* * *
There was no path to the barn where the panels for temporary stalls were stored, and that barn was almost two miles away. The trip that should have taken five minutes even over rough pasture took half an hour. They had to drive through a foot of snow that was lying on top of a couple of inches of ice.
“I will be so glad to see bare ground again,” Jesse said when they finally reached the barn.
“You are preaching to the choir,” Cody told him. “I may never even listen to that song about dreaming of a white Christmas again.”
“I hear you, brother.” Jesse backed the truck up close to the barn. “Let’s get this stuff loaded. Mia can help us put up the pens tomorrow after we do chores. Stevie has come up with a good idea here. Who would have ever thought we’d have to do this in our part of Texas?”
“That’s the truth.” Cody got out of the truck, sunk down to the top of his boots in snow, and growled.
Cody slipped his phone from his hip pocket. “I’m going to check on Stevie and get her opinion on the cows.”
“Kind of nice having a vet on the property.” Jesse picked up a panel and carried it to the truck.
“Huh, her phone is going straight to voice mail,” Cody answered.
“Probably lost service if she’s at the back side of the forty,” Jesse said. Y’all ever get around to having that talk? Seems like she’s not as prickly as she was when I rescued you.”
“We decided that we might be friends,” Cody said and then frowned. “We’ve never had service problems anywhere in the pasture. I called Mia yesterday to ask her to look up a cow’s number for us and had no trouble getting through, remember?”
“Maybe Stevie’s having second thoughts about the idea of friendship and she’s flown the coop,” Jesse chuckled. “Hey, Mia told us at the breakfast table this morning that she’s going to invite Beau Martin to Sunday dinner when we dig out from under all this mess. Seems she’s been talking and texting him for a few weeks, and they even went on a couple of drives through the country together.”
Cody had heard that name, but he couldn’t put a face with it. Was it someone he had treated in the last six months? No, but Martin rang a bell. A visual of a little lady with gray in her hair came to his mind, and then he remembered Vernon Martin’s wife.
“Libby Martin of the Bois D’Arc Ranch?” he questioned.
“That would be his grandmother. Vernon is his grandpa. He works at the feed store part-time and helps Vernon run the ranch since Libby passed away. Seems like a good kid,” Jesse answered.
“I met him just before Libby died,” Cody said as he helped load up the panels. “His grandparents seem like good people.”
“And that boy likes ranching?” Cody asked.
“I guess he does, or he wouldn’t be down here helping Vernon and working two days a week at the feed store, plus taking online agribusiness courses,” Jesse answered.
“I bet Vernon is happy that he’s finally got a family member interested in ranching,” Cody said.
“I would be if I was in his boots.” Jesse said as they put one last panel on the truck. “I’m so glad that Mia loves this lifestyle and hope the twins grow up to love it as much as she does. That’s a load. I reckon we should get on back and get them unloaded. We’ll have just enough time before supper to come back for the gates. We could even leave them on the truck if it’s going to cause us to be late.”
Cody tried to call Stevie again, but it went to voice mail. He left a message and shoved the phone back in his pocket. “I wonder if she’s got a cow down and is pulling a calf. Maybe I should drive out there and see if she needs help.”
“Maybe you should let well enough alone,” Jesse suggested. “She’s been cooped up with you for days. She might need some time to herself. Addy gets like that every so often, like now, and believe me, when she does, I take a step back and give her some space. I’ll be glad when you two can get back to seeing patients again. She enjoys that.”
“Me too,” Cody said.
When they had reached the barn and unloaded the panels, Cody tried again to reach Stevie, but got nothing. “She might want time alone, but I’m driving out that way to see about her. If she wants time alone, she’s just honest and blunt enough to tell me. Stevie speaks her mind—loud and clear. I’ll go get the gates tomorrow morning while you and Mia build the stalls.”
Jesse gave a quick nod and tossed the pickup keys across to him. “I’m headed to the house then. Call me if you need another set of hands.”
