Counting on a Cowboy

by Debra Clopton

  “Thank you for coming,” she said. “I was in a bad place and you’ve helped.”

  “Good.” He dug his spoon into the rich ice cream then winked as he plopped the spoonful into his mouth.

  She took a bite of hers, hoping it tasted half as good as he’d made his appear.

  “What makes Abby Knightley tick?” he asked out of the blue. “I’d really like to know who you are when the heavy load you carry isn’t weighing you down.”

  She’d just taken another bite of her chocolate and marshmallow mixture. She swallowed, her thoughts stilling as she tried to think of the person he was asking about. What did that girl, that woman, enjoy doing?

  “Come on, spill. What makes you smile? Me, when I’m not working on my stirrups I like to ride horses, I like to do a little two-stepping on occasion. Do you like to dance?” He cocked his head and showed her a dimple when he smiled.

  Abby set her spoon back in the bowl, suddenly imagining being in Bo’s arms dancing the two-step . . . if she danced. “Well, I’ve never two-stepped . . . I’ve worked. I read.” Until that moment she hadn’t really thought about how few hobbies she had.

  “You seriously don’t like to dance?”

  “I didn’t say I don’t like it, I said I never had. It all comes back to work. Everything I did was geared toward getting me ahead in the company.”

  “Then we are going to have to fix that. I’m taking you out dancing one night—” Bo’s phone rang, the ringtone sounding like an alarm. He was standing instantly, pulling the phone from its harness, and he listened briefly.

  “Hold that thought. I gotta run. There’s a fire,” he said as he punched the button and put the phone back to his ear.

  Abby was standing too. “What can I do?” she asked, following him through the house as he hurried toward the front door.

  “Nothing, just hang tight. I’ll call you later.”

  Abby knew he was on the volunteer fire department. “But you could get hurt—”

  “I’ll be fine. We may be volunteers, but we have great training. Don’t worry.”

  “But where is it?”

  And he was gone. Abby couldn’t help worrying as she watched him jog to his truck and drive away in the direction of downtown.

  Suddenly, Rand entered her front yard. He didn’t look good. He came straight toward her, weaved slightly as he came.

  “I need you to drive me.”

  “What?”

  He glared at her. “I need you to drive me or I’m getting in my car and driving myself—Pebble’s motel is on fire.”

  “Pebble’s? But how do you—”

  “I have a scanner for the paper, so I hear everything. Now are you driving me or am I?”

  24

  Abby raced inside her house and grabbed her purse, searching through it for the keys to her car as she ran back outside. Rand was already in the passenger seat.

  “Come on, drive. Pebble needs me.”

  “I am,” she said, cranking the car and backing out of the drive.

  “Punch it. Go, go, go,” Rand yelled as she rammed the shifter into drive.

  “Hey, I’m just as worried as you are,” she yelled back and stomped the gas. “So hold your horses, fella.”

  She was now not just worried about Bo, she was worried about Pebble.

  “Oh, no,” Rand said, gripping the dashboard as the motel came into view. It was dark, but even in the moonlight there was a white cloud rising above the main office. Pebble’s apartment was in that building.

  She slowed as the fire truck pulled ahead of them, sirens blaring. She followed it into the parking lot, pulling to the curb. Rand already had his door open, and though he stumbled, he managed to keep his balance and run toward the fire truck. Abby followed him, amazed at how agile and quick he was, even in what must be his early sixties . . . and drunk.

  She’d had no questions about why he’d asked her to drive him. He’d gotten drunk after the upset in his yard today. She reached the fire truck, which blocked her view of the motel. As she reached it cars and people continued to gather nearby. It was hard to make everyone out in the darkness but she saw who she thought was Jarrod and Bo in the glow of the lights. It was hard to tell from behind with his gear, but then she caught Bo’s profile. There was no mistaking him. He and the other man, who she was pretty certain was Jarrod, entered the building. Jarrod must have made it back from his trip. At least she knew the two brothers would have each other’s back. Another man stepped in front of Rand, stopping him as he raced toward the building. It was obvious that he was telling him to back away. Rand was not happy. For a small man he bowed up pretty good. Abby’s attention shifted back to the door that Bo had disappeared through. Flames could now be seen shooting from the roof—her heart pounded.

