by JoAnn Durgin
Marc smiled, remembering Sam’s rules of marriage and mentally counted off his personal scorecard, content in the knowledge he was doing the best he could to fulfill his wife’s needs. That night, Natalie slept in one of the bedrooms, and he slept on the sofa in the main room, cuddled with Elwood. He barely slept, preoccupied with thoughts of his wife in the next room. It was proving difficult not to open the door separating them and crawl into the bed beside her.
After a relaxing, fun third day spent together, Natalie was regaining her strength and seemed much better. As much as he loved the private time with her—and Sam and Lexa made themselves surprisingly scarce, not to mention the rest of the TeamWork crew—he was growing stir crazy. He told Natalie he needed to help Sam and the other men around the ranch the next morning. She understood, and her eyes alone told him how much she’d enjoyed their time together.
After cuddling together on the sofa later that evening, Natalie rose to her feet. Giving him a look full of meaning, she held out one hand. “Will you come sleep with me tonight, Marc? Just sleep?” Her eyes promised more for the future. Or maybe that was his wishful thinking. A husband could hope. Digging a dog treat from his pocket, he tossed it to Elwood.
Without another word, Natalie led him into the bedroom. Watching as she lowered her robe, his heart raced uncontrollably. She wore his flannel pajama shirt with an enticing glimpse of short, silky boxer shorts underneath. He loved her long, shapely legs and drank his fill as his eyes caressed his wife. She didn’t seem to mind. Dragging his eyes away, he spied the pajama pants on the bed, waiting for him. “His and hers, huh?” As she slipped under the covers, Marc undressed. Her eyes never left his as he shed layer upon layer of clothing. “Too many clothes here in Montana.” Finally stepping out of his jeans, he let them drop in a heap on the floor and pushed them aside with one foot. Skip the flannel. He didn’t need it to keep him warm tonight.
“Won’t you get cold in only your shorts?” Natalie’s eyes devoured his chest.
He savored the obvious desire in her expression. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem tonight.” Dropping onto the bed, he curled himself around her, covering her with his warmth. “Sleeping will be the problem,” he murmured, nuzzling the nape of her neck. “If you want to shed any more layers of clothing, that’s fine by me.”
“I love you, Marc.”
“I love you, too, Natalie,” he whispered. They were quiet for a few minutes before he became aware she moved her hands. Guiding his hand past flannel, she placed it over her heart and held it there, her hand on top of his. His eyes widened as he splayed his fingers over her soft, bare skin, glorying in the moment, feeling the steady beat of her heart, knowing it was also the heartbeat of their daughter. Even though it took everything in him, Marc left his hand where it was, not daring to start anything else. He was thankful her back was turned or he might not be able to resist the temptation. Soon enough. Be patient.
He held her for a long time, cherishing the soft rise and fall of her body in the rhythm of deep sleep. When Natalie turned and faced him, still asleep, he smoothed her hair away from her face. The pajama top was still parted, and he allowed his gaze to linger. Lord, she’s so beautiful. Thank you. Raising his hand, he let it fall back to the sheets. The sight of her would keep him up longer, but it was worth it. If possible, he was more in love with his wife now than the first time around. When sleep finally threatened to overtake him, Marc leaned forward to kiss her. “Good night, sweet Natalie.” Settling his hand on his daughter, he whispered another prayer for her, too.
~~**~~
“That’s a goofy grin if ever I’ve seen one.” Sam worked alongside Marc in the stables the next morning, tending to the horses. The joy in his heart must have been reflected in his eyes, based on his friend’s wry, knowing grin. The man’s smile lines wouldn’t quit.
“Natalie remembered some things.”
“Well, that’s great news. Maybe it’ll trigger more memories, and the floodgates will open.” The hope in Sam’s voice was infectious.
“Yep. That’s my prayer.” Marc grabbed a pitchfork to give Dandelion more hay.
“Judging from the look on your face, I’d say they were really good memories.”
He laughed. “Yeah, one in particular was pretty spectacular, but don’t even go there. It’s not exactly the most . . . masculine . . . memory.”
