“Yes, my wife was a remarkable person, just as you are, Amanda.” Arthur leaned forward in his chair. “Don’t be concerned with how long you’ve loved someone. Time is just a number, and the heart can’t read numbers. How long you’ve loved is inconsequential. What matters is how well you’ve loved.”
“Your marriage succeeded because you loved each other even for the short time before making a lifelong commitment to each other. My circumstances don’t compare.” Amanda truly wished it wasn’t so. She’d welcome Jeremy’s love, even suspected she’d accept his proposal. She’d come to love Bandit Creek, although she’d never live down the admission if Susan heard about it. “Jeremy doesn’t love me.”
“Are you willing to bet on that?” asked Arthur, eyes twinkling. “I’ve observed the way Jeremy watches you when you’re not looking. I’ve noticed the little kindnesses my son does for you without being asked. You just might be surprised by his answer if you questioned his feelings for you.”
Amanda rose from the chair, kissed the kindly older fellow’s cheek. “I’ll take that bet. How does ten dollars sound?”
Amanda shook Arthur’s hand to seal the wager and then wandered upstairs to her room. Could Arthur be right? Was it possible Jeremy did love her? Or was it just wishful thinking, for her and for Arthur?
CHAPTER TWELVE
Although the doctor declared Amanda fully recovered, the family wouldn’t hear of her moving back to the hotel. Amanda thanked everyone for their kindness, elated she could continue living at the ranch, sharing a home with a lively family, helping Catherine with her babies.
And she loved spending time with Jeremy, watching old Westerns or strolling through the gardens while discussing the day’s events. He’d snuck into her room on the weekend to make love with her, but he always left by midnight to ensure she received adequate rest.
Susan returned to Helena on the weekend, and on Monday morning Amanda resumed her duties at the bank.
That evening, Amanda yawned as she turned onto the long winding driveway leading to the Branigan homestead. Today was May 7, and she’d reached the three month mark in her pregnancy. Did she dare telephone her parents and share her good news? Soon, she promised herself, still a little apprehensive that something might go wrong. She wasn’t showing yet, thankfully, but Amanda thought she could detect a small bump. Or perhaps it was just her imagination.
She still had another month to go before Catherine returned to work on June 4. And Amanda wanted to stay until the Memorial Day long weekend to partake of these Bandit Creek Days she’d heard so much about. The bank employees shared stories of the annual mock bank robbery, but she suspected they were just pulling her leg.
Amanda pulled her BMW into the driveway and parked beside the mansion. Suddenly, a commotion on the far side of the yard caught her eye and she leapt out of the car. Cowboys lined the top rail of the main corral, waving their Stetsons and shouting. She heard a horse shrieking in the distance. As she raced across the yard, a plume of dust rose from inside the corral.
“Get that devil under control.”
Amanda recognized Arthur’s voice and noticed him standing by the corral gate. David’s arms were wrapped around his father, preventing him from opening the gate and entering the corral. Amanda realized one of the bucking stock horses must be causing the ruckus, and she hoped none of the cowboys had been attempting to ride the critter when he’d rebelled.
“Somebody get in there! Get him to back off.!” David yelled instructions at the cowboys lining the rail.
Two fellows leapt into the corral and disappeared in the cloud of dust.
Amanda reached Arthur’s side. “What happened? Is someone in there with that horse?”
David met her eyes. “Yes, Jeremy.”
Amanda’s knees buckled, and David released his grip on Arthur and caught her before she collapsed on the ground.
“Let me go! We need to get Jeremy out of there,” she shouted and managed to struggle out of David’s grasp.
She raced to the corral fence, kicked off her high heels, and clambered up the rails. The dust had cleared enough that she could discern Jeremy’s body lying in the dirt and muck. His tattered shirt had been torn off his body, and his chest and face were covered in blood.
“Jeremy!” she screamed at the prone, motionless form she knew was the man she loved. “Oh my God! He’s dying! Do something!”
“Girl, don’t even say such a thing.” Arthur appeared at her side, grabbed her arm and dragged her down off the railing. He wrapped his arm around her, and she felt his body trembling as much as her own. “We’ve called an ambulance, and they’ll be here soon. Now, just calm down. The boys are trained in first aid, and they’ll keep him breathing until help arrives.”