Cody had a gut feeling that something was wrong—and Cody’s gut had never lied to him. He drove the old truck down the grooves the four-wheeler had cut in the snow. Deep boot prints told him that Stevie had gotten off the vehicle to open the gate into the pasture. She had driven through, then more prints said that she had gone back to close it again. Cody did the same thing, and then he was driving on slick grass instead of in deep snow. Mia had done a good job of plowing the pasture so that none of the cattle had to wade in it halfway to their bellies.
He drove slowly, keeping an eye on the tire prints ahead of him. When he turned the corner at the back edge of the field, he noticed the donkey with his head up and ears back, braying at a couple of coyotes out there beyond the fence line. There was a whole pack of them, most likely lying in wait for a cow to drop a calf, and then they would swoop in for the kill.
“Good boy,” Cody said, “keep them away from the herd, and especially any baby calves.”
He’d barely gotten the words out of his mouth when he noticed the four-wheeler nose down in a hole. He hit the gas pedal a little too hard and fishtailed all over the pasture for a few seconds before he got control. When he came to a stop, the pickup’s bumper was just inches from the rear end of the four-wheeler. He grabbed his phone from his pocket, slung open the truck door, and called Stevie. Surely she was on her way back to the ranch house or was already there.
Cody could hear the phone ringing in the distance, and he started to run that way. He slipped and fell flat on his butt, and that’s when he saw Stevie, lying next to an old scrub oak tree. He crawled over to her and laid a finger on her neck. Her lips were blue, and she had a nasty gash on her forehead, but she had a pulse. As a doctor, he knew he should put a neck brace on her and use a board to move her, but he had neither one and he had to get her to the house. He took time to check her pupils and they were only slightly enlarged. He ran his fingers down the bones in her neck and back. He couldn’t feel anything broken, which were all good signs.
“Hang on, love,” he said, hoping that would make her open her eyes, but it didn’t.
He gently laid her on the bench seat and cradled her head in his lap all the way back to the bunkhouse, where his supplies and doctor bag were. “Wake up, Stevie. Please, wake up,” he begged as he moved her head to the seat so he could get out and open the gate.
When he finally reached the bunkhouse, he called Addy, told her in a few words what had happened, and then carried Stevie inside. He laid her on the sofa, checked her to be sure no bones were broken and that the only blood was coming from the gash on her forehead. Then Addy was there, running her fingers over Stevie’s scalp checking for knots or soft spots.
“Here it is,” Cody said when he had wiped all the blood away. “See this indentation. This could possibly be a concussion. We need to get her to a hospital for tests,” he said as he applied butterfly bandages to hold the wound together.
“Not possible. We’ll have to do the best we can right here,” Addy said. “Her lips are getting color back in them, and she’s breathing normal, so I don’t think she has punctured either of her lungs. We’ll have to wait for her to wake up to make sure she can walk and there’s no damage to her back.”
“I should have gone out there the minute she didn’t pick up when I called,” Cody said.
Addy laid a hand on his shoulder. “You can’t blame yourself for this. Let’s get these wet clothes off her and wrap her up in warm blankets. I’m gla
d she had gloves on her hands. As cold as it’s been, they probably protected her from frostbite.” She talked as she removed Stevie’s boots, socks, jeans, coat, and everything else, down to her bra and underpants.
Cody brought a stack of blankets from the end of one of the bunk beds and began to cover Stevie with them, when her eyes finally fluttered open. “Where am I?” she muttered.
“You had a wreck,” Addy said.
“No, I didn’t”—she shivered—“I made it to the barn on flat tires, and Cody was there with a fire already going.”
“You are at the bunkhouse on Sunflower Ranch,” Addy explained. “You were checking the cattle when the four-wheeler must have thrown you.”
Her eyes darted around the room. “I’m so cold.”
Cody shook out two more blankets and piled them on top of her. “I’m Dr. Cody Ryan. I’m going to check your eyes.” He leaned in close to her face. “You hit your head on something when you wrecked the four-wheeler.”
