by Cora Seton
Treven sank to the ground, his knees shaking, his breath pumping as he eased Ms. Delta onto the seedling grass of the infield.
With a jerk, her body came to life. She coughed and hauled off her helmet, gasping in air and hacking it back out. “What…” More coughing as she removed her fireproof hood. “What happened?”
She looked up at Treven.
What they said was true. She had one green eye and one blue eye. “You’re safe.” He reached to take her pulse, but didn’t recognize the red, blistered skin on his… Then the pain hit.
*
Delta had seen this cowboy earlier, walking through the pits. Those dark green eyes, auburn hair, spectacular jawline, and muscled body. Now, his eyes widened in his smudged face, then his lids flickered and a grimace distorted his mouth.
“What is it?” She looked down at her fire suit, then caught sight of his hands. Delta gasped and sat up, her world spinning for a second, then settled as three men surrounded them.
“Ma’am, lay back.” One guy touched her.
“No, I’m fine.” She looked at the blond man with his hand on her shoulder. Not in uniform, but carrying a red medic bag, he had to be a firefighter. The man’s pale blue eyes shifted and a look of horror crossed his face as he spotted the cowboy’s hands.
How had he gotten so badly burned? “Please help him.” Delta held her palms a few inches under the cowboy’s burned, shaking hands. “I don’t know what to do to help him.”
Loud shouts came from behind her and she looked back as firefighters in full gear shot white propellant from nozzles attached to canisters at flames blazing from the inside of her car. “Oh.” Everything made sense now. She gazed at the cowboy’s hands.
This man had saved her life.
“Aw shit, Treven.” The blue-eyed, white-haired man grasped the cowboy’s elbow and moved his arm to look at the damage on the other side. “We need to get you to the hospital. Right now.”
“I can drive him.” Delta scrambled to her knees just as the firefighter gestured for the ambulance to pull closer. “Oh.” Her brain wasn’t functioning at full speed.
The cowboy looked at her, and gave a half smile. “No offense, ma’am, but I’ve seen you drive. I’ll ride in the ambulance, if it’s all the same to you.”
She would laugh if the pain in his eyes wasn’t so terrible to witness. The white-haired fireman helped the cowboy—Treven?—stand.
The crowd went wild. “Someone bring me the name of that hero,” the announcer called. “The man who saved Delta Pennington’s life.”
Another firefighter, this one dark-skinned with black hair and eyes, crouched next to her. “If you’d lie down, ma’am, we’ll check for—”
“No.” Something made her need to stay with the cowboy. “I should go with Treven.” She struggled to get to her feet, but ended up coughing so hard, she grew dizzy and sank down again.
The fireman helped her sit, then pulled out a tank of oxygen and gave her the face mask to hold over her mouth and nose. “He’ll be here for a bit.” As he took her pulse, he looked from one of her eyes to the other. “We’ll get you over there and you can ride to the hospital with him. You should be checked.”
Taking stock of herself, Delta figured he was right. Her ears rang like she’d stood in front of rock concert speakers for six hours, her lungs burned with each breath, and her throat felt like it’d been coated with sandpaper. Even her nostrils hurt.
“I’m fine, but I will ride in the ambulance with him.” Taking a few deep breaths of pure oxygen, she struggled to her feet.
He assisted her, but held her arm. “You should—”
She pressed the canister into his hands and he tottered back a bit as she stumbled into him in her rush to get to the cowboy.
“Ma’am, wait.”
Ignoring him, she hustled to the ambulance. The white-haired firefighter—who must be a paramedic—hovered over the cowboy who half-sat, half-laid on the gurney inside, and another older man took notes on a clipboard. They’d inserted an IV into Treven’s arm and the cowboy’s eyes were pinched shut.
She stepped up to pull herself inside, and the white-haired paramedic held out a big hand. “Hang on. Let us work here. Have a seat on the bumper for a minute.”
“I’m riding with him.” She tried to make her voice commanding.
Treven’s eyes opened, then widened when he saw her. “You shouldn’t be walking around. You were unconscious for a time.”