  “Pebble!”

  Abby whirled as Clara Lyn came barreling out of her car where she’d run it up on the curb and left her door open. Abby reacted to the woman racing past her by reaching for her. She did not need to go inside. Abby knew this, because she wanted to go inside with all her heart.

  “Bo and Jarrod are in there, Clara. They’ll bring her out.” Abby knew this was true. Bo would bring Pebble out.

  It seemed like hours were ticking by instead of minutes. Suddenly there was a huge crash and part of the roof fell in. Seconds later a fireman appeared through the flames and smoke with Pebble in his arms. It was Jarrod. The EMTs raced forward for Pebble. Abby’s hand went to her throat—where was Bo?

  Abby could barely hold herself up as thoughts of waking up with EMTs looking down at her after the wreck slammed into her—a kaleidoscope of lights merging as she faded in and out, her mind fuzzy as the question, “Where’s Landon?” kept dying on her lips, darkness pulling her back.

  Now, all she could think about was Bo.

  Where was Bo?

  The lone fireman picked his fire hose up and headed back inside the building dousing the flames as he did. Another fireman raced inside with his own hose, joining the fight. They were going back for Bo.

  The fireman who had held Rand up was telling everyone to get back. And only then did Abby realize that Clara Lyn had joined Rand beside the gurney that they’d strapped Pebble to. They were administering oxygen to the sweet lady and that was at least a good sign that she was alive.

  But what about Bo?

  A moment later one of the firemen appeared from the flames—one was supporting Bo, who was moving on his own but barely. As soon as they were clear of the building, Bo collapsed . . .

  The Kerrville hospital’s emergency room was packed despite it being nearly midnight. Chaos reigned as word spread that Pebble and Bo were in the hospital.

  “How are they?” Reba Ann yelled as she came rushing in through the doors. Her hair was in clips and there were hints of green facial mask still scattered over her face.

  “They’re okay,” Clara Lyn assured her shrilly, still as hyper as she’d been when Abby had driven her to the hospital. Clara Lyn had been in no condition to drive, since she was so worried about her longtime friend. Abby had been upset, too, but both Clara Lyn and Rand had needed her to drive them.

  “Bo got hit in the head by a beam, then pinned beneath it when he was getting Pebble out. Thankfully Jarrod got her out then went back for Bo. He’s got a concussion and a dislocated shoulder.”

  “Oh, no,” Reba gasped. “But he’s okay, praise God. And Pebble. How’s Pebble?” She looked from Clara Lyn to Abby.

  “She’s fine. She inhaled a lot of smoke and they are going to keep her overnight and hopefully she will get to go home tomorrow. But there is a chance they’ll keep her for a couple of days. She was so lucky. God was watching out for her.”

  “How did it happen?”

  “We don’t know. But Jarrod thinks it was electrical. He’s going back to figure it out after he checks on Bo.”

  “I can’t believe it, just can’t believe it.” Reba shook her head.

  Rand stood out near the hallway, looking worried but so
ber. Abby had seen him talk with Jarrod before he’d gone back to check on Bo. Since Jarrod was the volunteer fire chief and Rand was the lone newspaper reporter for the town, they must have a lot of discussions after a fire in order for Rand to report in the paper. She assumed that no fire had ever been quite so personal to either of them.

  Abby’s nerves were keyed up even though they knew everyone was going to be okay.

  Tru had come in not long after they’d made it to the hospital and he’d told her that Maggie had stayed home with Levi and Pops.

  Doobie and Doonie had shown up, too, along with several other people that she hadn’t met. The nurses finally came in and said that since both patients were in stable condition, everyone needed to go home and get some rest and come back during visiting hours.