Stevie closed her eyes, and then opened them wide. “I’m so sorry. I’ll pay for the damages. How did I get here? The last thing I remember was landing on my back with the wind knocked out of me and then I kind of woke up and saw a donkey.”
“I hope it’s just a concussion,” Addy whispered, “and not a brain bleed. Did you notice if she had hit a rock?”
“I remember flying through the air, and hitting the low limb of a tree,” Stevie said. “Then the fall must’ve knocked the wind out of me. I couldn’t breathe and everything went black.” Stevie sat up and pulled the top blanket up to her chin when she realized that she was only wearing her underwear. “How did I get from the pasture to here?”
“Now, she’s coming around,” Addy smiled.
“I think I hit a pothole,” she said with a frown. “There were coyotes, and I thought they were coming to eat me.”
“Your memory is coming back,” Addy said. “Do you feel dizzy or nauseated? Your pupils are slightly dilated, so I believe you have a concussion. Hopefully, only a mild one, but all the signs point to one.”
“I’m not nauseated. I do feel a little dizzy,” Stevie admitted. She reached up and laid a hand on her forehead. “My head hurts. Are these stitches I’m feeling?”
“No, that’s just strips holding the wound together. It’s not deep, but head wounds bleed a lot. The donkey out there in the pasture kept the coyotes away from you,” Cody explained. “Can you see me? Is anything fuzzy?”
“I’m fine,” Stevie said. “My brain got a little scrambled. The wind got knocked out of me, and I was so cold. I’m warming up, so I’m good.”
“I’m going to call the folks and let them know she’s going to be all right.” Addy slipped her phone out of her pocket. “Then I’m going back to the house. If you need me in the night, just holler.”
“Thanks, Addy,” Cody said. “I’ve got it under control now.”
Stevie frowned and then flinched. “Wake me every hour. Tell you if I’m nauseated. This isn’t my first concussion. I know the drill.”
“You gave us a scare, love,” Cody said.
“I told you not to call me that,” Stevie scolded.
“I think we’ll be fine,” Cody said with a wink at Addy, “but I wouldn’t turn down some of that chili Jesse told me you were making.”
“Or some of that chocolate pie Mia told me about this morning.” Stevie stretched back out on the sofa. “It feels so good to be warm. Do you think chocolate pie will cure a concussion?”
“Of course it will,” Addy chuckled as she left.
“Why didn’t you call some of us?” Cody tucked the blankets back around Stevie’s shoulders.
“I don’t know,” she answered. “It was all surreal, and then it was cold and dark.”
“When did you have a concussion before?” Cody asked as he stood up. “Talk to me while I make you something hot to drink. Do you want tea, coffee, or…”
“Hot chocolate please.” Stevie shivered so hard that the blankets shifted. “I’ve had two concussions. One when I was in college during spring break. The one and only time I tried to use a skateboard, and tequila was involved. The second was about five years ago when a nasty-tempered cow kicked me. I never passed out on either of those times, but I did have a headache for a couple of days. If the four-wheeler is wrecked, how did I get from there to here?” She sat up and then stood to her feet and wrapped a blanket around her like a sarong.
“You need to stay on the sofa,” Cody told her.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” she said, “and then I’m going to put on flannel pajamas and some socks.”
“Are you dizzy?” Cody rushed across the room to support her with an arm around her shoulders.
“Just a little, but I’ll be fine.” She leaned against him.
“You have to be truthful with me, Stevie,” Cody told her.
“The room took a couple of spins when I first stood up, but it’s all better now.” She shrugged off his arm and stepped inside the bathroom. “I can do this without you.”
Cody closed the door. “All right then, but I’ll be sitting on the edge of the bed so I can hear you if you call me.”