“What happened?” shouted Catherine and Shannon in unison, approaching from the direction of the house. “We noticed all the dust in the corral from the kitchen window,” added Catherine.
David rushed to her side. “Jeremy was thrown by Devil’s Way. That horse just went berserk; from the look in his eyes he wanted to kill Jeremy. I’ve seldom seen anything like it.”
Amanda gasped and a sob escaped her lips.
“Jeremy is not dead. He’s breathing and cursing up a storm.” David touched Amanda’s arm just as the ambulance screamed into the yard with the sirens blaring.
“Over here,” yelled David, arms waving to direct the paramedics toward the corral. “We have a cowboy in the dirt. He might have neck or back injuries.”
Amanda reached for the railing to steady herself when Arthur removed his arm from around her shoulders and joined David at the corral gate.
Catherine helped Amanda into her shoes again.
“Make way for the medics, boys,” shouted Arthur, and the cowboys parted to form a path to Jeremy.
Amanda noticed a tall cowboy had lassoed the horse and dragged him to the far side of the corral, restraining the prancing, agitated beast. Another cowboy raced to his side to assist.
“Okay, we’re putting Jeremy on the backboard and then transporting him to the Bandit Creek hospital. David, stand by with the helicopter. If his injuries are more serious than we suspect, we may have to transport him to Missoula.” The paramedics worked together quickly, like the well rehearsed team they were.
As they carried Jeremy through the corral gate, Amanda caught a glimpse of him. The man she loved more than life itself lay on the backboard, his entire body covered in mud and blood and his face totally indistinguishable. It could have been anyone lying there.
Amanda felt her stomach heave, but she hadn’t eaten a thing since lunch. She swallowed hard and forced herself to speak. “You’re going to be fine, Jeremy. Just hang in there, sweetheart,” she called as the paramedics whisked him across the yard and deposited him in the waiting ambulance.
A few seconds later, the siren blared to life and the ambulance raced toward town.
“Let’s go,” shouted Arthur, racing toward his SUV as quickly as a seventy year old gentleman could run. Catherine, Shannon and Amanda followed.
“I’ll fire up the chopper. I can be in the air in five minutes. Meet you at the hospital,” shouted David.
“I’ll call Mark on his cell,” said Shannon, digging her phone out of her pocket.
“I’m texting Rosalie that we’re all going into town with the ambulance,” added Catherine, furiously creating the message for the housekeeper on her cell. “The babies were just fed. They’ll be fine with Rosalie in charge.”
“I’ll follow you folks in the ranch pickup,” shouted Dusty, the Lazy B foreman.
“Dusty, please call the vet on the way into town on the pickup’s hands-free phone. I want that damn horse examined. And instruct the boys to check Devil’s saddle blanket for any signs of burrs or something that would cause such a strong reaction in him.”
“Will do, Boss,” called the cowboy as he headed back toward the corral.
“Catherine, you’re driving.” Arthur climbed into the passenger
side of his Ford SUV.
“Okay, Arthur.” Catherine and Shannon exchanged glances.
Amanda reached across the back seat and clasped Shannon’s hand. She realized that if Arthur refused to drive, he was definitely more upset and concerned than he’d been letting on. “How bad is it, Arthur?” she whispered from the back seat.
Arthur snapped his seatbelt into place and turned to meet her eyes. “I don’t rightly know, girl. But some praying on the way into town couldn’t hurt.”
****
Fifteen minutes later, the family charged into the hospital, having fractured a speeding limit or two following the ambulance into town. Fortunately, the local lawmen were otherwise engaged, and they hadn’t been stopped. Everyone prayed Jeremy’s injuries weren’t life threatening.
Arthur stopped at the front desk and listened while David finished answering the admitting nurse’s questions. The family stepped aside while two paramedics strode back outside rolling the gurney on which they’d just transported Jeremy into the emergency room.
“How is he?” called David.
“You’ll have to wait for the doctor.” The medical attendants continued out the door toward the waiting ambulance. The older fellow turned back and met David’s eyes. “He’s still breathing, but I’d keep that helicopter ready just in case.”
