Wild Horse Springs

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Wild Horse Springs Page 10

by Jodi Thomas


  This tenderhearted one was missing most of her front teeth and didn’t seem to care as she smiled at him. Before he could ask her name, the door opened.

  “I said you could look at him, girls, not talk to him,” a familiar voice whispered as if he wasn’t wide-awake. “Now say goodbye. Your rides are waiting just beyond the double doors.”

  Cody wanted to look at the woman he’d talked to last night. Tess, she’d said when he’d asked for her name.

  But moving his head seemed far too much effort. He knew her voice, her touch, but he couldn’t remember seeing her face clearly.

  One by one the girls patted his unbandaged arm. Melanie warned him to stay still and Marjorie told him to keep breathing. The rest just said goodbye. The one without front teeth was crying again.

  Cody closed his eyes when silence settled around him. He tried to piece together all that had happened last night. He’d been in a dark mood over nothing really, more than halfway drunk and needing to feel adrenaline pounding through his body. He’d climbed on a horse, half wild on a calm day, and they’d raced along the canyon’s edge as if they both thought they were immortal.

  A warm hand brushed his forehead, moving back what was surely muddy and dirty hair. Cody knew the park ranger named Tess was still in the room. He’d felt her touch before.

  “Did you find my horse?”

  Her voice was low. “Two other rangers and I went over to your place at dawn thinking we’d find her dead at the bottom of that canyon you flew over, but apparently she’d been smart enough not to take the flight. When we drove up to your house, I spotted a black horse you would call Midnight standing outside the corral in the shelter of trees. She looked tired and hungry, but unharmed and still saddled.”

  Cody lay his hand over hers resting on his chest, now covered in white gauze, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. “Thanks. I was worried about her. She’s about the only friend I have left.”

  When she huffed, he added, “You know the kind. A friend who doesn’t hesitate to come along on any crazy thing you want to do. The kind who’ll never tell you to slow down. The kind who’ll watch you get drunk and never say a word.”

  “No, Winslow, I don’t have that friend and you don’t either. Midnight is a horse.”

  “She’s smarter than most buddies I’ve had.”

  Tess pulled her hand away. “I’ve no doubt. If either of you had had any brains, you wouldn’t have been racing along the canyon edge after dark.”

  Cody decided he’d be wise to stop talking. He was dropping IQ points with every word. He leaned back against his pillow and listened while she gave, what he was sure was, her planned lecture.

  “We went into your barn and fed all your horses. You keep a very organized barn, Mr. Winslow.”

  Cody wondered when he’d become Mr. Winslow to her. He’d thought they’d be on a first-name basis by now. After all, she’d pretty much felt every part of his body, and she had kissed him goodbye when they’d lifted him on the chopper.

  “I wasn’t sure what kind of shape you’d be in this morning, so I called the sheriff’s office over at Crossroads and left a message.” She continued her report. “The secretary said she’d find someone to feed the horses tomorrow if you didn’t call in saying you’d made arrangements for them. I couldn’t see much difference between the pigpen and your house, so I asked if the sheriff knew someone who could clean both. For a man who takes such good care of his horses, you’d think you’d at least make an effort at housekeeping.”

  She was at the top of his bed, and he was hurting too bad to even try to look up at her. Besides, what could he say? She was right. The only things he kept in working order were the barn and corrals. He hadn’t even bothered to fix the gate. Who’d want to turn into his place anyway?

  Only he didn’t like being reminded of his problems. She’d probably think he was completely mad if he told her that some nights he slept in the barn. The horses’ low noises kept the demons away.

  She added in a soft tone, as if just remembering he was hurt and shouldn’t be lectured, “Your house will be clean when you get out of here. The pigs are out of luck.”

  “You taking over my life, Tess?” he asked.

  “Somebody needs to, Winslow. You don’t seem to be doing a very good job of it right now.” A slight laugh took any harshness out of her words. “The mailman even stopped me when I was trying to close the broken gate into your place. He told me you haven’t bothered to pick up your mail in over a month.” As she moved to his side, her hand slid along his arm. Her touch was featherlight and comforting even if her words were not.

  He frowned and braced himself as he opened one eye. Any woman this bossy had to be as ugly as hell. Maybe the lantern’s light last night had favored what little he saw of her face. The jack-o’-lantern glow might be her best look.

  The shock brought him fully awake. She was taller than he thought she’d be. No makeup. Chestnut-brown hair tied back at the base of her neck and honey-brown eyes. She wasn’t the kind of woman he’d ever try to pick up in a bar, and she wasn’t the sweet, meek kind his mother used to introduce him to every time he came home. She had an intelligent stare, and light freckles crossed the bridge of her nose. There were tiny lines at the corners of her eyes when she smiled. His grandmother would have said she was a “handsome” woman, but nothing about Tess Adams was soft or simply pretty.

  She leaned closer. “You all right? You got that eyes-fixin’-to-roll-back-in-your-head look about you.”

  He stared at her and took her measure. She was younger than he thought when he’d first seen her in shadow, but he knew without any doubt that she’d grow old gracefully. Tess Adams was a strong woman who didn’t look like she needed someone to take care of her, and that one trait drew him to her. In fact, he found it as sexy as hell.