“Meaning you can’t admit it in the presence of my overwhelming masculinity?” Sam chuckled.
“Something like that since you can be larger than life at times. Not to mention the way you can singlehandedly amuse yourself.”
The manual labor was a great release. A slight pain radiated through his neck and traveled to his shoulders. Tomorrow, he’d rise before dawn to milk the cows again and visit the pesky hens. He didn’t care. Natalie loved him again, so he could face anything. Even ornery Old Charlie.
“Sam, tell me something. Why is it that everything boils down to a certain basic subject?”
A hint of surprise registered in Sam’s narrowed eyes and the corners of his mouth tugged upward. “I take it you’re talking about love and marriage.”
“Marriage and, shall we say, the benefits of marriage.”
“Well, number one, we’re men. Number two, we’re married men. Number three . . .”
“Number three?” This one was bound to be interesting.
“Number three, you’re a newlywed, you’re still waiting, and you’re about to go crazy from the looks of it. But then again, there’s also another very important factor at work here.”
“What’s that?”
“We’re also Christian men. Our needs and wants are fully within the scope of a God-honoring relationship with our wives. Nothing wrong with that.”
Marc shook his head and chuckled. “Only you, Sam Lewis. Only you can talk about sex and the Lord in the same sentence and somehow make it sound totally spiritual. I’m sure Lexa must have to shut you up at times.”
Sam handed him a bucket of oats as they moved along to the next stall together. “Oh, Lexa silences me when it’s called for. In pretty creative ways.”
“Sam?”
“Yes?”
“I’m not as creative as Lexa. But please, if it’s possible, just be quiet. We’ve got a lot of work to do here.” Sharing a grin, they resumed their work.
Chapter 42
Hearing a commotion outside a few days later, Marc opened the cabin door. Sam ran into the middle of the ranch buildings, whistling and calling out to the men. Kevin, Dean and Eliot came running from the area of the barn. Grabbing his jacket and shoving his arms into it, he ran outside to join them.
“We need to head out on the range, men!” Sam shouted, cupping his hands so that his voice carried. The snow fell much heavier, blanketing the ground with a fresh layer of white powder. “The cattle have gotten out of the gates, and Cliff and the others are over at an adjoining ranch. It’s up to us to round them up. More snow’s headed our way, and we’ve got to corral the herd and get them back before the temperature drops much further. If you ride, grab a horse and let’s go!”
The five men ran to the stables. It was a given Marc would ride Dandelion. Ever since that fateful afternoon when he pulled Beck from the creek, he’d faithfully brought treats to the gentle horse each evening—everything from carrots and apples to whatever else they had on hand.
Quickly saddling a black stallion named Majesty, Sam pulled himself onto the horse and tipped his Stetson as he galloped out of the stables first. Marc followed, and the other three men were right behind them as they charged onto the open range, the hooves of the horses making regular patterns in the snow.
It’s beautiful out here, Lord. He pulled alongside Sam. It was a good thing he’d learned to ride when he was a kid visiting his grandparents’ ranch in Colorado. Like riding a bike, it had come right back to him. They rode for ten minutes before they spied the wayward herd of cattle on the outer southern perimeter of the ranch. With renewed vigor, the men
headed toward them. The snow was coming down faster, and they needed to get the job done and get the cattle and themselves back to the ranch. As they neared the herd, Marc’s eyes widened. Sitting like a sheepherding watchdog was Elwood, at full attention, that tail going nonstop, as he looked every bit the taskmaster. He barked and ran back and forth, the sounds carried off by the rising wind. How on earth had he canvassed the ranch and made his way out this far?
“Thanks, Elwood.” Reaching into his pocket, Marc tossed him a dog treat. A wave of affection for the mutt rushed through him. The little guy was a fighter, not afraid of anything. An unbelievably strong gust of wind sent snow swirling about them, momentarily blinding the men. It spooked some of the cattle, and a few started running. And then more. Soon, they were moving faster than Marc could have imagined. His eyes wide and his heart pounding hard in his chest, he looked over at Sam through the falling snow for the other man’s direction.
Stampede! What do we do now?
