Bridleton

by Becky Barker

  By then the ground beneath her vibrated from the thundering hooves of an angry, two-thousand-pound cow. Andrea looked up to see the crazed heifer closing the distance between them with frightening speed. The rogue cow had her head to the ground, her horns tilted downward like swords, charging right at her. She tried to scramble to her feet but her legs got tangled and she couldn’t move quickly enough.

  She screamed. The others were over the fence in a rush attempting to distract the charging animal but it paid no attention. Andrea watched, horrified, as the cow’s wickedly sharp horns aimed straight for her head.

  Then, suddenly, Noah raced between them, grabbing one of the horns, throwing his weight against the cow and trying to change her maniacal charge. Andrea screamed hysterically as the cow lifted its massive head, tossing him in the air as if his two hundred pounds was lighter than a fly. She saw the other horn catch him in the chest midair. Blood gushed and he got thrown hard, landing flat on his back.

  By then several of the men had lassos in the air, roping and wrangling with the cow to pull her away from them. Andrea’s scream lodged in her throat as she stared at Noah’s motionless body. She could barely breathe as she crawled on hands and knees to reach him.

  Please, please, please, God, no! she prayed silently. Let him be all right. I can’t live without him. Please let him be okay!

  “Noah! Noah!” Her voice held a rising panic as she reached him and tried to see the extent of the damage. So still. So frighteningly still. She’d never seen him look so pale and lifeless.

  “Please, Noah, please!” She ran her hands over his chest where the cow’s horn had ripped through his shirt and sliced his skin. Her stomach roiled at the pool of warm, sticky blood. He’d hit the ground so hard. His lung could have been punctured, his head concussed. He could be bleeding internally. A horrifying list of possibilities raced through her mind.

  In the background she heard someone shouting for first aid, someone else shouting to call for help. Another suggestion to call the vet back to the ranch. She placed a hand on Noah’s heart and leaned over to listen for the sound of breathing. When his warm breath sighed over her skin, she felt like sobbing. She cupped his face in her hands and coaxed him to respond.

  “Noah, please, talk to me!” The words sounded hoarse and desperate to her own ears. She didn’t want to frighten him but she was far from calm herself. Trying again, she kept her tone soft and soothing. “Noah, darling, please, please!”

  After what seemed like an eternity later he opened his eyes and looked directly at her. His expression was confused at first, and then his features tightened with memory and alarm. He reached up and grabbed her arm.

  “You’re okay?” he asked, his tone gruff, his eyes dark with concern.

  Tears streaked through the dust on Andrea’s face. Annoyed at the blinding moisture, she swiped them away. “I’m fine. I promise,” she said, her hands dropping lightly to his chest.

  “Then why are you crying?”

  “Because you scared the hell out of me,” she whispered. “That old cow gored you and knocked you unconscious.”

  Noah reached his free hand to his chest, feeling the wound. He started to sit up.

  “Lie still,” she said. “You might have a concussion or internal injuries. You shouldn’t move until we get a backboard out here and get you to the emergency room.”

  He ignored her protests and carefully sat up, rubbing his chest. “It’s just a scrape. It’s not deep. I’ve had worse.”

  “You’re bleeding profusely,” she argued, pressing her hand over the wound to stop the flow of blood. “You should be still.”

  “Probably needs stitches.”

  The others had gathered around them. Noah reached a hand to Trace and he pulled him to his feet. He swayed briefly but steadied himself then turned and offered Andrea a hand. She shook her head in frustration, grasping his hand and letting him help her to her feet. Her left ankle protested but held her weight.

  “You’re sure you’re okay?” he asked.

  “You’re the one who’s bleeding,” she snapped in irritation.

  Noah had the nerve to laugh at her. “You always did hate being scared, didn’t you, Drea? Did that mean old cow give you a bad scare?” His words and tone teased but his eyes and expression were stone-cold serious as he studied her face.

  She swiped the last of her tears from her face and glared at him. “The cow didn’t scare me half as much as you did. What the hell were you thinking, trying to wrestle that stupid beast? It’s ten times bigger than you!”