* * *
That she didn’t wet herself when she landed on her back was a mystery to Stevie. The last time she’d gone to the bathroom had been hours before the accident, and her bladder felt like she’d drank three pitchers of beer all by herself. She dropped the blanket on the floor and took care of business, then she checked her reflection in the mirror above the sink as she washed her hands.
Her hair was a mess. There was still a little smear of blood on her cheek. Three strips held the head wound together. There could be a scar to go with the freckles. She soaked a washcloth in warm water and wiped away the blood and a smudge of dirt on her jawline, and then noticed the bruises. One on her upper right arm, and one on her left hip.
“I’m lucky I’m alive,” she muttered.
“What did you say?” Cody called out.
“I said that you can go now. I’m going to get dressed,” she yelled through the closed door.
“I’ve seen you in your underwear, Stevie. I’m staying right here,” he said, “your pajamas are still on the end of the bed, where you left them. I’ll help you get into them.”
She threw the door open and glared at him. “I’m perfectly able to dress myself.”
“I’m your doctor right now, and I’ll make that decision.” He met her glare without blinking. “I’m not leaving until you are wearing those pajamas, and your hot chocolate is getting cold. Your choice, love.”
“Oh, all right,” she said, “but only because I’m ready for a cup of something warm.”
“Sit down right here.” He patted the bed.
She took a couple of long steps and sat down. “Guess maybe I do have a concussion,” she muttered.
Cody helped her into the flannel shirt and then buttoned it for her. Every time his fingertips touched her bare skin, she was reminded again of the feelings she’d had when she was younger.
Maybe it wasn’t just an infatuation, the aggravating voice in her head said. Ever think that those feelings could have been real?
Cody kneeled in front of her and slipped each foot into the pajama pants and then said, “Stand up slowly.”
The edges of his palms brushed against her legs as he pulled the pants up to her waist. This is not a teenage crush, she thought.
“Now lean on me, and we’ll go back to the sofa,” Cody said. “When you’re settled, I’ll put your socks on your feet.”
“Thank you.” Stevie stood up and the room did a couple of spins before it finally settled. “How can I be so lucid and yet dizzy?”
“Concussions seem to have a mind of their own,” Cody said as he slipped his arm around her waist and helped her back to the sofa. Her body had warmed up, but his hand still felt hot enough to leave a print on her back. No, sir, the way her heart threw in that extra beat and her pulse raced told Stevie that what she was feeling h
ad nothing to do with the concussion.
Chapter Eleven
Sometimes you don’t know what you’ve got until you lose it. That was just one example of Pearl’s words of wisdom that came to Cody’s mind as he helped settle Stevie on the sofa.
“I’m sorry to be such a bother,” Stevie said. “I hate having to depend on anyone for anything.”
“You’re not a bother.” Cody shook his head. “I should have come looking for you the first time you didn’t answer your phone. I understand about not liking to be dependent, but sometimes you’ve got to let your friends help you.”
“What are you talking about?” Stevie frowned. “I’m glad you came to find me. It would have been a long walk back when I came to, and who knows, as cold as I was, I could have frozen to death.”
“It’s just that you…” he started. “Do I smother you?” he asked.
“No. What brought all this on anyway?” she asked.
Cody raked a hand through his hair. He wasn’t about to throw his brother under the bus, or the tractor as they said on the ranch, so he chose his words carefully. “I’ve learned that when a woman gets cranky, it’s time to let her have a little space. You seemed to need to get away from everyone when you went out on the four-wheeler, so I waited to check on you. That’s all.”
“I. Am. Not. Cranky,” she said through clenched teeth.
Cody bit back a chuckle. “Your words say one thing. Your tone and body language says something else altogether. What was your first thought when you drove out toward the pasture?”
She set her mouth in a firm line and turned her face away from him. “Freedom,” she finally answered.
“Been there. Done that,” Cody said. “In the villages where I worked, I seldom got a free minute to myself. It was too dangerous to walk more than a little way from the hospital, and even then, there were always people around wanting to talk to me.”
Texas Homecoming Page 12