  He had a feeling if he ever stepped out of line with her, she’d knock him to the floor before he saw it coming. “I’m great, honey. Thanks for saving my life.”

  She sat on the edge of his bed. “I believe you would have crawled out of the canyon and lived if I hadn’t been there to help. You could have called a neighbor or friend, and they’d have eventually found you and carried you home.”

  “I don’t have a cell phone, and I don’t know my neighbors.”

  “Let me guess, you don’t have a friend either,” Tess added.

  “I do have a few left, but they’re all in Austin and probably barely remember me. I haven’t called them in months.” He almost added that some were dead, but he didn’t want to explain.

  She frowned at him. “You obviously don’t have any brains either. Riding on a night when rain is turning to snow. Telling no one where you’re going. Not being able to contact anyone if you hit trouble. Which you did.”

  His head was throbbing, but he decided offense was the only way to go. “At least I wasn’t down in the bottom of the canyon with a bunch of little girls. What kind of parents send their kid off with a ranger who forgot to check the weather?”

  She took the criticism. “You’re right. I should have gotten them out an hour earlier, but I hoped the rain would wait until the stars were bright. They’re unbelievable in that spot.”

  “If you hadn’t waited, no one would have found me. And you’re right, I would have crawled out, but I might not have made it back to my house before freezing. So thanks, Tess. I mean it.”

  She patted his hand. “I’m glad I was there. I have a confession. I looked you up on the internet. Saw lots of articles about you from three years ago. Those bullet holes on your chest came from a battle with drug runners down at the tip of Texas. You were left for dead then.”

  He saw caring in her honey eyes and looked away. He didn’t need sympathy or worse, pity. He’d seen enough of that to last a lifetime. He’d rather face the demons alone than put up with someone smot
hering him.

  “I guess I was too mean to die.” He might not be looking at her, but his fingers folded around her hand. “One of your little girls told me I needed to stop cussing if I want to get into heaven. I learned three years ago that neither heaven nor hell seems to want me.”

  “Maybe you just need direction, Winslow. Maybe you should get married. That seems to give most men direction. You shouldn’t have any trouble, not with those steel-blue eyes, and there are women who wouldn’t care that you don’t have any social skills.”

  “I don’t take to a lead rope, Tess. It’s not my way. But if I was the kind of man to settle down, it’d be with a woman like you.” He almost grinned. She might be bossing him around and pointing out his faults, but at least she wasn’t crying or patting on him like he was a lame horse they were about to put down.

  “Like me?” She pulled her hand away. “I don’t think so. I’m the kind of woman who never really got into dating and lives alone with her cats. I’m taller than most men, smarter by half and don’t play the games women play.”

  He frowned. He didn’t see her that way at all. Sure, she had no makeup or fancy hairstyle, but she didn’t need it. “How many you got?”

  “How many what? Dates?”

  “No, cats.”

  “Three.”

  “Any other pets? Fish, birds, rattlesnakes?”

  “No. Why?”

  “I want to ask you out on a date. A real date, Tess, even if you advise against it.”

  When she didn’t say no right away, Cody continued. “Not one of those ‘having a drink or cup of coffee’ as friends date. I want to pick you up and take you to the best place I can find for dinner. I want to stand on your front porch and kiss you good-night and then walk away knowing that next time you’ll invite me in.”

  “You do have a death wish, don’t you? I’ve already told you I’m not the kind of girl who does well on dates.” She studied him. “All right. You get out of this hospital and we’ll have a date. But I should warn you, you do anything inappropriate and I’ll break your other leg.”

  “How about I promise not to do anything you don’t love?” He covered her hand again, deciding he liked hanging on to her.

  “All right, but it’s been my experience that I am terrible when it comes to men. My prom date brought me home at nine, then went back to the dance.”

  “Tell me all the bad experiences you got, Tess. It’s not going to change my mind. We’re still going out.” Cody made up his mind. He was taking her out.

  She shook her head. “I can’t stay here and argue with a man too weak to stand and too dumb to stop talking. I have to go. Visits in this wing are limited to fifteen minutes. I’ll save all the other horror stories about dating for our evening together you seem to think we’re going to have, but I’m telling you right now, I’m only ordering appetizers until I see how long you can last.”

  “Fair enough. Maybe I’ll still be on drugs, and it won’t sound so bad.”

  She laughed, and he decided he loved her laughter even if he did hate cats.

  He closed his hand around her fingers. “Kiss me goodbye, Tess.”

  “What?” She looked more like she was thinking of hitting an injured man. Him.

  “You heard me. Kiss me before you go. On the mouth, not the cheek this time.”

  “Why?”

  “I want to feel your lips. Come on. My mouth is about the only part of this body that isn’t swollen, bruised or broken.” He let go of her hand. If she was going to run, so be it.

  “All right. Why not.” She leaned over and kissed him on the mouth. A soft kiss that lingered too long to just be friendly.

  When she straightened, he whispered, “See you tomorrow, honey.”

  “When you heal, I’m going to slug you for calling me that.” She moved to the door, but she was smiling.

