by Desiree Holt
He squinted his eyes to watch her as she led one of the yearlings out of the paddock toward the barn. Joe Aquino, another of the wranglers opened the gate to the paddock so she could pass through and reached his hand up to take the lead rope from her. Bailey smiled at the man, shook her head at first, then gave him the rope. It was hard for her to let anyone do something for her. Boy, he sure knew that song.
She backed up her horse slightly then headed toward the first pasture. Hondo knew she’d take Autumn Gold, her palomino for a short run before stabling her as a reward for the morning’s work. He observed her with pride, enjoying the way she sat the horse, the way woman and animal moved as one.
Then in the blink of an eye everything went to hell. Hondo watched as if seeing it in slow motion.
Something spooked Autumn Gold, one of the steadiest horses he’d ever seen. The mare reared, pawing the air in fright. Her action was so sudden and so swift it caught Bailey by surprise, and she flew from the saddle, landing hard on the ground.
Hondo spurred his horse forward, two of the other wranglers already ahead of him. One of them reached for and grabbed Autumn Gold’s dangling reins, trying to calm the horse. The other one shouted something unintelligible and pulled the shotgun from where it was stowed on his saddle.
“Snake!” he shouted, aimed the gun, and fired.
Hondo pulled up just in time to see a rattlesnake coiled on the ground, its head blown away by the shotgun. He leaped from his saddle even before his horse had come to a complete stop and knelt beside Bailey. She lay completely still, body twisted at an odd angle, skin paler than snow. Blood streaked through her hair and onto her forehead. For one frightening moment, he thought she wasn’t breathing. Then he saw the faint pulse beating at the hollow of her throat.
“Bailey. Sweetheart, can you hear me?”
But she was completely unresponsive. He yanked his cell phone from its holster on his belt and punched in nine-one-one. He was talking to the emergency dispatcher when Liz came running up.
“What happened? I heard the shot and raced out here.” She crouched down beside Bailey. “Don’t move her,” she told Hondo.
“Don’t worry. I know enough not to do that.” He stuck his phone back in the holster. “I called EMS. Ambulance is on its way.” He lifted one of Bailey’s hands, much too cold to his way of thinking, and closed his fingers around it.
“So what happened?” Liz asked again. “Her horse is one of the steadiest I’ve ever seen.”
“Rattlesnake,” Hondo spat and pointed at the coiled mess on the ground.
“For god’s sake. I haven’t seen one around here in ages.”
“It’s hot. It may have been working its way away from the horses and cattle and looking for someplace cool.”
“Damn it. Just god damn it.” She knelt on the other side of Bailey, smoothing her hair back from her face.
They were stuck, helpless until the EMS techs arrived. Neither of them giving voice to the fears that hovered like black clouds. To Hondo it seemed forever until they heard the wail of the ambulance siren and the crunch of tires on the gravel drive. Then they were pushing Hondo and Liz out of the way, checking Bailey over.
One of the men began checking her vitals, and what they called the ABC’s—airway, breathing, circulation—while the other attached a blood pressure cuff to her arm. Quietly, he reported to the hospital through the radio in his hand. Hondo could still see the faint beat of the pulse at the hollow of Bailey’s throat and clung to that as a hopeful sign. But she was still unconscious.
Two pairs of hands moved gently over her, very carefully checking for broken bones. When they got to her hip and, even unconscious she moaned, they exchanged a significant look. More chatter with the hospital. Quickly starting an IV.
Are they ever fucking going to get her in the ambulance?
He watched as they fastened a collar around her neck, rolled her gently to her uninjured side, and slid her carefully onto a body board. She winced and cried out again as their movements jostled her slightly.
“What’s wrong?” Hondo demanded. “She’s in pain. Can’t you give her something for it?”
One of the EMS techs rose to speak to him. “We can’t give her anything until we have some idea of what’s wrong, especially with the head injury. I promise you she isn’t even aware of the pain. If she was, she’d wake up. Be more alert.” He looked down then back at Hondo. “You need to give us room here, okay?”
Then he closed up his kit and slid the strap over his shoulder. Together the two men lifted the body board with great care, placed it on to the stretcher they’d rolled out with them, and transported her as carefully as possible to the waiting ambulance.
“Where are you taking her?” Hondo demanded.
“Hill Country Methodist,” one of them answered. “You’re lucky. They just opened this year, and they have a Level One Trauma Center. Whatever she needs she’ll get. We could call for the helicopter, but the doctor thinks she’ll tolerate the ambulance ride. Anyway, we’ll be there by the time the helo could get here to pick her up.”
Hondo jogged along beside the men, insane with worry. “I want to ride with her.”
One of the techs shook his head. “No room. I need to be next to her and monitor her. Maintain communication with the hospital. We’re pretty crowded back there.”
“But—”
Liz put a hand on his arm. “I’ll take you.” Her calm voice counteracted the edge of lunacy consuming him. “Give me a minute here, and we’ll be on our way.
He waited impatiently as she talked to the men in the yard, assuring them, giving orders. Then she directed him to one of the ranch trucks, and in seconds, they were on their way. He barely registered the sound of her voice as she spoke on her cell phone no doubt calling her husband. Although he could tell they were well over the speed limit, he wished he had a way to go faster still.