Gesturing high in the air, Sam indicated he’d take the west side, Marc the opposite, and the other three men the surrounding area. Even though Sam shouted, he couldn’t hear him because of the wind and the sounds of the cattle. Galloping alongside the cattle, Marc cut them off as best he could.
“Elwood, go home!” Glancing down at the ground, he felt desperately afraid for the small dog. A creature that diminutive could easily be lost and trampled by the massive beasts. Even though he loved the mutt, Natalie adored him even more. He couldn’t bear the thought he might be hurt . . . or worse.
With the five men working together, they began to contain the herd in one large circle. Marc strained to glimpse Sam through the blinding snow. The wind had picked up even more, and the sun was beginning to set on the horizon, making visibility more difficult. The temperature must have dropped at least twenty degrees since they’d been out there. Cold, blowing snow burned his eyes, and he blinked hard. When he didn’t spot Elwood, panic began to settle in his gut.
Suddenly, Dandelion unexpectedly bucked, spooked by one of the large creatures or maybe Elwood. Raising high on her hind legs, the horse flailed her legs mid-air, shaking her head from side-to-side, a wild look in her eyes. Struggling to hold on, Marc breathed a prayer and tried to get a grip on the bridle. When Dandelion bucked again, he couldn’t hold on any longer. The world spun around him like mad.
Oh, Lord, I’m slipping . . .
~~**~~
Dandelion bucked in the air, and through the blinding snow swirling about them, Sam witnessed the terrifying sight of Marc tumbling from the saddle and disappearing from sight. “Marc!” He prayed his foot hadn’t gotten tangled in the stirrups. If Dandelion dragged him, the consequences could be horrendous. Still, it might not be much better for his friend if he was on the ground with the massive beasts surging all around him. He had to get to him.
“Marc!” Sam called. “Guys, go after the cattle and round them up as best you can. I’ll take care of Marc. Kevin, call Lexa on the radio and tell her to come to the southwest side of the ranch. Now!” They waved and he turned Majesty full circle and galloped over to where he’d last seen Marc and Dandelion. The herd had slowed, and the other men could round them up and head them back in the direction of the ranch without too much trouble.
Under his breath, Sam released a prayer of thankfulness for those good, selfless men. It was difficult to find dedicated men in times of hardship, and his TeamWork guys more than filled the need. Just as they’d helped him fight the fires at the houses they were building in San Antonio, they rallied to his side now to do whatever was needed to bring the situation under control.
“Marc!” Sam continued to shout his name several times, pushing his way through the remaining cattle as quickly as he could, praying all the way for the Lord’s mercy. “God be with us.” Dandelion stood to one side, but Marc was nowhere in sight. “Marc, where are you?” Sam shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth so his voice would carry further. His eyes canvassed the large expanse of the ranch property within range, searching for a sign or glimpse of his friend. Impatiently pushing the falling snow away from his eyes, his eyes widened in horror as he finally spied Marc’s prone figure lying flat on his back about fifteen yards away. Elwood was sprawled on top of him, licking his face.
As he rushed to Marc’s side, Sam breathed a sigh of relief he looked fine . . . except for the fact he wasn’t moving. Sam’s breath caught in his throat as he reined in Majesty and jumped to the ground. Maybe he’d been foolish to bring untrained men out on the range, but Cliff had called on him, needing their help. The Lord had a plan in all of this, but if anything happened to this man . . .
Falling to his knees, Sam pulled the small dog off Marc’s chest. He leaned close and listened for signs of breathing. Not getting any response, he picked up his wrist. He detected a faint pulse, but his fingers were so cold it was difficult to tell. Internal bleeding was always a possibility in a stampede situation. After a quick assessment, he saw no outward, visible sign of a hoofprint or any sign that one of the beasts had trampled him. He had an important but split-second decision: if he performed CPR and Marc had internal bleeding, it could make it much worse, perhaps even prove fatal. On the other hand, CPR might be the only way to save his friend’s life. It wasn’t a choice.
Lord, I need Your guiding hand on me now.
