by Dani Wyatt
“Yes, Morris Wyatt and I went to vet school together a hundred years ago.”
“I want to see the blood work on that mare. I want them to run a full panel for anything in her system. I’ll pay them directly for the test. I want it kept quiet though. Just you and me, okay?”
“You thinking what I think you’re thinking?”
“I’m thinking Travis may be the one walking with a limp very soon, but I need proof.”
“You got it. I’ll get it done. You know who that girl is, don’t you?”
“Yep.” I want to tell him that she’s my future wife and the mother of my children, but that’s not what he’s asking. “Okay. You know, Travis has always been digging for gold. Not sure what he was thinking if he doped that horse. But if my instincts are correct, it had something to do with getting himself ahead.”
No one knows for sure, but the day I took my fall, my horse had a similar reaction to the mare today.
There have been other occasions when I’d suspected Travis of pumping his own horses before a show to get them to jump higher or go faster, but until today, when I saw that exact same reaction in her horse, it was just a vague suspicion. I’m fairly sure he’s got a hand in this, though, and I intend to prove it.
Horses are tested at random, but it’s not enough to catch everyone and everything. I’ve seen some shit in this sport that people do to their animals that makes me want to quit, but at least if I’m here, I know my students and horses are treated right.
I wrap up my phone conversation with Doc because my nurse friend is headed back my way.
“She’s in room 503.” She smiles and whispers. “And, it looks like she’s doing just fine. They’ll keep her under observation for another twenty-four hours, but looks like she’s going to go home tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Melanie. I owe you.”
“Oh, you don’t owe me a thing. Been awful nice to look out here and have such a big, handsome man who’s got Cupid’s arrow sticking straight out of his heart. More men should be like you. Gives a girl hope.”
With that she’s gone whistling back to settle behind the front desk. I get to my feet to stretch. After the ambulance had taken my beauty away, it felt so strange that I was so connected to her yet knew so little about her. The thought of her disappearing and me not being able to figure out where she went and if she was okay nearly brought me to my knees.
After the ambulance had left and I managed to get what information I could from people I knew, I drove like a mad man to the hospital, where I’ve been sitting ever since. Travis conveniently disappeared otherwise he and I would have had a come to Jesus chat. Her parents piled into the ambulance with her so I couldn’t get to them.
Something about her makes me feel she is my responsibility. That it’s my job from this moment on to assure her happiness and her safety. That may sound crazy, but I know what I know. I’m more settled than I’ve been in as far back as I can remember. Something about my beauty is making me feel like I’ve finally found something that feels like home.
My clothes are a mess from being down in the dirt yesterday, and my usual neatly pressed look is a bit ruffled. I decide to take an hour, run to my house on the barn property, shower, dress and make it back here and stake my claim outside of room 503 until I get my eyes and hands on her again.
She’s got my heart; I’ll leave that here with her and come back for it later.
Leaving her here is making me nervous, but when I go in to see her, I want to be at my best. Besides, I need to do a quick check on Grand Teton and Nancy back at our barn. I take care of my obligations and they are both on my watch as well.
C H A P T E R F I V E
Constance
“I’m fine.” My heart is racing and my anxiety is sky high because I just want to be out of this hospital room. I also can’t seem to stop thinking about Reed Sawyer’s face hovering over mine after the accident. I’d hoped he would have come to see me, but it’s just been my mom here with me for the most part.
I remember Reed’s eyes; he looked more frightened than I’d felt. I can still hear his voice shouting desperately for the EMTs and brushing the hair from my face, the way his eyes lit on fire when his hand grazed over the spot on my head that is now closed up with twenty-two staples.
“Darling, please. One more day won’t kill you.” My mother’s peace maker voice only ratchets up my anxiety a few more notches. My father is at work, of course.
I couldn’t tell from my dad’s reaction yesterday if he was more irritated that I’d fallen or that I’d not won. He barely spoke to me in the time he was here yesterday. Either way, he’s back at work now because that is his first priority.