Amanda hated hospitals, especially the antiseptic smell. Visiting a new mother was one thing, but waiting to hear the condition of an injured loved one was altogether different. She couldn’t imagine anything worse. Nurses and orderlies bustled about the area, appearing totally confused, but probably quite busy and well organized.
“Doctor Crosby, please report to the Emergency Room, stat.”
Amanda’s heartbeat raced as the announcement blasted over the intercom. “Are they paging him for Jeremy, do you suppose?” she whispered.
“I hope so. He’s the best damn doctor in town,” answered Arthur, joining the family seated in the waiting room.
“Dad, sit down here,” Shannon patted the seat of a tub chair beside her.
Arthur nodded and slumped into the chair, his face deathly pale with shock and worry.
“I’ll fetch some coffee. This could take awhile.” Mark leapt to his feet. “Does anyone want something besides coffee?”
“Coffee’s fine, son, thanks,” muttered Arthur.
“I’ll go with you, Mark.” David headed down the hallway with Mark in tow.
Ten minutes passed without any word of Jeremy’s condition.
“I wish I could think of something to do to make time move faster.” Shannon stood, paced the floor. “Jeremy was covered in blood and his… No, I’m not going there. I’ll just wait to hear what the doctors have to say.”
Arthur reached for Shannon’s hand as she passed by him. “Stop that pacing, girl. Your brother will be fine. I refuse to believe otherwise.”
“Today started out so wonderful. I returned to work. The staff bought a cake and everything. And now…” Amanda’s eyes filled with tears.
“No tears, girl.” Arthur pointed his finger at her. “Jeremy will pull through this. All that blood doesn’t necessarily mean he was badly injured. We’re going to wait for the doctors to report on his condition, and we’re going to think only positive thoughts in the meantime.”
“Okay, Arthur, you’re right,” added Catherine.
“Where are those boys with that damn coffee?” Arthur glanced in the direction Mark and David had taken.
“They’re probably wearing a hole in the cafeteria linoleum, pacing and fretting about Jeremy.” Catherine forced a smile. “Likely as not, they’ve forgotten about the coffee altogether.”
A few minutes later, the guys returned with a tray each filled with coffee cups, cream and sugar packets, and plastic spoons. “This tray is regular and the other one is decaf,” explained David.
Everyone doctored a coffee to his or her liking and settled into a chair to wait. They waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, a nurse appeared in the waiting room. “Hi folks, Doctor Crosby sent me out here with an update on Jeremy.”
Everybody leapt to their feet. Catherine grabbed David’s hand, Shannon grabbed Mark’s hand, and Arthur reached for Amanda’s hand.
“How’s Jeremy, Moira?” asked Arthur, teetering slightly on his feet.
Amanda recognized the old family friend from the community party they’d recently held at the ranch to celebrate Cinco de Mayo day. She wrapped her arm around Arthur’s waist to help steady him.
“We’ve taken a mess of x-rays on that boy. That horse did a number on him. We’ll know shortly if any ribs are broken. Jeremy has got himself more contusions than Planters has peanuts, and the doctor suspects a mild concussion to boot. But, there’s no need for that big bird of yours to take him to Missoula. Jeremy is complaining that he’s missing supper, so that’s a good sign. I think he’s going to be okay.” The nurse smiled, eyes twinkling. She removed her OR cap and patted her gray hair. “Doctor Crosby is practicing his needlework, stitching up a dozen wounds on that boy’s chest using a local anesthetic. Now, folks, try not to worry. I’m off shift, but I imagine someone will be back with another update shortly.”
“Thank you, Moira.” Arthur shook the nurse’s hand. “We appreciate you taking the time to update us before you head home.”
“You’re welcome. You folks take care, now.” The nurse headed back down the hall.
An hour later, Doctor Crosby appeared in the waiting room. “All of the tests are normal, and the x-rays look good. I just finished stitching him up, and Jeremy’s going to be fine. But I’ll only allow two at a time in his room. He’s asking for Amanda and supper, but I’m not divulging in which order.” The doctor beamed, appearing relieved his patient was doing so well.