Quickly unzipping Marc’s jacket, he ripped apart his shirt. Buttons flew, landing in the blinding whiteness of the fresh snow. Pushing the shirt aside, Sam cried out as he found yet another layer of cotton. Long johns. Ripping the cotton thermal shirt right down the middle, the fabric tore under his hands, revealing an undershirt. Tearing through it, he finally reached Marc’s bare chest.
Tilting his head back and pinching his nose, Sam gave him a couple of quick, resuscitating breaths. Putting the heels of both hands on Marc’s chest, one on top of the other, he began to apply steady, rhythmic pressure. His mind raced, and he closed his eyes to concentrate, trying to recall all his medical emergency training. Alternating between breaths and compressions, he prayed he wouldn’t break Marc’s sternum in the process, but it was a small price to pay if it saved his friend’s life.
Sam’s prayers intermingled with his falling tears, but he couldn’t stop to brush them away.
“Come on, buddy. Respond!” He put his head against Marc’s chest every few seconds and listened for signs of breathing. “Come on. God, please!” Sam’s guttural cry came from the deepest part of him as he kneeled on the snow, beseeching the heavenly Father to spare the life of this man.
“Marc Thompson, you did not come out here to reconnect with your wife only to lose your life,” he said, swiping away his tears as he worked over his friend. He had to keep going. If he received no response soon, all would be lost. He wouldn’t—he couldn’t—take that chance. Sam shook his head, banishing unbidden, haunting thoughts. He wouldn’t be able to bear telling Natalie her husband . . . . The mere thought of it was unthinkable and shook him to his core. He increased his efforts, watching Marc closely all the while.
Lord, I need your help. Please hear my prayer.
Chapter 43
It wasn’t working. Every precious second counted. Preparing him for more quick breaths, Sam tilted Marc’s head back and pinched his nose, leaning forward. Relieved as he heard a soft groan, Sam continued his compressions, feverishly working the heel of his hand on Marc’s chest.
Finally, Marc responded. Coughing and sputtering, his body jerked and arched in the air as he turned his head one way and then the other before gagging and sputtering some more. They were among the best sounds Sam had ever heard, and he watched for a few seconds before he gathered Marc close. Sitting with him cradled in his arms, leaning the other man back against him, Sam periodically checked his pulse while lifting prayers of thanks.
When Marc opened his eyes, Sam moved around to his side. “Hello, buddy. Welcome back.”
Marc’s eyes shot open, and he released a faint but audible moan. “You come any clo
ser, Sam Lewis, and I’ll deck you from here to Texas.”
“Too late.”
Marc groaned again. “I don’t even want to know.” He struggled in a vain attempt to sit up before collapsing back against Sam in exhaustion. “Guess I had the wind knocked out of me,” he rasped, looking up at Sam with a wan grin. “Thanks for being here, friend.”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
On the horizon, Sam glimpsed headlights from an approaching SUV. Knowing it was Lexa, he maintained his position. Natalie was right beside her. Crying out in alarm, both women jumped out of the vehicle and ran toward them through the snow.
~~**~~
Natalie leaned close and looked over at Sam with large, frightened eyes. “I know CPR,” she said, taking Marc’s wrist to check his pulse. His eyes were closed. He looked so tired, so pale. She smoothed a strand of blond hair off his face. “What happened? Is he okay?” She looked in the eyes of their TeamWork leader and appreciated the reassurance she saw reflected there.
“Natalie, trust me, he’s all yours. He’s going to be fine. Just had the wind knocked out of him.” When Sam moved over, Natalie positioned herself so she could hold her husband. He moaned and his eyelids fluttered open. He blinked hard once, twice, three times. She nodded at Sam, and he rose to his feet and walked over to Lexa.
As Natalie hugged Marc close, she watched Sam pull Lexa into his arms and lean his head against hers. “You scared me, Mr. Thompson,” she said, cupping his face between her gloved hands. His eyes closed before fluttering fully open again. He coughed a few more times, and his body shuddered with the effort. “You didn’t have to get yourself nearly killed in order to get my attention, you know.” Squeezing her eyes tight, Natalie kissed his cold lips and nuzzled his cheek. She needed to warm him, but she also had to get him into the warmth of the car and then to the ranch.