Besides a nasty gash and bump on my head, I feel pretty good considering what could have happened. I’m a little sore, and my head feels foggy and achy, but my mom had the hospital run every test possible and they say I’m going to be fine.
My dad sits on the board of directors at this hospital, so Mom insisted I be put into ICU for the night when I arrived, even though it wasn’t medically necessary. If I were some Jane Doe off the street, they’d have stapled me up, snapped a quick x-ray and sent me home.
But I’m me. So I’m still here.
There is one thing though. Twice I’ve had these tremors start in my hand; then they go up my arm and before I know it, my right side and my head are shaking like mad and I can’t stop it. It only lasts about a minute, and both times no one was in the room with me, thank God. Just an adrenaline rush and stress, I’m sure. It is definitely weird though, and if it keeps happening even I know I have to have it checked out, but right now I just want to go home and forget the entire incident.
To be honest, I’m scared to death of getting back up on a horse, but it’s been drilled into me from my fifth birthday, when I took my first tumble off Murphy my Shetland Pony: You fall, you get right back on, no questions, no hesitation.
No fear.
You overcome. You overachieve. You conquer.
Yes, Dad, you don’t need you in my head thank you very much.
This need I have to please him sucks. Couple that with the fact that in his eyes I’m never quite good enough, sucks even more.
“I’m leaving, whether or not you come with me,” I snap at my mother. I’m not usually so surly with her, but I hate it here. “Just hire someone to come and hover around me if it makes you feel better. A private nurse like you did for Grandma. But I’m not staying here.”
I hear the bratty tone in my voice and I can’t stop it. I’m legally an adult, but I think part of my petulance comes from the fact that I am still so far under their thumb.
They pay for everything. My car, my training, my gear, my food, my horses.
My horses. Ruby. Grief grips at my throat.
From what I’m told, Ruby will be okay, but my father didn’t hesitate to tell me I’ll never ride her again. They bought her from Travis even before I started training with him. He’s part trainer, part high end used horse salesman, and even though they paid more for her than some islands are worth, but my father put his foot down.
I pray they don’t get rid of her without me knowing. I wouldn’t put it past him. I’ll keep her forever, even if I don’t ever ride her again. I love her and she loves me. I know how some people treat their horses in this sport. Like a piece of equipment. They will do whatever they need to do to get their horse to perform, whether or not it is in the horse’s best interest.
Win at all costs, right?
I’m not sure if my dad doesn’t want me to ride her because he thinks I’ll get hurt again or I’ll embarrass him. For a moment I hate myself for how I still obey my father without question. Like I’m still a child.
I choke back a groan as my mother continues to wring her hands. I’m just happy Ruby’s going to recover.
“Travis called,” she adds with forced enthusiasm. “He said he’ll see you in a couple weeks. He’s leaving for two shows he has to go to with the other riders, and he’s w
orried about the liability of your riding at the barn until he’s back and he can supervise.” Mom is flitting around the room again, adjusting one of the ten or so enormous floral arrangements in her bright yellow and white capris with matching polo and cardigan. Her hair is a perfect blond helmet secured with enough Aqua Net that it would take a missile strike to make a dent. “You took a bad fall, honey, don’t take it personally. Travis is just looking out for you.”
Yes, he cares so much he didn’t even bother to come by and see me. Not that I wanted him to.
That scary thought dances through my head.
I’m not sure I want to ride again.
The thought has my stomach tight and maybe I’m just not ready after all. My confidence is shot and vet school seems an attractive option right now.
Before I figure out how to reply to her, a soft knock on the door draws our eyes. I stumble forward and throw myself back into the bed because I’m clothed only in this stupid hospital gown with my rear end hanging out. Mom had a suitcase of my clothes delivered when they knew I was going to be okay and my room was moved, but I haven’t had a chance to change yet.
“Come in.” I shout louder than intended.