  He didn’t bother to respond but she read the message in his eyes. She’d been in danger. He’d done his best to protect her. That’s the kind of man he was, the kind who’d won and kept her heart despite years of separation. The kind of man a woman could depend on in any circumstance, however difficult. A wave of love washed over her, so overwhelming her knees nearly buckled. She hoped he could see it in her eyes, believe it with his heart, but she’d always felt so unsure and vulnerable with him.

  Then Doc showed up and half a dozen people tried to explain the situation. Noah wanted the vet to stitch his wound but the doctor refused, ordering him to the emergency room for a complete checkup. Andrea expected him to refuse so she insisted her ankle needed medical attention too. That swayed his decision.

  Doc cleaned and covered the wound with gauze to stem the flow of blood while everyone talked a mile a minute. Nanette, who’d handled dozens of emergencies in her time, showed up and insisted she and Sam could supervise the evening’s chores. That freed Trace and Cheyenne to drive the wounded to the county hospital.

  Andrea’s plan to accompany Noah to the hospital backfired a little when he demanded she have her ankle x-rayed. Chey stayed with her and Trace stuck by Noah in their individual waiting areas. She strained to hear what the doctor told him but all she could hear was the drone of male conversation. A nurse’s aide distracted her with a bunch of questions and then a technician wheeled her to the lab for an x-ray, eventually returning her to the cubicle. After an interminable wait they heard Noah being given parting instructions on how to care for his wound.

  When the same doctor, a young, attractive resident, came to her cubicle, he flirted shamelessly with Cheyenne but refused to tell them anything about Noah’s condition. He prodded and twisted her foot, studied the x-ray of her ankle and then diagnosed a mild sprain.

  “I could have told him that if he’d asked how it actually felt,” grumbled Andrea when they finally joined the men in the waiting room. “I can put weight on it without any pain.”

  Trace stood as they approached. “He didn’t even ask if it hurt?”

  “He was too busy flirting with Chey,” she explained.

  “I can’t imagine why,” put in Cheyenne. “I’m filthy and I stink.”

  “Think a little dirt can turn off a man’s interest?” challenged Trace. Andrea tuned out their bickering and focused on Noah as he came to his feet more slowly. When their gazes locked each searched the other’s expression for signs of pain.

  “I’m fine.” She answered his unspoken question and silently asked one of her own.

  “Me too,” he said. “Sore but no major damage. Just a few stitches and a tetanus shot. Doc could have done that and saved us a trip.”

  “Better to be safe,” said Chey as she and Trace herded them toward the parking lot. “I never want another scare like you two gave me this evening, do you hear? And I’m positive I want that nasty old cow slaughtered.”

  “Not the heifer’s fault,” Trace argued. “She’s just doing what nature created her to do.”

  Cheyenne didn’t want to hear it. “Stomping and goring people? If that’s natural I’ll eat my boots. The animal is a menace.”

  Trace defended the mama cow again as he drove them home. They continued to squabble, jumping from subject to subject. Noah sat quietly in the front seat of the truck because he needed more leg room. Andrea sat in the cramped backseat of the club cab with her legs tu
cked to the side. She badly wanted to touch him and hold him but knew she’d have to wait. Patience is a virtue, she kept reminding herself.

  Nanna and Sam met them at the front door where Cheyenne briefly provided details of the emergency room visit. Once everyone had answered questions they decided to head for bed. It was going on midnight before Andrea could shower off the dirt and grime of the day. Her ankle felt tender but her boot had protected it from serious damage or the accompanying discomfort. Every other inch of her body ached from a long day’s work and her none-too-gentle collision with the ground. She imagined Noah felt a whole lot worse.

  As soon as she’d cleaned up she donned an old, modest yellow cotton nightgown and robe and then headed across the balcony to his bedroom. When she entered the dimly lit room she saw him coming from the bathroom, gloriously naked, rubbing his hair dry with a towel. Her breath hitched at his lean, sculpted beauty. A huge white bandage marred the masculine good looks and made her stomach roil. He’d risked his life for her today. The knowledge was humbling.