White-hair’s blue gaze shot to hers. “She was?” He gestured to his partner. “Help her in, Buzz. Give her a non-rebreather.”
The older man helped Delta climb in and sat her on the bench. He handed her a clear plastic mask on a hose. She unzipped her fire suit and peeled it off her arms. “What can I do to help?”
“Stay out of the way for now.” White-hair set one of Treven’s hands on some kind of plastic sheet-like thing as the older man left the ambulance, closed the doors, and they got rolling.
“Ms. Pennington, I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” Treven gave her a sideways grin.
Her heart gave an extra thump at the sweet cowboy manners, despite what had to be a lot of pain for him. Or had they added pain meds to his IV?
“Please call me Delta.” She forced a smile. “And you’re Treven…?”
The paramedic sighed. “Treven Arnett, meet Delta Pennington.” He gave her a look. “And I’m Clint Black and prefer no jokes about the famous name, please.”
“Not much for bedside manners, is he.” Treven winked at her.
Clint shook his head. “Not much for common sense, Treven. Diving head-first into a burning car.” He rechecked the IV.
Delta had to agree, it’d taken no thought, just bravery and adrenaline for Treven to do what he’d done. “I have to go with the hero theory.” She coughed a few times, then smiled at Treven. “Especially since I was the recipient of…”
Treven’s eyes rolled back and his head dropped to the side. Delta jumped up to grasp his forearm to keep his hand from hitting the rail, but Clint was already there.
“Thanks, ma’am.” The paramedic adjusted Treven so his scorched hand sat on a sterile surface. “Now please, sit down.” He looked back and forth between her eyes. “You’ve had a trauma, and I don’t need you passing out, too.
“Not. Passed. Out.” Treven’s eyes opened. “Just wanted to be able to say that Miss Delta Pennington held my…arm?” He let out a sound that could have been a laugh. “And you went and spoiled it, buddy.”
Delta couldn’t believe how tough this cowboy was.
“Oxygen.” The paramedic pointed to the mask she’d set next to her on the bench. “Take some good deep breaths.” He got busy fitting one on Treven’s face.
“Thanks, Clint.” Treven’s gaze met hers as the two of them sucked in oxygen.
The sweet air helped with the scratch in her throat and the burn in her lungs. And just looking at her hero made her chest flutter with gratitude. He’d risked so much, even though he’d known the pain he’d suffer for it. This man was someone she would never forget, and wanted to get to know.
After a few seconds, she held her mask to the side. “This must be a small town. Everyone knows everyone.”
Clint gestured toward her mask, and she immediately put it back in place. “Treven here, he’s my buddy in the town’s volunteer fire department.”
Treven looked like he was going to fade out again. She pulled her mask away. “That’s what made you risk your life for me. You’re a firefighter.” The knowledge that it was his job didn’t diminish her appreciation one bit.
Shaking his head, Treven turned his green gaze on her. “Partially, ma’am, but there’s another reason. Either way, I’m glad I got the chance to help.”
*
An hour and a half later, Delta sat on the edge of the emergency room bed swinging her cowgirl boots like she would hit the ground running if she could. She wanted to be anywhere but here, but the doctor was slow in grantin
g her a release. Her pit crew chief, Kellan Brody, sat on a chair in the corner, mumbling under his breath.
He’d come to the hospital with her Pennington Racing branded duffle containing her clothes and had someone drive her car in for her, but he’d also brought his suspicious mind, and that was racing in high gear. She’d told him what she could remember from the accident, but her mind was somewhere else. She wanted to go to Treven and see how he was doing.
“You know, Delta, it never should have gone down like that. How the hell did the steering quit just when a mysterious fire burst out?” The older man ran a hand over his mostly-bald head. “Answer me that.”
“I don’t know. There are always freak accidents.” She had just been lucky there was someone close by to get her out. The doctor had said another few seconds in there with no oxygen, and she may not have survived. The guy had been exaggerating—she kept telling herself—but she owed the cowboy her life.
“Delta,” Kellan snapped. “You’re not taking this seriously.”