  “As long as you’re around, I won’t care.” He smiled. “It wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  Tess brushed her fingertips over her lips. “No, it wasn’t.”

  “We’ll practice some more later.” He swore he saw a blush just below her freckles.

  She disappeared, and a moment later a nurse came in with a cupful of pills. “Nice-looking visitor you’ve got there, Mr. Winslow.”

  “She’s my wife,” he said. “But don’t tell anyone. We’re keeping it a secret for a while.”

  The nurse crossed her heart with the thermometer, and Cody knew without a doubt she’d spread the news as soon as she left the room. By noon tomorrow it will have reached Crossroads that the loner, former Texas Ranger out on Wild Horse Springs had married the park ranger. The next time he went to town, he’d see it in their eyes and they’d smile at him, silently telling him they were keeping his secret.

  Except when the whole town kept your secret, it wasn’t much of a secret.

  Tess was probably going to drag him to the canyon herself and toss him over when she found out. If they did see much of each other, he predicted death threats in his future coming in regular intervals until they got this marriage lie straightened out.

  But until then, folks would be looking at her in a different light.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  BRANDI TRIED TO go back to sleep after the sheriff left, but it was useless. She’d lost his warmth next to her, and she was shocked at just how much she missed it.

  She didn’t want to ask herself why he’d felt so right, but Dan Brigman had. From the first kiss a few days ago to holding her all night long, this stranger had simply stepped into her life as if he’d been there all along. When he’d knelt to help her on with her boot a few minutes after they’d met, she’d known he was different from any man she’d ever encountered.

  She’d noticed the sheriff was exhausted last night and hadn’t minded when he fell asleep. It told her one simple fact: he felt safe with her, just as she did with him. Maybe she simply needed him near last night. Any more might have been too much for her to handle, but this morning she knew one night would never be enough.

  In a way, sleeping with him seemed far more personal than just having sex. In her traveling days years ago, she’d had sex now and then, but she’d never stayed the night with anyone. Unless she counted the drummer who once passed out in her bed by accident. She’d watched him snore until he sobered up enough to lean over the side of the bed and throw up. Then at dawn he’d muttered “sorry” as he patted her on the bottom and left. She hadn’t bothered to remember his face or name, but the smell of whiskey vomit sometimes lingered in her nose.

  She laughed, remembering how he’d bragged to the band about sleeping with her, leaving out the part that he’d been passed out the entire time. Most of the guys she’d known back then were either jerks or potheads, or both. It was refreshing to meet an adult male who was simply too tired to stay awake, and she had no doubt that the sheriff would never say a word to anyone about their night together.

  Brandi wrapped up in her blankets and drifted, half asleep, half dreaming. So much for memories of the wild life she thought she’d lived after she’d run away from home at eighteen. Mostly it was long nights of working for little money, or worse, tips. Then hoping the band had enough gas to make it to the next town.

  There had been a few memories of hurried sex in bar bathrooms or the back of cars. She could never remember taking off all her clothes, and not one of the parade of boys during her traveling years had ever touched her as Dan had this morning.

  He treated her like a treasure almost too precious to touch. They’d both known they were stealing a few minutes, but he took his time. He made her feel cherished. No one had ever done that before.

  Not her family, or any guy she’d met on tour, or Evie’s father. She did remember his dark good looks, his rush to live fully, his fist against her cheek.

  The last time sh
e saw Marty, the man who got her pregnant, he had accused her of trying to force him to grow old. He’d yelled that the last thing he wanted was a baby to drag around on tour. Her heart shattered as she realized he wasn’t half the man he pretended to be. He was simply a frightened boy. She’d mistaken recklessness for adventure and lust for love.

  He was right about one thing though: the pregnancy made her grow up that morning, while he’d shrunken to spider height. She’d decided to become an adult that day, even if it meant going back home and giving up on her dream to sing.

  Marty simply moved on, giving her up without looking back.

  Reaching into the nightstand drawer, she pulled out Evie’s baby picture. She’d had her father’s eyes, big and coffee brown. The picture had been taken before Brandi knew something was terribly wrong with her beautiful little girl. Brandi thought of the photo as her sunny-day picture. All the rest were shadow days. Hospital shots with birthday cakes on a tray table in front of her frail body or Christmas collages of the staff smiling around a child slowly dying.

  The last picture she hadn’t kept. It had been framed by a hospital hallway with all the doctors and nurses wearing green scrubs as they pushed her nine-year-old into surgery. Brandi hadn’t known it then, but her only child’s eyes already reflected death in their depths that day.

  “Morning, angel,” Brandi whispered, even though Evie had been gone fourteen months. She’d never grow up. She’d never have children or another birthday. Evie would never laugh, or smile, or hold her mother’s hand again.

  She’d give it all up again, the freedom, the career, just to have one more day to hold her daughter. One more hour to hold her so maybe her arms would stop aching.

  Sometimes Brandi thought her little girl hadn’t died, she’d simply let go of her hand. Once, she’d reached out in the night as if a little hand might be waiting just beyond. When she felt nothing, grief flowed into her heart as if new.

 

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