He stared unseeing through the windshield, unable to rid his mind of the image of Bailey lying on the ground, pale as a ghost, bloody. Not moving. Jesus, what would he do if she died? He’d only begun to plan a life with her. To figure out how to convince her they could make it together. That he not only respected her need to be strong in other aspects of her life but welcomed it. That he wanted—needed—a strong woman in his life.
“Hondo?” Liz’s soft voice startled him.
“Yeah?”
“We’re here.”
He blinked, unaware they’d reached a town, much less pulled into the hospital parking lot. Yanking off his seat belt, he pushed open the door and leaped from the truck. He was already through the Emergency door and at the intake desk, arguing with the woman in charge, before Liz caught up with him.
“But she was just brought in,” he insisted, barely able to keep from pounding his fist on the desk. “I just want to know where she was taken.”
“And I told you,” the woman said. “I don’t have any information on her yet. If you’ll just have a seat—”
“I don’t want to take any goddamn seat.” Hondo ground his teeth. “I want to know where Bailey French is. And I want to know now.”
“Hondo.” Liz was at his elbow, touching his arm. “Come over here. Please. Alex just arrived, and he’ll find out what we need to know.”
She tugged at his arm, urging him away from the desk. When he turned, he saw Alex Wright headed down the hallway to where the emergency treatment rooms were.
“I’m going to fill out her information and tell them what they need to know for insurance purposes. Then I’ll find us a couple of cups of coffee and we’ll sit down.” Her eyes were filled with sympathy. “Come on. You won’t do Bailey any good if you turn into a lunatic.”
Somehow, he found himself nudged into a chair in the waiting room, a cup of vending machine coffee in his hands. He was overcome with an urge to toss the contents in the face of the witch at the intake desk. Instead, he forced himself to take a deep breath and try to focus. Whatever was wrong with Bailey, she’d need
help, and he planned to be the one to give it to her.
He stared into the sludge in the cup then forced himself to take a sip. It was just as bad as he expected, but it gave him something else to focus on.
“Hondo?” Alex was crouched in front of him. “Focus, buddy. I’ve got some info.”
That snapped him to attention. “Yeah? What did they say? How is she? What’s—”
Alex held up a hand. “One thing at a time. She’s in one of the trauma rooms right now. They’re doing a head to toe assessment, do again all the things the EMS guys did at the scene. They need to x-ray her and get a CAT scan of her head.”
“What—How—” He swallowed.
I need to get my shit together here. Liz is right. I won’t do Bailey any good if I lose it.
“Okay.” He took in a deep breath and blew it out.
Alex nodded and took the chair next to him. “The doc who’s with her is a friend of mine so I got as much from him as I could. Her vitals are shaky but stable at the moment. They started an IV drip and are giving her a low dose of morphine. Just enough to take the edge off the pain until they assess the head injury. They don’t know how severe her head injury is, but they do believe she has a broken hip. The x-ray tech is in there now with a portable machine. When she’s finished, they’ll take Bailey for the scan.”
“A broken hip.” He repeated the words slowly, as if they were somehow foreign to him.
Alex nodded. “ Apparently, she landed right on the hip at just the right angle for the bone to break. Once they figure out what’s what with her head, she’ll need surgery to repair the damage. Maybe even a hip replacement. But they aren’t making any decisions until all the test results are in. Then they’ll call for the specialists.”
“Shit.” Hondo slammed his fist on the arm of the chair. “Damn it all to hell anyway.” He looked at Liz, who was sitting on the other side of him. “If this puts an end to her job, she’ll kill herself. Being a wrangler is what she is.”
“Let’s not borrow trouble before it comes calling,” she said. “We’ll wait for a full assessment and then see where we go from there.” She gave Hondo what he was sure was meant to be an encouraging smile. “However this turns out, Bailey will always have a place with us. Maybe not as a wrangler, but there are a lot of other things she can do. First, let’s find out the extent of the head injury.”
He took off his hat and rubbed his forehead. “She’ll be devastated if she—” He stopped. Liz was right. One thing at a time. “When will we know more?”
“I’d say we’re looking at a couple of hours,” Alex answered. “By the time they run their tests, see if they need more, run them, have a full consult, it will probably be late afternoon.”
Hondo looked at Liz. “I’m staying here. You can fire me for not going back to work if you want, but—”
“Stop, stop, stop.” Liz shook her head. “I’m not firing you for anything. Certainly not for this. I know you want to be here. I might fire you if you didn’t. But keep a tight rein on yourself. She’ll need you to be the stable one.” She looked at Alex. “Can you—”
“Go to the ranch and make sure everything’s okay?”
“Please.” She gave him a grateful smile. “Everyone knows the schedule for today. I’m not worried about that. But they’ll be in a panic about Bailey and they need a calm head out there.”
“No sweat. We aren’t that busy at the store today, and my workers have it under control.” He rose and took a moment to cup her chin and place a heated kiss on her lips. “Check in with me when you know something, okay?”
“I will.”