She flung her hands out to the side, palms toward the ceiling. “Until the crew finds anything out of place, it’s just an accident.”
He stood, his knees cracking. “And last week in Mississippi?”
That busted brake line had been scary as hell. “Again, things happen.”
Pointing a finger at her, he narrowed his gaze. “Not to cars under my watch. And somebody’s ass is going to roll for this.”
She bit her lips to keep from smiling at his mixed metaphor. “Let’s have Uncle Steve run another background check on the pit crew.” She contorted her lips and came up with her cartoon duck voice. “Would that make you happy, Kewwan?”
Kellan’s face turned red. “This isn’t about me, girl. This is about your safety.”
“Sorry.” She used that stupid voice when she was nervous, but it irritated the hell out of nearly everyone she knew.
“You need to remember who—” Kellan groaned as her cell phone rang.
“Hi, Uncle Steve.” She held the phone away from her ear, waiting for the outburst.
“Delta, are you okay?” Her uncle’s voice came through the phone, softer than she’d expected.
“The doctors checked me over, and I’m good.”
He sighed, then went on for a while about safety, about taking precautions, about making sure her car was perfect before she got into it. “And don’t forget, I want a full report of what the area can provide for us. For the project.”
That damn project. She didn’t want to get into it with him now. Not with Kellan in the room and locals wandering through the halls.
“About the car, though. Kellen thinks there might be something more happening.”
“What? What’s going on?”
The nurse walked in with a clipboard. “You’ve got your papers, Ms. Pennington.” She winked at Delta. “And I need your autograph.”
“Listen, I’ve got to do some paperwork here, but call Kellen.” She winked at her crew chief. “He’ll fill you in. Bye.” She hung up before her uncle could start yelling.
“Thanks.” Kellen glared at her before answering his ringing phone. “Yeah, I got a theory. Let me get somewhere private and I’ll call you back.” He hung up on Steven, too.
She grimaced. “He’s not gonna like being cut off by both of us, you know.”
As Delta signed, Kellan snorted. “He sits in that ivory mansion and expects to tell us what to do, when we’re the ones getting’ our hands greasy and risking our lives.” He looked at Delta and his eyes grew shiny.
She smiled at him. “Aw, Kell. I’m fine. You know I’ve got nine lives.”
He grabbed her charred fire suit, set her car keys on the bed next to her, and marched out, mumbling something about ducks and cats.
Delta accepted the release papers from the nurse. “Where is Treven…um…?” She didn’t remember his last name.
“Arnett. He’s in number four.” The other woman gestured to her right and smiled. “He’s one great guy.”
Delta could hear longing in the nurse’s voice. “Are you and he…?”
Her face turned red. “Oh, no. I’m married.” She giggled. “But a girl can still look.” Her face dropped. “I’m sorry. That was…” She turned and nearly ran from the room.
Delta watched her go. “Okay, strange.” She whispered the words as she stood, pocketed her keys in her jeans, then adjusted her Pennington Racing logo T-shirt. She looked in the mirror, finger-combed her hair, and went to find one great guy.
He lay so still in the bed, she wanted to check for a pulse. His hands had been wrapped, and his face had been washed. Delta leaned in closer. One of his auburn eyebrows was completely gone. The thought of how much worse he could have been burned had her sucking in an uneven breath. He’d done it for her. For her. When had anyone done anything that risky for her? Never, that she could recall.
“I can do it tonight.” A male voice came from the hallway. “But I’ve got to be in Fort Worth tomorrow.”
“Okay, I can handle tomorrow, but I won’t get there ’til sometime after noon.”
Delta recognized the voices and moved toward the open door to close it so Treven could sleep. The two men from the track, Clint and the black-haired man who’d helped her, stood looking at calendars on their phones.
“Shit. His horses have to be fed in the morning. What do you think of setting up a schedule online and get the rest of the crew to take a shift?”
“Leave it open, ma’am.” Treven’s voice came from the bed.
She spun to look at him, and met his dark green gaze. “But you need your rest.”