  Bo had had a very close call tonight. Even now, lying in bed staring up at the ceiling, it made her stomach sour just thinking about it. What if something had happened to him? Levi would have lost not only his mother but his father by the time he was little over a year old.

  Abby closed her eyes at the thought. She knew if that had happened, Maggie and Tru would have instantly stepped in but . . . but what?

  Bo was her friend. It was true, somewhere in the few weeks that she’d lived in Wishing Springs he had become her friend . . . and she was worried about him.

  A chill came over Abby and she pulled her covers tighter about her . . . but it didn’t help.

  Pebble opened her eyes at the soft swoosh of her hospital door—it had been a revolving door since she’d arrived. Which was nice, her friends were just worried about her. But she felt adrift . . . and she wasn’t sure why. She’d been feeling that way even before the fire. But the day after waking up in the hospital it had been worse. She’d glimpsed Rand in the crowd that had gathered around her at the fire, before she’d passed out and been transported to the hospital.

  And the tortured worry in his eyes still haunted her.

  “Pebble, are you awake?” a familiar voice asked gently. Rand.

  Her heart thudded erratically. “I’m awake,” she called, giving him a small smile. “You didn’t have to come by. I know you’ve got a paper to get out.”

  He came closer and set a vase full of fall flowers on the table beside her. “I needed to deliver these to you and just make sure you were doing good.”

  “I am. Thanks to Bo and Jarrod I’m going to live at least another day.” She coughed, something she’d be doing for a while, the doctor had explained.

  Rand rushed to pour her a cup of water and handed it to her. Their fingers touched as she took it and she felt weaker suddenly than she had. “Thank you,” she managed, keeping her eyes down. Pebble had been worried for a while now about the feelings she had for Rand. It wasn’t healthy and she knew it. He had a drinking problem. Yes, it seemed to be linked to times when she disappointed him. And that wasn’t good in any way.

  She and Cecil had had a wonderful, uncomplicated life. She’d loved him with all her heart—she’d chosen him. But she’d loved Rand too. A long time ago.

  He’d been complicated back then too. When they were in high school, he’d taken too many risks, loved motorcycles, and drank some, not that she knew how much, just that he did. Pebble had been raised by Christian parents who hadn’t allowed drinking and she had been fine with that, as she hung out with a like-minded crowd. Rand had found a rowdier one.

  Falling for him had happened innocently enough, and had startled her, it was so unlikely. They’d been lab partners her junior year. He’d been so gentle and kind anytime he was around her, despite her not liking his lifestyle.

  And then one day, she’d had a flat and he’d stopped and helped her. And they’d talked.

  They’d met sometimes after that. Not making a big deal of it at school. It hadn’t been meant to be secretive, but looking back on it, she knew she’d not wanted anyone to know.

  Her parents wouldn’t have been happy. And to be honest, if she’d let her heart lead her, she had no idea what kind of life they would have had.

  She’d stopped the meetings before summer, realizing her feelings and knowing, fearing, he felt the same way. Rand had left after that and she’d heard he’d joined the navy.

  She’d been brokenhearted over the whole thing.

  And then, after a miserable summer a new boy had moved to town . . . and Cecil had been everything she’d ever dreamed of. He enjoyed living a simple, steady life like Pebble and she’d fallen for him completely . . . but she’d never forgotten Rand.

  Pebble drew her mind back to Rand.

  “Pebble, I’ve given drinking up. Completely.”

  “Rand—”

  “I drink some, sometimes more than I should. But I’m changing. As of last night. I’ve been weak. I understand that now. But only when we’ve argued, or I’m worried about us.”

  Tears threatened to spill but she blinked them away. “Oh, Rand.” She shook her head and looked down, hardening her resolve before lifting her gaze to meet his pleading eyes. “I can’t . . .” she said, her heart as heavy as her breath. “You blame me for your drinking—” Coughing hit her and she couldn’t speak. His words had hurt.

  “Pebble . . .” Rand gently lifted her hand and wrapped her fingers around the glass he’d given her earlier. He helped her take a sip before she replaced the oxygen mask over her face.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said, then called the nurse.