Hondo couldn’t help but notice the intense intimacy in that kiss. That was what he wanted for Bailey and himself. What he hoped they would have. He was determined to make that happen, somehow.
“Hondo?” Alex nudged him. “This is absolutely the best place for her to be. Whatever she needs, whatever kind of doctor, it’s all right here for her. She’ll get the very best.”
“And we’ll make sure of it,” Liz added.
They spent a long afternoon in the waiting room. Liz occupied herself texting on her phone and keeping in touch with things, fully aware he was in no mood for conversation. About three o’clock someone called her name, and the two of them rose to meet the doctors approaching the waiting area.
“I’m Dr. Hinson, the neurologist,” the taller of the two said. “This is Dr. Adamo, the orthopedist. You must be Liz Wright.” He held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you, although not necessarily under these circumstances. Have you notified her family?”
“She has none,” Liz told them. “Both of her parents are dead.”
That shocked Hondo. It occurred to him they’d never even discussed personal details like that even during all their long dinners.
“Then I guess you’re it, right?”
“And me,” Hondo interjected, and held out his hand. “Hondo LaBar.”
“Hondo and Bailey are…very close,” Liz told them.
And they’d be a damn sight closer as soon as he could manage it.
“So what do you have?” Hondo asked. “How is she?”
“The scan showed a concussion,” Hinson answered. “But thankfully not as severe as it might have been. Enough to make her lose consciousness, but even now, she’s beginning to come out of it. The blood on her head was from a cut to her scalp when she fell.”
“Her hip is definitely broken,” Adamo added. “We’re going to have to do a full hip replacement. They’re actually prepping her for the surgery now.”
“Surgery?” Hondo tightened his hands into fists. “With a concussion?”
“Deep breath, Hondo,” Liz told him. “They wouldn’t be operating if there was any danger in giving her the anesthesia.” She looked at the doctors. “Right?”
They both nodded.
“And we’ll be carefully monitoring her throughout the procedure,” Adamo assured them.
“What happens after that?” Liz wanted to know.
“If all goes well,” Hinson told her, “we’ll have her in ICU for the first twenty-four hours just so she gets the extra monitoring. Then we’ll move her into a room. After a week, we’d like to transfer her to the rehab section so she gets two intensive weeks of physical therapy with that new hip. She’s in excellent physical shape so that’s a big help.”
“I want her to have a private room,” Liz insisted.
“Of course. You’ll just need to take care of that with Admitting.”
“Does she live with anyone?” Adamo asked. “She’ll need care and support once she’s released. And someone to take her back and forth to physical therapy three times a week.”
“She’ll be with me,” Hondo broke in.
Everyone stared at him.
Finally, Liz asked, “Are you sure about this?”
He nodded. “Damn sure. The house I’m renting is all on one floor, and I’m more than equipped to take care of her.”
And wasn’t he just damn glad he’d decided on the spur of the moment to move out of his crappy apartment and into that house. Maybe Liz would fire him after all if he took so much time off, but he didn’t give a flying fuck. His only concern was Bailey.
Liz shrugged. “All right, then. That seems to be settled.”
“When can I—we—see her?” Hondo demanded.
“It will be at least four hours,” Adamo answered. “After surgery, she’ll go to recovery before we send her up to ICU.”
“Four hours?” Hondo nearly shouted the words.
“Thank you, doctors.” Liz smiled and shook hands with both. “And please keep in mind she gets the best of everything.”
They both nodded and walked away.
“You know I could just as easily bring Bailey to my house,” she said. “It wouldn’t be any hardship on my part.”
“She comes home with me,” he insisted stubbornly. “If I have to, I’ll quit my job.”
Liz smiled. “It won’t be a problem to keep you o
n the payroll, Hondo. After all, you’ll be helping one of our people. Right?”
He blew out a breath. “You’re the best, Liz. I’ll never be able to repay you.”
“It all shakes down one way or another. Right now, we focus on Bailey.”
Hondo turned to her. “Four fucking hours? Are they kidding?”
“This is an intricate piece of surgery, and she’s sustained some other damage to her body. But she’s in very good hands.”
“What the hell am I going to do for four hours? I’ll lose my fucking mind.”
“No, you won’t. We’re going to get a drink to unfrazzle your nerves. After that, a sandwich and coffee. By then she’ll be ready for you to see her. Let’s get you under control before you self-destruct and aren’t any good to her at all.”
Chapter Seven
Hondo poured a glass of wine for Bailey and pulled a beer for himself from the fridge. Her physical therapy sessions were going well and her checkup with the doctor that afternoon had been optimistic.
“You won’t be able to get on that horse again for a while,” Dr. Adamo cautioned her, “but you can resume all other normal activities. Keep up with the therapy and do your exercises at home.”
“We’re taking care of that,” Hondo assured him.
Which wasn’t quite as easy as he’d made it sound. Everything had been a battle from Day One, from the necessity of him bathing her and dressing her to helping her eat and pushing her through her exercises.
“I don’t want you doing anything for me,” Bailey had raged even while she was still in the hospital. “Go away. Leave me be. I can do things for myself. No one makes my decisions for me except me.”