“They’re trying to split up the work on my ranch, and I’d like to hear how they think they can do it.” He shifted, froze with a pained look on his face, then relaxed. “I’m gonna be helpless for a few weeks.”
Delta’s stomach shifted, thinking of the pain, the scars, the vulnerability this man was facing because of her.
He cocked his head and listened as the guys in the hall plotted and planned.
She shook her head. This was her chance to be useful. To make up for all the times she’d run away from her responsibilities and acted like a pouty, rich brat. She could do this. And she was going to, no matter what roadblocks Treven Arnett threw at her.
As an added bonus, she could let her uncle believe she was doing it to help him with his complicated buyout plan. The big jerk.
Stepping to the door, she poked her head out. “Clint? Could you two come in for a minute?”
The blond man’s brows rose, his gaze shot to his friend’s, then he nodded and they followed her back in.
No one spoke. The three men just stared at her.
She pulled in a deep breath, which caught on a soft cough, and stared at the cowboy. “I’m going to take care of Treven and his horses. For as long as he needs help.”
Chapter Two
‡
Treven wished he could use a finger to clear his ears. Delta Pennington wanted to work his ranch while he was laid up? Were the pain meds causing hallucinations?
“You’re what?” his friend Rex said on a laugh.
Delta stepped closer to Rex and held out her hand. “We haven’t been introduced. I’m Delta Pennington, and I appreciate your help back at the racetrack.”
Rex took her hand, his brows dropping. “Rex Tarrow.” His eyes searched hers. “You serious here?”
“Yeah, I’m serious.” She let go of his hand and squared her shoulders, looking back and forth between Rex and Clint. “Any reason why I shouldn’t be?”
Treven held in a laugh. This woman was straightforward, fearless, and so beautiful, he had to keep blinking to reassure himself she was actually breathing the same air as he was.
Clint snorted. “Hay bales that weigh a ton, stalls full of horseshi…” He pursed his lips. “A dozen stalls that need mucking out. Horses that need to be exercised.”
“Worst of all?” Rex gestured toward Treven. “The patient from hell to deal with.�
�
Treven laughed. “Hey, don’t make her change her mind.” He couldn’t think of anything he’d like more than to haul Ms. Pennington home with him and spend some time with her. For one, he admired the hell out of her, and for two, he could easily fall for a woman with her spunk.
She walked toward his bed. “You’re okay with it? I thought you’d be the one I’d have to convince.”
He shrugged, then instantly wished he hadn’t as the motion jostled his hands. “If you’ve got the time, and you don’t mind a little hard work, I’m glad to accept your offer.”
Behind her, Clint and Rex looked at each other, then back at him with wide eyes. Why the hell shouldn’t he let her come help him? She was a grown woman. Grown very attractively, too. Just having her this close to him sent a tightness to his groin, anticipation to his chest.
Of course, she could be looking at him with pity, like he was a weak foal in need of rescue. But he’d spend the next few weeks showing her—without the use of his hands—that he was one heck of a proud stallion. He smiled as the thought sent heat racing through his veins.
Delta frowned. “Are you okay? You look a little flushed.” She blinked a few times.
He shifted to cover the rise in his jeans. “I’m good. Would you press the call button, please? Let’s see when I can get out of here.”
*
Hours later, with a bag full of gauze, ointments, latex gloves, and pain pills, Delta drove her yellow ’67 Shelby Mustang with Treven in the passenger seat to his ranch just outside of town, close to the racetrack. It was the perfect spot for her to make it look like she was only doing this for Pennington Racing, and not because she had a heart and a soul, which her uncle wouldn’t understand.
Driving under an old metal archway proclaiming Rusty Horseshoe Ranch, she smiled. “Cute name.”
He shrugged. “My grandmother’s idea. She and Gramps met when his horse threw a shoe near her ranch outside of Dallas.”
“Romantic.” She pulled to a stop on the gravel driveway in front of a new-looking tan rambler with red shutters and doors. Not what she’d expected at all. “This is nice.” She opened her door and slid out of the car. Looking around, she spotted three barns, corrals with neat white wood fences, and a quonset hut. “How long have you lived here?”