I clear my throat as my mom gives me a look of displeasure at my raised voice. But I’d invite the entire cast of the Kardashians’ show in here for a chat right now if it meant a distraction from June Cleaver.
She has always fussed and fretted with everything around her to avoid real conversation. I think anything that requires some sort of emotional connection to me must cover her in hives.
I’m expecting a nurse or orderly to come through the door. Or some other visitor that wants to suck up to my mother or annoy me with more questions about how I’m feeling.
Instead, the tall frame that fills the open door steals the oxygen from my lungs leaving a burning feeling in its absence. “Hi,” he says. That single word has to be one of the most stunning sounds I’ve heard in my life.
The sound of those two letters neatly put together falling from his lips nearly topples me off the pillows. His greeting is quickly matched by a smile that pulls up on the corners of Reed Sawyer’s lips, making my mouth start to water. When his steel gray eyes hit me, it’s like a silk fist to my chest. My stomach is full of those maniac butterflies or buffalo or whatever they are and I remember I haven’t brushed my hair since I dressed for the show yesterday.
My heart is thumping so hard it must be visible through my gown. My hands clutch at the white sheet covering my legs. I tug at it until it’s around my waist, trying to tuck it in so the view of my hospital gown is a bit less horrifying.
For a moment, I wonder if he’s just here to suck up like so many that have come before. With my family, that’s the first thing I think when someone new is nice to me. But someone like Reed Sawyer doesn’t need to suck up. He’s a force in and of himself. He doesn’t strike me as the suck-up type.
Reed gives my mother a single polite nod, a quick, “Ma’am,” then his focus is right back to me.
“For you.” He pulls his hand from behind his back. He’s holding a single rose, its petals unlike anything I’ve ever seen. They are ivory, with the edges of each petal tipped in bright red, like they’ve sipped on red wine.
“Thank you.”
“And this, too.” He reaches into his back pocket, pulling something out then handing over the flower and a photo as he steps forward. Only after he reaches the side of the bed and I take the items from him, does he turn to my mother again.
“Ma’am, I’m Reed Sawyer. I was fortunate enough to meet your daughter yesterday. I’m only sorry I wasn’t able to prevent her injury.”
“Reed Sawyer?” Mom puts on her best flirty face. “Well, of course, I know you. Everyone who’s anyone in our little horse world knows you. Thank you so much for helping Stanzie yesterday.”
“Constance,” I quickly correct her. I’m sure most women would prefer the more jazzy, hip version of my overly-formal name, but not me.
“I only wish I could have done more,” he answers Mom, but his eyes are back on me and I stare intently at his lips as they move. Watching his tongue and his teeth as a warmth gathers low in my belly. “I would have given anything to prevent your fall. I’m so sorry I didn’t move fast enough.”
He regards me, taking me in and I feel his gaze wherever it lights. But unlike when Travis lets his eyes roam when Reed does it it’s almost honorable. Like it’s his responsibility. His duty to look at me this way. And it’s sending some new sort of tingling sensation swirling over my skin and focusing somewhere deep in my core.
My mom shoots me a look, and I look away pretending she’s disappeared in a puff of Chanel No. 5.
“Well, I think I’ll go get myself a cup of coffee.” Mom chimes in. For once maybe she and I are on the same page. “Mr. Sawyer, is there anything you’d like?”
I see the glint in his deep-set gray eyes, the way they narrow a bit in thought.
“No, thank you.” He bites slightly on his bottom lip as he answers her in an even, polite tone. “I’d like nothing more than to just spend some time making sure Constance is okay.” He never takes his eyes from mine. When he licked his lips, I’m pretty sure my nipples poke two holes through the thin fabric of the hospital gown.
“Bye, Mom,” I say, clear and crisp.
I’m old enough to lay in a hospital room by myself, but she’s not so much as left me more than five minutes since we got here.
