wonder how in the world she’d just ended up with a date on a cattle drive.

Carey closed the door to the RV behind him and leaned against the metal exterior, shocked at how those words had come out of nowhere. What was he doing asking one of the guests to have dinner with him? This was possibly the dumbest thing he could have done on the drive. Did he expect her to write to him once the two weeks was over? He tried to envision just waving goodbye as the group got back on the bus to the airport then going about his business at the ranch like nothing had happened, but even he knew that wasn’t going to work out.