“Well, he’s getting Amanda and his dad, too.”
“I’ve got some insurance papers for you to sign, Arthur.” Doctor Crosby pulled a file out from under his arm.
“You go on ahead, Amanda. I’ll join you as soon as I sign this darn paperwork.”
Amanda gave the doctor an impromptu hug. “Thank you, Doctor Crosby, for taking such good care of him.”
The rest of the family chimed in their agreement.
“You’re all very welcome.” The doctor shuffled his papers.
Arthur glared at the doctor and indicated the tub chair he’d just clambered out of. “My back hurts and I’m so stiff I feel like I’ve been riding fence all day. Next time I mail a donation to this hospital, buy some decent chairs for the damn waiting rooms.”
“Definitely more important than that ultrasound machine we need. Folks will have to continue to drive to Missoula, but the waiting room chairs will be comfy.” Doctor Crosby chuckled and shook his head. “Here, Arthur, sign your John Henry on these forms, please.”
****
Amanda crept into Jeremy’s room, mentally preparing herself for the worst. Jeremy sat propped up on pillows in the hospital bed, and she grimaced at the sight of him. Several ugly cuts requiring more stitches than she could count crisscrossed his chest, and severe multi-colored bruises covered his bare torso and arms. She suspected the parts of him that were hidden under the pristine white sheet were equally bruised. One badly swollen cheek threatened to ruin his Hollywood-handsome good looks.
“Hi,” she croaked, her mouth felt as dry as cotton.
“Hi, darlin’,” he mumbled with his mouth full. Despite the stitched cut that intersected his lower lip, his hands were wrapped around a half-eaten take-out burger.
“What are you eating?” Amanda approached his bedside.
“Lucy heard about the accident and sent a burger over with George. The doctors refused to feed me until the tests and x-rays proved they hadn’t missed anything. I only had local anesthetic while Doctor Crosby stitched me up, so he let George sneak this burger in here. Damn this tastes good. Those large tips I leave Lucy paid off today.”
“Doctor Crosby assured us you’d be okay.” Amanda didn’t point out the fact
that the entire family was missing supper due to his injuries. Not that she could haven eaten a bite.
“I have a slight concussion, massive bruising and these cuts requiring dozens of stitches. But the doctor told me I’d recover nicely with antibiotics, painkillers, and a bit of spoiling.” Jeremy attempted a grin and grimaced.
Amanda smiled. “We can spoil you.”
Arthur charged into the room. “How’s my boy doing?”
“I wish the doctor would let me out of here. I feel fine,” insisted Jeremy, his speech slightly garbled due to his swollen lip. He polished off his burger and mindful of his cut lip carefully washed it down with water before tossing the burger wrapper toward the garbage can, missing his target by a good six inches.
Arthur retrieved the wrapper and tossed it into the can. “Judging by your aim, son, you’re not doing so fine. Devil’s Way did a number on you, and you’re staying overnight like the doctor suggested.”
Amanda stood with one hand on her hip. “When I leave for home I’m taking your clothes with me. Unless you plan an escape wearing that hospital gown with the air-conditioning in back, you’ll be forced to stay put.”
Arthur burst out laughing. “I love a feisty girl.”
“Okay, I’ll stay. I’ll see you tomorrow, Dad. Kiss my nephews goodnight for me.” Jeremy shifted in the bed and grimaced.
“Take care of yourself, son. I’ll take the rest of the family home so you can rest. Do what the nurses tell you, and I’ll come fetch you tomorrow.” Arthur patted his son’s leg and then met Amanda’s eyes. “Mark can hop into the ranch pickup with Dusty. We’ll leave Mark’s pickup here for you. Come on home when you’re ready.”
“Thank you, Arthur,” whispered Amanda, while her eyes welled with tears. ‘Home’ he’d said. And the ranch did feel like home. “I’ll be right along.”
“Thanks, Dad.” Jeremy reached for Amanda’s hand. “Come here, darlin’.”
After Arthur left, Amanda leaned over and kissed Jeremy’s forehead. “Your lip looks pretty sore. Every inch of you looks pretty bad.”
A Bandit Creek Miracle Page 11