  When he caught sight of her he tossed aside the towel and gave her a slight smile. “If you’ve come to be ravished, I might not be in top form tonight.”

  With that, he slowly crossed the room and eased himself onto the bed. By the time Andrea reached his side he’d stretched out full length and dropped his head to the pillow. Her gaze swept over his impressive form with slow admiration. A frown quickly transformed her features when she focused on the darkening bruises on his otherwise golden skin.

  “You didn’t get your stitches wet, did you?” she asked, stepping close and running a light finger over the edge of the bandage. The skin around it had turned an ugly purple. “Were you supposed to shower?” She hadn’t heard all the doctor’s instructions and he hadn’t mentioned them.

  “I was filthy. The ER doc gave me some plastic stuff to protect the bandages.”

  The explanation seemed to take all his strength. Andrea wanted to comfort him, give him support and generally help in any way possible. She knew there wasn’t anything else to do. He needed rest but she didn’t want him out of her sight.

  “Mind if I sleep with you tonight?” she asked softly.

  Noah opened his beautiful eyes and stared at her for a long, silent minute. The deep, powerful connection between them didn’t need to be explained. It just existed. He patted the bed beside him. She switched off the bedside lamp, took off her robe and carefully slid into bed with him.

  After leaning over to brush a soft kiss across his lips, she settled into her side of the bed, her hand on his arm. She needed the contact as much as she needed her next breath, needed to feel the heat of his body. A deep-seated contentment settled over them. It only took a couple minutes for Noah’s breathing to drop into a slow, steady rhythm of sleep.

  Did he love her half as much as she loved him? His actions today spoke louder than words. He’d have done his best to save anyone in the same situation. He’d have tossed a rope or managed a distraction, not thrown himself in the animal’s path.

  He cared deeply. She knew that for a fact. He’d shrugged off her declaration of love and accused her of not trusting him but he didn’t trust her either. Not the soul-deep trust people shared when they made a lifetime commitment. Her fault, of course, because she’d abandoned him once. Could they ever get past the past?

  Despite being exhausted, it took her much longer to get to sleep. She couldn’t get over the fact that she could have lost him today. Really lost him. Nor could she easily forget how she’d felt when she’d seen him lying so still and lifeless. Her stomach churned every time she remembered. She had to find a way to make things right between them again. She had to find out if he could ever love her the way she needed him to love her. Find out if they had any real chance for a future.

  * * * * *

  The midday sun shone through the sliding doors of Noah’s bedroom the next day when Andrea pulled the blinds. She turned and smiled as he slowly came awake, rubbing his eyes, stretching his long, lean body and carefully pulling himself into a sitting position.

  “I smell caffeine,” he mumbled when his gaze settled on her.

  She nodded toward the bedside table where she’d place a mug of strong, hot coffee. He grunted in pain as he twisted to reach for it and she quickly moved to his side.

  “Sit still and let me help.”

  He eased himself back and accepted the mug, sniffing, sipping and then downing a long swallow with a quiet sigh of pleasure. She watched with a smile, noting how wonderfully disheveled he looked. Hair tousled and with heavy-lidded eyes, he appeared more relaxed than she’d seen him in a very long time.

  “Why didn’t someone wake me? There’s work to be done.” He glanced at the sunshine streaming through the doors. “Half the day is gone already.”

  His husky grumble deepened her smile. She pulled a straight-backed chair close to the bed, sat down and crossed her legs. “Zack came home early this morning. Nanna called him and he brought a couple friends to help while you recuperate. Chey’s in her element giving them all orders. She told him to take his motley crew out and cut hay. Trace is managing the baling and Sam’s orchestrating the storage in the barn loft. They’ll survive without us for a couple days.”

  Noah didn’t argue, which meant he didn’t feel well enough to jump out of bed and get busy. At least she had a captive audience even if she didn’t feel very confident in what she was about to propose. Instead, she stalled.