Something about his presence fills me with confidence. I feel a sense of pride in the way he looks at me. This monster of a man, with features cut square, and yet his look is rounded with softness. There is a calm, powerful confidence about him that bleeds into me and I want to reach out and see if I can feel it when I touch him.
I roll the stem of the flower in my fingers, my other hand pinching the photo as mom takes her leave.
“There are no thorns.” I look at the stem.
“I removed them. I didn’t want you to get hurt.” He steps forward, and I swear I feel his energy blanket me in warmth. He runs a hand over his close-cropped dark hair from forehead to neck before continuing. “How are you? What did the doctors say?” The sincere concern in his voice is a sound I’ve longed to hear from my own father.
“The doctors said I was fine. Besides the cut on my head, they did x-rays, MRI, Cat-scan. You name it; my parents made sure they did it. I drew the line at the ink-dye in my vein thing though. And in the end, they said I’m lucky and I should have no lasting effects. Not even a mild concussion, I feel fine. I wanted to go home last night,” I snap. “But my parents are a bit controlling. I was about to dress and leave when you knocked.”
My eyes drift down where his t-shirt pulls across his chest, lower to where it hangs cresting on the front of his jeans, and I swear I see a fullness there that makes my eyes dart back to look at the photo he handed me.
My cheeks light up bright as the sun when I finally look and see the image of Ruby staring back at me. Her eyes soft and sweet, a bandage wrapping around her neck with an IV tube snaking low and out of the picture.
“Oh my god. You went and saw her?”
“Is she important to you?” He tips his head with the question.
“Yes! She’s the most important thing in my life. My best friend. I love her. I texted Travis like ten times and asked him to tell me how she was, and he never got back to me.” I grunt the final words with an irritated huff.
Tears spring to my eyes looking at the photo. This stupid horse. I’m so in love with her. And I’ve been so worried about what happened between us yesterday and how hurt she might have been.
“Well, things that are important to you are now important to me.” Reed shifts his weight back and forth like he’s uncomfortable standing.
Just when I think I should offer him a seat, he fixes his cane in front of him and continues. “I have to be honest, I didn’t take the picture myself. I’ve been in the downstairs waiting room since yesterday, just rushed
home to change and get back here. But I sent my own vet over to put his eyes on Ruby and give her the once over. He texted me that pic and I printed it for you when I ran home to change.”
“What did he say? Your vet I mean?” The tips of my ears are hot. Reed is making me nervous in a way I’m not familiar with, and combined with my anxious need to know if Ruby is going to be okay, I’m an over-eager mess.
“Said she'd need some rest, but she looked bright eyed. A few stitches here and there. She was eating and drinking. Had a nasty gash on her head. Kinda like that one on yours.”
“Yeah, I’m sure I look like I should be on the cover of Franken-gurl Monthly.”
“Don’t say that. You look beautiful.” He pauses and so does my heart. “But, Ruby will recover. Just like you. That’s all that matters.”
His tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip and I see him draw in a quick breath. He closes his eyes for a long moment and I hold my breath, waiting, because he seems lost in thought I’m not sure what I’d said that may have upset him.
“You are breathtaking.” The words come out of him quick, like they’re all part of one long word, his eyes still closed, and there is a thumping in my ears drowning out everything else. When he finally opens his eyes, the words I’d like to say crowd in my throat.
He takes another step toward the head of the bed and I swallow hard, my knuckles white as I put down the photo and fist the sheet once again.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner yesterday. I only wish I could have prevented your fall. I regret that very much.” The radiating energy coming from him envelops me, and I feel washed in a safe warmth because I don’t just hear his words, I can feel the sincerity in them.
“It wasn’t your fault. It all happened so fast, I knew Ruby felt off when I warmed up. I shouldn’t have taken her out.”
“Your trainer should have noticed that.” He growls. His eyes flare with anger and his jaw sets tight. He has one hand behind his back and one grips the silver horse’s head at the top of his cane.