  And then he left.

  Pebble watched him go and her heart broke all over again.

  25

  Bo hated hospitals. He hadn’t slept well and had been sitting with his legs dangling off the edge of the bed wearing his hospital gown more than ready to put on his pants—if Jarrod would hurry up and get here with them.

  The last person he expected to see walk in carrying his duffle bag was Abby but that was exactly who came in with it. “What are you doing here?”

  “Um, well—” she started, then stuttered as her gaze fell on his bare legs. A smile tickled the edge of her lips. “Well, well, cowboy, looks like missing your trip to the beach this summer has made you grumpy.”

  He scowled and looked down at his white legs. Great. Just great. Abby seeing him dressed in a hospital gown, barefooted and—it wasn’t exactly the picture of him he wanted in her mind. “Funny, real funny.”

  “I thought so, hero.” She walked over and gently set the bag on the bed beside him. “Jarrod sent these to you and said everything you’d need was in there.”

  “Why are you picking me up?”

  “It’s my day to keep Levi, but Jarrod had a cow down or something like that. And Tru and Maggie are packing.”

  “Packing?”

  “Yes, something has come up and they’re having to leave a week early, so they asked me if I could pick you up while they got ready. I think they’re leaving in the morning.”

  “But Jarrod’s leaving in the morning.” Bo reached for the zipper on his bag and winced as pain shot through him from the broken collarbone.

  “Are you okay?” Abby asked, cringing.

  “I’m fine. I just keep forgetting I have a broken collarbone.”

  “Here let me open that for you.”

  Bo watched her as she unzipped the bag. She smelled so good, he inhaled deeply and for the moment forgot his shoulder was killing him.

  “Here you go.” Her brow knitted as she looked at his sling. “Are you going to be able to get dressed with that arm in the sling? Do I need to call a nurse?”

  “I can manage,” he grunted.

  “Then I’ll step outside.”

  Once Abby closed the door, Bo pulled his pants from the bag with his left hand. Now how was he going to function with his right arm strapped to his body? And with strict directions not to lift anything at the risk of damaging the bone further and requiring surgery? If it was his left arm it wouldn’t be so bad. But it wasn’t.

  The nurse stuck her head into the room when he had one leg in.

  “Need help?”r />
  “No,” he yelled, feeling about as nice as a grizzly bear. He was going to have a talk with his brothers when he got home. He managed to get the other leg into the pants while he was sitting in a chair, but the hard part was standing up and getting the jeans up around his hips without tripping over the blamed things and breaking his neck. If that part was hard, he hadn’t even tried getting his pullover on.

  He was breathing hard by the time a knock sounded on the door and his doctor walked in.

  “Ah, you’re dressed. Good for you.”

  “If you can call it that,” Bo growled. He had one arm through the sleeve and then he’d managed to get the shirt pulled down over his incapacitated right shoulder and left it there. He’d walk out of the hospital looking like he had one arm. There was no way of getting this pullover over a fractured collar bone. “How long do I have to wear this?”

  The doctor closed his chart. “It’s just minimally displaced, but you’ll need to keep it stable for ten to fourteen days. And no lifting for three weeks. Then, you should be able to resume activities as long as you don’t overdo it. We’ll let you go home today. Call my office to set up an appointment in a week.”

  Bo watched the doctor leave . . . he had a problem. A big problem. How was he going to take care of Levi while his brothers ran off and abandoned him?

  While Abby waited on Bo to get dressed and speak with his doctor, she walked down the hall to Pebble’s room. Abby knew they’d come close to losing her the night before.

  “Knock, knock,” Abby said, rapping gently on the open door and leaning into the room.

  “Abby!” Pebble said, happiness in her voice—well, it was nice someone was glad to see her. She thought Bo was going to snap her head off.

  Pebble’s skin was sallow but her blue eyes were bright above the oxygen tube, IV, and monitors. “What are you doing here? It’s awful early,” she said, and then coughed. When Abby hurried over and reached to hand her a glass of water she took it.