  “I can go get you something to eat if you’d like. I wasn’t sure if you’d want breakfast or lunch. Meredith said she’d be happy to supply either.”

  “The coffee’s fine for now. At least until you tell me what’s on your mind. Then I guess I’ll decide my next move.”

  Andrea dropped her gaze. He knew her too well. She wondered, for the millionth time, if he loved her. She hoped so since she was about to make an offer that put her pride, heart and inheritance on the line.

  Her smile turned stiff. “Do you despise me as much as you always despised your absentee father?”

  His brows furrowed in a frown. “What in the hell brought that on? Why would you compare yourself to that worthless bastard?”

  “Well, we both abandoned you. Maybe in different degrees but I’m wondering if you resent me too. You never forgave him. Is it impossible to forgive me?”

  He stared at her for a long, silent minute. She returned his steady gaze, trying not to show how much his answer meant to her. Heat crawled up her neck and cheeks. Nerves and muscles tensed, she held her breath for his response.

  “No.”

  She bit her lip. He wasn’t going to give her any help. She’d been the one to destroy their relationship. Now she had to repair it or put an end to it forever. Stalling, she said, “That’s it? Just no?”

  “What do you want from me, Drea?”

  She took a deep breath and then a deep plunge into the unknown. “First I want you to understand I’m not a snob. Not the way you think. I never believed marrying you was beneath me. I’ve always been insecure and needy. Maybe it’s because my parents never stayed around much. I’m not sure what a shrink would think but I’m a lot more confident now. The façade you hate so much is my defense system. If I have a suspicious, untrusting nature it’s because I don’t have much faith in my ability to attract and hold a man like you.”

  The rush of words left her feeling drained and more emotionally exposed than she’d felt in her whole life. Dropping her lashes to conceal the vulnerability, she waited breathlessly for his response.

  He reached out a hand and clasped one of hers, drawing her to the side of the bed. When she’d settled next to him, he said, “We both have some abandonment hang-ups.”

  She studied his face. “You think I don’t trust you but I can’t help being jealous of Shelly. She’s had you for the past five years and that worries me. Seeing the two of you together on the land you once declared our future home, it hit me hard. I do trust you. With my life,” she whispered,
bringing his hand to her lips. “But I’m the jealous, possessive type too.”

  “Would you like to know what we said to each other out there?”

  Andrea felt a fine tremor in his fingers and she gazed into his darkened eyes. Her throat started to clog so she responded with a nod.

  “We watched you galloping toward us looking so strong and sure and beautiful. Shelly said you’re a natural on horseback but I couldn’t respond or take my eyes off you. The sight of you stole my breath.”

  She swallowed hard. Noah never wasted much time with words but when he did, he melted her into a puddle. She held his gaze and her breath as he continued. “She asked me how much I loved you.”

  Hesitantly, fearfully, hopefully, Andrea asked, “What did you tell her?”

  He replied with a simple, “More than life.” Her chest constricted, and she closed her eyes as tears threatened. “I’m so sorry I doubted you.”

  “I love you,” he said. “With all my heart. You say you love me too but that doesn’t guarantee we’re good for each other.”

  “What’s still worrying you?” she asked. “What if I hadn’t come up with the money to buy that acreage? How would you feel then?”

  Andrea blinked back tears and tightened her grip on his hand. She knew her answer was crucial to their future but she didn’t quite understand what he wanted to know. Suspicion reared its ugly head. Had someone else put up the money for the land? Did he feel guilty because Shelly Hastings or some development company had backed him?

  “I’d be disappointed if you wanted the land for anything other than personal use but we desperately needed the money. We didn’t ask questions or sell it with conditions. It’s yours for whatever reason you bought it.” She prayed he hadn’t bought it for Shelly.

  “I wouldn’t betray the family’s trust that way,” he assured her. “It’ll be my ranch. I just wonder how much your love is tangled with what I have instead of who I am.”

  Suddenly his question made sense. She understood and empathized. Despite being a supremely self-confident man, Noah’s emotional insecurities matched her own.